f this, or any nature, honestly
argued, it is, better, surely, to apply to an indifferent person for
an umpire. For instance, the stealing of pocket-handkerchiefs or
snuff-boxes may or may not be vicious; but if we, who have not the wit,
or will not take the trouble to decide the question ourselves, want to
hear the real rights of the matter, we should not, surely, apply to a
pickpocket to know what he thought on the point. It might naturally be
presumed that he would be rather a prejudiced person--particularly
as his reasoning, if successful, might get him OUT OF GAOL. This is a
homely illustration, no doubt; all we would urge by it is, that Madame
Sand having, according to the French newspapers, had a stern husband,
and also having, according to the newspapers, sought "sympathy"
elsewhere, her arguments may be considered to be somewhat partial, and
received with some little caution.

And tell us who have been the social reformers?--the haters, that is,
of the present system, according to which we live, love, marry, have
children, educate them, and endow them--ARE THEY PURE THEMSELVES? I do
believe not one; and directly a man begins to quarrel with the world and
its ways, and to lift up, as he calls it, the voice of his despair, and
preach passionately to mankind about this tyranny of faith, customs,
laws; if we examine what the personal character of the preacher is, we
begin pretty clearly to understand the value of the doctrine. Any one
can see why Rousseau should be such a whimpering reformer, and Byron
such a free and easy misanthropist, and why our accomplished Madame
Sand, who has a genius and eloquence inferior to neither, should take
the present condition of mankind (French-kind) so much to heart, and
labor so hotly to set it right.

After "Indiana" (which, we presume, contains the lady's notions upon
wives and husbands) came "Valentine," which may be said to exhibit her
doctrine, in regard of young men and maidens, to whom the author would
accord, as we fancy, the same tender license. "Valentine" was followed
by "Lelia," a wonderful book indeed, gorgeous in eloquence, and rich in
magnificent poetry: a regular topsyturvyfication of morality, a
thieves' and prostitutes' apotheosis. This book has received some late
enlargements and emendations by the writer; it contains her notions on
morals, which, as we have said, are so peculiar, that, alas! they only
can be mentioned here, not particularized: but of "Spiridi