which belonged to his whole temperament and organization.  He toiled with a fiery earnestness and a concentration of purpose which burned into the very heart of the subject he was investigating.  The audience that hung with delight upon one of his addresses to the jury, at the close of a long and exciting trial, in which the wit and eloquence and poetry seemed to be the inspiration of the moment,—­electric sparks which the mind’s own rapid motion generated,—­thought as little of the patient industry with which all had been elaborated as they who admire an exquisite ball-dress, that seems a part of the lovely form which it adorns, think of the pale weaver’s loom and the poor seamstress’s needle.  We have known brilliant men; we have known laborious men; but we have never known any man in whom the two elements were met in such combination as Mr. Choate.

But we must pause.  We are insensibly going beyond our limits.  We are forgetting the biography and recalling Mr. Choate himself, a theme too fruitful for a literary notice.  We conclude, then, with an expression of thanks to Professor Brown for the entirely satisfactory manner in which he has performed a task of no common difficulty.  The friends of Mr. Choate will find in these volumes not only ample, but new matter, to justify the admiration which he awakened; and to those who did not know him they will show how just was his title to their admiration.

The Story of the Guard, a Chronicle of the War. By JESSIE BENTON FREMONT. 16mo.  Boston:  Ticknor and Fields.

The subject, the authorship, and the style of this book combine to secure for it the immediate attention of American readers.  In our own case, this attention has deepened into hearty interest and sympathy; and we are so confident that such will be the result in every mind, that we the more cheerfully resign ourselves to the necessity which renders a full and fair review of this little book an impossible thing for us.  Let us briefly call to notice some of its peculiar excellences, and indicate the line of thought which we think its sympathetic critic will follow.

Certainly no worthier subject could be chosen than the deeds of that brave young Guard, which was at first the target for so many slanders, and at last the centre of heartiest love and pride to all the North.  Its short and brilliant career lacks nothing which chivalry find romance could lend, to render it the brightest passage in the history of the war.  It is but a few days since Fremont’s Virginia Body-Guard—­now that of General Sigel—­made a bold dash into Fredericksburg, rivalling the glory of their predecessors; but, though every one of Fremont’s campaigns should boast a Body-Guard, and every Guard immortalize a new Springfield, the crown of crowns will always rest on the gallant little major and his dauntless few whose high enthusiasm broke the spell of universal disaster, sounding the bugle-notes of victory through the dreary silence of national despair.