Wistons. By Miles Amber. "The First Novel Library." (T. Fisher
Unwin. 6s.)—There is a French saying that people live sometimes d cite du bonheur. The author of Wistons certainly writes a c6tc:, du talent, and we feel assured by more than the appearance of the book in Mr. Fisher Unwin's new " First Novel Library " that it is a first novel. Whether the author is young or not, Wistons seems to show many of the faults of youth. It is, in the first place, "as sad as night, only for wantonness." In the second, although the author has a pretty touch of wit and sarcasm, as is shown by the delightful Italian Count and Countess, and the ruthless dissection of the character of the hero, he (or she) discourses of the immensities and profundities in a manner which contributes very little indeed to the elucida- tion of these enigmatical questions. So profound a subject as predestination, for instance, is casually touched on in an italicised paragraph at the end of the book. But though the story, like the old epitaph, accounts for the "whole generation" of the Woolvenhursts, yet it never manages to be a real story,—merely a collection of scenes. And this is a pity, for " Miles Amber " has a really excellent gift of portraiture. The characters of the book live before our eyes. Robin, who, however, undoubtedly owes one aide of him to " Tito " ; Betty, the old servant ; George and his gipsy wife Bella, and their children Rhoda and Esther,—the reader knows them all intimately, and dislikes them nearly all heartily. And who takes the trouble to dislike the flimsy characters in most of the novels of the day ? We hope some day to owe a debt of gratitude to "Miles Amber " for a book with a set of characters out of whom a really human story will develop, and in which he will cultivate, and not suppress, that pleasant gift of humour, which, indeed, except as farce, is unfashionable in the present day. Some people have a taste for extravaganza, others for sparkling epigram ; other superior persons are too much occupied with heavily asking themselves, " Is life worth living ?" to have time for anything else. But a little real humour applied to the common things of life is indeed a rarity. If " Miles Amber will only abandon Problems with a big " P," he gives promise of being able to write a really good novel to which imagination, character-drawing, and humour will all contribute a generous share. May that promise soon ripen to fulfilment.
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