THE NABOB AT HOME.

Tian novel has not disappointed the expectations raised by the writer's former work. The Nabob at Home exhibits great variety and truth in its characters and dialogues, and an easy strength without a particle of effort or exaggeration in its descriptions of life and nature, whilst its general incidents are so probable that they seem rather like occurrences, deriving their interest from the actual circumstances under which we meet them, than the inven- tions of a novel. As a quiet but skilful delineation of manners and character, with a narrative devoid of excitement but not of interest, The Nabob at Home offers the intelligent novel-reader a welcome relief from the feeble pastoral or inflated melodrama, which forms the staple material of so many fictions. Whether there is enough of what is called story to please the novel-reader, and whether some of the interest does not arise from the unexhausted field in which the author labours, may be questioned. The story of The Nabob at Home is of that slight yet involved character which renders it difficult to convey an account of it. The scenes are laid in India, St. Helena, and the Highlands, in- cluding a wreck on the homeward voyage, and deeds of atrocity by a Scotch laird, which, though natural and naturally told, seem to belong to an earlier period than the present day. The leading subject is the return of Dr. M'Alpin from India to Scotland, late in life, and successful beyond his hopes, to find his old friends and relations dead or scattered, and to be beset by a crowd of coarse, selfish, legacy-hunting nephews and nieces, with their still more selfish father: and though every incident or character is in keeping with Dr. M'Alpin's position, the results seem to have a general application to the Anglo-Indian, who, perhaps injudiciously, leaves the scenes of his active life and returns to die at his native place. This saddening effect is relieved in The Nabob at Home, partly by the high character of the Doctor, and the quiet comic effect of some of the scenes with his relations; partly by a nephew whose amiable and spirited disposition forms a contrast with his brothers and sisters, and whose love-affair with a sort of protegee of the Doctor unites him, as it turns out, to a daughter of his oldest friend. Notwithstanding the various good qualities to be found in The Nabob at Home, it may be doubted whether its popularity will be equal to its merits, from the writer's deficiency in the art of turning his materials to the best account. Compared with the tale of "The English in India," the structure of The Nabob at Home is deficient in compactness and keeping. The earlier Calcutta scenes in the first volume might be struck out without any injury to the story, although some lifelike and even useful sketches of Anglo-Indian society would be lost : the wreck is necessary to the introduction of the heroine, the visit to St. Helena to the meeting with the Doctor's nephew Malcolm Sinclair • and the incidents and persons at both these places are always truthful and sometimes striking, but measured by their bearing upon the plot, they are much too extended : a similar remark perhaps applies to the character of Miss Jametsina Sinclair, christened after her uncle "James," and quartered upon him as superintendent of the establishment at Fernbraes,—admirably as she is drawn, in her strength, her weak- ness' and her meanness : even the character, crimes, and death of her father, Stonelands, though painted with considerable power and truth, are not as it were essential to the tale : they con- tribute nothing to bring about the catastrophe ; for if they were entirely changed and greatly curtailed, the conclusion would re- main the same; whilst that part which is essential—the story of Kenneth Ross, with the loss and recovery of his daughter—seems somewhat improbable. It may be said, if the parts are good in themselves, and well dovetailed together, why should they fail of effect ? and if they have not that inseparable coherence and continuous action we seem to desiderate, neither have the events of actual life. To this we reply, that Nature in all her own productions, rende:s every part necessary • for although organs may exist in plants and animals whose function is at present unknown, no physiologist ever doubts that they are essential. It is probable that the mind of man is so constituted as to require this necessity in things which are to please greatly and long : and analogy favours the idea. This eye to the main end is visible in all great works, whose authors have rejected what was unnecessary to the purpose in band, even at the expense of an apparent abruptness or incompletion till their design be understood. To the eye of the soldier the splendour of uniforms and decorations goes for little : it is the " arma virumque" that

decides his judgment. The most gorgeous trappings on the statue of a horse, and the most elaborate care in their execution, avail nothing with the jockey if the steed is faulty. And we believe it will be found, that as our knowledge increases, so does our disregard of excrescent parts however excellent in themselves. "Passages that lead to nothing " are seldom traversed a second time.

To the other objection the answer is this. In the complicated relations and designed concealments of human society, common observers are unable to see the causes and consequences of actions; the results only are visible. It is the business of the poet or of the novelist, by a comprehensive survey of life, to deduce from it some general principles, so that he presents a whole to his reader, in which every part has a dependence on the rest. This may be very diffi- cult to do: but it is not very easy to be a first-rate writer of fic-

tion; and it is in this, we conceive, that the author of The Nabob at Home is chiefly deficient. In nice conception and delineation of character, in the ease of his dialogue, and in a quiet, sustained, and varying power of style, this author may be pronounced equal to any writer of the day, and superior to many. But he fails in the structure of his fable, and (perhaps consequently) in the art of making his other qualities tell with the greatest effect.

Our extracts, as must so often be the case in novels, will be taken rather as examples of the writer than of the book. Here are some useful hints, in the form of a dialogue over the sudden death of a cadet who had come to India, exposed himself rashly to the sun, and died from his own imprudence and the ignorance of his brother cadets around him.

YOUTH IN INDIA.

"It is much to be regretted," said Mr. Curzon' " that parents at home generally know little of how their sons are situated when they come to this country. Here is another instance among the many I have met with, of these poor boys falling a sacrifice to their own inexperience ; and the climate gets the whole credit, when only half is due. Yet what can be done to prevent ? A man's fate must be always in a measure in his own hands: the anxiety of parents, or the providence of the Legislature, cannot make provision against the thoughtlessness and presumption of their years. It is almost impossible to keep a great schoolboy, wearied with having nothing to do, and often unpro- vided with any rational pursuit, within doors for a whole long day." "Ay, ay," answered the Doctor; "people at home often think that ifs youth is idle and expensive, and will not settle to any business, he will do well enough for India. And if the truth were known, man or woman need to have industry that no languor will relax, and courage that no climate will subdue, to do any gaod here. Oh, if they would but consider what a young man is to do With himself irons five in the morning, his parade-time, until six in the even- ing, when he may go out with safety, or bow be is to pass over so many dull hot hours in quarters by himself, without getting into one folly or another, they would take more pains than they sometimes do to fit them for the scene they are to act in and, instead of sending those that have little education, they would at least strive to give every one some fixed pursuit. Health is

compounded of many things; and among them the employment of the mind, Curzon, is not the least important."

" These ideas are too philosophic to be generally acted upon in our ex- pensive country : friends are glad to find a situation fit for a younger sou, without too scrupulously considering whether be be fit for it. Every man sent to this country is provided for ; the service is sure ; he rises if he lives, and if he does not he does not require it. It may be that many letters are presented which are but of little use to the hearers; but when that is the case, it may be traced, with few exceptions, I fancy, to the way in which they are procured and the manners of the youth who delivers them. Friends and parents at home ask letters from those with ahem they have little acquaintance, and send raw, uneducated schoolboys to present them, who in many cases cannot be pleasant guests in any house; so that, perhaps, the formal invitation to dine, which young Ouseley mentioned, or the general invitation to come at any time, which is only understood by those acquainted with the manners of the country, is all the fruit of it. The climate, the occupations of the day, languor of mind the concomitant of both, and the driving-hour, being generally all that men in pub- lic life have for the enjoyment of family-intercourse, prevent them taking the trouble of going to see how these poor boys get on in the Fort; and their situa- tion is often deplorable when they are left to themselves." " Yes," said the Doctor; "and, like this poor boy, they often make quick work of it. You will find fifty, ay a hundred deaths among the cadets for one among the young ladies : and the reason is, that the last are under the advice and direction of others, while the first are left to their own. They run about in the beat of the day all over the place, drink madeim and water, try their dogs and horses in the sun, and a thousand follies of the same kind. A man need have a constitution of iron to go through with it. There is many a dear bargain in this world, Curzon, but experience is the dearest of all. We most of us act first, and think how we ought to have done afterwards ; and seldom, very seldom, any experience can serve us but that which we have purchased for ourselves. Vie may give our heirs all that we possess in the world, but we can never give them our experience."

SOURCE OF BRITISH FEELINGS IN BRITISH SETTLEMENTS.

"If I thought I could save those young creatures," said the Doctor, "though I doubt with some of them it is too late, I would even bear the folly and vul- garity of that intolerable woman, and come back another day to see if Ascot has really kept his promise. What preserves our superiority of character and feeling in India, but that we are all brought up Britons? It is our proud boast, that wherever our children are born we send them home to be educated ; we give them the sentiments, and the pride, and the independence of our natural character. Whereas, in all the Dutch, French, Portuguese, and other foreign settlements, they keep their children with them, and in two genera- tions they are natives in their minds if not in colour. We make healthy, vigorous settlements in India, carrying along with us the refinement, know- ledge, and improvements of our mother-country : they establish colonies, and

dwindle into natives." • • •

" We keep up our intercourse with home by as regular an interchange of persons and things as is carried on by the coaches to and from the metropolis of Britain to the outskirts of the kingdom. There's not a book printed in our country that we have not here five months after it comes from the prem. Whereas, among foreigners, they know no more of what is doing in France or Holland than the inhabitants of the South Seas; unless it may be when a new functionary arrives among them once in ten years, to open their months in gaping wonder at the great things that have come to pass since they were last there."

As an example of a less didactic kind, we take an incident from the wreck ; observing that its hero, though a somewhat stern per- son, is a man of honour and humanity, and was prompted only by DDT!.

The Doctor got into the long-boat, and received his half-dead domestic from the hands of the stoat seamen, who lowered him down, benumbed by cold and wet.

The boat pushed off. "We are too heavy," said the officer, "too deep is the water," as drawn by the currents they passed close under the bow of the ship.

A native Portuguese, in an agony of fear, caught a rope, and threw himself with it from the bowsprit, in hopes of attaining the boat. The rowers made every effort to shoot ahead ; but he swam stoutly, and had just attained his ob- ject, and laid his right hand on the side of the boat, which his weight brought to a level with the water. "We are gone!" shouted the helmsman, with a fearful oath. The officer In command of the boat snatched an oar, and with a tremendous blow broke the clinging arms of the swimmer; who fell off, with a look on the face of the officer which curdled the blood of those who beheld it. The women covered their eyes; the boat righted ; and the sufferer, with one strong con- vulsive gasp, sunk like a stone, and was seen no more. For an instant the whirling waters eddied round in the spot where be disappeared, and then a bubble broke, as the breath of life, over which they closed, rose to the surface.

"An unblessed deed 1" said the Doctor: "I would not have the expression of those eyes turned upon me fur all the sun looks down upon."

"I have done my duty," said Manning, resting upon the oar he had just used. "The lives of all here were intrusted to my care, and if it had been my own brother I must have done the same; another instant would have sent every soul to the bottom." "Ay, ay, Sir," answered the weather-beaten helmsman; "a seaman's duty is sometimes harder than a landsman dreams of." "As God knows this night can testify," said the Doctor; whose strongly- agitated countenance showed the agony which was within.

Mrs. Cheapstow continued to rest her head on her hand, while her fingers covered her eyes. Manning in the stern conscious that he had done his duty, attended only to the movements of the lima under his care.