In "The Duchess Emilia," Mr. Wendell has given us a book which is strangely at odds with the tendency of novel writing at the present time. Don Quixote, armed for the fray, would present no stranger figure in our streets than does this romance among the novels of to-day. For instead of minute analysis of his characters, Mr. Wendell has told us in straightforward and manly language a story of men and women who were swayed and tormented by great passions. Oftentimes in this age of realism, one grows tired of so much analytical fiction, for life is by no means so simple a matter as analysis would seem to show. And so it is with an added pleasure that we find here a tale whose very remoteness has a distinct charm in that it brings before us moods and motives as far removed from our everyday lives as is darkness from light.

The plot of the book is fanciful and strong. Many of the situations are dramatic and intense in feeling, and the fantastic moods of the central character, Richard Beverly, are admirably worked out. But although, as a whole, we heartily commend the plot, there are a number of instances where, it seems to us, its development has been uneven and almost weak. The incidents are not always up to the pitch of dramatic strength which the plot requires, and the book seems at times strangely to lack a centain intensity of emotion which it ought to possess. In several of the climances that occur in the course of the story, the feeling is not sustained enough, and the situations fail to give their proper effect-the real effect produced on the reader being a slight sense of artificiality, Such a description of Beverly's character as is given in the first chapter by repeating a few stories of his childhood seems not only totally unnecessary, but entirely out of accord with the main tone of the book.

The story is told throughout in terse and vigorous English, and Mr. Wendell's style strikes us as both forcible and graceful. The many descriptions, in particular, are remarkably well done. However, one may regard the weirdness of the story, and the fancifulness of the plot, everyone will agree that as a piece of literary workmanship the book is almost perfect. There are some vague and rather meaningless sentences scattered through it, but all in all, the manner in which the story is written is beyond criticism.

The general effect produced by the book is thoroughly pleasing, and the story will easily take a foremost place among the best romances of late years. We believe that "The Duchess Amelia" places Mr. Wendell in the front rank of our younger authors. No work that has come before our notice of late has given more promise, or shown more strength than this latest addition to American fiction.