and from which we have derived a considerable deal of pleasure and entertainment.

urn of Ignorance! General Elliot | All is emotion when the book is open found the London tailors in a state-all dull, flat, and feeble when it is shut. of mutiny, and he raised from them Granby, a young man of no profes a regiment of light cavalry, which sion, living with an old uncle in the distinguished itself in a very striking country, falls in love with Miss Jermyn, manner at the battle of Minden. In and Miss Jermyn with him; but Sir humble imitation of this example, we Thomas and Lady Jermyn, as the shall avail ourselves of the present young gentleman is not rich, having political disaffection and unsatisfac-discovered, by long living in the world tory idleness of many men of rank and patient observation of its ways, and consequence, to request their at- that young people are commonly Mal tention to the Novel of Granby thus-proof and have children, and that written, as we have heard, by a young young and old must eat, very naturally gentleman of the name of Lister*, do what they can to discourage the union. The young people, however, both go to town-meet at balls flutter, blush, look and cannot speak — speak and cannot look,- suspect, mis interpret, are sad and mad, peevish and jealous, fond and foolish; but the passion, after all, seems less near to its accomplishment at the end of the season than the beginning. The uncle of Granby, however, dies, and leaves to his nephew a statement accompanied with the requisite proofs that Mr. Tyrrel, the supposed son of Lord Malton, is illegitimate, and that he, Gran by, is the heir to Lord Malton's fortune. The second volume is now far advan ced, and it is time for Lord Malton to die. Accordingly Mr. Lister very ju|diciously despatches him; Granby inherits the estate- - his virtues (for what shows off virtue like land?) are discovered by the Jermyns-and they marry in the last act.

The main question as to a novel is - did it amuse ? were you surprised at dinner coming so soon? did you mistake eleven for ten, and twelve for eleven? were you too late to dress? and did you sit up beyond the usual hour? If a novel produces these effects, it is good; if it does not story, language, love, scandal itself cannot save it. It is only meant to please; and it must do that, or it does nothing. Now Granby seems to us to answer this test extremely well; it produces unpunctuality, makes the reader too late for dinner, impatient of contradiction, and inattentive, even if a bishop is making an observation, or a gentleman, lately from the Pyramids, or the Upper Cataracts, is let loose upon the drawing-room. The objection, indeed, to these compositions, when they are well done, is, that it is impossible to do anything, or perform any human duty, while we are engaged in them. Who can read Mr. Hallam's Middle Ages, or extract the root of an impossible quantity, or draw up a bond, when he is in the middle of Mr. Trebeck and Lady Charlotte Duncan ? How can the boy's lesson be heard, about the Jove-nourished Achilles, or his six miserable verses upon Dido be Corrected, when Henry Granby and Mr. Courtenay are both making love to Miss Jermyn? Common life palls in the middle of these artificial scenes.

This is the gentleman who now keeps the keys of Life and Death, the Janitor of the World.

Upon this slender story, the author has succeeded in making a very agreeable and interesting novel; and he has succeeded, we think, chiefly by the very easy and natural picture of manners, as they really exist among the upper classes: by the description of new characters judiciously drawn and faithfully preserved; and by the introduction of many striking and wellmanaged incidents; and we are parti. cularly struck throughout the whole with the discretion and good sense of the author. He is never nimious; there is nothing in excess; there is a good deal of fancy and a great deal of spirit at work, but a directing and superintending judgment rarely quits him.

We would instance, as a proof of and tremendous table tyrants, by his tact and talent, the visit at Lord whom London society is so frequently Daventry's, and the description of governed :characters of which the party is composed. There are absolutely no events; nobody runs away, goes mad, or dies. There is little of love, or of hatred; no great passion comes into play; but nothing can be further removed from dulness and insipidity. Who has ever lived in the world without often meet-pered with ridicule of others, vainly thought ing the Miss Cliftons?

"Mr. Trebeck had great powers of entertainment, and a keen and lively turn for satire; and could talk down his superiors, whether in rank or talent, with very imposing confidence. He saw the advantages of being formidable, and observed with derision how those whose malignity he pam

to purchase by subserviency exemption for themselves. He had sounded the gullibility of the world; knew the precise current value of pretension; and soon found himself the acknowledged umpire, the last appeal, of many contented followers.

"He seldom committed himself by praise or recommendation, but rather left his example and adoption to work its way. As for censure, he had both ample and witty store; but here too he often husbanded his remarks, and where it was needless or dangerous to define a fault, could check admiration by an incredulous smile, and depress pretensions of a season's standing by the raising of an eyebrow. He had a quick

"The Miss Cliftons were good-humoured girls; not handsome, but of pleasing manners, and sufficiently clever to keep up the ball of conversation very agreeably for an occasional half hour. They were always au courant du jour, and knew and saw the first of everything-were in the earliest confidence of many a bride elect, and could frequently tell that a marriage was 'off' long after it had been announced as 'on the tapis' in the morning papers-always knew something of the new opera, or the new Scotch novel, before anybody else did-were the first who made fizgigs, or acted charades contrived to have private views of most ex-perception of the foibles of others, and a hibitions, and were supposed to have led the fashionable throng to the Caledonian Chapel, Cross Street, Hatton Garden. Their employments were like those of most other girls: they sang, played, drew, rode, read occasionally, spoiled much muslin, manufactured purses, handscreens, and reticules for a repository, and transcribed a consider-tors he loved much; but to baille themable quantity of music out of large fair print into diminutive manuscript.

"Miss Clifton was clever and accomplished; rather cold, but very conversible; collected seals, franks, and anecdotes of the day; and was a great retailer of the latter. Anne was odd and entertaining; was a formidable quizzer, and no mean caricaturist; liked fun in most shapes; and next to making people laugh, had rather they stared at what she said. Maria was the echo of the other two: vouched for all Miss Clifton's anecdotes, and led the laugh at Anne's repartees. They were plain, and they knew it; and cared less about it than young ladies usually do. Their plainness, however, would have been less striking, but for that hard, pale, parboiled town look,-that stamp of fashion, with which late hours and hot rooms generally endow the female face."(pp. 103-105.)

Having introduced our reader to the Miss Cliftons, we must make him acquainted with Mr. Trebeck, one of those universally appearing gentlemen

keen relish for bantering and exposing them. No keeper of a menagerie could better show off a monkey than he could an 'original.' He could ingeniously cause the unconscious subject to place his own absurdities in the best point of view, and would cloak his derision under the blandest cajolery. Imita

more. He loved to turn upon the luckless adopters of his last folly, and see them precipitately back out of the scrape into which he himself had led them.

"In the art of cutting he shone unrivalled; he knew the 'when,' the 'where,' and the 'how.' Without affecting useless shortsightedness, he could assume that calm but wandering gaze, which veers, as if unconsciously, round the proscribed individual; neither fixing, nor to be fixed; not looking on vacancy, nor on any one object; neither occupied nor abstracted; a look which perhaps excuses you to the person cut, and, at any rate, prevents him from accosting you. Originality was his idol. He wished to astonish, even if he did not amuse; and had rather say a silly thing than a commonplace one. He was led by this sometimes even to approach the verge of rudeness and vulgarity; but he had considerable tact, and a happy hardihood, which generally carried fearless love of originality brought him. him through the difficulties into which his Indeed, he well knew that what would, in the present condition of his reputation, be

scouted in anybody else, would pass current | knowledge of the duties of women may, with the world in him. Such was the far- with proper attention, be picked up in a famed and redoubtable Mr. Trebeck."(pp. 109-112.)

This sketch we think exceedingly clever. But we are not sure that its merit is fully sustained by the actual presentment of its subject. He makes his debut at dinner very characteristically, by gliding in quietly after it is half over; but in the dialogue which follows with Miss Jermyn, he seems to us a little too resolutely witty, and somewhat affectedly odd — though the whole scene is executed with spirit and

talent.

ball room.'-'Then I hope,' said she, laughing, 'you will attribute my deficiency to my little experience of balls. I have only been at two.'-'Only two! and one of them I suppose a race ball. Then you have not yet experienced any of the pleasures of a London season? Never had the dear delight of seeing and being seen, in a well of tall people at a rout, or passed a pleasant hour at have much to enjoy.'-'You do not mean a ball upon a staircase? I envy you. You that I really have?'-'Yes-really. But let me give you a caution or two. Never dance with any man without first knowing his character and condition, on the word of two credible chaperons. At balls, too, consider what you come for-to dance, of course, and not to converse; therefore, never talk yourself, nor encourage it in others.'-'I'm afraid I can only answer for myself.'-'Why, if foolish, well-meaning people will choose to be entertaining, I question if you have the power of frowning them down in a very forbidding manner; but I would give them no countenance nevertheless.'-'Your advice seems a little ironical.'-'Oh, you may either follow it or reverse it-that is its chief beauty. It is equally good taken either way.' After a slight pause he continuedI hope you do not sing, or play, or draw, or do anything that everybody else does.'-'I am obliged to confess that I do a littlevery little-in each.'-'I understand your

"The Duke had been discoursing on cookery, when Mr. Trebeck turned to her, and asked in a low tone if she had ever met the Duke before-'I assure you,' said he, 'that upon that subject he is well worth attending to. He is supposed to possess more true science than any amateur of his day. By the by, what is the dish before you? It looks well, and I see you are eating some of it. Let me recommend it to him upon your authority; I dare not upon my own.'-'Then pray do not use mine.'-'Yes I will, with your permission; I'll tell him you thought, by what dropped from him in conversation, that it would exactly suit the genius of his taste. Shall I? Yes.-Duke,' (raising his voice a little, and speaking across the table,) very little;" I'm afraid you are accom-'Oh, no; how can you? Why not?- plished.'-'You need have no fear of that, Duke,' (with a glance at Caroline,) will But why are you an enemy to all accom you allow me to take wine with you?'-'I plishments?'-'All accomplishments? Nay, thought,' said she, relieved from her trepi- surely, you do not think me an enemy to dation, and laughing slightly, 'you would all? What can you possibly take me for ?' never say anything so very strange.'-You-'I do not know,' said she, laughing slighthave too good an opinion of me; I blush for my unworthiness. But confess, that in fact you were rather alarmed at the idea of being held up to such a critic as the recommender of a bad dish.'-'Oh no, I was not thinking of that; but I hardly know the-sometimes. I am to-day. This is one of Duke; and it would have seemed so odd; and perhaps he might have thought that I had really told you to say something of that kind.'-'Of course he would; but you musting out Mr. Bennet,) 'a highly respectable not suppose that he would have been at all surprised at it. I'm afraid you are not aware of the full extent of your privileges, and are not conscious how many things young ladies can, and may, and will do.'Indeed I am not-perhaps you will instruct me.'-'Ah, I never do that for anybody. I like to see young ladies instruct themselves. It is better for them, and much more amusing to me. But, however, for once I will venture to tell you, that a very competent

ly.-'Yes, I see you do not know exactly what to make of me-and you are not without your apprehensions. I can perceive that, though you try to conceal them.-But never mind. I am a safe person to sit near

my lucid intervals. I'm much better, thanks to my keeper. There he is, on the other side of the table-the tall man in black,' (point

kind of person. I came with him here for change of air. How do you think I look at present ?'-Caroline could not answer him for laughing.-'Nay,' said he, 'it is cruel to laugh on such a subject. It is very hard that you should do that, and misrepresent my meaning too.'-'Well then,' said Caroline, resuming a respectable portion of gravity, 'that I may not be guilty of that again, what accomplishments do you allow to be tolerable?'-'Let me see,' said he, with a

not sing a note of Rossini; nor sketch gate

look of consideration; 'you may play a Johnson, and Simson, always excepted), waltz with one hand, and dance as little as are the best for novels. Lord Chesteryou think convenient. You may draw cariton we have often met with; and sufcatures of your intimate friends. You may fered a good deal from his Lordship : posts and donkeys after nature. You may a heavy, pompous, meddling peer, sit to a harp, but you need not play it. You occupying a great share of the conmust not paint miniatures nor copy Swiss versation-saying things in ten words costumes. But you may manufacture any-which required only two, and evidently thing from a cap down to a pair of shoes convinced that he is making a great -always remembering that the less useful impression; a large man, with a large your work the better. Can you remember head, and very landed manner; knowall this?'-'I do not know,' said she, it comprehends so much; and I am rather ing enough to torment his fellowpuzzled between the "mays" and "must creatures, not to instruct them—the nots." However, it seems, according to your ridicule of young ladies, and the code, that very little is to be required of natural butt and target of wit. It ne; for you have not mentioned anything is easy to talk of carnivorous animals that I positively must do.'-'Ah, well, I can and beasts of prey; but does such a reduce all to a very small compass. You man, who lays waste a whole party must be an archeress in the summer, and a of civilised beings by prosing, reflect skater in the winter, and play well at billiards all the year; and if you do these ex- upon the joys he spoils, and the misery tremely well, my admiration will have no he creates in the course of his life? bounds.'-'I believe I must forfeit all claim and that any one who listens to him to your admiration then, for unfortunately through politeness, would prefer toothI am not so gifted.'-"Then you must place ache or earache to his conversation? it to the account of your other gifts. Does he consider the extreme uneasi'Certainly-when it comes.'-'Oh! it is ness which ensues, when the company sure to come, as you well know: but, never have discovered a man to be an extheless, I like that incredulous look extremely. He then turned away, thinking tremely absurd person, at the same probably that he had paid her the compli- time that it is absolutely impossible to inent of sufficient attention, and began a convey, by words or manner, the most conversation with the Duchess, which was distant suspicion of the discovery? carried on in such a well-regulated under- And then, who punishes this bore? tone, as to be perfectly inaudible to any but What sessions and what assizes for themselves."-(pp. 92-99.) him?

What bill is found against The bustling importance of Sir him? Who indicts him? When the Thomas Jermyn, the fat Duke, and judges have gone their vernal and his right-hand man the blunt toad-autumnal rounds-the sheep-stealer eater, Mr. Charlecote, a loud noisy disappears the swindler gets ready sportsman, and Lady Jermyn's worldly for the Bay the solid parts of the prudence, are all displayed and man-murderer are preserved in anatomical aged with considerable skill and great collections. But, after twenty years power of amusing. One little sin of crime, the bore is discovered in the against good taste our author sometimes commits - an error from which Sir Walter Scott is not exempt. We mean the humour of giving characteristic names to persons and places; for instance, Sir Thomas Jermyn is Member of Parliament for the town of Rottenborough. This very easy and appellative jocularity seems to us, we confess. to savour a little of vulgarity; and is therefore quite as unworthy of Mr. Lister, as Dr. Dryasdust is of Sir Walter Scott The plainest names which can be found (Smith, Thomson,

same house, in the same attitude, eating the same soup. unpunished, untried, undissected - no scaffold, no skeleton -no mob of gentlemen and ladies to gape over his last dying speech and confession.

The scene of quizzing the country neighbours is well imagined, and not ill executed; though there are many more fortunate passages in the book. The elderly widows of the metropolis beg, through us, to return their thanks to Mr. Lister for the following agreeable portrait of Mrs. Dormer.

"It would be difficult to find a more pleas- "The poor woman seemed half dead with ing example than Mrs. Dormer, of that much fatigue already; and we cannot venture to libelled class of elderly ladies of the world, say whether the prospect of five hours who are presumed to be happy only at the more of this high-wrought enjoyment tendcard table; to grow in bitterness as they ed much to brace her to the task. It was a advance in years, and to haunt, like restless brilliant sight, and an interesting one, if it ghosts, those busy circles which they no could have been viewed from some fair vanlonger either enliven or adorn. Such there tage ground, with ample space, in coolness may be; but of these she was not one. She and in quiet. Rank, beauty, and splendour, was the frequenter of society, but not its were richly blended. The gay attire; the slave. She had great natural benevolence glittering jewels; the more resplendent of disposition; a friendly vivacity of man- features they adorned, and too frequently ners, which endeared her to the young, and the rouged cheek of the sexagenarian: the a steady good sense, which commanded the vigilant chaperon; the fair but languid respect of her contemporaries; and many, form which she conducted; well curled who did not agree with her on particular heads, well propped with starch; well points, were willing to allow that there was whiskered guardsmen! and here and there a good deal of reason in Mrs. Dormer's pre- fat good-humoured elderly gentlemen, with judices. She was, perhaps, a little blind to stars upon their coats;-all these united in the faults of her friends; a defect of which one close medley-a curious piece of living the world could not cure her; but she was mosaic. Most of them came to see and be very kind to their virtues. She was fond of seen; some of the most youthful professedly young people, and had an unimpaired gaiety to dance; yet how could they? at any rate about her, which seemed to expand in the they tried. They stood, if they could, with contact with them; and she was anxious to their vis-à-vis facing them, and sidled promote, for their sake, even those amuse-across-and back again and made one step, ments for which she had lost all taste her--or two if there was room, to the right or self. She was-but after all, she will be best described by negatives. She was not a match-maker, or mischief-maker; nor did she plume herself upon her charity, in implicitly believing only just half of what the world says. She was no retailer of scandalous'on dits.' She did not combat wrinkles with rouge; nor did she labour to render years less respected by a miserable affecta-figure in with greater freedom. tion of girlish fashions. She did not stickle for the inviolable exclusiveness of certain sects; nor was she afraid of being known to visit a friend in an unfashionable quarter of the town. She was no worshipper of mere rank. She did not patronise oddities; nor sanction those who delight in braving the rules of common decency. She did not evince her sense of propriety, by shaking hands with the recent defendant in a Crim. Con. cause; nor exhale her devotion in Sunday routs."—(pp. 213, 244.)

Mrs. Clotworthy, we are afraid, will not be quite so well pleased with the description of her rout. Mrs. Clotworthy is one of those ladies who have ices, fiddlers, and fine rooms, but no fine friends. But fine friends may always be had, where there are ices, fiddlers, and fine rooms and so, with ten or a dozen stars and an Oonalaska chief, and followed by all vicious and salient London, Mrs. Clotworthy takes the field.

left, and joined hands and set-perhaps, and turned their partners, or dispensed with it if necessary-and so on to the end of 'La Finale;' and then comes a waltz for the few who choose it-and then another squeezy quadrille-and so on-and on, till the weary many leave ample room and verge enough' for the persevering few to

"But then they talk; oh! ay! true we must not forget the charms of conversation. And what passes between nine-tenths of them! Remarks on the heat of the room; the state of the crowd; the impossibility of dancing, and the propriety nevertheless of attempting it; that on last Wednesday was a bad Almack's, and on Thursday a worse Opera; that the new ballet is supposed to be good; mutual inquiries how they like Pasta, or Catalani, or whoever the syren of the day may be; whether they have been at Lady A.'s, and whether they are going to

Mrs. B.'s; whether they think Miss Such-aone handsome; and what is the name of the gentleman talking to her; whether Rossini's music makes the best quadrilles, and whether Collinet's band are the best to play them. There are many who pay in better coin; but the small change is much of this description."-(Vol. I. pp. 249–251.)

We consider the following description of London, as it appears to a person walking home after a rout, at four or five o'clock in the morning, to be as poetical as anything written on