We
expected better tact in its author, Mr. Inglis, than the adoption of the
title of one of the most successful and least imitable fictions of
modern times. The very title-page provokes a comparison between the Gil
Blas of Le Sage, and a string of romantic adventures, by Mr. Inglis; we
need not add, much to the disadvantage of the latter. It reminds us of
an attempt to cover the sun with a wet blanket. At the same time, the
merit of Mr. Inglis's Gil Blas must not be lowly rated. It abounds with
lively incident, pleasant bits and scenes of travel, and world-knowledge
very agreeably communicated, while its episodal narratives are of the
most wonder-fraught character. It has all the glitter and gaiety of
Spanish life and manners. The author discourses eloquently of "the
charming Andaluz," and other _intriguantes_--absolute Dons of fathers
and monsters of husbands--mingling "bloody-minded assassins," and
hideous wretches, with the sweet emotions of dark eyes, jetty ringlets,
and heaving bosoms. Limbs are lopped off, eyes put out, heads slivered,
and blood spilled like water; and there are scenes in dark towers and
visions of clanking chains in terrific abundance.
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