The Woodlanders.

From the London Athenæum.

Mr. Hardy seems to have fairly settled down into what his biographers will probably call his second manner. He is less vividly "sensational," less broadly comic, than he was in his first few novels. We no longer get scenes like the discovery of the corpse and the rest at the end of "Desperate Remedies," or the murder of Sergeant Troy; nor anything so provocative of laughter as some parts of "Under the Greenwood Tree;" nor, again, incidents quite so far removed from ordinary probabilities as in some of the earlier works. Everything-pathos and humor alike— is in a subdued key, suggested rather than displayed. Just once and again he seems to yield to the temptation involved in a novelist's omnip

otence over his characters, where in real life we should be perforce content with saying, "I wonder what would happen if—,” and brings them into some situation as unlikely as that where, in the present story, the wife and the two mistresses, actual and cast-off, meet in a common anxiety, just to see, as it were, how they will behave. In point of construction his more recent stories are excellent. "The Woodlanders" appears to us simply perfect in this respect. Every incident contributes to the development of the story; every touch helps to put the reader in the frame of mind in which the author would have him be. The various aspects of the woodland in the midst of which the story is laid, for example, are worked in with inimitable skill, and without the least appearance of straining after scenic effect. That the general drift of the story is melancholy, and its ending unsatisfactory in any but an artistic point of view, is only another evidence of its belonging to Mr. Hardy's present method. The good man suffers; the bad man not only prospers, but, what is almost worse, shows signs of amendment without having been adequately punished. The heroine is in truth a commonplace woman enough, and forgives and forgets on very slight inducement; while the really heroic woman, in her way the sweetest figure that Mr. Hardy has ever drawn, though by a kind of accident she plays a most important part in the development of events, is outside the group of personages who stand in the centre of the story, to some scarcely known, and by all unappreciated. The novel is distinctly not one for the "young person" of whom we have lately heard, but should be read by all who can tell masterly work in fiction when they see it. (Harper. $1.25; pap., 20c.)

Knight-Errant.

From the London Literary World.

It is no small thing to meet with an author who raises our ideal, and, at the same time, makes

us hopeful that human nature may attain to it. This is a characteristic of Miss Edna Lyall's works; one among many charms which render her novels specially helpful and delightful. Those who have read "We Two" and "In the Golden Days" will recall at once the inspiration of characters planned on a great scale—men and women whose sweetness and strength are the outcome of resolute self-mastery, singleness of purpose, and true humility. It is a peculiarity of Miss Lyall, not shared by too many, that she leans invariably to the side of the oppressed, the misunderstood, and even of the conscientiously mistaken. Set a man face to face with the world, from a sense of duty however fallacious, and Miss Lyall takes her stand by him—not covering his errors, but pointing out with the insight of enthuiasm and sympathy the sincerity of motive, the unselfishness of aim which ennoble his blunders, and draw him towards the Right in spite of his, lack of wisdom. In "Donovan," another of Miss Lyall's novels, we see a young man set apart from orthodox respectability by a gulf of early circumstance and association, yet irresistibly attracted by an ideal self-sacrifice to virtue of the noblest kind. So, too, with the infidel father in "We Two," whose conscientious lack of faith is, perhaps, a grander thing than some creeds entertained by believers, so-called. Miss Lyall clearly holds the opinion that, while no creed of itself can make a good man, the aspiration and endeavor of a sincere soul will naturally aid the development of a worthy creed.

Under Carlo's

which lies before us, partakes of the same characteristics as former works by Miss Lyall. The plot, and, indeed, the whole story, is gracefully fresh and very charming. Carlo Donati is the knight-errant, a handsome young Italian, whose father and grandfather have both died, leading a forlorn hope, for their country. simple, genial, almost boyish appearance lie a warm, tender heart, and a courage and fixity of purpose, probably hereditary, which need only some strong motive to send him bravely forward to face danger or defeat. It is in the bright dawn of happy young manhood that he is first introduced.

Carlo's character is indeed most fasci

"

cannot fail (Appleton.

The Old House at Sandwich.

From the N. Y. Mail and Express.

'The Old House at Sandwich," by Mr. Joseph Hatton, is a clever little novel of its kind, the kind being that which depends for its success upon giving its readers as much plot of a stirring sort as they care for in a single story, and in never suffer. ing its interest to flag. The action turns upon the punishment of a scoundrel, who before the story opens contrives to seduce the mother of the hero, and to murder his father, a good, easy, "ne'er-do-weel" painter, whom he has succeeded in ruining by ministering to his passion for strong drink. The boy, who is but ten years old at the time, swears to kill his father's murderer, after which he disappears from the scene, leaving no clue to his whereabouts. The narrator of the story, Horace Maynard, is put in possession of the outline of these facts during a vacation spent at Sandwich, where he is strangely attracted towards a deserted old house in and about which this domestic tragedy was enacted, and where he makes the acquaintance with the old Vicar, who tells him the story. He has loved the high-spirited boy, George Newbolde, and tried to persuade him to forego his revenge, but in vain. Horace Maynard crosses the Atlantic in search of his fortune, and at last finds himself (not having found his fortune) out West, in the mining country, dead broke, with a letter to Dick Drummond, the boss of Drummond's Gulch. The real action of the story commences there and then. It would not be fair to Mr. Hatton to say more than this, for to say more-even to hint who wild, hard-drinking Dick Drummond is-might be to give away an explanation of the plot which Mr. Hatton has so far concealed, and to rob his readers of the surprises which are in store for them. No Engglish story-writer with whom we are acquainted has ever shown himself so familiar with the rough population and rougher ways of our mining camps as Mr. Hatton, whose genius has naturalized itself in the American portions of "The Old House at Sandwich." They are admirably done, with spirit, with humor, and with no more than a pardonable exaggeration. The three last chapters in Part III. are amazingly clever. It is a book to read at a single sitting; to be entertained with two or three hours, and then-but that goes without saying-to speedily forget. (Appleton. pap., 25 c.)

Two Gentlemen of Boston.

From the Boston Beacon.

The novel is anonymous, but there is really no reason why the author, evidently a woman, should not have put her name on the title-page. She has a story to tell-a strange story at that—and she tells it without mincing matters and without any nonsense, sentimental, metaphysical, artistic, or romantic. The characters are true New Englanders rather than Bostonians, the central figure

being Cordelia Rivers, who tells her own story from her fifteenth year and great hardship up to the time of her happy marriage and a little triumph over the man who was unworthy of her. There is also some genuine fun in the story, for instance a little fellow-nine years old—by the name of Mason who insists upon being dressed like a grown-up man and quotes Shakespeare. Calista Comery is a veritable Yankee who says "I vum." The principal man in the story is an eminent surgeon-eminent in all that is good, love included. The story is well told, it is true to life, and it appeals to all sorts of tastes, being neither too heavy for the readers of light literature nor too trivial for the serious student. It

ranks far above the average novel both in plot and conception as well as in workmanlike execution. It reminds one of Mr. Crawford's stories and will amply repay the regular novel-reader as well as the weary mind that wishes for a pleasant and restful entertainment. (Ticknor. $1.50.)

The Startling Exploits of Dr. J. B. Quies.

Lawrence Hutton in Harper's Monthly.

M. Paul Célière declares boldly at the outset that his account of "The Startling Exploits of Dr. J. B. Quiès" is purely a flight of fancy. It is not written for the purpose of enlarging the horizon of thought, of adding anything to the sum of human knowledge, of astonishing the world, or of shocking the foundations of the social edifice. Nor has its author any desire to attempt to turn science or the scientists into ridi cule. M. Célière has too much admiration for the one and too much respect for the other to contemplate for a moment the idea of assailing the rightful position of either. His object is simply to amuse; and amuse he certainly must both his French and his English reader, the one in his original form, the others through the medium of the clever translation of Mrs. Cashel Hoey and Mr. John Lillie. And while no instruction of a scientific, industrial, or moral character is to be obtained from the narration of the marvellous experiences of the hero of the book, they are too interesting and too peculiar to be passed indifferently or disrespectfully by.

THE main object of the LITERARY NEWS is to aid in the dissemination of good literature; and to further this object, the prizes are awarded in books only. They are selected by the winner, and we desire, if possible, to have them bought at the local book-store, or from the bookseller who supplies the LITERARY NEWS. There are five prizes (amounting to $12 on each question), distributed as follows: $4, $3, $2.50, $1.50, $1, for the five winning answers.

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"And as He raised the sick and sad, And bade the aching heart be glad, He gives, in answer to our prayer, Or skill to cure, or grace to bear."

-E. Hastings Weld.

"Awake, thou wintry earth-
Fling off thy sadness!

Fair vernal flowers, laugh forth
Your ancient gladness!
Christ is risen!

"Can there be any day but this,

Though many suns to shine endeavor? We count three hundred, but we missThere is but one, and that one ever."

-George Herbert. "Christ cometh and the earth is glad; earth's large self-conscious heart

A glowing tide of rapture pours through every quickened part."

"Christ the Lord is risen to day, Sons of men and angels say:

Raise your joys and triumphs high,

Sing, ye heavens, and, earth, reply."

-Ch. Wesley.

"Comes first the dawn, and then the glow, and then the fuller day;

And so the Christ, the universal Sun, has marked His way

The dawn was brief, the glow was long, the glory

fills the world,

"To holy tears,

In lonely hours, Christ risen appears;
In social hours, who Christ would see
Must turn all tasks to Charity."

-John Keble.
"In to-day's bright sunlight breaking,
Leave to morrow's cares alone;
Spoil not present joys by asking
Who shall roll away the stone?"
-G: Washington Moon,
"Just as Thy Easter sun to-day
Warms into life each tiny spray,
And all the flowers start,
Thy blessed light of Love divine
Will give at last all souls of Thine
The Easter of the heart.'