MAJOR BEANIISH'S NOVEL,
THERE is no more difficult task than that of ascertaining whether we are fit for the composition of an original work of fiction. A man knows not whether he has succeeded or failed. Sir WALTER SCOTT even permitted his Waverley to lie for years in his desk, out of a diffidence lest his endeavours should be still-born; and we can conceive FIELD- ING doubting whether his Tom Junes, which to him in the composition was the source of joy and infinite satisfaction, would please the tastes or interest the feelings of the world. The greatest of failures in modern times in the line of fiction was undoubtedly that of Sismomm. Well acquainted with the early history of the Gauls—familiar, as a historian necessarily becomes, with all details of manners, costume, and locali- ies—he conceived he had only to put this into the form of a novel, and thus rival the historical romances of Sir WALTER SCOTT. He tried: the most vapid stall that ever assumed the shape of fiction came from his hands : so dull a novel never was written. All we have said must be considered as an apology for Major BEA:vista—a respectable and well-informed man, who has been led by the present mania for novel- writing and reading, into the commission of one of the most deplorable filings of the kind we have had the misfortune to encounter. It is pitiable—absolutely pitiable. To see humour attemptcd by one wit limit humour—to see a story and characters vamped up by one who has no sort of Fiwer of conception in this line—is to see what is seen ON cry day—a wretched and feeble undertaking: it, is, however, painful to see such an imbecile effort proceed from one who might otherwise be con- sidered strong: it is painful to conceive the disai;pointment, the internal chagrin, of one who doubtless has some self-love, contemplate the ill- sustained struggles of friends to keep him in :rood humour with a pro- duction upon whose fate the public must soon decide. For no excc Lions of a publisher—no advertisements, no pun, no partial reviews —can possibly sustain the Peace Campaigns c f a Cornet to the end of the season.
We make no attempt to analyze this history of Cornet Butler : others may do it in compliment to the shoaling of the writer : we should only weary ourselves and our readers. It is for the interest of the author that it should be forgotten as soon as possible. The public have no interest in the matter.
* Peace Campaigns of a Cornet. :3 voL. London, Ebers and Co.
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