Grassmere Farm. By Frank. (Elliot, Liverpool.)—The author's style does not
lend much attraction to a story that has naturally little interest in it. Sundry people fall in love, and are ultimately married. Every- thing turns out well. Even the selfish old baronet, who is held up to our dislike, is carried away by the general tide of matrimony, and makes a match of the most unlikely and absurd kind. The tone of the book is religions, and it is evidently written with the best intentions. We can say little or nothing more in its praise.