ich he is shrived by the
Carmelite monk, in his boat, under the midnight moon, upon the Lagoons, is
one of the finest we know of in the whole range of the literature of
fiction, leaving upon the mind a lasting impression of solemn and pathetic
beauty. In "The Chainbearer," the Yankee squatter, Thousandacres, is a
repulsive figure, but drawn with a powerful pencil. The energy of
character, or rather of action, which is the result of a passionate love
of money, is true to human nature. The closing scenes of his rough and
lawless life, in which his latent affection for his faithful wife throws a
sunset gleam over his hard and selfish nature, and prevents it from being
altogether hateful, are impressively told, and are touched with genuine
tragic power.

On the other hand, Cooper generally fails when he undertakes to draw a
character which requires for its successful execution a nice observation
and a delicate hand. His heroes and heroines are apt to abuse the
privilege which such personages have enjoyed, time out of mind, of being
insipid. Nor can he catch and reproduce the easy grace and unconscious
dignity of high-bred men and women. His gentlemen, whether young or old,
are apt to be stiff, priggish, and commonplace; and his ladies, especially
his young ladies, are as deficient in individuality as the figures and
faces of a fashion-print. Their personal and mental charms are set forth
with all the minuteness of a passport; but, after all, we cannot but think
that these fine creatures, with hair, brow, eyes, and lips of the most
orthodox and approved pattern, would do very little towards helping one
through a rainy day in a country-house. Judge Temple, in "The Pioneers,"
and Colonel Howard, in "The Pilot," are highly estimable and respectable
gentlemen, but, in looking round for the materials of a pleasant
dinner-party, we do not think they would stand very high on the list. They
are fair specimens of their class,--the educated gentleman in declining
life,--many of whom are found in the subsequent novels. They are wanting
in those natural traits of individuality by which, in real life, one human
being is distinguished from another. They are obnoxious to this one
general criticism, that the author is constantly reminding us of the
qualities of mind and character on which he rests their claims to favor,
without causing them to appear naturally and unconsciously in the course
of the narrative. The defect we are adverting to m