school--but few,
especially in the Atlantic cities, know what becomes of culture among
men and women who 'work and weave in endless motion' in the
counting-house, or factory, or through daily drudgery and the reverses
from wealth to poverty. Others have treated a single **o [transcriber's
note: illegible word] of life, dramatically and by events, as well as
Miss HARDING, but no one American has dared such intricacies of thought
and character in individuals--has raised them to such a height, and
developed them with such a powerful will, without falling into
conventionalism or improbability. Unlike most novels, its 'plot,' though
excellent, is its least attraction--we can imagine that the superb pride
which gleams out in so many rifts has induced the author to voluntarily
avoid display of that ingeniously spinning romantic talent in which
novelists excel precisely in proportion to their lack of all nobler
gifts. It is a certain rule, as to literary snobs, that in proportion as
the food which they give diminishes in excellence, does the plate on
which it is served increase in value. But let none imagine that
_Margaret Howth_ lacks _interest_--it is replete with burning, vivid,
thrilling interest--it has the attraction which fascinates _all_
readers, based in a depth of knowledge so extraordinary that it can be
truly appreciated by but few. The immense popularity which it has
acquired and the general praise awarded it by the press, proves that it
has gone right to the hearts of the people--whence it came.

Those who accuse _Margaret Howth_ of harshness and a lack of
winsomeness, have neither understood the people whom it describes nor
the degree of stern strength requisite to wrest from life and nature
fresh truth. The pioneers of every great natural school (and every
indication shows that one is now dawning) have quite other than
lute-sounding tasks in hand, however they may hunger and thirst for
beauty, love, and rose-gardens. Under the current of this book runs the
keenest, painfulest craving to give freely to life these very
elements--its intensest inner-spirit is of love and beauty; it throbs
and burns with a sympathy for suffering humanity which is at once fierce
and tearful. As regards the minor artistic defects of _Margaret Howth_,
they are, if we regard it entirely, the shadows inseparable from its
substance, felt by those who remain in them, but in no wise detracting
from the beauty of the edifice when we regard i