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doubt, be labors of love, is evident from the lines of literary work in which they have already distinguished themselves. Mrs. Earle in "Customs and Fashions in Old New England," Miss Wharton in "Through Colonial Doorways," Miss Goodwin in "The Colonial Cavalier," and Miss Brown in "Meadow Grass Tales of New England Life." (Scribner. $1.25.)-Mail and Express.

The Men of the Moss-Hags. MR. CROCKETT has broken new ground with an out-and-out historical or political novel on a subject which is much his own. For he has ever declared his hereditary sympathy, as a "West-Country Whig," with the heroes of the Covenant, and certainly the rough actions and stormy scenes of the seventeenth century in Scotland afford a fine field for the author's descriptive powers, whether of wild nature or of wilder men. More, it is impossible for any one with the smallest imagination or sympathy not to feel much respect for the tenacious fidelity of the hillmen, even though he may be most earnestly convinced that Woodrow was a credulous romancer; that the Whigs after Philiphaugh, and on many another occasion, had set the example of bloodthirstiness; and that their triumph at any time previous to the arrival of the sane, cool-blooded, and tolerant William of Orange would have resulted in the establishment of a cruel ecclesiastical tyranny to which the rule of the latitudinarian curates, selfish statesmen, and bullying dragoons of King Charles would have been mildness itself. Mr. Crockett has rightly chosen for his hero and narrator one of those Earlstoun Gordons, a branch, we believe, of Kenmure, who are the subjects of the only spirited contemporary ballad produced by the Presbyterian partisans. With a deference always paid by romancers to the modern spirit, he has described William Gordon as a political rather than a religious recusant. The confession which he nobly makes at the dread hour when the shadow of the scaffold is before him is conceived in a wiser spirit than most "testimonies" of the time:

"I die (so they recorded my words) in the faith my father taught me, and for which my father died; neither for king nor bishop will I change it. Neither for love nor lands will I recreant or swear falsely. I am a Gordon of Earlstoun. I die for the freedom of this land. God do so to me and more also, if ever I gave my back to a foe, or my shoulder to a friend all the days of my life! That is all my testimony. God have mercy on my sinful soul, for Christ's sake. Amen!"

ignorance and oppression, to say nothing of hot Celtic blood, converted into dangerous fanatics. Yet the glimpses we have of Cameron and Peden are well calculated to command respect. Of Claverhouse we have a tolerably just picture, though Mr. Crockett seems to believe the legend of John Brown of Priesthill in the form made famous by Macaulay. En revanche, Grierson (here called Grier) of Lag, Johnstone (surely the modern e in the Border name is an anachronism), and other local persecutors have the horrid attributes assigned them by tradition. The narrative always touches its best when there is a racy bit of fighting or an unusually close escape in which William Gordon is an actor or a witness. "The Bicker in the Snow" at Holyrood, with the incident of Lochinvar's head, is wonderfully told, as is the strange conversion effected in Wildcat Wat Gordon, Will's Cavalier cousin, on the whole the most life-like portrait in the book. The fight at Ayrsmoss, and the duel between Wat and Peter Inglis are other instances of graphic detail. The women, two-Lady Lochinvar and the brave and pious Maisie, who inspires much of the hero's constancy to his faith-are good and honest flesh and blood. The measure given us is full to a fault; and we could have spared the Wigton martyrdom, the réchauffe and misquotation of the old joke about Clavers and Knox, and the verses on Baldoon, which we fancy Scott used in one of his introductions or notes. But it were unjust to grumble at the generosity of what, to those who can read a Scottish romance of an heroic kind, must prove an intellectual feast. It seems to us better work than Mr. Crockett has done since the days of "The Stickit Minister." (Macmillan. $1.50.) -The Athenæum.

We can feel more sympathy for such a one than for the thorough-going enthusiasts whom

Westminster.

THESE papers by Walter Besant in their original form first appeared in the Pall Mall Magazine. Additions have been made in some of the chapters. especially in the three chapters entitled "The Abbey."

"As in the book entitled 'London,' of which this is the successor, I do not pretend to offer a History of Westminster. The story of the Abbey Buildings, of the Great Functions held in the Abbey, of the Monuments in the Abbey, may be found in the pages of Stanley, Loftie, Dart, and Widmore. The History of the Houses of Parliament belongs to the history of the country, not that of Westminster. It has been my endeavor, in these pages, (1) to show, contrary to received opinion, that the Isle of Bramble was a busy place of trade long before London existed at all. (2) To restore the vanished Palaces of Westminster and White

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In Defiance of the King.

I COME very gladly, to two books from D. Appleton & Co. which fit into this list of useful works admirably. They are both founded on facts-the one on facts of the old Revolution of the last century and the other on incidents of the late Civil War. They are not specially for the young, though they are good books to place within reach of your boys' greedy minds, but appeal to all sorts and conditions of men. "In Defiance of the King" is the title of the first, which is from the pen of Chauncey C. Hotchkiss. It is written in dramatic style, and though I dislike to spend much time on mere stories-for li e is short-I found myself profoundly interested. The plot is good, and the incidents follow in quick succession. It is not an elongated story, and you feel that the author has something of value to communicate and is going in a straight line from chapter first to finis. I think you will find pleasure in it; at any rate, I did. (Pap., 50 c.) -N. Y. Herald.

The Red Badge of Courage.

like the book, and very cheerfully commend it. Indeed, this tendency among writers nowadays to get away from mere fiction and roam through the territory of facts is something to be encouraged. There are dramas in every page of our country's history, and Mr. Hotchkiss and Mr. Crane have found two of them and made good use of them. (Pap., 50 c.)-N. Y. Herald.

At Tuxter's.

"AT Tuxter's" is a cheerful tale of lowly life in London, and is written by G. B. Burgin in what is meant to be the small shopkeeper class dialect. It is not the coster language, or any other well-known London tongue. It is very likely a dialect got up for this story in lieu of learning an accurate one. It is the kind of dialect many writers adopt when they want to quote the speech of the uneducated laboring class not of foreign birth. English writers, however, usually put in many "'ows" and "hawfuls." Mr. Burgin seems to forget to do this generally. Perhaps he omitted them purposely. He doubtless knows more about it than most of us.

THE next is called "The Red Badge of Cour- The Tuxters were a fat old husband who age." It is by Stephen Crane, and is a well- made coffins and a penurious wife who kept a told story. Perhaps it is all the more interesting shop on the corner, and they had no children. because it deals with recent events, and while A little stranger wanders in one day and the we read a crowd of reminiscences force their old fat husband decides to adopt it, notwithway into the mind and demand recognition. I standing the protests of the loud-talking wife.

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In the end it comes out all right, with a discovery of gentle blood and wealth and love and happiness for all.

The book is wholesome and clean and should prove amusing to many readers, which, according to some people, embraces the scope of the novel. (Putnam. $1.)-Commercial Advertiser.

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The Story of a Governess. ONE can always be sure of finding a well-told as well as an entertaining story in a novel of Mrs. Oliphant's. It will be difficult in the multitude of works that have come from her industrious pen to indicate the place to be assigned to "The Story of a Governess," just published. This, however, may be said, that there is in it much of the author's best and most characteristic work, with the facile power, for which Mrs. Oliphant is noted, of sketching character and portraying emotion. Janet, the heroine of the story, is a delightful study, and the reader will not fail to be interested in her and in the incidents and play and movement of the book. The plot is ingenious and not improbable, and the characters, which are more or less fam liar to the readers of Mrs. Oliphant's Scottish novels, are drawn and contrasted with remarkable clever(Fenno. $1.25.)

ness.

IN

Against Human Nature.

From "A Window in Thrums." Copyright, 1895, by R. F. Fenno & Co.

Against Human Nature" Maria Louise Poole shows how an emotional and unconventional North Carolina mountain-girl, Temple Crawford, "experiences religion under the preaching of a cultivated minister, Richard Mercer, who falls in love with her, but who hides his real feelings and asks her to marry him for "regard and mutual helpfulness." Thinking that she can "do great good" in this way, she marries him without loving him-"against human nature" Their religious work together breaks down Temple's health. She goes to the New England home of Almina Drowdy, who had formerly lived with her in North Carolina, to recuperate. While there and away from her husband she suddenly discovers that she loves her hu band even more passionately than he loves her. Miss Pool has made herself so high a standard that it is great satisfaction to note she never sinks below her highest leyel. (Harper. $1.25.)-Providence Sunday Journal.

Three New Novels.

HERE are three handy little volumes, attractively bound, from the Frederick A. Stokes Company. It frequently happens that a busy man wants to go away from carking care for an hour or so, for the sake of mental and physical rest. He does this by going to the theatre of an evening, where he laughs at the follies of the farce. He can accomplish the same purpose by means of a book of fiction-a bit of light literature which does not make too large a drain on his attention. He runs through the story with absorbing interest and gets recreation and refreshment from it. These books will serve him admirably. "The Dead Man's Court'' (75 c.), by Maurice H. Hervey, illustrated by Frank M. Gregory, is just what he needs. The time is not wasted by reading it, for it is a wholesome, breezy book. 'Private Tinker, and other stories" (50 c.), by John Strange Winter, will do very well to occupy a second evening. It will make the time pass quickly, and some of the stories are fascinating. If he is inclined to continue along this line he will find something to tingle his nerves and make him unwilling to go to bed in The Sale of a Soul," by F. Frankfort Moore (75 c.). I shouldn't like anything

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better than a warm day, a hammock under an elm or chestnut, and this bit of a volume. That afternoon would be worth remembering.

The Wise Woman.

"THE Wise Woman" is the excellent title of an excellent story by Clara Louise Burnham, who wrote a romance of the World's Fair a couple of years ago called "Sweet Clover," and who is also the author of "Dr. Latimer" and "Dearly Bought," and several other wholesome American stories.

Miss Burnham-or Mrs. Burnham: woman writers ought to state which they are on the flyleaf-writes realism. It is not offensive realism. It is pretty much the right sort of realism that deals with the ordinary situations of ordinary life with the sympathetic touch that makes the reader recognize something, not wonder at something. That is what one wants when he goes to realism. If he wants a thrill he should seek elsewhere.

It is woman's realism, and is, perhaps, not quite consistent. It is so hard for a woman to be impartial. Two or three characters that the author became very fond of in the writing she could not help making a little nicer than they really would have been, and one or two that he wanted to satirize she could not help making a little more ridiculous than they really would have seemed. Not that one would like the story or Miss Burnham less on that account, however.

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"The Wise Woman is a story of a New York suburb, probably one of the Oranges, and contains much bright but not cutting satire on the society there. The ambitious mother that did not want her two attractive girls to have anything to do with another attractive girl who happened also to earn her own living, saw what a big mistake she had made when the wealthy young doctor that she had selected for one of her daughters married this very same young woman that designed bonnets. And in addition to this, the bonnet designer's handsome brother, who is an electrician or something mechanical, won the heart of the other daughter of the ambitious mother, which makes interesting reading.

In the bringing about of all this the wise woman, who is a bright little old maid who says clever things, plays a quiet but important part. That wise woman is a good one.

There is much of human interest in this book, and the love-story is very pretty. Or, rather, there are two love-stories. They are both pretty. Mrs. Burnham's books always fulfil what is supposed to be the true function of the novel. The humor is genuine, the situations consistently natural. (Houghton, Mifflin & Co. $1.25.)-Commercial Advertiser.

The Beginnings of Writing.

THIS volume is intended to trace the first steps in the development of writing among the North American Indians. Dr. Hoffman is well qualified to do this work. He has been an enthusiastic student of American ethnology, was with Lieutenant Wheeler's expedition into Nevada and Arizona in 1871, post-surgeon in Dakota in 1872, when he was able to study the ethnology of the Sioux, and later, in connection with Professor Haydon's survey and in the Bureau of Ethnology, continued work and study among the American Indians. Linguistics, pictography, and religions have received his prolonged and devoted attention. The volume before us seems to be what was to be expected from such an author. Beginning with a general definition of pictography it proceeds to show what Indian monuments remain of it on stone and other materials, how they are to be interpreted, their interpretation as symbols, as gesture signs and attributes, mnemonic signs, and conventional signs and comparisons. The book is one of great interest as a study in the philosophy of expression, written from a full knowledge and on a broad basis of comparative criticism. (Appleton. $1.75.)-The Independent.

A Singular Life.

THIS is a story of remarkable power and significance, dealing with the experience of a young clergyman who, regarded as unsound by the ecclesiastical council called to instal him in a church, takes up with a humble life of service in the seaport town to which he had been called, but in the abandored quarter of the town. Here he sets up the Church of the Love of Christ, for his own life is an attempt at realizing the life of Christ of reality, and struggles single-handed with the vice, especially the intemperance, in the midst of which he lives. There is no repulsive scene-painting, but the characters of liquor dealers, fishermen, and plain people are sharply drawn. The golden thread of romance which runs through the story is the love which springs up between the hero and the daughter of the old professor of divinity, a picturesque and brilliant girl. The heroic struggles of this single-hearted man in the spirit of absolute devotion and self-forgetfulness, the stormy experiences through which he passed, and the crowning success which the heavens granted-all this, told as only Miss Phelps could tell it, makes A Singular Life" a story of thrilling interest and of profound suggestion. The woman who marries the devoted preacher is a fine character-study. Her keen sense of humor and true pride are inimitably pictured. (Houghton, Mifflin & Co. $1.25.)

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