MARGARET HOWTH.  A Story of To-Day.  Boston:  Ticknor & Fields. 1862.

We know of no other truly American novel into which so many elements have been forced by the strength of genius into harmony, as in Margaret Howth.  One may believe, in reading it, that the author, wearied of the old cry that the literature of our country is only a continuation of that of Europe, had resolved to prove, by vigorous effort, that it is possible to set forth, not merely the incidents of our industrial life in many grades, in its purely idiomatic force, but to make the world realize that in it vibrate and struggle outward those aspirations, germs of culture and reforms which we seldom reflect on as forming a part of the inner-being of our very practical fellow-citizens.  The work has two characteristics,—­it breaks, with a strong intellect and fine descriptive power, into a new field, right into the rough of real life, bringing out fresher and more varied forms than had been done before, and in doing this makes us understand, with strange ability, how the thinkers among our people think.  We all know how it flows in to them, from lecture and book, from the Tribune and school—­but few, especially in the Atlantic cities, know what becomes of culture among men and women who ‘work and weave in endless motion’ in the counting-house, or factory, or through daily drudgery and the reverses from wealth to poverty.  Others have treated a single **o [transcriber’s note:  illegible word] of life, dramatically and by events, as well as Miss HARDING, but no one American has dared such intricacies of thought and character in individuals—­has raised them to such a height, and developed them with such a powerful will, without falling into conventionalism or improbability.  Unlike most novels, its ‘plot,’ though excellent, is its least attraction—­we can imagine that the superb pride which gleams out in so many rifts has induced the author to voluntarily avoid display of that ingeniously spinning romantic talent in which novelists excel precisely in proportion to their lack of all nobler gifts.  It is a certain rule, as to literary snobs, that in proportion as the food which they give diminishes in excellence, does the plate on which it is served increase in value.  But let none imagine that Margaret Howth lacks interest—­it is replete with burning, vivid, thrilling interest—­it has the attraction which fascinates all readers, based in a depth of knowledge so extraordinary that it can be truly appreciated by but few.  The immense popularity which it has acquired and the general praise awarded it by the press, proves that it has gone right to the hearts of the people—­whence it came.