Poisoned Arrows. By Jean Middlemass. 3 vols. (F. V. White
and Co.)—The title of this novel does not promise well for the reader's enjoyment ; and, indeed, he will not find much to please him. And if a novel of this kind does not please, what does it profit ? Miss Middlemass writes better than some of her contemporaries. Her dialogue is at least possible ; her characters are like the men and women of ordinary life. But she is not up to the mark of tragedy. The novel of the fashionable world, the novel of country-houses and the London season, should not aim at such effects. Why conld she not be content with interposing the usual obstacles between her true lovers—no one is very exigeant about their probability or novelty— and let all things end with the customary felicity ? She must learn to be a greater artist than she is, if she is to make sombre colours attractive. As this is mainly a "society" novel, may we ask whether it is good manners to smoke after dinner in a lady's conservatory, it being understood that there is no gentleman in the house—for it is a dowager who is entertaining—who coald have given the invitation ?
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