PS, and PERCY FENDALL.
For the sake of appearances, one of these authors might have sacrificed
the first letter of his name, so that they could have been brought out,
at a premium of course, as PHILIPS and PHENDALL, or FILIPS and FENDALL.
However, this is nothing against the novel, which is a goodish sort of
bad one, or a baddish sort of good one. _Virginibus puerisque_? No, the
Baron thinks not; likewise the Baroness, who enjoyed it immensely and
read it at a single sitting, entertains the same opinion. There is more
genuine humour in some of the sketches of scenes and character, not
absolutely essential to the plot, in this book, than in any of Mr.
PHILIPS'S previous works,--as far, that is, as I can remember. The fault
of the story is the sanctification, as it were, of suicide. What is the
rule with Mr. PHILIPS'S heroines, as far as I am acquainted with them?
"_When in doubt, take poison._" With this reservation, the novel is
thoroughly interesting, well written, too spun out, but there is plenty
of exercise in it for our friend "The Skipper," who will, however, lose
much of the humour of the book by the process. It is published by WHITE
& CO.

In the _New Review_, Sir MORELL MACKENZIE warns smoking vocalists.
This is timely in this smoking-concert time. The Merry
ANDREW-RIDER-LANG-HAGGARD story starts well: may it so finish, and win
by two heads. Read "MARY DAVIES at Home" in _The Woman's World_:
interesting. E. A. ABBEY'S illustrations to ANDREW LANG'S--_encore_
LANG!--comments on _The Merchant of Venice_ are in his Abbeyest manner.

My faithful "Co." is employing his Easter holidays in reading
"shockers." He has already been dreadfully upset by A SOCIETY SCANDAL,
which, he declares, reminds him of "OUIDA" toned down with milk and
water. It is by "RITA," who, as author of _Mystery of a Turkish Bath_,
_Sheba_, _&c., &c., &c._ (see cover), can no longer be called a new
writer. _Fair Phyllis of Lavender Wharf_, by Mr. JAMES GREENWOOD (the
"Amateur Casual"), forms vol. 39 of "The Bristol Library." It is
scarcely up to the standard of _Called Back_, and others of Mr.
ARROWSMITH'S popular shilling publications, but is not uninteresting.
Mr. JAMES SKIPP BORLASE, in _The Police Minister_, tells "A Tale of St.
Petersburg." As an Irishman might say, no one could "Bore lase," so
there is really no necessity to Skipp him. It would scarcely be fair to
tell the plot of this thrilling narrative, but it may be hinted that
_The P