The Twickenham. Peerage. By Richard Marsh. (Methuen and Co. (is.)—This
is a really well-contrived and intricate story. Perhaps it would not `be correct to say that it is of the school of Gaboriau, because no detective figures in it, but it may with great justice be dubbed a story of mystery. There are faults in it of Coarse,—for instance, the author's opinion of the gentleman who performs a thirty day? sleep at the Aquarium softens as the book goes on, and in the end Mr. Marsh is inclined to think this "Mr. Merrett," to use the most authentic of his aliases, rather a fine fellow. Again, the coincidence of an absolute likeness between two men is rather a weak point d'appui far a whole novel; but this story is not intended to be possible or probable, and so long as the development is not incredible, the reader will cheerfully allow the author a little license in the setting of his scheme. A little more explanation of the chief character's versatility of talent in deceiving doctors on a feigned deathbed, &c., would also have been acceptable. Nothing gives an air of probability so well as a profusion of detail. The reader can swallow in little bits a mouthful which would entirely choke him if taken whole. As the interest of a book of this kind depends entirely on the plot, and as the plot must not be told, there is really very little for the reviewer to say about it, except that, unlike most stories of the kind, it is not flimsy, that much pains has been taken to elaborate the characters, and that altogether as a book for holiday reading it is much to be recommended.
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