country, wisdom, genius, courage, and patience, invigorated and embellished by all those social and domestic virtues, without which the loftiest talents stand isolated in the moral waste around them, like the pillars of Palmyra towering in a wilderness! when I reflected on all this, it not only disheartened me for the mission of discord which I had undertaken, but made me secretly hope that it might be rendered unnecessary; and that a country, which could produce such men and achieve such a revolution, might yet-in spite of the joint efforts of the Government and my family — take her rank in the scale of nations, and be happy!

you.

My father, however, who saw the momentary dazzle by which I was affected, soon drew me out of this false light of hope in which I lay basking, and set the truth before me in a way but too convincing and ominous. "Be not deceived, boy," he would say, "by the fallacious appearances before Eminently great and good as is the man to whom Ireland owes this short era of glory, our work, believe me, will last longer than his. We have a Power on our side that 'will not willingly let us die;' and, long after Grattan shall have disappeared from earth, like that arrow shot into the clouds by Alcestes-effecting nothing, but leaving a long train of light behind him, the Family of the Rocks will continue to flourish in all their native glory, upheld by the everwatchful care of the Legislature, and fostered by that 'nursingmother of Liberty,' the Church."'

GRANBY. (E. REVIEW, 1826.)

Granby. A Novel in Three Volumes. London. Colburn, 1826.

THERE is nothing more amusing in the spectacles of the present day, than to see the Sir John's and Sir Thomas's of the House of Commons struck aghast by the useful science and wise novelties of Mr. Huskisson and the Chancellor of the Exchequer. Treason, Disaffection, Atheism, Republicanism, and Socinianism - the great guns in the Noodle's park of artillery - they cannot bring to bear upon these gentlemen. Even to charge with a regiment of ancestors is not quite so efficacious as it used to be; and all that remains, therefore, is to rail against Peter M'Culloch and Political Economy! In the mean time, day after day, down goes one piece of nonsense or another. The most approved trash, and the most trusty clamours, are found to be utterly powerless. Twopenny taunts and trumpery truisms have lost their destructive omnipotence; and the exhausted common-placeman, and the afflicted fool, moan over the ashes of Imbecility, and strew flowers on the urn of Ignorance! General Elliot found the London tailors in a state of mutiny, and he raised from them a regiment of light cavalry, which distinguished itself in a very striking manner at the battle of Minden. In humble imitation of this example, we shall avail ourselves of the present political disaffection and unsatisfactory idleness of many men of rank and consequence, to request their attention to the Novel of Granby - written, as we have heard, by a young gen

tleman of the name of Lister*, and from which we have derived a considerable degree of pleasure and entertainment.

The main question as to a novel is- did it amuse? were you surprised at dinner coming so soon? did you mistake eleven for ten, and twelve for eleven? were you too late to dress? and did you sit up beyond the usual hour? If a novel produces these effects, it is good; if it does not-story, language, love, scandal itself, cannot save it. It is only meant to please; and it must do that, or it does nothing. Now, Granby seems to us to answer this test extremely well; it produces unpunctuality, makes the reader too late for dinner, impatient of contradiction, and inattentive, —even if a bishop is making an observation, or a gentleman, lately from the Pyramids, or the Upper Cataracts, is let loose upon the drawingroom. The objection, indeed, to these compositions, when they are well done, is, that it is impossible to do any thing, or perform any human duty, while we are engaged in them. Who can read Mr. Hallam's Middle Ages, or extract the root of an impossible quantity, or draw up a bond, when he is in the middle of Mr. Trebeck and Lady Charlotte Duncan? How can the boy's lesson be heard, about the Jovenourished Achilles, or his six miserable verses upon Dido be corrected, when Henry Granby and Mr. Courtenay are both making love to Miss Jermyn? Common life palls in the middle of these artificial All is emotion when the book is open

scenes.

dull, flat, and feeble when it is shut.

all

Granby, a young man of no profession, living with

*This is the gentleman who now keeps the keys of Life and Death, the Janitor of the world.

an old uncle in the country, falls in love with Miss Jermyn, and Miss Jermyn with him; but Sir Thomas and Lady Jermyn, as the young gentleman is not rich, having discovered, by long living in the world and patient observation of its ways, that young people are commonly Malthus-proof and have children, and that young and old must eat, very naturally do what they can to discourage the union. The young people, however, both go to town-meet at balls-flutter, blush, look and cannot speak-speak and cannot look, — suspect, misinterpret, are sad and mad, peevish and jealous, fond and foolish; but the passion, after all, seems less near to its accomplishment at the end of the season than the beginning. The uncle of Granby, however, dies, and leaves to his nephew a statement accompanied with the requisite proofsthat Mr. Tyrrel, the supposed son of Lord Malton, is illegitimate, and that he, Granby, is the heir to Lord Malton's fortune. The second volume is now far advanced, and it is time for Lord Malton to die. Accordingly Mr. Lister very judiciously despatches him; Granby inherits the estate-his virtues (for what shows off virtue like land?) are discovered by the Jermyns-and they marry in the last act.

Upon this slender story, the author has succeeded in making a very agreeable and interesting novel; and he has succeeded, we think, chiefly, by the very easy and natural picture of manners, as they really

exist among the upper classes; by the description of

new characters judiciously drawn and faithfully preserved; and by the introduction of many striking and well-managed incidents; and we are particularly struck throughout the whole with the discretion and good sense of the author. He is never nimious; there is nothing in excess; there is a good deal of

fancy and a great deal of spirit at work, but a directing and superintending judgment rarely quits him.

We would instance, as a proof of his tact and talent, the visit at Lord Daventry's, and the description of characters of which the party is composed. There are absolutely no events; nobody runs away, goes mad, or dies. There is little of love, or of hatred; no great passion comes into play; but nothing can be farther removed from dulness and insipidity. Who has ever lived in the world without often meeting the Miss Cliftons?

The Miss Cliftons were good-humoured girls; not handsome, but of pleasing manners, and sufficiently clever to keep up the ball of conversation very agreeably for an occasional half hour. They were always au courant du jour, and knew and saw the first of every thing were in the earliest confidence of many a bride elect, and could frequently tell that a marriage was "off" long after it had been announced as 66 on the tapis " in the morning papers - always knew something of the new opera, or the new Scotch novel, before any body else did were the first who made fizgigs, or acted charades― contrived to have private views of most exhibitions, and were supposed to have led the fashionable throng to the Caledonian Chapel, Cross-Street, Hatton Garden. Their employments were like those of most other girls: they sang, played, drew, rode, read occasionally, spoiled much muslin, manufactured purses, handscreens, and reticules for a repository, and transcribed a considerable quantity of music out of large fair print into diminutive manuscript.

'Miss Clifton was clever and accomplished; rather cold, but very conversable; collected seals, franks, and anecdotes of the day; and was a great retailer of the latter. Anne was odd and entertaining; was a formidable quizzer, and no mean caricaturist; liked fun in most shapes; and next to making people laugh, had rather they stared at what she said. Maria was the echo of the other two: vouched for all Miss Clifton's anecdotes, and led the laugh at Anne's repartees. They were