ert's shame in such a father, and
his half-regret that it had not been a brave, bad man like Sandy Flash
instead. Barton's punishment is finely worked out. The fact of the
marriage had been brought to the old man's knowledge before his death,
and he had so changed his will as to leave the money intended for his
son to his son's deeply wronged wife; and, after the public assertion of
their rights at the funeral, Gilbert and his mother coldly withdraw from
the wretched man, and leave him, humiliated before the world he dreaded,
to seek the late reconciliation which is not accomplished in this book.
It is impossible to feel pity for his sufferings; but one cannot repress
the hope that Mary and her son will complete the beauty of their own
characters by forgiving him at last.

It seems to us that this scene of Mary Potter's triumph at the funeral
is the most effective in the whole book. Considering her character and
history, it is natural that she should seek to make her justification as
signal and public as possible. The long and pitiless years of shame
following the error of her youthful love and ambition, during which the
sin of attempting to found her happiness on a deceit was so heavily
punished, have disciplined her to the perfect acting of her part, and
all her past is elevated and dignified by the calm power with which she
rights herself. She is the chief person of the drama, which is so pure
and simple as not to approach melodrama; and the other characters are
merely passive agents; while the reader, to whom the facts are known,
cannot help sharing their sense of mystery and surprise. We confess to a
deeper respect for Mr. Taylor's power than we have felt before, when we
observe with what masterly skill he contrives by a single incident to
give sudden and important development to a character, which, however
insignificant it had previously seemed, we must finally allow to have
been perfectly prepared for such an effect.

The hero of the book, we find a good deal like other heroes,--a little
more natural than most, perhaps, but still portentously noble and
perfect. He does not interest us much; but we greatly admire the
heroine, Martha Deane, whom he loves and marries. In the study of her
character and that of her father, Mr. Taylor is perfectly at home, and
extremely felicitous. There is no one else who treats Quaker life so
well as the author of the beautiful story of "Friend Eli's Daughter";
and in the opposite c