New-York tribune., 1879-03-11

art the simple beauty OF ner naturo Wits "''Ni
sal sympathy; even the common sailors pause ih
wonder before her charming ways; and tho ad-
mrable graces of her intellect are finely brought
out in the random conversations OF the shipS uech'
One youne man on the scanty list of passengers has
clearly met his fate before landing at trieste ana
during the soourn at Venice no cloud Is leis ou no
horoscope Of the young lovers.
An entire change comes over the scene IN VENICE
and the family circle into which Lydia is intro
duccd furnishes the author with fresh materials lor
the exercise Of his satrical and descriptive powers.
She finds her uncle (by marriage) tall slender
Engsbman of fifty-fve or sixty with stralght
gray mustache not at all the wcll-fed, claret-
coored typical Engshman of tradition, but much
more Engish-looEIng than if he had been' lhey
were good friends at once; Lydas beauty
took HIM by surprise: he treated her with fathery
kindness and a certain colonial British gal
lantry "such as ono secs III elderly Cana
dian gentlemen attentive TO quito young cana
dian ladies at the provincial watering-placeS'
She was at her with him, and treated him as II
he were an old gentleman He had a mania for the
detection of Americanisms in the conversation OF
the American girl, of which the author presents an
amusing collection that the whimsical old virtuoSo
had succeeded IN running down. The tone OF Eng
ish society in Venice, with which Mrs Howells is so
q series of humorous examples from real life, which
are far more entertaining, and not less effective,
than any spasms of ill-natured, caustic criticism
! Tic time at last arrives for the completion OF
| Lydas European visit. but first she was mar
ried to her youthful adorcr in an OLD PrOt-
cstant church, before the altar under lluah
beautiful picture of Christ breaking bread. 1he
happv pair soon after return to America, and set
lie in California. meantime paying visit 10 the
ancient farmhouse among the gray and gloomy
Massachusetts, hills. The journey was made III the
depths of Winter The country, stern and wild even
in midsummer wore an aspect OF savage desolation
1t was shected in heavy snow, through which Il
cracgy bowldernow and then grimly looked out the
stnnted pines and hemlocks in the woods blackencd
against a background of eaness oaks and birches
a northwest wind cut srll across the white wastes,
while the sun, as high as that of Italy, codly
beamed from the blue and clOudess sky. The I'M
preston made on the youthful husband was by no
means cheerful. When he the village houses,
so widely separated by the one long street.
each with It's path tunnelled through the
SHOW from the roadway to the gate,
the old meeting house looking blue-cold with
its thin coat of white pant, the church-yaId
in the midst OF the village, and showing as many
signs of life any other spot he could not conceal
his delight that be had taken his bride from such
sombre surroundings to cOnGenial sphere. he
effect of the young mans manners ard cOnvcTSa-
ton on the primitive couple, 1t must be confessed
was a little doubtful The pastor of the parish.
with his wife and two or three unmarried ladies had
dropped in during the evening, which the smooth
tOngued stranger made brilliant with his talk, as
to seem almost wicked to the tender heart Of Aunt
Maria. The sage grandfather could not but give
utterance to his scruples. "Wc there, Mara y
he said you can't say but what he's mastcr-hand
to converse, anyhow. ] d'know as | ever
see Mr.. GOodloW SO struck up with any
one He looked az if every word done
hlln good; l presume it put him in mind Of
meetin's with lns brother Minister'S | don't
suppose but what he misses it some, here. You can't
say but what he's fine appealin young man.
dknOw us | see anything wrong III his KIND OF
dTCSsIn' up to the nines as you may say. As longs
he, got the money, don't see what harm IL Is
It's all worked for good Lyddy's gong out that
way; though it did seem mysterious providence at
the time" Aunt Maria was not quite 50 sure but
on the whole made up her mind to acQuiesce i'll the
dispeusation. al don't say but what he talked
well enough, so far forth as the tdlkin goes; Mr.
Goodlow said at the door I he didn't knows lie
ever passed many such evenings since he'd been III
South BradEeld, and d'Inow as have. presume
he has his faults; we amt any of perfect but he
docs seem terribly wrapped up in Lyddy. don't
say but what he'll make her good husband, if she
must hare one. don't suppose but what people
might think, as you may say, It she'd made out
pretty well and if Lyddy suited d'hnow as any
body else has got any call to be over Particular
The Lady of the ArOosook" will not only be ac
cepted in the most intelligent literary circles as
production Of true originality and power, but Will
meet with a large share of popular approval as a
genuine picture Of some of The quaint and hOmely
aspects Of primitive NewEngland life. Mr.. llowelss
tendencies are evidently toward the refined and
subtle analysis Of delicate points of character, but
he Is not betrayed by the Indulgence of keen in
sight into the neglect Of external scenes which open
a rich fund of humOr and points for vivid and ex-
pressive description. Although not " to the man
ncr born" his command of the rustic vernaculaT of
New-England is mastery. He uses it as it falls
from the lips of the native speakers, with no at
tempt to heighten its effect by novel artificial color
ing HIS skill in this respect is shown net so much
IN the choice of characteristic words, in the
whole tone aud construction of sentences, seizing
the very spirit and life Of the idom, which is al
difficult to reproduce as the perfume of the
May flower. or the Odors of the pine woods.