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deals vigorously with the "Uncle Tom" mania, and that on "Art" could have come only from a versatile and highly cultivated mind.

"Life in the Mission, the Camp, and the Zenáná, or Six Years in India, by Mrs. Colin Mackenzie," (in two volumes, 12mo, pp. 342, 319,) is a work of sterling value, containing sketches from unfamiliar scenes, and from strange phases of human life. Any fireside reader may learn from its pages of some sorts of character and some incidents of which he has never dreamed as being realized on this planet.

"Western Character, or Types of Border Life in the Western States. By J. L. McConnel. With Illustrations by Darley." (12mo. pp. 378.) These Characters" are, the Indian, the Voyager, the Pioneer, the Ranger, the Regulator, the Justice of the Peace, the Peddler, the Schoolmaster, and the Politician. The idea of drawing these portraitures was a very happy one, and it has been most skilfully executed. The author might have written half a dozen romances from the materials which he has here presented in a matter-of-fact way. There is a charming verisimilitude in the sketches; they are vigorously drawn, and are strikingly characteristic of Western life.

"Art and Industry, as represented in the Exhibition at the Crystal Palace, New York, 1853-4. Showing the Progress and State of the various Useful and Esthetic Pursuits. From the New York Tribune. Revised and edited by Horace Greeley." (12mo. pp. 386.) This volume, which grew without being made, is a very convenient and a very sufficient manual, alike an inventory and a description and criticism of the articles now on exhibition at New York.

OBITUARY.

MADAM RUTH EMERSON.-Fifty years ago, Rev. William Emerson, minister of the First Church in Boston, was a prominent man in the religious instruction and the literary enterprises of the town. He was of an active spirit, bent upon doing something considerable in his place and time. But his time was appointed to be short. In the midst of his plans and honorable labors, he died, in 1811, at the age of forty-two, leaving in widowhood the excellent lady who has now followed him, at a little more than double that number of years. She was born in Boston, November 9th, 1768, the daughter of Mr. John Haskins, and died in Concord, her husband's birthplace, aged eighty-five years and one week.

Mr. Emerson's death left her with the care of six children, five of them sons, of whom the oldest was yet at school. In that year of her bereavement, such a heavy, responsible, and precarious charge seemed to the eyes of many persons to cast upon her an increased burden of trial. But she showed herself equal to those anxious circumstances. She knew how to exercise a prudent forethought, economy, and selfdenial; and her position and personal worth raised around her many friends. Four of her five sons she carried through Harvard College, where they all distinguished themselves. They were the joy and pride of her widowed life. They were more than her jewels. They were evidences to the world of her motherly wisdom and faithfulness. Of

these, Edward Bliss and Charles Chauncy not only carried away the first honors of the University, but attracted public admiration as very few such young leaders do. They both gave the highest promise of eminence, and both died young, two years apart from each other. The eyes of the writer fill, as he remembers their eloquent faces, and repeats those affecting lines of their dirge:

"The winding Concord gleamed below,
Pouring as wide a flood

As when my brothers, long ago,
Came with me to the wood.

"I touch this flower of silken leaf,

Which once our childhood knew;

Its soft leaves wound me with a grief
Whose balsam never grew."

It might not seem delicate in us to speak of the other two, and we will add but a word. The elder is a counsellor at New York, and has been a judge, — beloved wherever he is known, and universally confided in. The other has the least of his praises in his fame. We should not know where to find a nobler and gentler spirit.

The family was not broken up till 1826. Mrs. Emerson then accepted the pressing invitation of the venerable Doctor Ripley, of Concord, to make his house her home, thus supplying the place of his deceased daughter, who was her husband's half-sister. In 1835, a new home, and her last earthly one, was found in the family of her son, with whom, indeed, she had resided for several years before, though not in the same dwelling. "Never was person more blest in natural temper," says one who knew, "more calm, amiable, self-respecting, selfhelping." She was a woman of great patience and fortitude, of the serenest trust in God, of a discerning spirit, and a most courteous bearing; one who knew how to guide the affairs of her own house, as long as she was responsible for that, with the sweetest authority; and who knew how to give the least trouble and the greatest happiness, after that authority was resigned. Both her mind and her character were of a superior order, and they set their stamp upon manners of peculiar softness and natural grace and quiet dignity. Her sensible and kindly speech was always as good as instruction; her smile, though it was ever ready, was a reward. Her dark, liquid eyes, from which old age could not take away the expression, will be among the remembrances of all on whom they ever rested. Her Christian faith, and all the dispositions which it nourishes, were her support to the end of her life. Her death was hastened at last by a calamity that often befalls the aged, the fracture of the neck of the thigh-bone, a part which is apt to become thin and brittle with time. This sad accident confined her long to her bed, and gave large room for the exercise of her meekness and constancy.

"Spiritus hæres sit patriæ quæ tristia nescit."

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