‘And away she ran to the sacred grove, surrounded with glittering pearls, that indicated her coming. Elfonzo hails her with his silver bow and his golden harp. They meet—Ambulinia’s countenance brightens—Elfonzo leads up his winged steed. “Mount,” said he, “ye true-hearted, ye fearless soul—the day is ours.” She sprang upon the back of the young thunderbolt; a brilliant star sparkles upon her head, with one hand she grasps the reins, and with the other she holds an olive branch. “Lend thy aid, ye strong winds,” they exclaimed, “ye moon, ye sun, and all ye fair host of heaven, witness the enemy conquered.” “Hold,” said Elfonzo, “thy dashing steed.” “Ride on,” said Ambulinia, “the voice of thunder is behind us.” And onward they went with such rapidity that they very soon arrived at Rural Retreat, where they dismounted, and were united with all the solemnities that usually attend such divine operations.’ There is but one Homer, there was but one Shakspeare, there is but one McClintock—and his immortal book is before you. Homer could not have written this book, Shakspeare could not have written it, I could not have done it myself. There is nothing just like it in the literature of any country or of any epoch. It stands alone, it is monumental. It adds G. Ragsdale McClintock’s to the sum of the republic’s imperishable names. THE CURIOUS BOOK COMPLETE [The foregoing review of the great work of G. Ragsdale McClintock is liberally illuminated with sample extracts, but these cannot appease the appetite. Only the complete book, unabridged, can do that. Therefore it is here printed.—M. T.] _THE ENEMY CONQUERED; OR, LOVE TRIUMPHANT_ Sweet girl, thy smiles are full of charms, Thy voice is sweeter still, It fills the breast with fond alarms, Echoed by every rill.