Arnold Robur. By Martin Combe and Duncan Lisle. 3 vols.
(Chapman and Hall.)—lt is quite possible that either of the two authors whose names appear on the title-page would have produced unassisted a better novel than that which their joint labours have resulted in. Each of them, one is led to think, has had a free hand to introduce what he pleased, and neither of them has exercised an effective criticism over the work of the other. This, at least, is the impression left by the book, though we need hardly say that we have no knowledge of their methods of working. We have found the tale very heavy on our hands; nor does it get lighter as one goes on. The reader who has penetrated into the third volume will find himself en- countered by a disquisition on immortality, which could not in any case be-relevant to a work of this kind, and has, besides, very little intrinsic value. Did neither of the two authors perceive that all this is very mach out of place? Did neither, again, see what an extraordinary thing it was for a young lady to say, after she had heard the hideous tale of crime which comes at the end of Volume I.,—" We owe you much gratitude for your pretty story"?
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