and Women ; or, Manorial Rights," showed a similar wealth of invention in melodramatic action, and a similar defect of skill in the apparatus for the evolution of its plot. Circumstantial evidence was again the pivot of its progress; but that Groves, the Courvoisier of the tale, should never have been suspected, while so many respectable people were, puzzled such readers as saw from the first "how the land lay."
"Lilly Dawson" belongs to the same "excitement" school. In construction, it showed no advance of tact upon its predecessors. But its tone was, on the whole, more healthy, its observation of life more keen and probing, and its array of characters more true to both nature and art. Nowhere, probably, has Mrs. Crowe wrought up scenes of terror with more grisly effect than in this romance—for example, Lilly's unobserved presence amid the smugglers who bring home the corpse—and its repetition in the case of the murder of Charlotte Littenhaus by her brother Luke. But then, again, she has nowhere, probably, evidenced such care and mastery in the development of character and the by-ways of the human heart. The gradational transition of Lilly from a state of dense, crass, impenetrable obtuseness, and the adjustment of the means necessary to this revolution, are effected with remarkable talent, and testify to the author's acquaintance with psychology, and, we may add, to her ability to sustain a loftier part than has usually been her choice in fiction—even had we not the instance of her neglected, but meritorious play, "Aristodemus," to give confirmatory witness on this point. How Lilly’s heart awoke her intellect—how a few days of sunshine swelled the bud that had been nipped by bitter east winds—how kindness made her begin to feel, and feeling induced thought—how a sudden impulse of affection unfolded to her some faint ideas of what human life was, or should be, and of how the world was held together—and how the vibration of a chord thus struck, by exciting her love, awakened dormant faculties of keen vitality and large compass—this educational process is ably portrayed. There is consistent reality, too, about the character of May Elliott, kindly yet selfish, imposing and dashing—"a riddle far beyond Lilly's guessing," who is too happy in being permitted to adore May, and in believing nobody to be so clever, and wise, and good, and handsome—so great is the effect of her fashionable dress and fine ladyism. O}d Abel White, again, interests us, with his fond memory of his dead and gone Matty, and his ready love for the humblest of God's creatures. Winny and Shorty manage the low comedy with tolerable success—Luke and Jacob Littenhaus are still better in the tragic business—and of the other actors, Philip Ryland and his mother, Giles and Martha Lintock, Colonel Adams, and Master Freddy, not one is a mere lay figure, or even marionette, but they all tread the stage with appropriate demeanour, and contribute to the nexus of the drama.
A veritable bonne bouche for epicures in supernaturalism is the "Nightside of Nature; or, Ghosts and Ghost-seers." Its bill of fare contains many a dainty dish to set before the king—of terrors himself. Highly spiced entremets abound, and certain formidable and, to some constitutions, indigestible pièces de résistance. Spectres, wraiths, doubles, presentiments, and mesmerism in all its phases of faith, are served up ungrudgingly, and never under-done; for the purveyor is au fait in the mysteries of her art. Committing ourselves to her guidance, we enter darkling a region of
