NOVELS OF THE WEEK.*

THE Count of Wellburg, the Russian nobleman entrusted with the part of jeune premier in " Le Volenr's" novel, In the Tsar's Dominions, had the good fortune during a private in- terview with the Czar to detect amid that potentate's papers, and to slay, the most remarkable snake that was ever en-

countered in the realms of fiction, to say nothing of Georgia, the great home and manufacturing centre of the snake•story.

This snake had a dynamite cartridge attached to its tail, and was thus in utrumgite paratas. To quote the Count's

explanation :-

"' It was hoped that in handling the papers, you would disturb it, when it would make a dart at you with its poisonous fangs ; should it strike you, the effect would probably be fatal. But in any case, whether or not it bit you, you would be sure to aim blows at it, until you had destroyed it ; and there was every chance that one of them would have fallen on the detonator at the end of the false tail, when the dynamite cartridge would have exploded. But even if you had missed, most likely you would have flung down the dead reptile with such violence that the concussion would have effected the explosion. I thank God that the discovery was made in time.'—' Amen,' replied the Tsar, 'and I thank you, my friend. It was your astuteness that discerned the diabolical contrivance."'

This, as dramatic critics say, constitutes the acre of the entertainment. The grateful Czar readily consents to Count Wellburg's unconventional marriage with the beautiful Anna, daughter of his land steward. Anna is then abducted by a rival suitor of low degree, the Jew Kapinaky, who, after murdering his own father, has contrived to fasten suspicion on Anna's. But the hero of the dynamite-tailed snake episode is equal to the emergency, rescues Anna in the nick of time, and, fracturing the skull of her kidnapper, reduces him to a state of delirium in which he confesses his guilt. The author makes effective use of the terrible disaster on the Khodinelry plain, and his story is vigorously told. He is, however, quite too fond of interlarding his dialogue with Russian words, with the translation in brackets, and betrays a regrettable Anti-Semitic bias.

" Ralph Connor's" romance is enacted in the great North.

West of Canada, and we have the testimony of Professor George Adam Smith, who contributes a sympathetic intro- duction to Black Rock, that the author has not only seen with his own eyes the life which he describes in this book, but

" has himself, for some years of hard and lonely toil, assisted in the good influences which he traces among its wild and often hopeless conditions." Still, we cannot help thinking that stories of missionary effort are most effective when they are of the nature of a plain record of fact. The part played by the miner's widow, Mrs. Mayor, verges on the melo- dramatic; and there is a vein of effusive sentiment in the narrator's attitude towards his friends,—e.g., when one of them was wounded by a drunken miner, after he had revived, "his old sweet smile was playing about his lips, and was almost too much for me." It is quite too much for the present reviewer. These emotional exuberances are to be regretted, for the sincerity of the writer, his knowledge of the country, and his talent for picturesque description combine to lend interest, and even charm, to these episodes of mission life in the North-West. The account of the four- horse race—half of it on ice—at the miners' Christmas sports, is treated in truly heroic fashion, and there is no lack of desperate hand-to•hand fighting with fists, knives, and other weapons during the progress of the great anti-whisky crusade organised by Mr. Craig. the Presbyterian minister,

• (1.) In the Tsar's Dominions. By Le Voleur. Loudon : Hutchinson and Co. 081—(2.) Black Rock a Tals of the Selkirks. By Bala Connor. London, Hodder and Stoughton. 16s.)—(3 ) The Queens Justice. By Sir Edwin Arnold. London : Thomas Burieigh. (3, 6d.)—(4.) Rondo. By Cyril Norman. London: Gar and Bird. (no.1—t5.) Th. Dukes Sarraets. By S. H. Burohell. Loudon: Gay and Bird. (6a.)—(6.) Miscineeption. By Mrs. Faure Walker. Lon.•on: Chapman awl Hell. (6e.) — (7.) Rabbi Saundsrasn. By Ian ignehren. With 12 I!1mt-atSons he A. 5. Boyd. London: Hodder and Stoughton. (•2e. 6d )—(8.) The Archdeacon. By L. B. Walford. London: C. A. Pearson. 166.)—(9.) Uncle Jack from America. By p, G. Scans and Edith C. Kenyon. London t Simpkin, Zdar4halt. and 0o. (as.)—(10.) Lore is not IJ Light. By Constance CotterelL Loudon : T. F.stmc Uuwin. [64.) who is the good genius and hero of the story. The inevitable, and apparently insuperable, difficulties that beset his path, his unfailing resource and courage in facing them, and his capacity for infecting lukewarm supporters with enthusiasm, are set forth with considerable skill. Black Rock, in short, must be described as a sort of mixture of Bret Harts and "Ian Maelaren."

By way of illustrating the dangers of the chose jugie in genera], and the difficulties of criminal administration in India in particular, Sir Edwin Arnold has retold in The Queen's Justice the true story of a very curious murder trial which took place some sixteen years ago in Bengal. Malek Chand, a village watchman, was accused of having mur- dered his own child, a girl of eleven, the sole motive alleged by the prosecution being the desire to attach suspicion to a neighbour who had taken legal proceed. ings against him. The only direct evidence against the man was that of another daughter, a child of eight, who described how her father had killed her sister with a spear. The wife, who was absent at the time of the child's death, was a hostile witness, and Malek Chand was convicted and sentenced to death. Owing, however, to the indefatigable exertions of Mr. Manomahan Ghose, the well-known Calcutta lawyer, who brought the matter before the High Court of Calcutta., the case was sent for retrial, and this time the prisoner was acquitted. The circumstances of the case are so squalid that in spite of all the wealth of local colour lavished on it by Sir Edwin Arnold, he is unable to elevate Malek Chand to the level of a hero. The really interesting feature of the case is the fact that Mr. Ghose propounded before the High Court an alternative theory of the cause of death which, after the conclusion of the second trial, was confirmed by the accused himself. He had killed his child by accident ; throwing—during the night—a Khatia (the pole of a husking machine) at what be thought was a stray bull, but in reality was his own child. Then, at the instigation of a neighbour, whom he consulted in his distress, he allowed his friend to fabricate a wound on the child's body after death, so as to convey the impression that she bad died of a snake. bite. The man's timidity and untruthfulness, backed by the hostility of a jealous wife and the officious and unscrupulous zeal of the local police, was thus within an ace of bringing him to the gallows. One would like to know what his chance would have been under native administration. The hero of the episode is undoubtedly Mr. Ghose, but Sir Edwin Arnold is somewhat fulsome in his use of his laudatory synonyms, —e.g., "The bold, sagacious Baboo Ghose," "this ingenious gentleman," "the undaunted advocate," "the fearless Ghose," "the enlightened Baboo," "the indomitable Baboo," Sa3.

At a time when London is so frequently visited by American theatrical companies, a novel which purports to throw a searchlight on the inner life of the New York stage is not without topical interest. We trust, however, that the account given us by Mr. Cyril Norman is not a true bill, for a more lurid portrait of the modern harpy could nut easily be imagined than that of Esther Kimberly, the anti-heroine of Rondo. The American actress, as here depicted, is a creature of no heart, but endowed with a voracious appetite and an unlimited thirst for champagne. Mr. Norman prefaces one of his chapters with a poem, the first verse of which is worth quoting :—

" Late I sat one evening

In you grove beside the spring, Inertiately pondering

O'er a project—or a thing."

—Mr. Burchell returns in The Duke's Servants to the period which he has already so agreeably delineated in his volume entitled In the Days of Sing .Tames. The hero of his romance is a young Lincolnshire squire, and the fair lady who encourages his suit succumbs to the fascinations of the

Duke of Buckingham. It is Mr. Burchell's way to discover new motives for historical events. The frail Katharine finally marries none other than John Felton, and thus Felton's assassination of the Duke assumes the character of an act of vengeance on the wrecker of his domestic happiness. Mr. Barohell is well up in the social and literary history of

the period, and has a pleasant wit of his own. The old lawyer who, amongst other eccentricities, talks to his flowers as if they were living beings, is a most engaging personage. ifisconeeption has at least the merit of being true to its title; But it is little short of incredible that a woman with grown-up children, whose heart was "infinitely tender," would believe the worst of a hitherto devoted and blameless husband. But then, as the vulgar proverb has it, there is no fool like an old fool.—Rabbi Sawnderson, in which " Ian Maclaren " has given us the portrait of the Free Kirk Minister of Kilbogie, a dreamy scholar of " unfathomable learning and saintly simplicity," is a great improvement on his recent collection of short stories, though, like most of them, it ends in the inevitable death-bed scene, with the broken "last words" freely interspersed with dote. The opening chapters, however, are charming, and Mr. Boyd's illustrations enhance the external attractiveness of this dainty little volume.—The Archdeacon is a novel with a gap of twenty years in the middle—like the play of Sweethearts—after which the hero, a dreamy idealist at the outset, reappears as a sleek, prosperous, and exceedingly worldly Archdeacon. His early love, now a widow, rejects his addresses and reproaches him with abandoning his early aims and aspirations; the Arch- deacon's eyes are opened ; and after he has undergone a brief period of probation, Mrs. Velasquez, née Irene Ravelston, reconsiders her verdict. The book is full of cheerful prattle, but Mrs. Walford is more at home in describing the humours of a luncheon party than in tracing the spiritual growth of her hero. The dialogue is wonderfully undistinguished, and contains one excruciating touch of " actuality " on p. 137: " You are irritable to-day, my dear boy. Take a dose of 'Eno' and you won't mind," &c.—The good genius in Uncle Jack from America is our old friend the rich uncle who quarters himself on his heirs in the character of a poor relation. There is, of course, a scapegrace nephew, who treats "Uncle Jack" with scant respect, but is duly humiliated in the long-run, and this ingenuous story ends to the tune of a double peal of wedding-bells.—Miss Cottereli's novel is clever, but cryptic. The hero of Love is not so Light is a giant Quaker, the villain has a fine Satanic manner, and there is another young man whose hair " was the •colour of old pale brandy." Eccentricities of nomenclature abound — e.g , Bumblekites is the name of a country place—and the mottoes of each chapter are put at the end. Perhaps this may be a hint that the story should be read backwards. As it stands it is a miracle of mystification.