A little farther on in the same work, an unmarried gentleman is supposed to have made his will, bequeathing all his property to friends settled in the colonies; and his relatives at his decease are disputing the same, when this paragraph occurs, and is supposed to be uttered by a _lawyer_: ‘But had he lived to marry Lady A——, he would surely have cancelled this will!’ Probably had the gentleman lived, he would have done so; but our pencil-critic shows that such an act would have been altogether unnecessary, by writing against the paragraph: ‘The act of marrying would have rendered it null.’ This is strictly and legally correct; and as the words are supposed to be spoken by a lawyer, it shows that the opinion of these gentlemen is not always to be implicitly relied upon, especially when they air them in a novel. To turn now to the criticising of situations, we find our amateur critic is quite as hard upon them as he is upon the characters, and will not allow a novelist to make use of situations which it is scarcely probable would happen in real life. A noble lord is forced through some miraculous circumstances which would rival the adventures narrated in the _Arabian Nights_, to associate with poachers, who are well known to the police; and after some time has elapsed, he at length regains the property, which has wrongfully been kept from him by his uncle; and to celebrate this happy event, he gives what is styled in the novel a ‘levée,’ and invites thereto the whole country-side, _including the poachers_, and also the police of the town. Our critic could not quite appreciate the novelty of this situation, and therefore pencils in the margin: ‘Is it likely the poachers would have ventured there?’ After studying the facts of the case, and reducing the subject to practical life, which is evidently the meaning of our critic, and also bearing in mind that the police and poachers were in the same room, and that several of the latter were ‘wanted’ for various offences, we may take that bit of criticism as sound. If our voluntary critics will read novels, they must expect novel things; but as far as our observation goes, this is the very thing they criticise most. They will not allow a young and delicate lady to elope with a handsome Captain on a stormy night with nothing to protect her from the weather but a flimsy ball-dress, under any consideration whatever; but feelingly suggest in the margin that the gentleman should either offer her his ulster or procure an umbrella; a piece of advice for which I am sure the young lady’s parents would devoutly thank them, if they only had the pleasure of their acquaintance.