do not grieve for me. I once thought it would be so terrible, but now I do not think it at all so. I can even bear the thought that you remain behind; it seems to me as if I shall only say good-night to you; we shall see each other to-morrow, then I shall not fail to joke with you, but now I cannot: goodnight!" and she laid her head down again.

It was so still in the chamber-so raw and cold. A bird screamed in the garden. Was it death's bird? In the adjoining chambers there lay two dead bodies the little boy's and Caroline Heimerant's.

The scene that occurs when young Elimar and Elizabeth are nearly drowned by the uprising tide, is exceedingly well told; and when afterwards Elimar is, by the rascality of Jos Tappen, who assumes his name, threatened with punishment, Elizabeth, who had read Scott's novels, thought of Jeannie Deans, and resolved to carry a petition to the king. The perils which she is made to undergo on her heroic errand, both by the wayside, and when in the metropolis, are the perfection of what Andersen most delights in-the poetical and picturesque in every-day

life.

Hans Christian Andersen dedicates this delightful work, the first that he has sent into the world in the English language (and truly remarkable it is even in that point of view) to Mr. Bentley, to whom, he says, with much proper feeling, it was both natural and proper to address it, as to the first who had the spirit and inclination to take under his protection, a young and unknown author."

I was intimate with Shakspeare's land and Burns' mountains before my corporeal eye beheld them; and when at length I visited them, I was not received as a stranger. Kind eyes regarded me,-friends extended the hand to me. Elevated and humbled at the same time by so much happiness, my heart swelled with gratitude to God. My next thanks are to the dear friends I possess in your great nation and amongst them, to you, my friend, as one of the first. To you, who adopted my first romance, I here present my latest. I know you will receive it in that kindliness of spirit with which it is offered, and my friends will receive it with the same feeling as yourself.

It is not Italy's beauty, and the manners and customs of her people which are here depicted: it is Danish nature-the life and the world around mein the land wherein I live. May it preserve the affection of my friends for me!

How can it be otherwise, so long as simplicity, truth, and poetry have a claim upon the intellects and feelings of readers. For our own parts, we feel grateful alike to author and publisher for a work so perfectly in character, and at the same time possessing such remarkable in

pure terest.

MARY BARTON.*

There

IT has seldom fallen to our lot to read a work written with more earnestness of purpose, or more feeling than "Mary Barton: a Tale of Manchester Life." It excels in pathos and descriptive power. may not be the little touches of humour or the sly insights into nature of Charles Dickens, there is not the child-like simplicity of Andersen, but there is surpassing energy and vitality. It is a painful book to read, but it is also impossible to do so without being benefited by the perusal.

* Mary Barton: a Tale of Manchester Life. In 2 vols. Chapman and Hall.

Every scene is indeed a touch of nature, almost sanctified by its wholesome truthfulness. The meeting of the friends in " Green Heys Fields," the earnest self-willed John Barton, the future Chartist, an intellect struggling against poverty and want of proper information. George Wilson, a working man, yet in his own way a philosopher and a philanthropist; the two wives weeping and condoling for one poor sheep that has gone astray, a pretty pert young maiden, the heroine Mary, and her lover, hard-working, steady, and "gallant" Jem Wilson; "gallant!" the reader will exclaim, can a workman be gallant? yes, read that most stirring scene of a fire in a factory, in which Jem Wilson saves so many lives at the peril of his own, and gallantry will not be denied to rude coarse men, akin to that of any knight's most glorious deeds.

A tea-party of the poor, pleasantly sketched, is followed by a scene full of pathos, the sudden death of Mrs. Barton. One of the ties which bound John Barton to the gentle humanities of earth being thus loosened, he became more obstinate in his aversion to the rich, and his gloom and his sternness became habitual. The authoress professes to have nothing to do with political economy or the theories of trade, she says that she merely wishes to impress what the workman feels and thinks, but she allows the discontented to murmur in prolonged strains without an attempt to chasten the heart or to correct the understanding. Barton rails at all capitalists as being so only through the toil of the poor. This would be staunch communism. There surely must be capitalists or the condition of the poor would be worse than ever. We are told in Scripture that poor shall never cease out of the land, but we are also told that their expectation shall not perish, and that those who trust, shall be fed and be delivered out of affliction. Further than this we are told that the person of the poor should no more be respected than that of the rich should be honoured, and while it is sinful to oppress and a duty to assist, so also to the poor that will not hear rebuke, their poverty is their destruc

the

tion.

While the father gets more and more involved in Chartist plots, Mary engages herself as an apprentice to a milliner in a little street leading off Ardwick Green, and where she is seen and admired by Harry Carson, son of the opulent mill-owner. The interest of the rivalry of the working-engineer and the young gentleman, is, however, for a time absorbed by passing scenes descriptive of the sore afflictions of the poor. The cellar to which Barton and Wilson repair to carry comfort to a starving family-three or four little children rolling on the damp, nay, wet brick floor, through which the stagnant, filthy moisture of the street oozed up; the fire-place empty and black; the husband dying of typhus, the wife crying in the dark loneliness of the dying man's lair, is appalling in its

horrors.

These poor people have strange superstitions, too, in the midst of their trying afflictions. Wilson carried home the typhus to his own home, and two children fell victims to the infection. One is already gone.

"Is there any chance for the other one, think you ?" inquired Mary, who had come upon a Samaritan errand of rather rare occurrence, since she had now the affections of a young gentleman.

Alice shook her head, and told with a look that she believed there was none. She next endeavoured to lift the little body, and carry it to its old-accustomed bed in its parent's room. But earnest as the father was in watching the yetliving, he had eyes and ears for all that concerned the dead, and sprang gently

up, and took his dead son on his hard couch in his arms with tender strength, and carried him upstairs as if afraid of wakening him.

The other child gasped longer, louder, with more of effort.

"We mun get him away from his mother. He cannot die whilst she's wishing him."

Wishing him?" said Mary, in a tone of inquiry.

"Ay; donno ye know what wishing means? There's none can die in the arms of those who are wishing them sore to stay on earth. The soul o' them as holds them won't let the dying soul go free; so it has a hard struggle for the quiet of death. We mun get him away fra' his mother, or he'll have a hard death, poor lile fellow."

So without circumlocution she went and offered to take the sinking child, But the mother would not let him go, and looking in Alice's face with brimming and imploring eyes, declared in earnest whispers, that she was not wishing him, that she would fain have him released from his suffering. Alice and Mary stood by with eyes fixed on the poor child, whose struggles seemed to increase, till at last his mother said with a choking voice,

"May happen yo'd better take him, Alice; I believe my heart's wishing him a' this while, for I cannot, no, I cannot bring mysel to let my two childer go in one day; I cannot help longing to keep him, and yet he sha'not suffer longer for me."

She bent down, and fondly, oh! with what passionate fondness, kissed her child, and then gave him up to Alice, who took him with tender care. Nature's struggles were soon exhausted, and he breathed his little life away in peace.

Mary, in the pride of her new conquest, discards the young engineer, and refuses his offer of marriage only to repent a moment after, and that so bitterly that she follows up one refusal by another, and loses both lovers at the same time. She is the more confirmed in her resolve in respect to Henry Carson, as he intimated that his intentions had not at first been of an honourable character. The pith of the story hangs upon the events which follow upon the dismissal of the two lovers. The fallen Esther warns Jem Wilson that a fate similar to hers awaits Mary, and in an attempt to prevent this the workman assaults his young master. Not long after this John Barton, worked up to madness by his false notions of the relation of master and workman, shoots Henry Carson with Jem Wilson's gun. The young engineer is tried, and only saved by an alibi. The manner in which Mary Barton declares her preference for the prisoner then at the bar, is a most effective scene. The old man acknowledges his guilt to the father of young Carson, who, at first full of revenge, is at the conclusion made to feel that those who are strong in God's gifts are meant to help the weak, and that a perfect understanding and complete confidence aud love may exist between masters and men- the interests of the one being the interests of all.

LADY GRANARD'S NIECES.*

LADY GRANARD's nieces are two wayward children of wealth and fashion. Differing totally in manners, and in the outward manifestations of feeling, still Ada and Elfine Harolde are embued with precisely the same habits of thought and principles of conduct. The demeanour of Ada is described as gentle, yet repelling, from the excessive coldness of her manners. face and form are replete with loveliness, and yet there is no play of expres

Lady Granard's Nieces. A Novel. 3 vols. T. C. Newby.

Her

sion-the eye, brow, and cheek seemed more like the chiselled features of a statue than those of a living being. Yet cold, proud, and severe as the lady fair appeared to be, she is also stated to have been endued with the strongest passions that ever warmed the heart of woman.

And this is the lady to whom the sensible Everard was betrothed, and had on his return from the continent to woo! Well might the old father exclaim, "Is it a warm-hearted English girl who thus welcomes an old friend to his native land ?" And no wonder that it should dwell on the old man's lips that his were better times for courtship than the present. Pride, the enemy of the good, the wise and the great, the subtle essence of all evil, when not properly curbed, was, however, equally strong in both, and stronger than love; so much so, that each took care not to manifest by word or deed the preference each felt for the other. So as people must reap as they sow, a very brief finale is brought about by a rupture between the lovers, and Ada's marriage to another-a certain Sir Francis Ellerton-only to know the extent of the error committed by each-on Lady Ellerton's death-bed.

Ada, it will be seen, reflects no great credit on Lady Granard's system of education, nor is the light, sparkling, sarcastic Elfine much better or wiser. There is, however, such a perpetual flow of spirits, so much wit and humour about the young lady, that we cannot but pardon her, her similar prominent faults of pride and disparagement of others, the more especially, as she holds by her lover, Charles Lennox, to the last, and although she very unfairly keeps him in abeyance for the length of three volumes, still even that is also to be pardoned, since it cures him of that insufferable puppyism and unmanly affectation of manners by which he is characterised in the earlier portions of this narrative.

This is a slight and delicate frame-work for a novel, yet with an episode relative to a young French wife, of Harolde, brother to the "Nieces,' who is for a time unjustly repudiated; it is really the mainstay of three volumes of light and amusing reading, evidently the production of one of those facile, ever ready pens, which, in the hands of lady authoresses, evolve a novel with the same ease that they would do a love-letter of so many foolscap pages.

MR. EDWIN LEE'S NEW WORKS.

MR. EDWIN LEE is well known as a voluminous and a successful writer on professional subjects; more especially upon such as lie as it were on the out-skirts of science, such as climate, bathing, mineral waters, hydropathy, homoeopathy, animal magnetism, medical institutions, &c., &c. But he has likewise earned distinction in the treatment of subjects of a strictly professional character, as in his Jacksonian prize essay, on the comparative advantages of lithotomy and lithotrity.

The first on the list of Mr. Lee's works now before us, and the latest published, is adapted for home reading as a book of travels, as well as for an indicator to the continental visitor or valetudinarian, but it is in the latter point of view that it must rest its claims to permanent interest.

Continental Travel; with an Appendix on the Influence of Climate, the remedial Advantages of Travelling, &c. By Edwin Lee, Esq., Member of the principal European Medical Societies, &c.

The Baths and Watering-places of England, considered with reference to their Curative Efficacy; with Observations on Mineral Waters, Bathing, &c. By Edwin Lee, &c., &c. Second Edition, enlarged. W. J. Adams.

There are plenty of hand-books and guides for mere continental travel, but whether a valetudinarian or not, it appears to us that it must also be, with travellers or sojourners alike, a desideratum to know the comparative claims of different places in a sanitary point of view.

Mr. Lee leads the reader by Boulogne to Paris, thence down the Rhone to Marseilles, and by Montpellier to the Pyrenees. He appears, however, to have visited the latter at an unfavourable season of the year, and to have formed, therefore, an erroneous idea of the severity of the climate. He also perpetuates the error of confounding Cagots with Cretins. From France he proceeds by Nice to Genoa, and thence into Southern Italy, returning by the Simplon and Genoa. Thence into Tyrol, Bavaria, Austria, Bohemia, Saxony, the Rhine, &c., &c. The tour, indeed, comprises every thing worth seeing or recommending in Europe, and as the accuracy and soundness of the author's details can be depended upon, the work cannot but be one of very general utility.

The little book on the watering-places of England may be considered as a complement to that on continental sanatoriums, baths, and wateringplaces. The resources of our little island in that way are so far from being contemptible, that they probably comprise in one form or other, almost every thing that can be obtained from more fashionable because foreign, but not more efficacious sources. Mr. Lee's book is a capital little manual, containing in a small space all that the unprofessional reader can possibly wish to know of the sanitary resources of his own island, and the author possesses the invaluable art of being interesting at the same time that he is scientific. A second edition proves the popularity of this little book.

THE MORAL, SOCIAL, AND PROFESSIONAL DUTIES OF ATTORNIES AND SOLICITORS.*

THE well-known author, Mr. Samuel Warren, having been induced by the Incorporated Law Society to deliver a course of lectures during last Trinity Term, on "The Moral, Social, and Professional Duties of Attornies and Solicitors," we are indebted to the recommendations of the same society for the publication of this highly valuable and interesting course of lectures in its present form. To say that the well-known eloquence and high-feeling of the author pre-eminently characterise a work of this sober and serious nature, would be but trite praise on our part. There is a mixture of firmness and delicacy in dealing with his subject that is truly admirable, and it would have been difficult to have imagined a work better calculated to uphold the station and character of the profession, and to stimulate and benefit its younger members. The author has, at the same time, imparted an interest to his work, beyond that which belongs to mere professional readers. It has been one of his leading objects to show both attornies and solicitors, and their clients, what are their reciprocal rights and duties; that both parties are bound to be honourable, liberal, reasonable, and conscientious, in their intercourse and dealings with each other. He has done this with taste and ability, and he has satisfactorily shown that the interest of the profession of Law (as that of all other professions) and of the public are identical.

The Moral, Social, and Professional Duties of Attornies and Solicitors. By Samuel Warren, Esq., F.R.S., of the Inner Temple, Barrister-at-Law. William Blackwood and Sons.