Glasgow Courier. — 1862-09-11 (Glasgow, Strathclyde, Scotland)

TRASHY NOVELS. A London critic) thus dissects two of the newest fashionable fictions. We had no idea that respectable London publishers could be found to issue such execrable rubbish as "The Weird of the Wentworths," and "The Haunted Castle."  Who in the world is Johannes Scotus, author of "The Weird of the Wentworths ?" Surely there never was a writer so original or a book so amazing. Though it professes to deal with English life in the days of George IV., it is crammed with abduction, murder, arson, and innumerable other crimes. The characters are highly aristocratic, and their conversation is delightful. The Earl of Wentworth asks Captain he Vere if be is going to church: "See you d---d first," is the "curt reply." This captain is a very remarkable person, and has an eccentric habit of sitting on a barrel of gunpowder with the lid half broken off, when he smokes a pipe. His first remark to a young lady whom he meets at a picnic is, "D --d hot, isn't it, Miss Raveiasworth ?" --which the author also describes as a "curt reply." These expletives abound throughout the book, and must have almost exhausted all the dashes in Messrs Clowes & Sons' establishment. Other characters are quite as amazing in their style of talk. The Marquis of Arranmore asks L'Estrange how he likes certain news, and receives as reply— The foul fiend blister your tongue for throwing it in my teeth." Hereupon the Marquis exclaims, 'Halloo, my fine game cock, where did you learn to crow so loudly ?" and the conversation proceeds in a similar strain. There are a good many death-scenes of one sort and another in the book: and the famous Captain de Vera—his ruling passion strong at the last moment—uses up more dashes, exclaiming, "The devil has hold of my heart ! oh, heavens! I die-1 d—i—e !" Our readers must pardon us for not giving any account of the plot, which is simply impossible. In the course of the story everybody fights duels, becomes a bandit, commits atrocious murders, or does something equally interesting. Johannes Scotus has certainly a wonderful imagination: whether, like some distracted poet, he cultivates niichtmare by indigestible suppers, does not appear—but it seems extremely probable. The book is really worth reading, as a psychological study; and one can hardly help wondering what would be Dr Forbes Winslow's opinion's of the author. The two young ladies who have produced "The Haunted Castle" also possess curious notions as to the conduct and conversation of the aristocracy. The story which they have to tell is that the heir to a peerage and estate is kept out of them by his uncle, until the repeated appearances of what is presumed to be his father's ghost,lead to his obtaining his rights. Lord Harringtower, the usurping uncle, is reasoning with his wife on the topic; he begins one of his sentences with, "Well, hark it, my good woman!" Lady Everleith, separated from her husband, hears that he has turned away one of her favourite servants, and exclaims "Oh, doings in Clarinda, how sad thou art!" Lord exclaims, eldest son, Edgar, chaffs his sister Sophy for dancing with an " old hooknose:" the lady retorts by calling her brother "tingle eyes." Sophy and her sister Anne are quarrelling about a gentleman whom each claims as a lover. The former says that Lord Aubrey's visits are to her. "That lam sure they are not, you silly thing," cried Sophy, pale with vexation. "Well, then, I'll get better than him," rejoined Anne. Sometimes our two young ladies almost equal JohannesScotua in their strength of language. Lord Harringtower angrily orders his wife to "retire." "Where to?" H—ll, if you please, madam!" The Hon. Edgar Harringtower is famous for originality in his interjections. "Hiccory ho! what have you got there?" His mother tells him not to sing on a certain occasion. "Lorrysmash! why?" We do not know whether these exclamations belong to the ancient Irish language, but they are quite new to us. When the Misses Meehan have a hero to describe, they do it charmingly. Lord Aubrey Fitzlenard's "eye sparkled with a diamond light that spoke volumes for the purity of the soul that reigned within the full and throbbing breast of the gallant owner." What a nice young man!