Crud as the Grave. By the Countess von Bothmer. 3
vols. (H. S. King.)—Readers who have a dislike for the melancholy in fiction—a dislike in which, as we have before taken occasion to say, we heartily sympathize—may rest assured that the Countess von Bothmer's story is less harrowing than its title would lead one to expect. There are two heroines. About the sparkling Ella we never feel any uneasiness. Her destiny is mire, if we know anything of the fates which preside over the world of novels, to be a happy one. The more pensive Lesbia makes us, we will own, very uneasy at times. We shall not be violating a confidence, or making revelations which the author might deprecate, if we quote the concluding words which assure us that though jealousy is "creel as the grave," "love is as strong as death." Meanwhile, before this conclusion is reached, we are taken through some very agitating passages. The story is remarkably interesting, and the pictures of life drawn with vividness and power. The male characters, it is true, are of a somewhat shadowy kind. The most distinct is naturally the least agreeable—a sort of gentlemanly black-leg of the conventional type. As for the gentleman who is made happy with the charming Lesbia, we positively could get out of all the pages concerning him nothing like a definite idea, and the gentleman who was not made happy is hardly more distinct. But the book is worth reading. We must say a word of praise for the excellence of the paper and print, too good almost for such an ephemeron as a three-volume novel.
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