Robert Blake of Ringwood. 3 vols. (Newby.)—Anything more dreary than
this novel it would not be easy to find. It is a wearisome record of love-making, and husband-hunting, and such like phases of the relations between men and women in society. We have not found in it from beginning to end a trace of brilliancy, or humour, or pathos, and it is written in English of this kind :—" ' I think, my dear,' said he, that you ought to call upon Mrs. Forster. She is connected with us, and must feel it unkind to be so long here and not to go near her, living as she does on the premises.' " The whole story is founded on a mani- feat impossibility. The owner of Ringwood disenherita his son, end leaves away his property to another family for nine generations, directing that after these have past it should return to his own descendants. It is needless to say that no will of the kind would hold good. The limit of an entail is now—and the dates of the story are quite recent— very strictly drawn by the law. To tell the truth, this is the only thing in the book that has excited in us the least interest.
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