human misery is ever intolerable, is that it is not attempted to cure it by means of such; for the least and lowest result of their possession is the power of postponing this world to the next; of living upon the future, renouncing "the life that now is;" though a more complete subjection to the law of Christ has the promise of this life also.

We can but glance at the thoughts which are suggested by the reading of these books. The power of the writer is obvious; and there is a certain awe attending the contemplation of genius, as of beauty, which bids us beware with what intent we approach it in the spirit of criticism. But something more even than genius is required for the production of philosophical novels; and it becomes the well-principled writer to examine long and anxiously into the true scope and bearing of the views and maxims which he is about to disseminate in this form. Especially should he hesitate about attacking thus any of the institutions which have been adopted by common consent for the well-being of society; since the darts which, if wrapt in dull essays, would fall harmless to the ground will find their way, winged with fancy and pointed by wit, directly to the susceptible young heart, there to remain for good or evil. To send them at random, therefore, to show one's skill, or maliciously, to revenge one's-self upon society for what we judge to have been its injustice towards us, were a deadly sin, and it is one which we are far from charging upon this writer, whom we see to be serious, and believe to be benevolent. But though powerful to pull down, her suggestions as to re-building we look upon as impracticable, and happily so. To discredit the institution of marriage, because some individuals of unrenewed hearts and roving imaginations and ungoverned passions find misery in it, would be as wise, in our view, as to leave off building houses because some one in passing

had been hurt by a brick falling on his head, which brick he had himself caused to fall by some act of ignorance or presumption. So to advocate a complete forgetfulness of every natural tie, every habit and prejudice, all those powerful, imperative associations on which so much of the enjoyment of daily life depends, in forming a connection, the happiness of which must be made up of correspondences and harmonies not a little depending upon these very things, seems no less insane, than to transplant a native of the tropics to Greenland, in order that he may there enjoy to the full the ice which he found so refreshing under his burning sun; or to show our kindness to a New-Zealander by setting him down alone in the midst of London.

While the suggestions of George Sand as to social errors and abuses evince acute perception, her notions of remedial measures seem to us futile, and almost childish, in their short-sightedness. Her own sorrows and errors fit her in part for the office she has chosen; but she has not yet reached a point from which she can look back upon the past without passion, and passion is a bad adviser. Wisdom implies coolness and impartiality; breadth of views is the fruit of maturity of experience, and can hardly be expected while the sting of experience is still rankling. We willingly class her with the seekers after truth, but cannot concede to her a place among discoverers. And herein lies the mischief which we conceive her works capable of doing. Notions in reality crude and narrow, seem, in the light of her genius and expressive power, full of generous, all-embracing humanity and remedial wisdom. Inexperienced and ardent minds, fascinated by her grace, her noble sentiments, her tenderness, her sympathy with all those passionate feelings in which so many young people believe happiness to

consist, adopt her as a leader promising glorious things, and able by her great gifts to aid in the accomplishment of what she promises. Next to the pleasure of talking about one's-self to a sympathizing listener, is reading the expression of one's secret thoughts by another and a superior mind. It is the gratification of egotism without the shame. It is fostering the favourite passions, without the counterbalancing sense of danger. George Sand is the unsuspected flatterer of all who are discontented with their own lot, and who find gratification in shifting the responsibility from themselves to society and its institutions and abuses.

With all her grace and elegance-all her truthfulness and courage all the fascinations of her style, and all the charm of her humanity, we cannot recommend her as a safe guide to the young and enthusiastic, though we should be untrue to our convictions if we denied that many of her works may profitably be studied by the mature, who are capable of profiting by generous suggestions, and yet not likely to be led into wild and unhappy attempts to realize theories seeming noble, but in reality imperfect, if not unsound.

It is worthy of notice that all the philsoophical novels of the day agree in one particular-in ascribing all the ills under which society. groans to neglect or misapprehension of the Spirit of the Gospel, and deciding all hope of remedy to rest upon a new and loving reception of it in all its stringency and sweetness. This is certainly very different from the 'philosophy, falsely so called' of Voltaire and his contemporaries, and shows the progress we have made towards the true light. All we want now is to carry our spirit of discovery far enough, and to follow whithersoever it shall lead us, with courage and humility. Blessed will be the day when we re

cognize not only sentimentally or superstitiously, but intelligently and heartily, the great truth shadowed forth in these words:

This is the stone which was set at naught of you builders, which is become the head of the corner; neither is there salvation in any other for there is none other name under heaven given among men whereby we must be saved. God speed the day, and send us teachers who shall consecrate their genius, with all its radiant concomitants, to the elucidation of what is still a mystery and a stumbling block to many a gifted and truly honest and well-disposed mind.

AUTHORS.

To young people of lively and romantic imaginations, there is nothing so fascinating as the stage and those who tread it. Before the world has shed over them its chilling influence, and opened to their trustful minds its mortifying truths, they never believe that the hero of to-night may be the gambler or the sot of to-morrow; still less, that the graceful Viola, or the tender Juliet, who sighs and weeps in satin and diamonds, may be found at certain seasons quarrelling in the green-room like a tigress, or slipshod and uncombed, conning her well-thumbed lesson in the den. of a slattern. They know, indeed, that these people are not exactly the beings whose sentiments delight them; yet they cherish the grateful illusion that they must be at least souls of similar tone, or they could not give so movingly the thoughts of Ion or of Julia. They do not suppose a 'vocalist' to be eternally singing, or a tragedian' to sleep in his buskins; but it never enters their heads that these idols of their evening worship can, at other times, condescend to be mere mortals like themselves, or-'sadly unlike anything so innocent.'

The moment the mystery is unfolded, the illusion vanishes. The