resentation of the most hateful phase of English character,
is one of the most vividly true and life-like of all the delineations in
the book, and more of a typical personage than even Becky or the Marquis
of Steyne. Thackeray's theory of characterization proceeds generally on
the assumption that the acts of men and women are directed not by
principle, but by instincts, selfish or amiable,--that toleration for
human weakness is possible only by lowering the standard of human
capacity and obligation,--and that the preliminary condition of an
accurate knowledge of human character is distrust of ideals and
repudiation of patterns. This view is narrow, and by no means covers
all the facts of history and human life, but what relative truth it has
is splendidly illustrated in "Vanity Fair." There is not a person in the
book who excites the reader's respect, and not one who fails to excite
his interest. The morbid quickness of the author's perceptions of the
selfish element, even in his few amiable characters, is a constant
source of surprise. The novel not only has no hero, but implies the
non-existence of heroism. Yet the fascination of the book is
indisputable, and it is due to a variety of causes besides its mere
exhibition of the worldly side of life. Among these, the perfect
intellectual honesty of the writer, the sad or satirical sincerity with
which he gives in his evidence against human nature, is the most
prominent. With all his lightness of manner, he is essentially a witness
under oath, and testifies only to what he is confident he knows. Perhaps
this quality, rare not only in novel-writing, but in all writing, would
not compensate for the limitation of his perceptions and the
repulsiveness of much that he perceives, were it not for the peculiar
charm of his representation. It is here that the individuality of the
man appears, and it presents a combination of sentiments and powers more
original perhaps than the matter of his works. Take from "Vanity Fair"
that special element of interest which comes from Thackeray's own
nature, and it would lose the greater portion of its fascination. It is
not so much what is done, as the way in which it is done, that surprises
and delights; and the manner is always inimitable, even when the matter
is common.

_Seaside and Fireside Fairies._ Translated from the German of
George Blum and Louis Wahl. By A. L. WISTAR. Philadelphia:
Ashmead & Evans.

These pretty fa