  Mr. James Payn has the peculiar gift of writing a novel as if he were telling you a story viv voce and interesting you in it, not only by reason of its plot, but also by his way of narrating it. There is a spontaneity about his style which to the Baron is most refreshing: it is like listening to two clever men, one of whom is telling the story, and the other is enlivening it with his sharp and appropriate comments, always dropped in parenthetically. Mr. Payn is a good hand at keeping a secret, and it is not for the Baron de B. W. to tell beforehand what the novelist keeps as a little bit up his sleeve till the last moment. Why call it The Burnt Million? To what tremendous conflagration involving such a fearful loss of life does the title point? The story will interest the Million and delight Thousands. Excellent as is the dialogue generally, the Baron ventures to doubt whether any ordinary person (and no one of these characters is a genius) ever begins a sentence with "Nay." Anent The Burnt Million, the Baron's advice to persons in search of a novel is, "Tolle, lege!" Also the Baron says, get La Revue de Famille at Hachette's. Un Foyer de ThÉÂtre, by M. Audebrand, for all interested in the history of the French Drama, is delightful reading. Don't miss Causerie LittÉraire, by Mr. Charles Benoist. The Baroness says, read "Poor Mr. Carrington" in Temple Bar. Lippincott's Magazine this month is heartily welcome,—we should say, Bret Harte-ily welcome. Capital story, by B. H., "A Sappho of Green Sprigs." (Signed) |
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