sionate pride of the wounded woman; the stern sorrow of the man; and the final separation, are all true to the instincts of that master feeling.
In 1845 appeared “Praise and Principle,” a fiction of the same size as the others just named.
The hero of the story, Frank Derwent, is an American boy, and is introduced to the reader while at school. After graduating at college he studies law, and at last by energy and a steadfast adherence to truth and principle, attains a high position as a lawyer, and wins the hand of a fair client. The foil to this character is Charles Ellersby, a school companion of Frank, and a competitor in the world for the praise that Frank discards for the love of the dearer right. Frank wins an honourable name and a happy home, while Charles receives, as a bitter punishment, that curse of manhood, a fashionable wife,—and in a year is ruined.
The whole work illustrates the character of the author, and her constant endeavour to write not so much for the entertaining powers of the tale, which is for a day, but for the inner life of the story, that is for all time.
“The Cousins, a Tale for Children,” appeared in the latter part of the same year. This is a small volume, originally written for the series of Aunt Kitty’s Tales, and is the last work she has published anonymously.
In 1847 was published “Two Lives, or To Seem and To Be,” and with it the name of the author, who had heretofore been unknown. The success that it won may be estimated by the fact that it reached a seventh edition in less than four years from its publication.
In 1848 appeared “Charms and Counter Charms,” a work of greater size and power, and on the most complex plan of any yet written by our author, and received with so great favour that it is already in its sixth edition.
Miss McIntosh here treats of a subject that woman seldom attempts, and the bearing of the tale is mainly on this one point; namely, the necessity of the marriage rite not only for the morality of the world, but for the morality, happiness, fidelity, and religion of any individual couple.
Euston Hastings, the hero of the story, a man somewhat on the Byronic order, whom having seen you turn to watch, scarcely knowing why, wins and marries a young girl, Evelyn Beresford. But before the marriage, and after the engagement, he declares to the lady of his choice his so-called liberal views on the subject of religion.
Not long after, Evelyn asks his views in regard to marriage. The man of the world replies—
“I answer you with confidence, because I know such is your affinity with purity and truth that you will discover them though they appear in forms which conventionalism condemns; and I tell you, without disguise, that I think marriage unnecessary to secure fidelity where there is love, and insufficient where there is not.”
The revelation of these foreign views does not, however, alienate the
