est that held them thus. They were thought | can one do? Here is a crowd of similar offendto be engaged. Our first objection to the book arises from the position of these two parties. They were together daily, alone and in company-they rode, talked, walked, danced, sang together, each in a most peculiar and superior manner. They were as intimate as intimate can be, and a little more. Now it is disagreeable to the fancy to picture a passionate couple, such as these are represented to have been, living in that manner for a long space of time, neither married nor bound in duty to be married. The thing is against nature and reason, and therefore to contemplate it tends to corrupt and unrefine. Faults of the same sort are so common in modern lady novels, that we have been compelled to consider extreme false sentiment as their special vice. But one is not called upon to reform the whole world, and we shall therefore leave this depart ment to others. ers. There is a divided duty; truth says "smile!" politeness says "puff!" We avoid the dilemma by singling out the least guilty, and letting execution issue against that alone. Such is our clemency. Mirabeau-a Life History. Philadelphia: LEA & BLANCHARD. 1848. (Reprint.) We have, in this biography of Mirabeau, a palpable imitation of Carlyle, in the form of the book, the method of treating the subject, and the style employed. The author is evidently one of those who have been carried captive by the power of that great writer. But what seems natural in the original, in the imitation is pure affectation. In addition to this defect of the work, the author, as might be expected, is a Hero-Worshipper. All wor ship but one being idolatry, the literature and history proceeding from it must bear the impress of the sin; and the judicious reader will find palpable evidence thereof in the volume before us. With these truths kept in mind, however, we may safely recommend this work as a graphic, and in the main faithful portraiture of the greatest of that "large and increas ing" class of men, the revolutionists of France. The selections from the speeches, reports and addresses of Mirabeau are made with judgment, and convey a very high idea of his genius. His vices and crimes, however, are too much attributed to circumstances. Recent events have added interest to the subject of the work, and it is a pity that some one with sound moral, political and philosophical principles would not give to the age a true estimate of the life of that extraordinary man. The same defect here noticed mars the whole story. The characters love and quarrel, and grow good or bad, etc., all out of their heads, and this makes them all unlovley, theatrical, and impossible. They explain all their motives. The heroine easily forsakes her first love, for the mysterious, irresistibly fascinating Hastings, who marries her for his own pleasure purely. They quarrel. and he finally runs away and rejoins his former flame, Mrs. Mabury, who had gone abroad. It appears he only travels and talks with her. His wife runs after him and finds him out in Rome. He takes her back on condition she shall live with him not as a wife, but as a mistress, (which, being his lawful wife was a mere technical form, of words to gratify his pride.) He is taken with a fever, which causes her to consider the enormity of the crime she is committing, and resolve to leave him. Then finally, he runs after her instead of she after him; he who was the original Charmer, has found the Counter- Grantby Manor. By Lady GEORGIANA FULCharmer the most powerful. (N. B. Before reading this we had supposed the ladies most exposed to counter-charms. Vide Stewart's, Beck's, etc.) Thus in the end they turn out a very exemplary and happy couple. LERTON. New York: D. Appleton & Co. The authoress of this book wields a powerful pen, and we can commend her tale as of much interest and great purity of purpose. The horrible effects of religious intolerance are very strikingly illustrated; and the heroism of her heroine, in holding to her faith under the most powerful temptations, is exhibited with great force. That there is much special pleading for that faith we will not venture to say, as we rise from the perusal of the book uncertain whether the author is of that Let us not however be too severe upon the unfortunate little volume. It is really written with much ability, and is, with all its faultiness, well sustained and interesting. If the reader will allow himself to be transported into a region where the young ladies manage every thing, and the young gentlemen are the most abstruse, funny creatures imaginable, a good deal of amusement may be derived from it. To apply severe criticism to it, would be like bring-faith or has only that rare charity which gives ing a Paixhan gun to batter down a Macbeth's castle as it stands upon the stage. Perhaps it will be thought severe even to notice thus half seriously the work, as it appears by the title-page, of a lady author. But what to opponents the full benefit of their own reasons for the faith that is in them. Some of the characters are beautifully portrayed, and the story is, on the whole, one of the very best of its class. THE DRAMA. The natural tendency in man to continue to love what he has long loved, and to feel an attachment to or repugnance for certain places according to the associations with which they may be connected, is one which, in these days of electricity, it does no harm to encourage. It is a disposition which promotes quietness and a propensity to prefer the established order of things. There is always plenty to claim our attention in the novelties that are perpetually springing up around and before us without our particular care; they force themselves upon us and rest simply on their merits-indeed they are so many and various in a city like New York that those who go about to enjoy themselves have much ado to prevent being quite carried away by them so as to lose their personal identity and the power of reflection. It seems wisest to keep an eye as much as possible to old times; the present will take care of itself. Hence it is not weakness but wisdom, to cherish feelings of kindness towards "Old Drury," and to be gratified at seeing it re-opened under auspices which promise success. Within its walls old times were pastimes, and to sit there now and enjoy good acting restores the sensations of youth. There is more of illusion connected with its stage than with any other; in its boxes the fancy is more docile than anywhere else. Moreover, we experience there more of the delightful sense of the sinfulness of stage performances than in any other theatre; in witnessing plays there we have superadded the sweet reminiscence of stolen pleasuresthe recollection of college days, huge cloaks, false whiskers of enormous proportion, Shakspeare carried under the arm, and tears at Booth's Iago. We can enjoy tho other theatres in their way; the tawdry Broadway, the merry Olympic, the beautiful Opera House; but none of them inspire the old Park feeling; none of them, if we except the musical associations of the Opera House and those of its brilliant audiences, awakens the peculiar elevated state of mind with which we wish to sit and see MUSIC. Mr. J. L. HATTON, an English pianist who has recently arrived, has given several musical entertainments during the month, which ought not to pass without favor able notice. Mr. H. is one of the neatest and most fluent pianists we have ever heard; he uses the pedal and wrist less than the latest players, but his touch is delicate, and his executive powers very great. To hear him play from MENDELSSOHN is a treat which our musical readers here and in other cities (should he make the usual tour) must not neglect. In addition to his merits as a performer he is an excellent singer-not with great powers of voice, but with admirable elocution, and the ease imparted by true feeling and thorough education. His song from Handel, “Oh, ruddier than the cherry," was the best in its way we have had an opportunity of hearing. But it is as a singer of comic songs, and pieces mixed up of song and recitative, that he chiefly depends for making his performances successful. In this respect he is worthy of great praise; his singing is characterized by true humor, and his command of the keyboard enables him to produce the funniest accompa niaments imaginable. Besides, all that he does in this way has the merit of not being low or common. He is witty, humorous, laughable, yet he does not transform himself into a buffoon; he does nothing, in short, which a singer may not do, and still give the impression that he is a gentleman. This is a difficult matter to accomplish, and it is one not always attempted or required. We were never able to admire, for the absence of it, the comic songs of the Hutchinson family. There was a sneakingness in them, which, though no one born and bred in the New Eng land country could help understanding, yet to which it seemed degrading to give way. But a Yankee song on the stage, and in appropriate costume, is well enough. There is an incongruity in seeing a well-dressed man assume a clownish voice and manners; in costume, this is avoided; the singer leaves his own character, and takes the one he sings in. Then we see not one of ourselves, but another sort of person. Sir Walter Scott, in the preface to an edition of his novels, published after his confession of their authorship, compares himself to a certain harlequin, who, on being once per suaded to appear without his mask, lost his reputation, and could never perform after. We have those who are able to assume the manners and outward guise of vulgarity, not in the concert-room only, but on all occasions, without the defence of any mask, except a very thin one of hypocrisy, which they are willing should be seen through. |