author's very best vein; and there is a truly delightful scene between Lord Anophel and his chaplain Grovelgrub, when the athletic Sir Oran has not only foiled their attempt on Anthelia, but has mast-headed them on the top of a rock perpendicular. But the gem of the book is the election for the borough of One-Vote--a very amusing farce on the subject of rotten boroughs. Mr. Forester has bought one of the One-Vote seats for his friend the Orang, and, going to introduce him to the constituency, falls in with the purchaser of the other seat, Mr. Sarcastic, who is a practical humorist of the most accomplished kind. The satirical arguments with which Sarcastic combats Forester's enthusiastic views of life and politics, the elaborate spectacle which he gets up on the day of nomination, and the free fight which follows, are recounted with extraordinary spirit. Nor is the least of the attractions of the book an admirable drinking-song, superior to either of those in _Headlong Hall_, though perhaps better known to most people by certain Thackerayan reminiscences of it than in itself:-- THE GHOSTS In life three ghostly friars were we, And now three friendly ghosts we be. Around our shadowy table placed, The spectral bowl before us floats: With wine that none but ghosts can taste We wash our unsubstantial throats. Three merry ghosts--three merry ghosts--three merry ghosts are we: Let the ocean be port and we'll think it good sport To be laid in that Red Sea. With songs that jovial spectres chaunt, Our old refectory still we haunt. The traveller hears our midnight mirth: "Oh list," he cries, "the haunted choir! The merriest ghost that walks the earth Is now the ghost of a ghostly friar." Three merry ghosts--three merry ghosts--three merry ghosts are we: Let the ocean be port and we'll think it good sport To be laid in that Red Sea.