We must confine ourselves, therefore, to general remarks on its structure and characteristics.
_Pontmartin_, the distinguished French _feuilletonist_, says, in one of his "Literary Chats," that these simple stories are "pearls set in Flemish gold,--a gold which alchemysts seek for in alembics and furnaces, but which Conscience has found in the inexhaustible veins of nature." "The Poor Gentleman," he remarks, "is a tale of not more than a hundred and fifty pages; but I would not give its shortest chapter for all the _romances_ I ever read.

The perplexed De Vlierbeck--who ought to have had Caleb Balderstone for a servant--is one of those characters that engrave themselves indelibly on our memory." In every trait and detail the author has attained a photographic minuteness; which, while it is distinct and sharp, never interferes with that motion, breadth, and picturesque effect that impart life and reality to a story.

Nor can we doubt that it will be read and re-read as long as there is a particle of that feeling among us which installed the Vicar of Wakefield, Paul and Virginia, the Crock of Gold, the Sketch-book, and the Tales of a Traveller, among the heirlooms of every tasteful household.

The "Tales of Flemish Life" are additions to that rare stock of home-literature which is at once amiable and gentle, simple and affectionate, familiar and tender, and which meets a quick response from every honest heart and earnest spirit.
If it be objected that the stories are too short and sketchy for the praise that has been bestowed on them, it may be answered that in their translation we have had the best opportunity to observe the skill, power, and perception of character which constitute their real merit.
Simple as they seem, they are written with masterly art.

In design, elaborateness, tone, and finish, they resemble the works of the Flemish School which have made us familiar with the Low Countries and their people through the pictures of Ruysdael, Teniers, and Ostade.