It does not become us, perhaps, to enlarge upon the merits of this work, the character of which is known to many of our readers. As there are _other_ many of them, however, who may not be conversant with much of the prose which makes up a large portion of its contents--having become subscribers to this Magazine since the 'Ollapodiana' papers and the other prose miscellanies appeared in its pages--we shall venture to present a few extracts, and to preface them with the following remarks of the able Editor of the _United States Gazette_, of Philadelphia, upon the writer's merits; praise, we may add, which has been confirmed by the kindred commendation of almost every journal in the Union: 'Messrs. BURGESS, STRINGER AND COMPANY, of New-York, have commenced the publication, in a series of numbers, of the Literary Remains of WILLIS GAYLORD CLARK. The first number has been for some days upon our table, and after a biographical notice of the author, contains a portion of the '_Ollapodiana_,' those admirable papers furnished for the KNICKERBOCKER. Almost every body, who read five years ago, knows the _beauties_ of CLARK'S composition. They are permanent beauties; beauties that always are to be found by those who ever had taste to admire them. They are not dependant upon a jingle of words for temporary popularity; they appeal from the heart to the heart, in language that knows no variation of time. They express sentiments that are permanent, feelings common to mankind; and those who would profit by a delicate delineation of the affections of the human heart, will love the poetry of CLARK. Those who would have a broader seal set upon manners, and the peculiarities of the mind set forth in pleasant grotesqueness, will smile at the 'Ollapodiana.' But all will profit by _all_; and we regard it as a literary obligation conferred upon the age, and carrying with it a moral obligation also, to multiply the copies of such writings as CLARK prepared. We express not our feelings, when we write of CLARK as an author. There are some of us who knew his heart better than he did, and who have never forgotten his worth. These monuments, that are erected to his fame from his own works, like the trophies of victory, moulded to a triumphal pillar, denote public respect. Individual feeling loves a silent flow, that is constant and hearty.' If the reader has had the fortune to travel in a canal-packet, in the summer solstice, he will readily recognize the faithfulness of the following picture: