f "Peculiar Institution." The great dramatic fact of the story lies in
the kidnapping of the infant child of wealthy Northern parents who have
been killed in a steamboat-explosion on the Mississippi. The child, a
girl, is saved from the water, but saved by two "mean whites," creatures
and hangers-on of the Slave Power, who take her to New Orleans, and
finally, being in want of money, sell her with other slaves at auction.
In a very graphic and truthful scene, the "vendue" is depicted. About
this little girl, Clara by name, the intensest interest is thenceforth
made to centre. Her every movement is artfully made a matter of moment
to the reader.

Antecedent to the introduction of Clara, the true heroine of the novel,
we have the story of Estelle, also a white slave. At first this story
seems like an episode, but it is soon found to be inextricably
interwoven with the plot. The author has shown remarkable dexterity in
preserving the unity of the action so impressively, while dealing with
such a variety of characters. Like a floating melody or _tema_ in a
symphony or an opera, the _souvenirs_ of Estelle are introduced almost
with the effect of pathetic music. Indeed, to those accustomed to look
at plots as works of art, the constructive skill manifest in this novel
will be not the least of its attractive features.

One word as to the characters. These are drawn with a firm, confident
pencil, as if they were portraits from life. Occasionally, from very
superabundance of material, the author leaves his outline unfilled. But
the important characters are all live and actual flesh and blood. In
Pompilard, a capitally drawn figure, many New-Yorkers will recognize an
original, faithfully limned. In Colonel Delancy Hyde, "Virginia-born,"
we have a most amusing representative of the lower orders of the
"Chivalry." Estelle is a charming creation, and we know of few such
touching love-stories as that through which she moves with such
naturalness and grace. In the cousins Vance and Kenrick we have strongly
marked and delicately discriminated portraits. The negro "Peculiar" is
made to attract much of our sympathy and respect. He is not the buffoon
that the stage and the novel generally make of the black man. He belongs
rather to the class of which Frederick Douglas is a type. It is no more
than poetic justice that from "Peculiar" the book should take its name.

We should say more of the plot, did we not purposely abstain from
marring