oul,
be it in library or laboratory, and one sickens and resists.

Mr. Hawthorne wisely lays the scene of his story in Germany. The
rarefied condition of the German mind is recognized the world over,
and through the everlasting smoke of philosophers' and students' pipes
one is prepared for all sorts of fantastic shapes moving through the
mist. The author opens with a talk on occult subjects that sounds like
voices heard in a fog-bank. With the reader thus prepared, he plunges
him into a drama where substantial men and women mingle with spirits,
and the strange story does overcome us like a summer's cloud, without
our special wonder.

We have said the story holds one spellbound till near the end. The
_denoument_ is not good. "Calling spirits from the vasty deep" is much
easier than disposing of them after they come. To give a satisfactory
explanation of the mystery, and to exorcise the spirit back to rest,
make no easy task, and Mr. Hawthorne is not to blame for finding it
difficult.

We cannot drop the book without calling attention to the author's
happy use of English, in depicting character. Here is a specimen:

"Madame Hertrugge was white, red, and black. Her skin was white, her
cheeks and lips red, her hair, eyes, and eyebrows black. Her mouth was
beautifully formed, and firm, with a firm chin. Her eyes were rather
full, imperious, and ardent. She was overflowing with vitality. The
hand which she extended to one in greeting was soft but strong, with
long fingers. She was dressed in black, as became her recent
widowhood; but she had not the air of mourning much. She was sensuous,
voluptuous, but there was strength behind the voluptuousness. You
received from her a powerful impression of sex. Every line of her,
every movement, every look, was woman. And she made you feel that she
valued you just so far as you were man. You might be as nearly Caliban
as a man can be, but if you were a man she would consider you. You
might court her successfully with a horsewhip, but if she felt the
master in you, and were convinced that you were captivated by her, she
would accept you. It was ludicrous to think of the senile old merchant
having married such a creature. In fact, marriage, viewed in
connection with this woman, seemed an absurdity. There was nothing
holy about her, nothing reserved, nothing sacred. I don't mean that
she was not ladylike, as the phrase is. She knew the society
catechism, and practised it to a nicety,