greatly assisted her husband in copying his manuscript, which, from the frequent changes made, was in effect transcribed three times.  By such labors was the immense mass of contemporary evidence brought into order, clearly narrated, and submitted to exact scientific criticism.  For it is the distinguishing characteristic of the book, that it is a critical history, constantly illuminating facts by principles and deducing the most important maxims of political and military science from the abundant material lavishly contributed by the virtues, follies, and superabundant exertions of three great nations in the heart of Europe, in the midst of the complex civilization of the nineteenth century.  The ever earnest, animated style in which all this is written grows out of the subject and is supported by it, always rising naturally with the requirements of the occasion.  If our officers in the field would learn how despatches should be written and a record of their exploits be prepared to catch the ear of posterity, let them give their leisure hours of the camp to the study of Napier.  The public also may learn many lessons of patience and philosophy from these pages, when they turn from the book to the actual warfare writing its ineffaceable characters on so many fair fields of our own land.

The Patience of Hope.  By the Author of “A Present Heaven.”  With an Introduction by JOHN G. WHITTIER.  Boston:  Ticknor & Fields.

As the method by which an individual soul reaches conclusions with regard to the Saviour and the conditions of salvation, “The Patience of Hope” is worthy of particular attention.  It does not, however, stand alone, but belongs to a class.  Its peculiarity is that it proceeds by apposite text and inference, more than by the illumination of feeling,—­aiming to convince rather than to reveal, as is the manner of those whose convictions have not quite become as a star in a firmament where neither eclipse nor cloud ever comes.  Evidently there was a most searching examination of the Scriptures preparatory to the work; and yet the ample quotation, often fresh and felicitous, appears to be made to sustain a preconceived opinion, or, more strictly, an emotion.  This emotion is so single and absorbing that there is some gleam of it in each varying view, and every sentiment is warm with it, however the flame may lurk as beneath a crust of lava.  Only from a richly gifted mind, and a heart whose longings no fullness of mortal affection has power to permanently appease, could these aspirations issue.  It is the tender complaint and patient hope of one whom the earth, and all that is therein, cannot satisfy.  Moreover, so pure and irrepressible is the natural desire of the heart, so does it color and constitute all the dream of Paradise, that the divinest Hope not only thrills and palpitates with Love’s ripest imaginings, but puts on nuptial robes.  Touchingly she pictures herself as “The Mystic Spouse,—­her that cometh up from the wilderness, leaning upon the arm of her Beloved,—­and we shall see that she, like her Lord, is wounded in her heart, her hands, and her feet.”  Though sowing in such still remembered pain, she yet reaps with unspeakable joy.  She has now the full assurance that the mystic and immortal embrace is for her, and in the fulness of her heart cries, “When were Love’s arms stretched so wide as upon the Cross?”