ersations. The
atmosphere of the book is one of refined taste and high culture. The
people in it, with scarce an exception, are people who mean to be good,
and who are handsome, polite, accomplished, and rich, or at least
surrounded by the conveniences and even luxuries of life. It is a
story, too, for the most part, of cultivated enjoyment. There are
sufferings and sorrows depicted in it, it is true; without them, it
would be no representation of real life, which it does not fail to be.
Some tears will undoubtedly be shed over it, but the sufferings and
sorrows are such that we feel they are, after all, leading to
happiness; and we are not made to dwell upon pictures of unnecessary
misery or unavailing misfortune. Let it not be supposed, however, that
we are speaking of a namby-pamby tale of the luxuries and successes of
what is called "high life," for this book has nothing of that
character. We mean only to point out, as far as we may, without
entering upon the story itself, that it tells of pleasant people, in
pleasant circumstances, among whom it is a pleasure to the reader for a
time to he. Many a novel "ends well" that keeps us in a shudder or a
"worry" from the beginning to the end. Here we see the enjoyment as we
go along. Indeed, a leading characteristic of "Vernon Grove" is the
extremely good taste with which it is conceived and written; and so we
no more meet with offensive descriptions of vulgar show and luxury than
we do with those of squalor or moral turpitude. It is a book marked by
a high tone of moral and religious as well as artistic and esthetic
culture. Without being made the vehicle of any set theories in
philosophy or Art, without (so far as we know) "inculcating" any
special moral axiom, it embodies much good teaching and suggestion with
regard to music and painting, and many worthy lessons for the mind and
heart. This is done, as it should be, by the apparently natural
development of the story itself. For, as we have said, the book is
really a novel, and will be read as a novel should be, for the story,
and not, in the first instance and with deliberation, with the critical
desire to find out what lessons it teaches or what sentiments it
inspires.

The narrative covers a space of several years, but is so told that we
are furnished with details rather than generalities; and particular
scenes, events, and conversations are set forth vividly and minutely.
The descriptions of natural scenery, and of