In countries where all the social and political action is concentrated around the throne, where a pretty woman may decide the policy of a reign, a royal marriage plunge nations into war, and the disgrace of a favorite cause the downfall of a party, such persons find an ample field for the exercise of the arts upon which they depend for success.  The history and romance of Modern Europe are full of them; they crowd the pages of Macaulay and Scott.  But the full sunlight of our republican life leaves no lurking-place for the mere trickster.  Doubtless, selfish purposes influence our statesmen, as well as the statesmen of other countries; but such purposes cannot be accomplished here by the means which effect them elsewhere.  He who wishes to attract the attention of a people must act publicly and with reference to practical matters; but the ear of a monarch may be reached in private.  Therefore there is a certain monotony in the lives of most of our public men; they may be read in the life of one.  It is, generally, a simple story of a poor youth, who was born in humble station, and who, by painful effort in some useful occupation, rose slowly to distinguished place,—­who displayed high talents, and made an honorable use of them.  Aaron Burr, however, is an exception.  His adventures, his striking relations with the leading men of his time, his romantic enterprises, the crimes and the talents which have been attributed to him, his sudden elevation, and his protracted and agonizing humiliation have attached to his name a strange and peculiar interest.  Mr. Parton has done a good service in recalling a character which had well-nigh passed out of popular thought, though not entirely out of popular recollection.

As to the manner in which this service has been performed, it is impossible to speak very highly.  The book has evidently cost its author great pains; it is filled with detail, and with considerable gossip concerning the hero, which is piquant, and, if true, important.  The style is meant to be lively, and in some passages is pleasant enough; but it is marked with a flippancy, which, after a few pages, becomes very disagreeable.  It abounds with the slang usually confined to sporting papers.  According to the author, a civil man is “as civil as an orange,” a well-dressed man is “got up regardless of expense,” and an unobserved action is done “on the sly.”  He affects the intense, and, in his pages, newspapers “go rabid and foam personalities,” are “ablaze with victories” and “bristling with bulletins,”—­the public is in a “delirium,”—­the politicians are “maddened,”—­letters are written in “hot haste,” and proclamations “sent flying.”  He appears to be on terms of intimacy with historical personages such as few writers are fortunate enough to be admitted to.  He approves a remark of George II. and patronizingly exclaims, “Sensible King!” He has occasion to mention John Adams, and salutes him thus:  “Glorious, delightful, honest John Adams!  An American John Bull!  The Comic Uncle of this exciting drama!” He then calls him “a high-mettled game-cock,” and says “he made a splendid show of fight.”