18 DECEMBER 1841, Page 16

ADVENTURES OF CHARLES O'MALLEY.

LIKE all piecemeal productions, these adventures are tiresome to read as a whole, and leave a much less favourable impression of their merits than in their periodical form : the monotony of the style, and even of the incidents, and the forced efforts to be face- tious or intense in recounting droll or pathetic occurrences, be- come too apparent by constant repetition—the artificial air of the narrative interferes with the seeming truth of most of the occur- rences. The secret of O'Malley's popularity consists in the per- sonal interest that runs through the narrative, ami its push-along- keep-moving character : the autobiographical form favours the no- tion that the author is himself the hero of his own story ; and the reader is hurried on with him through the several scenes in the dashing, headlong career of the Irish Dragoon, with the impulse of a momentary excitement. The animal spirits of the narrator render one heedless of traits of character and points of taste, ex- emplified in the practical jokes and reckless conduct of the scape- grace and his companions, that are only excusable with a very libe- ral allowance for the necessities of a hero who sets out at tip-top speed in chase of distinction for either mischievous or honourable daring. O'Malley is a young Irish squire, of good family but small means; who, reared in the stable, begins the world by risking his own neck in a fox-chase, in order to endanger that of a rival, and in fighting a duel with a political opponent of his family : soon ex- changing the tedium and restraint of a college life for the stirring excitement of a soldier's career, the young dare-devil distinguishes himself by his reckless bravery on several occasions in the Penin- sular war and the brief campaign that terminated in Waterloo; the hopes, doubts, and fears of the lover, relieving the more active business of the soldier. In his pictures of life there is physical gusto and striking effect, but he rarely depicts the qualities of any thing below the surface : those particulars most obvious to the superficial observer are sketched off with spirit and truth, and thus an impression of reality is conveyed ; the scenes pass before the eye with glancing fleetness ; but they leave traces only on the senses —the mind has nothing to grasp. Hence, these volumes are calcu- lated rather to divert than to encourage thought ; and there are but few passages which repay a second perusal. Among the ac- counts of battles and skirmishes are some such ; and here is one of a different character, that might suggest a picture for MACLISE to paint.

AN IRISH ELECTION-PARTY.

The important morning at length arrived; and, as I looked from my bed-

room window at daybreak, the crowd of carriages of all sorts and shapes de- corated with banners and placards—the incessant bustle—the hurrying hither and thither—the cheering as each new detachment of voters came up, mounted On jaunting-cars or on horses, whose whole caparison consisted in a straw rope for a bridle, and a saddle of the same frail material—all informed me that the election-day was come. I lost no further time, but proceeded to dress with all possible despatch. When I appeared in the breakfast-room, it was already filled with some seventy or eighty persons of all ranks and ages, mingled con- fusedly together, and enjoying the hospitable fare of my uncle's house, while they discussed all the details and prospects of the election. In the hall, the library, the large drawing-room too, similar parties were also assembled; and, as new comers arrived, the servants were busy in preparing tables before the door and up the large terrace that ran the entire length of the building. No- thing could be more amusing than the incongruous mixture of the guests; who, with every variety of eatable that chance or inclination provided, were thus thrown into close contact, having only this in common, the success of the cause they were engaged in. Here was the old Galway Squire, with an ancestry that reached to Noah, sitting side by side with the poor cottier, whose whole earthly possession was what, in Irish phrase, is called a " potato-garden,"— meaning the exactly smallest possible patch of ground out of which a very in- dian-rubber conscience could presume to vote. Here sat the old simple-minded farmer-like man, in close conversation with a little white-foreheaded, keen-eyed personage, in a black coat and eye-glass—a flash attorney from Dublin, learned in flaws of the registry, and deep in the subtleties of election-law. There was an Athlone -horse-dealer, whose habitual daily practices in impos- ing the halt, the lame, and the blind, upon the unsuspecting for beasts of blood and mettle, well qualified him for the trickery of a county contest. Then there !ere scores of squircen gentry, easily recognized on common occa- sions by a green coat, brass buttons, dirty cords, and dirtier top-boots, a lash- whip, and a half-bred fox-bound; but now, fresh washed for the day, they presented something of the appearance of a swell mob, adjusted to the meridian of Galway: a mass of frize-coated, brown-faced, bullet-beaded peasantry fill- ing up the large spaces, dotted here and there with a sleek, roguish-eyed priest, or some low electioneering-agent, detailing for the amusement of the country some of those cunning practices of former times, which, if known to the proper authorities, would in all likelihood cause the talented narrator to be improving the; soil of Sydney or fishing on the banks of the Swan River; while at the bead and foot of each table, sat some personal friend of my uncle, whose ready tongivoind still readier pistol, made him a personage of some consequence, not more to is own people than to the enemy. While of such materiel were the compsny, the fare before them was no less varied : here some rubicund squire was deep in amalgamating the contents of a venison-pasty with some of Sueyd's oldest claret ; his neighbour, less ambitious and less erudite in such matters, was devouring rashers of bacon, with liberal potations of potteen ; some pale- checked scion of the law, with all the dust of the Four Courts in his throat, was sipping his humble beverage of black tea, beside four sturdy cattle-dealers from Ballinasloe, who were discussing hot whisky-punch and spaleaion (boiled beef) at the very primitive hour of eight in the morning. Amid the clank of de- canters, the crash of knives and plates, the jingling of glasses. the laughter and voices of the guests were audibly increasing; and the various modes of "running a buck," (Anulice, substituting a vote,) or hunting a badger, were talked over on all sides, while the price of a veal (a calf) or a voter was disputed with all the energy of debate."