ed to life;
But yours, your dull, cold mud, was froze to being.
_I would not be the oyster that you are
For all the pearls of wisdom in your shell!_

All the persons of the play are vivid and life-like. With the
beginning of the third act the interest becomes intense, and nothing
could be more vigorous and touching than the action and depth of
pathos toward the close of the piece. Every page teems with fine
thoughts and images, which lead us to believe that the mine from which
this book is a specimen, contains a golden vein of poetry which will
go far to enrich our native literature.

_Literary Sketches and Letters: Being the Final
Memorials of Charles Lamb, Never before Published. By
Thomas Noon Talfourd. New York: D. Appleton & Co. 1
vol. 12mo._

The present work is important in more respects than one. It was needed
to clear up the obscurity which rested on several points of Lamb's
life, and it was needed to account for some of the peculiarities of
his character. The volume proves that this most genial and kindly of
humorists was tried by as severe a calamity as ever broke down the
energies of a great spirit, and the frailties commonly associated with
his name seem almost as nothing compared with the stern duties he
performed from his early manhood to his death. The present volume is
calculated to increase that personal sympathy and love for him, which
has ever distinguished the readers of Lamb from the readers of other
authors, and also to add a sentiment of profound respect for his
virtues and his fortitude. The truth is that Lamb's intellect was one
of the largest and strongest, as well as one of the finest, among the
great contemporary authors of his time, and it was altogether owing to
circumstances, and those of a peculiarly calamitous character, that
this ample mind left but inadequate testimonials of its power and
fertility. He is, and probably will be, chiefly known as an original
and somewhat whimsical essayist, but his essays, inimitable of their
kind, were but the playthings of his intellect.

Talfourd has performed his editorial duties with his usual taste and
judgment, and with all that sweetness and grace of expression which
ever distinguishes the author of Ion. His sketches of Lamb's
companions are additions to the literary history of the present
century. Lamb's own letters, which constitute the peculiar charm of
the book, are admirable--the serious ones being vi