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+Project Gutenberg's Essays on Modern Novelists, by William Lyon Phelps
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Essays on Modern Novelists
+
+Author: William Lyon Phelps
+
+Release Date: November 20, 2011 [EBook #38068]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ESSAYS ON MODERN NOVELISTS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Cathy Maxam and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+  ESSAYS
+  ON
+  MODERN NOVELISTS
+
+  BY
+  WILLIAM LYON PHELPS
+
+  M.A. (HARVARD), PH.D. (YALE)
+
+  FORMERLY INSTRUCTOR IN ENGLISH AT HARVARD
+  LAMPSON PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH LITERATURE AT YALE
+
+  New York
+  THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
+  1910
+
+  _All rights reserved_
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE
+
+
+Some of the essays in this volume have appeared in recent numbers of
+various periodicals. The essays on "Mark Twain" and "Thomas Hardy" were
+originally printed in the _North American Review_; those on "Mrs. Ward"
+and "Rudyard Kipling," in the _Forum_; those on "Alfred Ollivant,"
+"Bjoernstjerne Bjoernson," and "Novels as a University Study," in the
+_Independent_. The same magazine contained a portion of the present
+essay on "Lorna Doone," while the article on "The Teacher's Attitude
+toward Contemporary Literature" was written for the _Chicago Interior_.
+My friend, Mr. Andrew Keogh, Reference Librarian of Yale University, has
+been kind enough to prepare the List of Publications, thereby increasing
+my debt to him for many previous favours.
+
+W. L. P.
+
+YALE UNIVERSITY,
+Tuesday, _5 October, 1909_.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+                                                   PAGE
+
+  WILLIAM DE MORGAN                                   1
+
+  THOMAS HARDY                                       33
+
+  WILLIAM DEAN HOWELLS                               56
+
+  BJOeRNSTJERNE BJOeRNSON                              82
+
+  MARK TWAIN                                         99
+
+  HENRYK SIENKIEWICZ                                115
+
+  HERMANN SUDERMANN                                 132
+
+  ALFRED OLLIVANT                                   159
+
+  ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON                            172
+
+  MRS. HUMPHRY WARD                                 191
+
+  RUDYARD KIPLING                                   208
+
+  "LORNA DOONE"                                     229
+
+  APPENDICES                                        245
+
+    A. NOVELS AS A UNIVERSITY STUDY                 245
+
+    B. THE TEACHER'S ATTITUDE TOWARD CONTEMPORARY
+         LITERATURE                                 252
+
+    C. TWO POEMS                                    258
+
+  LIST OF PUBLICATIONS                              261
+
+
+
+
+ESSAYS ON MODERN NOVELISTS
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+WILLIAM DE MORGAN
+
+
+"How can you know whether you are successful or not at forty-one? How do
+you know you won't have a tremendous success, all of a sudden?
+Yes--after another ten years, perhaps--but _some_ time! And then twenty
+years of real, happy work. It has all been before, this sort of thing.
+Why not you?" Thus spoke the hopeful Alice to the despairing Charley;
+and it makes an interesting comment on the very man who wrote the
+conversation, and created the speakers. It has indeed "all been before,
+this sort of thing"; only when an extremely clever person, whose friends
+have always been saying, with an exclamation rather than an
+interrogation point appended, "Why don't you write a novel!" ... waits
+until he has passed his grand climacteric, he displays more faith in
+Providence than in himself. All of which is as it should be. Keats died
+at the age of twenty-five, but, from where I am now writing, I can
+reach his Poetical Works almost without leaving my chair; he is among
+the English Poets. Had Mr. De Morgan died at the age of twenty-five? The
+answer is, he didn't. I am no great believer in mute, inglorious
+Miltons, nor do I think that I daily pass potential novelists in the
+street. Life is shorter than Art, as has frequently been observed; but
+it seems long enough for Genius. Genius resembles murder in that it
+_will_ out; you can no more prevent its expression than you can prevent
+the thrush from singing his song twice over. Crabbed age and youth have
+their peculiar accent. Keats, with all his glory, could not have written
+_Joseph Vance_, and Mr. De Morgan, with all his skill in ceramics, could
+not have fashioned the _Ode on a Grecian Urn_.
+
+Sir Thomas Browne, who loved miracles, did not hesitate to classify the
+supposed importance of the grand climacteric as a vulgar error; he
+included a whole quaint chapter on the subject, in that old curiosity
+shop of literature, the _Pseudodoxia Epidemica_. "And so perhaps hath it
+happened unto the number 7. and 9. which multiplyed into themselves doe
+make up 63. commonly esteemed the great Climactericall of our lives; for
+the dayes of men are usually cast up by septenaries, and every seventh
+yeare conceived to carry some altering character with it, either in the
+temper of body, minde, or both; but among all other, three are most
+remarkable, that is, 7. times 7. or forty-nine, 9. times 9. or
+eighty-one, and 7. times 9. or the yeare of sixty-three; which is
+conceived to carry with it, the most considerable fatality, and
+consisting of both the other numbers was apprehended to comprise the
+vertue of either, is therefore expected and entertained with feare, and
+esteemed a favour of fate to pass it over; which notwithstanding many
+suspect but to be a Panick terrour, and men to feare they justly know
+not what; and for my owne part, to speak indifferently, I find no
+satisfaction, nor any sufficiency in the received grounds to establish a
+rationall feare."
+
+Among various strong reasons against this superstition, Dr. Browne
+presents the impressive argument shown by the Patriarchs: "the lives of
+our forefathers presently after the flood, and more especially before
+it, who, attaining unto 8. or 900. yeares, had not their Climacters
+computable by digits, or as we doe account them; for the great
+Climactericall was past unto them before they begat children, or gave
+any Testimony of their virilitie, for we read not that any begat
+children before the age of sixtie five."
+
+The strange case of William De Morgan would have deeply interested Sir
+Thomas, and he would have given it both full and minute consideration.
+For it was just after he had safely passed the climacterical year of
+sixty-three, that our now famous novelist began what is to us the most
+important chapter of his life, the first chapter of _Joseph Vance_; and,
+like the Patriarchs, it was only after he had reached the age of
+sixty-five that he became fruitful, producing those wonderful children
+of his brain that are to-day everywhere known and loved. Poets ripen
+early; if a man comes to his twenty-fifth birthday without having
+written some things supremely well, he may in most instances abandon all
+hope of immortality in song; but to every would-be novelist it is
+reasonable to whisper those encouraging words, "while there's life
+there's hope." Of the ten writers who may be classed as the greatest
+English novelists, only one--Charles Dickens--published a good novel
+before the age of thirty. Defoe's first fiction of any consequence was
+_Robinson Crusoe_, printed in 1719; he was then fifty-eight years old.
+Richardson had turned fifty before his earliest novel appeared. And
+although I can think at this moment of no case exactly comparable with
+that of the author of _Joseph Vance_, it is a book to which experience
+has contributed as well as inspiration, and would be something, if not
+inferior, at all events very different, had it been composed in early or
+in middle life. For it vibrates with the echoes of a long gallery, whose
+walls are crowded with interesting pictures.
+
+The recent Romantic Revival has produced many novels that have enjoyed a
+brief and noisy popularity; its worst effects are noticeable on the
+minds of readers, unduly stimulated by the constant perusal of
+rapid-fire fiction. Many will not read further than the fourth page,
+unless some casualties have already occurred. To every writer who starts
+with some deliberation, they shout, "Leave your damnable faces and
+begin." Authors who produce for immediate consumption are prepared for
+this; so are the more clever men who write the publishers'
+advertisements. An announcement of a new work by an exceedingly
+fashionable novelist was headed by the appetising line, "This book goes
+with a rush, and ends with a smash." That would hardly do as a
+description of _Clarissa Harlowe_, _Wilhelm Meister_, or some other
+classics. To a highly nervous and irritably impatient reading public, a
+man whose name had no commercial value in literature gravely offered in
+the year of grace 1906 an "ill-written autobiography" of two hundred and
+eighty thousand words! Well, the result is what might _not_ have been
+expected. If ever a confirmed optimist had reason to feel justification
+of his faith, Mr. De Morgan must have seen it in the reception given to
+his first novel.
+
+Despite the great length of Mr. De Morgan's books, and the leisurely
+passages of comment and rather extraneous detail, he never _begins_
+slowly. No producer of ephemeral trash, no sensation-monger, has ever
+got under way with more speed, or taken a swifter initial plunge into
+the very heart of action. One memorable day in 1873, Count Tolstoi
+picked up a little story by Pushkin, which his ten-year-old son had been
+reading aloud to a member of the family. The great Russian glanced at
+the first sentence, "The guests began to assemble the evening before the
+_fete_." He was mightily pleased. "That's the way to begin a story!" he
+cried. "The reader is taken by one stroke into the midst of the action.
+Another writer would have commenced by describing the guests, the rooms,
+while Pushkin--he goes straight at his goal." Some of those in the room
+laughed, and suggested that Tolstoi himself appropriate such a beginning
+and write a novel. He immediately retired and wrote the first sentences
+of _Anna Karenina_; which is literally the manner in which that
+masterpiece came into being.[1] Now if one will open any of Mr. De
+Morgan's works, he will find the procedure that Tolstoi praised.
+Something immediately happens--happens before we have any idea of the
+real character of the agents, and before we hardly know where we are.
+Indeed, the first chapter of _Somehow Good_ may serve as an artistic
+model for the commencement of a novel. It is written with extraordinary
+vivacity and spirit. But the author understands better how to begin his
+works than he does how to end them. The close of _Joseph Vance_ is like
+the mouth of the Mississippi, running off into the open sea through a
+great variety of passages. The ending of _Alice-for-Short_ is
+accomplished only by notes, comment, and citations. And _Somehow Good_
+is simply snipped off, when it might conceivably have proceeded on its
+way. His fourth novel is the only one that ends as well as it begins.
+
+[1] _Leon Tolstoi: Vie et OEuvres. Memoires par P. Birukov. Traduction
+Francaise_, Tome III, p. 177.
+
+You cannot judge books, any more than you can individuals, by the first
+words they say. If I could only discover somewhere some man, woman, or
+child who had not read _Joseph Vance_, I should like to tell him the
+substance of the first chapter, and ask him to guess what sort of a
+story had awakened my enthusiasm. Suppose some person who had never
+heard of Browning should stumble on _Pauline_, and read the first three
+lines:--
+
+    "Pauline, mine own, bend o'er me--thy soft breast
+     Shall pant to mine--bend o'er me--thy sweet eyes,
+     And loosened hair and breathing lips, and arms"
+
+one sees the sharp look of expectation on the reader's face, and one
+almost laughs aloud to think what there is in store for him. He will
+very soon exhibit symptoms of bewilderment, and before he has finished
+the second page he will push the book aside with an air of pious
+disappointment. No slum story ever opened more promisingly than _Joseph
+Vance_. We are led at the very start into a dirty rum-shop; there
+immediately ensues a fight between two half-drunken loafers in the
+darkness without; this results in the double necessity of the police and
+the hospital; and a broken bottle, found against a dead cat, is the
+missile employed to destroy a human eye. In _Alice-for-Short_, the first
+chapter shows us a ragged little girl of six carrying a jug of beer from
+a public-house to a foul basement, where dwell her father and mother,
+both victims of alcohol. The police again. On the third page of _Somehow
+Good_, we have the "fortune to strike on a rich vein of so-called life
+in a London slum." The hero gives a drunken, murderous scoundrel a "blow
+like the kick of a horse, that lands fairly on the eye socket with a
+cracking concussion that can be heard above the tumult, and is followed
+by a roar of delight from the male vermin." Once more the police. _It
+Never Can Happen Again_ begins in a corner of London unspeakably vile.
+
+Zola and Gorky at their best, and worst--for it is sometimes hard to
+make the distinction--have not often surpassed the first chapters of Mr.
+De Morgan's four novels. Never has a writer waded more unflinchingly
+into the slime. And yet the very last word to characterise these books
+would be the word "slum-stories." The foundations of Mr. De Morgan's
+work, like the foundations of cathedrals, are deep in the dirt; but the
+total impression is one of exceeding beauty. Indeed, with our novelist's
+conception of life, as a progress toward something high and sublime,
+where evil not only exists, but is a necessary factor in development,
+the darkness of the shadows proves the intense radiance of the sun. The
+planet Venus is so bright, we are accustomed to remark, that it
+sometimes casts a shadow. Christopher Vance emerges from beastly
+degradation to a position of power, influence, and usefulness; the Heath
+family, in receiving Alice, entertain an angel unawares; and the march
+of _Somehow Good_ goes from hell, through purgatory, and into paradise.
+It is a divine comedy, in more ways than one; and shows that sometimes
+the goal of ill is very unlike the start.
+
+We had not read far into _Joseph Vance_ before we shouted _Dickens
+Redivivus!_ or some equivalent remark in the vernacular. We made this
+outcry with no tincture of depreciation and with no yelp of the
+plagiarism-hunting hound. It requires little skill to observe the
+similarity to Dickens, as was proved by the fact that everyone noticed
+it. In general, the shout was one of glad recognition; it was the
+welcome given to the sound of a voice that had been still. It was not an
+imitation: it was a reincarnation. The spirit of Dickens had really
+entered into William De Morgan; many chapters in _Joseph Vance_ sounded
+as if they had been dictated by the ghost of the author of
+_Copperfield_. No book since 1870 had given so vivid an impression of
+the best-beloved of all English novelists. This is meant to be high
+praise. When Walt Whitman was being exalted for his unlikeness to the
+great poets, one sensible critic quietly remarked, "It is easier to
+differ from the great poets than to resemble them." To "remind us of
+Dickens" would be as difficult for many modern novelists as for a
+molehill to remind us of the Matterhorn.
+
+We may say, however, that _Joseph Vance_ and _It Never Can Happen Again_
+are more like Dickens in character and in detail than is
+_Alice-for-Short_; and that the latter is closer to Dickens than is
+_Somehow Good_. The Reverend Benaiah Capstick infallibly calls to mind
+the spiritual adviser of Mrs. Weller; with the exception that the latter
+was also spirituous. That kind of religion does not seem strongly to
+appeal to either novelist; for Mr. Stiggins took to drink, and Capstick
+to an insane asylum. There are many things in the conversation of
+Christopher Vance that recall the humorous world-wisdom of the elder
+Weller; and so we might continue, were it profitable. Another great
+point of resemblance between Mr. De Morgan and Dickens is seen in the
+method of narration chosen by each. Here William De Morgan is simply
+following in the main track of English fiction, where the novelist
+cannot refrain from _editing_ the text of the story. The course of
+events is constantly interrupted by the author's gloss. Now when the
+author's mind is not particularly interesting, the comment is an
+unpleasant interruption; it is both impertinent and dull. But when the
+writer is himself more profound, more clever, and more entertaining than
+even his best characters, we cannot have too much of him. It is true
+that Mr. De Morgan has told a good story in each of his novels; but it
+is also true that the story is not the cause of their reputation. We
+read these books with delight because the characters are so attractive,
+and because the author's comments on them and on events are so
+penetrating. If it is true, as some have intimated, that this method of
+novel-writing proves that Mr. De Morgan, whatever he is, is not a
+literary artist, then it is undeniable that Fielding, Dickens, Trollope,
+and Thackeray are not artists; which is absurd, as Euclid would say.
+Great books are invariably greater than our definitions of them.
+Browning and Wagner composed great works of Art without paying much
+attention to the rules of the game.
+
+As compared with French and Russian fiction, English novels from
+Fielding to De Morgan have unquestionably sounded a note of insincerity.
+One reason for this lies in the fact that to the Anglo-Saxon mind,
+Morality has always seemed infinitely more important than Art. Matthew
+Arnold spent his life fighting the Philistines; but when he said that
+conduct was three-fourths of life, there was jubilation in the enemy's
+camp. Now Zola declared that a novel could no more be called immoral in
+its descriptions than a text-book on physiology; the novelist commits a
+sin when he writes a badly constructed sentence. A disciple of this
+school insisted that it was more important to have an accurate sense of
+colour than to have a clear notion of right and wrong. Fortunately for
+the true greatness of humanity, you never can get the average Englishman
+or American to swallow such doctrine. But it is at the same time certain
+that among English-speaking peoples Art has seldom been taken with
+sufficient seriousness. We are handy with our fists; but you cannot
+imagine us using them in behalf of literature, as we do for real or
+personal property. So far as I know, an English audience in the theatre
+has never been excited on a purely artistic question--a matter of
+frequent occurrence on the Continent. We seem to believe that, after
+all, Art has no place in the serious business of life; it is a
+recreation, to amuse a mind overstrained by money-making or by
+political affairs. We leave it to women, who are supposed to have more
+leisure for trifles.
+
+For this reason, English novelists have generally felt compelled to
+treat their public as a tired mother treats a restless child. Our
+novelists have been in mortal terror lest the attention of their
+audience should wander; and instead of taking their work and their
+readers seriously, they continually hand us lollipops. Their attitude is
+at once apologetic and insulting. They do not dare to believe that a
+great work of Art--without personal comment--has in itself moral
+greatness, and they do not dare trust the intelligence of spectators,
+but must forsooth constantly break the illusion by soothing or
+explanatory remarks. The fact that in our greatest writers this is often
+presented from the standpoint of humour, does not prevent the loss of
+illusion; and in writers who are not great, the reader feels nothing but
+indignation. In the first chapter of the third book of _Amelia_, we find
+the following advice:--
+
+     "He then proceeded as Miss Matthews desired; but, lest all our
+     readers should not be of her opinion, we will, according to our
+     usual custom, endeavour to accommodate ourselves to every taste,
+     and shall, therefore, place this scene in a chapter by itself,
+     which we desire all our readers who do not love, or who, perhaps,
+     do not know the pleasure of tenderness, to pass over; since they
+     may do this without any prejudice to the thread of the narrative."
+
+In the first chapter of _Shirley_, Charlotte Bronte prologises as
+follows:--
+
+     "If you think ... that anything like a romance is preparing for
+     you, reader, you never were more mistaken.... Calm your
+     expectations; reduce them to a lowly standard. Something real,
+     cool, and solid lies before you;... It is not positively affirmed
+     that you shall not have a taste of the exciting, perhaps toward the
+     middle and close of the meal, but it is resolved that the first
+     dish set upon the table shall be one that a Catholic--ay, even an
+     Anglo-Catholic--might eat on Good Friday in Passion Week; it shall
+     be cold lentils and vinegar without oil; it shall be unleavened
+     bread with bitter herbs, and no roast lamb."
+
+William Black once wrote a novel called _Madcap Violet_, which he
+intended for a tragedy, and in which, therefore, we have a right to
+expect some artistic dignity. About midway in the volume we find the
+following:--
+
+     "At this point, and in common courtesy to his readers, the writer
+     of these pages considers himself bound to give fair warning that
+     the following chapter deals solely and wholly with the shooting of
+     mergansers, curlews, herons, and such like fearful wild fowl;
+     therefore, those who regard such graceless idling with aversion,
+     and are anxious to get on with the story, should at once proceed to
+     chapter twenty-three."
+
+At the beginning of the second chapter of _Dr. Thorne_, one of the best
+of Trollope's novels, we are petted in this manner:--
+
+     "A few words must still be said about Miss Mary before we rush into
+     our story; the crust will then have been broken, and the pie will
+     be open to the guests."
+
+At the three hundred and seventy-second page of the late Marion
+Crawford's entertaining story, _The Prima Donna_, the course of the
+narrative is thus interrupted:--
+
+     "Now at this stage of my story it would be unpardonable to keep my
+     readers in suspense, if I may suppose that any of them have a
+     little curiosity left. Therefore, I shall not narrate in detail
+     what happened Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, seeing that it was just
+     what might have been expected to happen at a week-end party during
+     the season when there is nothing in the world to do but to play
+     golf, tennis, or croquet, or to write or drive all day, and to work
+     hard at bridge all the evening; for that is what it has come to."
+
+Finally, in the first chapter of Mr. Winston Churchill's novel,
+_Coniston_, the author pleads with his reader in this style:--
+
+     "The reader is warned that this first love-story will, in a few
+     chapters, come to an end; and not to a happy end--otherwise there
+     would be no book. Lest he should throw the book away when he
+     arrives at this page, it is only fair to tell him that there is
+     another and much longer love-story later on, if he will only
+     continue to read, in which, it is hoped, he may not be
+     disappointed."
+
+Imagine Turgenev or Flaubert scribbling anything similar to the
+interpolations quoted above! When a great French novelist does
+condescend to speak to his reader, it is in a tone, that so far from
+belittling his own art, or sugaring the expectation of his listener, has
+quite the contrary effect. On the second page of _Pere Goriot_, we find
+the following solemn warning:--
+
+     "Ainsi ferez-vous, vous qui tenez ce livre d'une main blanche, vous
+     qui vous enfoncez dans un molleux fauteuil en vous disant:
+     'Peut-etre ceci va-t-il m'amuser.' Apres avoir lu les secretes
+     infortunes du pere Goriot, vous dinerez avec appetit en mettant
+     votre insensibilite sur le compte de l'auteur, en le taxant
+     d'exageration, en l'accusant de poesie. Ah! sachez-le: ce drame
+     n'est ni une fiction ni un roman. _All is true_, il est si
+     veritable, que chacun peut en reconnaitre les elements chez soi,
+     dans son coeur peut-etre."
+
+The chief objection to these constant remarks to the reader, so common
+in great English novels, is that they for the moment destroy the
+illusion. Suppose an actress in the midst of Ophelia's mad scene should
+suddenly pause and address the audience in her own accents in this wise:
+"I observe that some ladies among the spectators are weeping, and that
+some men are yawning. Allow me to say to those of you who dislike tragic
+events on the stage, that I shall remain here only a few moments longer,
+and shall not have much to say; and that if you will only be patient,
+the grave-diggers will come on before long, and it is probable that
+their conversation will amuse you."
+
+The two reasons given above, the fear that a novel unexplained by
+author's comment will not justify itself morally, and that at all
+hazards the gentle reader must be placated and entertained, undoubtedly
+partly explain a long tradition in the course of English fiction. But
+while we may protest against this sort of thing in general, it is well
+to remember that we must take our men of genius as we find them, and
+rejoice that they have seen fit to employ any channel of expression.
+There are many different kinds of great novels, as there are of great
+poems. The fact that Tennyson's poetry belongs to the first class does
+not in the least prevent the totally different poetry of Browning from
+being ranked equally high. _Joseph Vance_ is a very different kind of
+novel from _The Return of the Native_, but both awaken our wonder and
+delight. There are some books that inspire us by their art, and there
+are others that inspire us by their ideas. Turgenev was surely a greater
+artist than Tolstoi, but _Anna Karenina_ is a veritable piece of life.
+
+I do not say that William De Morgan is not a great artist, because, if I
+should say it, I should not know exactly what I meant. But the immense
+pleasure that his books give me is another kind of pleasure than I
+receive from _The Scarlet Letter_. _Joseph Vance_ is not so much a
+beautifully written or exquisitely constructed novel as it is an
+encyclopaedia of life. We meet real people, we hear delightful
+conversation, and the tremendously interesting personality of the author
+is everywhere apparent. The opinion of many authors concerning
+immortality is not worth attention; but I should very much like to know
+Mr. De Morgan's views on this absorbing subject. And so I turn to the
+fortieth chapter of _Joseph Vance_ with great expectations. The reader
+is advised to skip this chapter, a sure indication of its importance.
+For, like all humorists, Mr. De Morgan is a bit shamefaced when he talks
+about the deepest things, the things that really interest him most. It
+surely will not do to have Dr. Thorpe talk like the Reverend Mr.
+Capstick, although they both eagerly discuss what we call the
+supernatural. Capstick is an ass, but he has one characteristic that we
+might, to a certain extent, imitate; he sees no reason to apologise for
+conversing on great topics, or to break up such a conversation with an
+embarrassed laugh. Most of us are horribly afraid of being taken for
+sanctimonious persons, when there is really not the slightest danger. We
+are always pleasantly surprised when we discover that our friends are at
+heart just as serious as we are, and that they, too, regret the mask of
+flippancy that our Anglo-Saxon false modesty compels us to wear. But, as
+some one has said, you cannot expect your audience to take your views
+seriously unless you express them with seriousness. Mr. De Morgan, like
+Robert Browning, would doubtless deny that Dr. Thorpe spoke only the
+author's thoughts; but just as you can hear Browning's voice all through
+those "utterances of so many imaginary persons, not mine," so I feel
+confident that amid all the light banter of this charming talk in the
+fortieth chapter, the following remark of Dr. Thorpe expresses the
+philosophy of William De Morgan, and at the same time the basal moral
+principle underlying this entire novel:--"The highest good is the growth
+of the Soul, and the greatest man is he who rejoices most in great
+fulfilments of the will of God."
+
+For although Mr. De Morgan belongs, like Dickens, to the great
+humorists, who, while keenly conscious of the enormous difference
+between right and wrong, regard the world with a kindly smile for human
+weakness and folly, he is mainly a psychologist. To all of his novels he
+might appropriately have prefixed the words of the author of _Sordello_:
+"My stress lay on the incidents in the development of a soul; little
+else is worth study." All the characters that he loves show
+_soul-development_; the few characters that are unlovely have souls that
+do not advance. Joseph, Lossie, Janey, Alicia, Charles Heath, Rosalind,
+Athelstan, have the inner man renewed day by day; one feels that at
+physical death such personalities proceed naturally into a sphere of
+eternal progress. On the other hand, Joey's soul stands still; so do the
+souls of Violet, Lavinia Straker, Mrs. Vereker, Mrs. Eldridge, Judith,
+and Mrs. Craik. Why should they live for ever? They would always be the
+same. This is the real distinction in these novels between people that
+are fundamentally good and those that are fundamentally bad; whether
+their badness causes tragedy or merely constant irritation. It is an
+original manner of dividing virtue from vice, but it is illuminating.
+
+The events in Mr. De Morgan's books are improbable, but the people are
+probable. The same might be said of Shakespeare. It is highly improbable
+that Christopher Vance could have risen to fortune through his
+sign-board, or that Fenwick should have been electrocuted at the feet of
+his wife's daughter. But Christopher Vance, Fenwick, and Sally behave
+precisely as people would behave in such emergencies in real life. In
+many ways I think Christopher Vance is the most convincing character in
+all the novels; at any rate, I had rather hear him talk than any of the
+others. There is no trace of meanness in him, and even when he is drunk
+he is never offensive or disgusting. The day after he has returned
+intoxicated from a meeting of the Board of Arbitrators, he seems rather
+inquisitive as to his exact condition, and asks his son:--
+
+     "I wasn't singin' though, Nipper, was I?" I said certainly not!
+     "Not 'a Landlady of France she loved an Officer, 'tis said,' nor
+     'stick 'em up again in the middle of a three-cent pie'?"
+
+     "Neither of them--quite certain." My father seemed reassured.
+     "That's _something_, anyhow," said he. "The other Arbitrators was
+     singin' both. Likewise 'Rule Britannia.' Weak-headed cards, the two
+     on 'em!"
+
+The scene at Christopher Vance's death-bed, when Joseph finally
+discloses the identity of the boy who threw the piece of glass into the
+eye of the Sweep, touches the depths of true pathos. One feels the
+infinite love of the father for the little son who defended him. He is
+quite rightly prouder of that exploit than of all the Nipper's
+subsequent learning.
+
+While the imaginary events in this novel bear no sort of relation to the
+circumstances of the author's own life, I cannot help launching the mere
+guess that the father of William De Morgan was, to a certain extent, a
+combination of Christopher Vance and Dr. Thorpe. For Augustus De Morgan
+was not only a distinguished mathematical scholar, he was well-known for
+the keenness of his wit. He had the learning and refinement of Dr.
+Thorpe, and the shrewd, irresistible humour of old Vance. At all events,
+this striking combination in the novelist can be traced to no more
+probable source.
+
+The influence of good women on men's lives is repeatedly shown; it is
+indeed a leading principle in three of the books. One of the most
+notable differences in novels that reflect a pessimistic
+_Weltanschauung_ from those that indicate the contrary may be seen right
+here. How completely the whole significance of the works of Guy de
+Maupassant would change had he included here and there some women who
+combined virtue with personal charm! "Were there no women, men would
+live like gods," said a character in one of Dekker's plays; judged by
+much modern fiction, one would feel like trying the experiment. But what
+would become of Mr. De Morgan's novels, and of the attitude toward life
+they so clearly reflect, if they contained no women? Young Joseph Vance
+was fortunate indeed in having in his life the powerful influence of two
+such characters as Lossie Thorpe and Janey Spencer. They were what a
+compass is to a shipman, taking him straight on his course through the
+blackest storms. It was for Lossie that he made the greatest sacrifice
+in his whole existence; and nothing pays a higher rate of moral interest
+than a big sacrifice. It was Janey who led him from the grossness of
+earth into the spiritual world, something that Lossie, with all her
+loveliness, could not do. Both women show that there is nothing
+inherently dull in goodness; it may be accompanied with some _esprit_.
+We are too apt to think that moral goodness is represented by such
+persons as the Elder Brother in the story of the Prodigal Son, when the
+parable indicates that the younger brother, with all his crimes, was
+actually the more virtuous of the two. It took no small skill for Mr. De
+Morgan to create such an irresistibly good woman as Lossie, make his
+hero in love with her from boyhood, cause her to marry some one else,
+and then to unite the heart-broken hero with another girl; and through
+these tremendous upheavals to make all things work together for good,
+and to the reader's complete satisfaction. This could not possibly have
+been accomplished had not the author been able to fashion a woman, who,
+while totally unlike Lossie in every physical and mental aspect, was
+spiritually even more attractive. I am not sure which of the two girls
+has the bigger place in their maker's heart; I suspect it is Lossie; but
+to me Janey is not only a better woman, I really have a stronger
+affection for her.
+
+In _Alice-for-Short_, the hero is again blessed with two guardian
+angels, his sister and his second wife. Mr. De Morgan is extremely
+generous to his favourite men, in permitting either their second choice
+or their second experiment in matrimony to prove such an amazing
+success. Comparatively few novelists dare to handle the problem of happy
+second marriages; the subject for some reason does not lend itself
+readily to romance. Josh Billings said he knew of absolutely nothing
+that would cure a man of laziness; but that a second wife would
+sometimes help. Although he said this in the spirit of farce, it is
+exactly what happens in Mr. De Morgan's books. Janey is not technically
+a second wife, but she is spiritually; and she rescues Joseph from
+despair, restores his ambition and capacity to work, and after her death
+is like a guiding star. Alice is a second wife, both in her husband's
+heart and in the law; and her influence on Charles Heath provides
+exactly the stimulus needed to save him from himself. Fenwick marries
+for the second time, and although his wife is in one sense the same
+person, in another she is not; she is quite different in everything
+except constancy from the wretched girl he left sobbing on the verandah
+in India. And what would have become of Fenwick without the mature
+Rosalind? Salvation, in Mr. De Morgan's novels, often assumes a feminine
+shape. They are not books of Friendship, like _The Cloister and the
+Hearth_, _Trilby_, and _Es War_; with all their wonderful intelligence
+and play of intellect, they would seem almost barren without women. And
+he is far more successful in depicting love after marriage than before.
+One of the most charming characteristics of these stories is the
+frequent representation of the highest happiness known on earth--not
+found in the passion of early youth, but in a union of two hearts
+cemented by joy and sorrow in the experience of years. No novelist has
+ever given us better pictures of a good English home; more attractive
+glimpses into the reserveless intimacy of the affairs of the hearth. The
+conversations between Christopher Vance and his wife, between Sir Rupert
+and Lady Johnson, between Fenwick and Rosalind, are decidedly superior
+to the "love-making" scenes. Indeed, the description of the walk during
+which young Dr. Vereker definitely wins Sally, is disappointing. It is
+perhaps the only important episode in Mr. De Morgan's novels that shows
+more effort than inspiration.
+
+The style in these books, despite constant quotation, is not at all a
+literary style. Joseph Vance is called "an ill-written autobiography,"
+because it lacks entirely the conventional manner. Many works of fiction
+are composed in what might be called the terminology of the art; just as
+works in science and in sport are compelled to repeat constantly the
+same verbal forms. The astonishing freshness and charm of Mr. De
+Morgan's method consist partly in his abandonment of literary precedent,
+and adhering only to actual observation. It is as though an actor on the
+stage should suddenly drop his mannerism of accent and gesture, and
+behave as he would were he actually, instead of histrionically, happy or
+wretched. Despite the likeness to Dickens in characters and atmosphere,
+_Joseph Vance_ sounds not only as though its author had never written a
+novel previously, but as though he had never read one. It has the
+strangeness of reality. There is no lack of action in these huge
+narratives: the men and women pass through the most thrilling incidents,
+and suffer the greatest extremes of passion, pain, and joy that the
+human mind can endure. We have three cases of drowning, one tremendous
+fire; and in _Somehow Good_--which, viewed merely as a story, is the
+best of them--a highly eventful plot; and, spiritually, the characters
+give us an idea of how much agony the heart can endure without quite
+breaking. But though the bare plot seems almost like melodrama, the
+style is never on stilts. In the most awful crises, the language has the
+absolute simplicity of actual circumstance. When Rosalind recognises her
+husband in the cab, we wonder why she takes it so coolly. Some sixty
+pages farther along, we come upon this paragraph:--
+
+     "Nevertheless, these were not so absolute that her demeanour
+     escaped comment from the cabby, the only witness of her first sight
+     of the 'electrocuted' man. He spoke of her afterwards as that
+     squealing party down that sanguinary little turning off Shepherd's
+     Bush Road he took that sanguinary galvanic shock to."
+
+Our author is fond of presenting events of the most momentous
+consequence through the lips of humble and indifferent observers. It is
+only the cabman's chance testimony which shows us that even Rosalind's
+superb self-control had the limit determined by real womanhood; and in
+_Joseph Vance_, the great climax of emotion, when Lossie visits her
+maligned old lover, is given with unconscious force through the faulty
+vernacular of the "slut" of a servant-maid, who is utterly unaware of
+the angels that ministered over that scene; and then by the broken
+English of the German chess-player, equally blind to the divine
+presence. Compare these two crude testimonies, which make the ludicrous
+blunders made by the Hostess in that marvellous account of the death of
+Falstaff, and you have a veritable harmony of the Gospels. Some
+novelists use an extraordinary style to describe ordinary events; Mr. De
+Morgan uses an ordinary style to describe extraordinary events.
+
+Even in his latest book, _It Never Can Happen Again_,[2] the least
+cheerful of all his productions, the title is intended to be as
+comforting as Charles Reade's caption, _It Is Never Too Late to Mend_.
+In this story, Mr. De Morgan descends into hell. Delirium tremens has
+never been pictured with more frightful horror than in the awful night
+when the mad wretch is bent on murder. No scene in any naturalistic
+novel surpasses this in vivid detail. Indeed, all of Mr. De Morgan's
+books might well be circulated as anti-alcohol tracts; the real villain
+in his tragedies is Drink. Even though drunkenness in a certain aspect
+supplies comedy in _Joseph Vance_, drink is, after all, the ruin of old
+Christopher, and we are left with no shade of doubt that this is so. Mr.
+De Morgan's unquestionable optimism does not blink the dreadful aspects
+of life, any more than did Browning's. The scene in the hospital, where
+the fingers without finger-nails clasp the mighty hand in the rubber
+glove, is as loathsomely horrible as anything to be found in the annals
+of disease. And the career of Blind Jim, entirely ignorant of his divine
+origin and destiny, is a series of appalling calamities. He has lost his
+sight in a terrible accident; he is run over by a waggon, and loses his
+leg; he is run over by an automobile, and loses his life. He has also
+lost, though he does not know it, what is far dearer to him than eyes,
+or legs, or life,--his little daughter. And yet we do not need the
+spirit voice of the dead child to assure us that all is well. Indeed,
+the tragic history of Jim and Lizarann is not nearly so depressing as
+the humdrum narrative of the melancholy quarrel between Mr. and Mrs.
+Challis. In previous novels, the author has been pleased to show us
+domestic happiness; here we have the dreary round of perpetual discord.
+Of course no one can complain of Mr. De Morgan for his choice in this
+matter; it is certainly true that not all marriages are happy, even
+though the majority of them (as I believe) are. The difficulty is that
+the triangle in this book--husband, wife, and beautiful young lady--has
+no corner of real interest. It is not entirely the fault of either Mr.
+or Mrs. Challis that they separate; there is much to be said on both
+sides. What we object to is the fact that it is impossible to sympathise
+with either of them; this is not because each is guilty, but because
+neither is interesting. We do not much care what becomes of them. And as
+for Judith, the technical virgin who causes all the trouble, she is a
+very dull person. We do not need this book to learn that female beauty
+without brains fascinates the ordinary man. The best scenes are those
+where Blind Jim and Lizarann appear; they are a couple fully worthy of
+Dickens at his best. Unfortunately they do not appear often enough to
+suit us, and they both die. We could more easily have spared Mr. and
+Mrs. Challis, the latter's abominable tea-gossip friend, and that old
+hypocritical tiger-cat, Mrs. Challis's mother. Why does Mr. De Morgan
+make elderly women so disgustingly unattractive? Does his sympathy with
+life desert him here? The entire Challis household, including the
+satellites of relationship and propinquity, are hardly worth the
+author's skill or the reader's attention. One would suppose that a
+brilliant novelist, like Challis, pulled from the domestic orbit by a
+comet like Judith, would be for a time in an interesting, if not an
+edifying, position; but he is not. Perhaps Mr. De Morgan wishes to show
+with the impartiality of a true chronicler of life that a married man,
+drawn away by his own lust, and enticed, can be just as dull in sin as
+in virtue. Yet the long dreary family storm ends in sunshine; the
+discordant pair are redeemed by Love,--the real motive power of this
+story,--and one feels that it can never happen again. In spite of Mr. De
+Morgan's continual onslaught on creeds, Athelstan Taylor, who believes
+the whole Apostles' Creed, compares very favourably with Challis, who
+believes only the first seven and the last four words of it, apparently
+the portion accepted by Mr. De Morgan: and by their fruits ye shall know
+them. It is certainly a proof of the fair-mindedness of our novelist,
+that he has created orthodox believers like Lossie's husband and
+Athelstan Taylor, big wholesome fellows, both of them; and has
+deliberately made both so irresistibly attractive. The professional
+parson is often ridiculed in modern novels; it is worth noting that in
+this story the only important character in the whole work who combines
+intelligence with virtue is the Reverend Athelstan Taylor.
+
+[2] Through the kindness of Messrs. Henry Holt and Co., I have had the
+privilege of reading this novel in proof sheets.
+
+Seldom have any books shown so intimate a knowledge of the kingdom of
+this world and at the same time reflected with such radiance the kingdom
+of heaven. It is noteworthy and encouraging that a man who portrays with
+such humorous exactitude the things that are seen and temporal, should
+exhibit so firm a faith in the things that are unseen and eternal. In
+_Joseph Vance_ we have the growth of the soul from an environment of
+poverty and crime to the loftiest heights of nobility and self-denial;
+and the theme in the Waldstein Sonata triumphantly repeats the
+confidence of Dr. Thorpe, who regards death not as a barrier, but as a
+gateway. In _Alice-for-Short_, the mystery of the spirit-world
+completely envelops the humdrum inconsistencies that form the daily
+round, the trivial task; this is seen perhaps not so much in the
+"ghosts," for they speak of the past; but the figure of old
+Verrinder--whose heart revolves about the Asylum like the planet around
+the sun--and the waking of old Jane from her long sleep, seem to
+symbolise the impotence of Time to quench the divine spark of Love. This
+story is called a "dichronism"; but it might have been called a
+_dichroism_, for from one viewpoint it reflects only the clouded colour
+of earth, and from another a celestial glory. In _Somehow Good_ the
+ugliest tragedy takes its place in the unapparent order of life. It is
+not that good finally reigns in spite of evil; the final truth is that
+in some manner good is the very goal of ill. The agony of separation has
+tested the pure metal of character; and the fusion of two lives is made
+permanent in the frightful heat of awful pain. The fruit of a repulsive
+sin may be Beauty, like a flower springing from a dung-hill. "What
+became of the baby?... _The_ baby--_his_ baby--_his_ horrible baby!"
+"Gerry darling! Gerry _dearest_! do think...."
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+THOMAS HARDY
+
+
+The father of Thomas Hardy wished his son to enter the church, and this
+object was the remote goal of his early education. At just what period
+in the boy's mental development Christianity took on the form of a
+meaningless fable, we shall perhaps never know; but after a time he
+ceased to have even the faith of a grain of mustard seed. This absence
+of religious belief has proved no obstacle to many another candidate for
+the Christian ministry, as every habitual church-goer knows; or as any
+son of Belial may discover for himself by merely reading the prospectus
+of summer schools of theology. There has, however, always been a certain
+cold, mathematical precision in Mr. Hardy's way of thought that would
+have made him as uncomfortable in the pulpit as he would have been in an
+editor's chair, writing for salary persuasive articles containing the
+exact opposite of his individual convictions. But, although the beauty
+of holiness failed to impress his mind, the beauty of the sanctuary was
+sufficiently obvious to his sense of Art. He became an ecclesiastical
+architect, and for some years his delight was in the courts of the Lord.
+Instead of composing sermons in ink, he made sermons in stones,
+restoring to many a decaying edifice the outlines that the original
+builder had seen in his vision centuries ago. For no one has ever
+regarded ancient churches with more sympathy and reverence than Mr.
+Hardy. No man to-day has less respect for God and more devotion to His
+house.
+
+Mr. Hardy's professional career as an architect extended over a period
+of about thirteen years, from the day when the seventeen-year-old boy
+became articled, to about 1870, when he forsook the pencil for the pen.
+His strict training as an architect has been of enormous service to him
+in the construction of his novels, for skill in constructive drawing has
+repeatedly proved its value in literature. Rossetti achieved positive
+greatness as an artist and as a poet. Stevenson's studies in engineering
+were not lost time, and Mr. De Morgan affords another good illustration
+of the same fact. Thackeray was unconsciously learning the art of the
+novelist while he was making caricatures, and the lesser Thackeray of a
+later day--George du Maurier--found the transition from one art to the
+other a natural progression. Hopkinson Smith and Frederic Remington, on
+a lower but dignified plane, bear witness to the same truth. Indeed,
+when one studies carefully the beginnings of the work of imaginative
+writers, one is surprised at the great number who have handled an
+artist's or a draughtsman's pencil. A prominent and successful
+playwright of to-day has said that if he were not writing plays, he
+should not dream of writing books; he would be building bridges.
+
+Mr. Hardy's work as an ecclesiastical architect laid the real
+foundations of his success as a novelist; for it gave him an intimate
+familiarity with the old monuments and rural life of Wessex, and at the
+same time that eye for precision of form that is so noticeable in all
+his books. He has really never ceased to be an architect. Architecture
+has contributed largely to the matter and to the style of his stories.
+Two architects appear in his first novel. In _A Pair of Blue Eyes_
+Stephen Smith is a professional architect, and in coming to restore the
+old Western Church he was simply repeating the experience of his
+creator. No one of Mr. Hardy's novels contains more of the facts of his
+own life than _A Laodicean_, which was composed on what the author then
+believed to be his death-bed; it was mainly dictated, which I think
+partly accounts for its difference in style from the other tales. The
+hero, Somerset, is an architect whose first meeting with his future
+wife occurs through his professional curiosity concerning the castle;
+and a considerable portion of the early chapters is taken up with
+architectural detail, and of his enforced rivalry with a competitor in
+the scheme for restoration. Not only does Mr. Hardy's scientific
+profession speak through the mouths of his characters, but old and
+beautiful buildings adorn his pages as they do the landscape he loves.
+In _Two on a Tower_ the ancient structure appears here and there in the
+story as naturally and incidentally as it would to a pedestrian in the
+neighbourhood; in _A Pair of Blue Eyes_ the church tower plays an
+important part in a thrilling episode, and its fall emphasises a
+Scripture text in a diabolical manner. The old church at Weatherbury is
+so closely associated with the life history of the men and women in _Far
+from the Madding Crowd_ that as one stands in front of it to-day the
+people seem to gather again about its portal....
+
+But while Mr. Hardy has drawn freely on his knowledge of architecture in
+furnishing animate and inanimate material for his novels, the great
+results of his youthful training are seen in a more subtle and
+profounder influence. The intellectual delight that we receive in the
+perusal of his books--a delight that sometimes makes us impatient with
+the work of feebler authors--comes largely from the architectonics of
+his literary structures. One never loses sight of Hardy the architect.
+In purely constructive skill he has surpassed all his contemporaries.
+His novels--with the exception of _Desperate Remedies_ and _Jude the
+Obscure_--are as complete and as beautiful to contemplate as a
+sculptor's masterpiece. They are finished and noble works of art, and
+give the same kind of pleasure to the mind as any superbly perfect
+outline. Mr. Hardy himself firmly believes that the novel should first
+of all be a story: that it should not be a thesis, nor a collection of
+reminiscences or _obiter dicta_. He insists that a novel should be as
+much of a whole as a living organism, where all the parts--plot,
+dialogue, character, and scenery--should be fitly framed together,
+giving the single impression of a completely harmonious building. One
+simply cannot imagine him writing in the manner of a German novelist,
+with absolutely no sense of proportion; nor like the mighty Tolstoi, who
+steadily sacrifices Art on the altar of Reality; nor like the great
+English school represented by Thackeray, Dickens, Trollope, and De
+Morgan, whose charm consists in their intimacy with the reader; they
+will interrupt the narrative constantly to talk it over with the merest
+bystander, thus gaining his affection while destroying the illusion. Mr.
+Hardy's work shows a sad sincerity, the noble austerity of the true
+artist, who feels the dignity of his art and is quite willing to let it
+speak for itself.
+
+His earliest novel, _Desperate Remedies_, is more like an architect's
+first crude sketch than a complete and detailed drawing. Strength,
+originality, and a thoroughly intelligent design are perfectly clear;
+one feels the impelling mind behind the product. But it resembles the
+_plan_ of a good novel rather than a novel itself. The lines are hard;
+there is a curious rigidity about the movement of the plot which
+proceeds in jerks, like a machine that requires frequent winding up. The
+manuscript was submitted to a publishing firm, who, it is interesting to
+remember, handed it over to their professional reader, George Meredith.
+Mr. Meredith told the young author that his work was promising; and he
+said it in such a way that the two men became life-long friends, there
+being no more jealousy between them than existed between Tennyson and
+Browning. Years later Mr. Meredith said that he regarded Mr. Hardy as
+the real leader of contemporary English novelists; and the younger man
+always maintained toward his literary adviser an attitude of sincere
+reverence, of which his poem on the octogenarian's death was a beautiful
+expression. There is something fine in the honest friendship and mutual
+admiration of two giants, who cordially recognise each other above the
+heads of the crowd, and who are themselves placidly unmoved by the
+fierce jealousy of their partisans. In this instance, despite a total
+unlikeness in literary style, there was genuine intellectual kinship.
+Mr. Meredith and Mr. Hardy were both Pagans and regarded the world and
+men and women from the Pagan standpoint, though the deduction in one
+case was optimism and in the other pessimism. Given the premises, the
+younger writer's conclusions seem more logical; and the processes of his
+mind were always more orderly than those of his brilliant and irregular
+senior. There is little doubt (I think) as to which of the two should
+rank higher in the history of English fiction, where fineness of Art
+surely counts for something. Mr. Hardy is a great novelist; whereas to
+adapt a phrase that Arnold applied to Emerson, I should say that Mr.
+Meredith was not a great novelist; he was a great man who wrote novels.
+
+Immediately after the publication of _Desperate Remedies_, which seemed
+to teach him, as _Endymion_ taught Keats, the highest mysteries of his
+art, Mr. Hardy entered upon a period of brilliant and splendid
+production. In three successive years, 1872, 1873, and 1874, he produced
+three masterpieces--_Under the Greenwood Tree_, _A Pair of Blue Eyes_,
+and _Far from the Madding Crowd_; followed four years later by what is,
+perhaps, his greatest contribution to literature, _The Return of the
+Native_. Even in literary careers that last a long time, there seem to
+be golden days when the inspiration is unbalked by obstacles. It is
+interesting to contemplate the lengthy row of Scott's novels, and then
+to remember that _The Heart of Midlothian_, _The Bride of Lammermoor_
+and _Ivanhoe_ were published in three successive years; to recall that
+the same brief span covered in George Eliot's work the production of
+_Scenes of Clerical Life_, _Adam Bede_, and _The Mill on the Floss_; and
+one has only to compare what Mr. Kipling accomplished in 1888, 1889, and
+1890 with any other triennial, to discover when he had what the
+Methodists call "liberty." Mr. Hardy's career as a writer has covered
+about forty years; omitting his collections of short tales, he has
+written fourteen novels; from 1870 to 1880, inclusive, seven appeared;
+from 1881 to 1891, five; from 1892 to 1902, two; since 1897 he has
+published no novels at all. With that singular and unfortunate
+perversity which makes authors proudest of their lamest offspring, Mr.
+Hardy has apparently abandoned the novel for poetry and the poetic
+drama. I suspect that praise of his verse is sweeter to him than praise
+of his fiction; but, although his poems are interesting for their ideas,
+and although we all like the huge _Dynasts_ better than we did when we
+first saw it, it is a great pity from the economic point of view that
+the one man who can write novels better than anybody else in the same
+language should deliberately choose to write something else in which he
+is at his very best only second rate. The world suffers the same kind of
+economic loss (less only in degree) that it suffered when Milton spent
+twenty years of his life in writing prose; and when Tolstoi forsook
+novels for theology.
+
+It is probable that one reason why Mr. Hardy quit novel-writing was the
+hostile reception that greeted _Jude the Obscure_. Every great author,
+except Tennyson, has been able to endure adverse criticism, whether he
+hits back, like Pope and Byron, or whether he proceeds on his way in
+silence. But no one has ever enjoyed or ever will enjoy
+misrepresentation; and there is no doubt that the writer of _Jude_ felt
+that he had been cruelly misunderstood. It is, I think, the worst novel
+he has ever written, both from the moral and from the artistic point of
+view; but the novelist was just as sincere in his intention as when he
+wrote the earlier books. The difficulty is that something of the same
+change had taken place in his work that is so noticeable in that of
+Bjoernson; he had ceased to be a pure artist and had become a
+propagandist. The fault that marred the splendid novel _Tess of the
+D'Urbervilles_ ruined _Jude the Obscure_. When Mr. Hardy wrote on the
+title-page of _Tess_ the words, "A Pure Woman Faithfully Presented," he
+issued defiantly the name of a thesis which the story (great, in spite
+of this) was intended to defend. To a certain extent, his interest in
+the argument blinded his artistic sense; otherwise he would never have
+committed the error of hanging his heroine. The mere hanging of a
+heroine may not be in itself an artistic blunder, for Shakespeare hanged
+Cordelia. But Mr. Hardy executed Tess because he was bound to see his
+thesis through. In the prefaces to subsequent editions the author turned
+on his critics, calling them "sworn discouragers of effort," a phrase
+that no doubt some of them deserved; and then, like many another man who
+believes in himself, he punished both critics and the public in the
+Rehoboam method by issuing _Jude the Obscure_. Instead of being a
+masterpiece of despair, like _The Return of the Native_, this book is a
+shriek of rage. Pessimism, which had been a noble ground quality of his
+earlier writings, is in _Jude_ merely hysterical and wholly
+unconvincing. The author takes obvious pains to make things come out
+wrong; as in melodramas and childish romances, the law of causation is
+suspended in the interest of the hero's welfare. Animalism, which had
+partially disfigured _Tess_, became gross and revolting in _Jude_; and
+the representation of marriage and the relations between men and women,
+instead of being a picture of life, resembled a caricature. It is a
+matter of sincere regret that Mr. Hardy has stopped novel-writing, but
+we want no more _Judes_. Didactic pessimism is not good for the novel.
+
+_The Well-Beloved_, published in 1897, but really a revision of an
+earlier tale, is in a way a triumph of Art. The plot is simply absurd,
+almost as whimsical as anything in _Alice in Wonderland_. A man proposes
+to a young girl and is rejected; when her daughter is grown, he proposes
+to the representative of the second generation, and with the same ill
+fortune. When _her_ daughter reaches maturity, he tries the third woman
+in line and without success. His perseverance was equalled only by his
+bad luck, as so often happens in Mr. Hardy's stories. And yet, with a
+plot that would wreck any other novelist, the author constructed a
+powerful and beautifully written novel. It is as though the architect
+had taken a wretched plan and yet somehow contrived to erect on its
+false lines a handsome building. The book has naturally added nothing to
+his reputation, but as a _tour de force_ it is hard to surpass.
+
+It is pleasant to remember that a man's opinion of his own work has
+nothing to do with its final success and that his best creations cannot
+be injured by his worst. Tolstoi may be ashamed of having written _Anna
+Karenina_, and may insist that his sociological tracts are superior
+productions, but we know better; and rejoice in his powerlessness to
+efface his own masterpieces. We may honestly think that we should be
+ashamed to put our own names to such stuff as _Little Dorrit_, but that
+does not prevent us from admiring the splendid genius that produced
+_David Copperfield_ and _Great Expectations_. Mr. Hardy may believe that
+_Jude the Obscure_ represents his zenith as a novelist, and that his
+poems are still greater literature; but one reading of _Jude_ suffices,
+while we never tire of rereading _Far from the Madding Crowd_ and _The
+Return of the Native_. Probably no publisher's announcement in the world
+to-day would cause more pleasure to English-speaking people than the
+announcement that Thomas Hardy was at work on a Wessex novel with
+characters of the familiar kind.
+
+For _The Dynasts_, which covers the map of Europe, transcends the sky,
+and deals with world-conquerors, is not nearly so great a world-drama as
+_A Pair of Blue Eyes_, that is circumscribed in a small corner of a
+small island, and treats exclusively of a little group of commonplace
+persons. Literature deals with a constant--human nature, which is the
+same in Wessex as in Vienna. As the late Mr. Clyde Fitch used to say, it
+is not the great writers that have great things happen to them; the
+great things happen to the ordinary people they portray. Mr. Hardy
+selected a few of the southwestern counties of England as the stage for
+his prose dramas; to this locality he for the first time, in _Far from
+the Madding Crowd_, gave the name Wessex, a name now wholly fictitious,
+but which his creative imagination has made so real that it is
+constantly and seriously spoken of as though it were English geography.
+In these smiling valleys and quiet rural scenes, "while the earth keeps
+up her terrible composure," the farmers and milkmaids hold us spellbound
+as they struggle in awful passion. The author of the drama stands aloof,
+making no effort to guide his characters from temptation, folly, and
+disaster, and offering no explanation to the spectators, who are
+thrilled with pity and fear. But one feels that he loves and hates his
+children as we do, and that he correctly gauges their moral value. The
+very narrowness of the scene increases the intensity of the play. The
+rustic cackle of his bourg drowns the murmur of the world.
+
+Mr. Hardy's knowledge of and sympathy with nature is of course obvious
+to all readers, but it is none the less impressive as we once more open
+books that we have read many times. There are incidentally few novelists
+who repay one so richly for repeated perusals. He seems as inexhaustible
+as nature herself, and he grows stale no faster than the repetition of
+the seasons. It is perhaps rather curious that a man who finds nature so
+absolutely inexorable and indifferent to human suffering should love her
+so well. But every man must love something greater than himself, and as
+Mr. Hardy had no God, he has drawn close to the world of trees, plains,
+and rivers. His intimacy with nature is almost uncanny. Nature is not
+merely a background in his stories, it is often an active agent. There
+are striking characters in _The Return of the Native_, but the greatest
+character in the book is Egdon Heath. The opening chapter, which gives
+the famous picture of the Heath, is like an overture to a great
+music-drama. The _Heath-motif_ is repeated again and again in the story.
+It has a personality of its own, and affects the fortunes and the hearts
+of all human beings who dwell in its proximity. If one stands to-day on
+the edge of this Heath at the twilight hour, just at the moment when
+Darkness is conquering Light--the moment chosen by Mr. Hardy for the
+first chapter--one realises its significance and its possibilities. In
+_Tess of the D'Urbervilles_ the intercourse between man and nature is
+set forth with amazing power. The different seasons act as chorus to the
+human tragedy. In _The Woodlanders_ the trees seem like separate
+individualities. To me a tree has become a different thing since I first
+read this particular novel.
+
+Even before he took up the study of architecture, Mr. Hardy's
+unconscious training as a novelist began. When he was a small boy, the
+Dorchester girls found him useful in a way that recalls the services of
+that reliable child, Samuel Richardson. These village maids, in their
+various love-affairs, which necessitated a large amount of private
+correspondence, employed young Hardy as amanuensis. He did not, like his
+great predecessor, compose their epistles; but he held the pen, and
+faithfully recorded the inspiration of Love, as it flowed warm from the
+lips of passionate youth. In this manner, the almost sexless boy was
+enabled to look clear-eyed into the very heart of palpitating young
+womanhood, and to express accurately its most gentle and most stormy
+emotions; just as the white voice of a choir-child repeats with
+precision the thrilling notes of religious passion. These early
+experiences were undoubtedly of the highest value in later years;
+indeed, as the boy grew a little older, it is probable that the
+impression deepened. Mr. Hardy is fond of depicting the vague,
+half-conscious longing of a boy to be near a beautiful woman; everyone
+will remember the contract between Eustacia and her youthful admirer, by
+which he was to hold her hand for a stipulated number of minutes. Mr.
+Hardy's women are full of tenderness and full of caprice; and whatever
+feminine readers may think of them, they are usually irresistible to the
+masculine mind. It has been said, indeed, that he is primarily a man's
+novelist, as Mrs. Ward is perhaps a woman's; he does not represent his
+women as marvels of intellectual splendour, or in queenly domination
+over the society in which they move. They are more apt to be the
+victims of their own affectionate hearts. One female reader, exasperated
+at this succession of portraits, wrote on the margin of one of Mr.
+Hardy's novels that she took from a circulating library, "Oh, how I
+_hate_ Thomas Hardy!" This is an interesting gloss, even if we do not
+add meanly that it bears witness to the truth of the picture. Elfride,
+Bathsheba, Eustacia, Lady Constantine, Marty South, and Tess are of
+varied social rank and wealth; but they are all alike in humble
+prostration before the man they love. Mr. Hardy takes particular
+pleasure in representing them as swayed by sudden and constantly
+changing caprices; one has only to recall the charming Bathsheba
+Everdene, and her various attitudes toward the three men who admire
+her--Troy, Boldwood, and Gabriel Oak. Mr. Hardy's heroines change their
+minds oftener than they change their clothes; but in whatever material
+or mental presentment, they never lack attraction. And they all resemble
+their maker in one respect; at heart every one of them is a Pagan. They
+vary greatly in constancy and in general strength of character; but it
+is human passion, and not religion, that is the mainspring of their
+lives. He has never drawn a truly spiritual woman, like Browning's
+Pompilia.
+
+His best men, from the moral point of view, are closest to the soil.
+Gabriel Oak, in _Far from the Madding Crowd_, and Venn, in _The Return
+of the Native_, are, on the whole, his noblest characters. Oak is a
+shepherd and Venn is a reddleman; their sincerity, charity, and fine
+sense of honour have never been injured by what is called polite
+society. And Mr. Hardy, the stingiest author toward his characters, has
+not entirely withheld reward from these two. Henry Knight and Angel
+Clare, who have whatever advantages civilisation is supposed to give,
+are certainly not villains; they are men of the loftiest ideals; but if
+each had been a deliberate black-hearted villain, he could not have
+treated the innocent woman who loved him with more ugly cruelty.
+Compared with Oak and Venn, this precious pair of prigs are seen to have
+only the righteousness of the Scribes and Pharisees; a righteousness
+that is of little help in the cruel emergencies of life. Along with them
+must stand Clym Yeobright, another slave to moral theory, who quite
+naturally ends his days as an itinerant preacher. The real villains in
+Mr. Hardy's novels, Sergeant Troy, young Dare, and Alec D'Urberville,
+seem the least natural and the most machine-made of all his characters.
+
+Mr. Hardy's pessimism is a picturesque and splendid contribution to
+modern fiction. We should be as grateful for it in this field as we are
+to Schopenhauer in the domain of metaphysics. I am no pessimist myself,
+but I had rather read Schopenhauer than all the rest of the
+philosophers put together, Plato alone excepted. The pessimism of Mr.
+Hardy resembles that of Schopenhauer in being absolutely thorough and
+absolutely candid; it makes the world as darkly superb and as terribly
+interesting as a Greek drama. It is wholly worth while to get this point
+of view; and if in practical life one does not really believe in it, it
+is capable of yielding much pleasure. After finishing one of Mr. Hardy's
+novels, one has all the delight of waking from an impressive but
+horrible dream, and feeling through the dissolving vision the real
+friendliness of the good old earth. It is like coming home from an
+adequate performance of _King Lear_, which we would not have missed for
+anything. There are so many make-believe pessimists, so many whose
+pessimism is a sham and a pose, which will not stand for a moment in a
+real crisis, that we cannot withhold admiration for such pessimism as
+Mr. Hardy's, which is fundamental and sincere. To him the Christian
+religion and what we call the grace of God have not the slightest shade
+of meaning; he is as absolute a Pagan as though he had written four
+thousand years before Christ. This is something almost refreshing,
+because it is so entirely different from the hypocrisy and cant, the
+pretence of pessimism, so familiar to us in the works of modern writers;
+and so inconsistent with their daily life. Mr. Hardy's pessimism is the
+one deep-seated conviction of his whole intellectual process.
+
+I once saw a print of a cartoon drawn by a contemporary Dresden artist,
+Herr Sascha Schneider. It was called "The Helplessness of Man against
+Destiny." We see a quite naked man, standing with his back to us; his
+head is bowed in hopeless resignation; heavy manacles are about his
+wrists, to which chains are attached, that lead to some fastening in the
+ground. Directly before him, with hideous hands, that now almost
+entirely surround the little circle where he stands in dejection, crawls
+flatly toward him a prodigious, shapeless monster, with his horrid
+narrow eyes fixed on his defenceless human prey. And the man is so
+conscious of his tether, that even in the very presence of the
+unspeakably awful object, _the chains hang loose_! He may have tried
+them once, but he has since given up. The monster is Destiny; and the
+real meaning of the picture is seen in the eyes, nose, and mouth of the
+loathsome beast. There is not only no sympathy and no intelligence
+there; there is an expression far more terrible than the evident lust to
+devour; there is plainly the _sense of humour_ shown on this hideous
+face. The contrast between the limitless strength of the monster and the
+utter weakness of the man, flavours the stupidity of Destiny with the
+zest of humour.
+
+Now this is a correct picture of life as Mr. Hardy sees it. His God is a
+kind of insane child, who cackles foolishly as he destroys the most
+precious objects. Some years ago I met a man entirely blind. He said
+that early in life he had lost the sight of one eye by an accident; and
+that years later, as he held a little child on his lap, the infant, in
+rare good humour, playfully poked the point of a pair of scissors into
+the other, thus destroying his sight for ever. So long an interval had
+elapsed since this second and final catastrophe, that the man spoke of
+it without the slightest excitement or resentment. The child with the
+scissors might well represent Hardy's conception of God. Destiny is
+whimsical, rather than definitely malicious; for Destiny has not
+sufficient intelligence even to be systematically bad. We smile at
+Caliban's natural theology, as he composes his treatise on Setebos; but
+his God is the same who disposes of man's proposals in the stories of
+our novelist.
+
+    "In which feat, if his leg snapped, brittle clay,
+     And he lay stupid-like,--why, I should laugh;
+     And if he, spying me, should fall to weep,
+     Beseech me to be good, repair his wrong,
+     Bid his poor leg smart less or grow again,--
+     Well, as the chance were, this might take or else
+     Not take my fancy....
+     'Thinketh, such shows nor right nor wrong in Him,
+     Nor kind, nor cruel: He is strong and Lord."
+
+Mr. Hardy believes that, morally, men and women are immensely superior
+to God; for all the good qualities that we attribute to Him in prayer
+are human, not divine. He in his loneliness is totally devoid of the
+sense of right and wrong, and knows neither justice nor mercy. His poem
+_New Year's Eve_[3] clearly expresses his theology.
+
+[3] See Appendix.
+
+Mr. Hardy's pessimism is not in the least personal, nor has it risen
+from any sorrow or disappointment in his own life. It is both
+philosophic and temperamental. He cannot see nature in any other way. To
+venture a guess, I think his pessimism is mainly caused by his deep,
+manly tenderness for all forms of human and animal life and by an almost
+abnormal sympathy. His intense love for bird and beast is well known;
+many a stray cat and hurt dog have found in him a protector and a
+refuge. He firmly believes that the sport of shooting is wicked, and he
+has repeatedly joined in practical measures to waken the public
+conscience on this subject. As a spectator of human history, he sees
+life as a vast tragedy, with men and women emerging from nothingness,
+suffering acute physical and mental sorrow, and then passing into
+nothingness again. To his sympathetic mind, the creed of optimism is a
+ribald insult to the pain of humanity and devout piety merely absurd. To
+hear these suffering men and women utter prayers of devotion and sing
+hymns of adoration to the Power whence comes all their anguish is to him
+a veritable abdication of reason and common sense. God simply does not
+deserve it, and he for one will have the courage to say so. He will not
+stand by and see humanity submit so tamely to so heartless a tyrant.
+For, although Mr. Hardy is a pessimist, he has not the least tincture of
+cynicism. If one analyses his novels carefully, one will see that he
+seldom shows scorn for his characters; his contempt is almost
+exclusively devoted to God. Sometimes the evil fate that his characters
+suffer is caused by the very composition of their mind, as is seen in _A
+Pair of Blue Eyes_; again it is no positive human agency, but rather an
+AEschylean conception of hidden forces, as in _The Return of the Native_;
+but in neither case is humanity to blame.
+
+This pessimism has one curious effect that adds greatly to the reader's
+interest when he takes up an hitherto unread novel by our author. The
+majority of works of fiction end happily; indeed, many are so badly
+written that any ending cannot be considered unfortunate. But with most
+novelists we have a sense of security. We know that, no matter what
+difficulties the hero and heroine may encounter, the unseen hand of
+their maker will guide them eventually to paths of pleasantness and
+peace. Mr. Hardy inspires no such confidence. In reading Trollope, one
+smiles at a cloud of danger, knowing it will soon pass over; but after
+reading _A Pair of Blue Eyes_, or _Tess_, one follows the fortunes of
+young Somerset in _A Laodicean_ with constant fluctuation of faint hope
+and real terror; for we know that with Mr. Hardy the worst may happen at
+any moment.
+
+However dark may be his conception of life, Mr. Hardy's sense of humour
+is unexcelled by his contemporaries in its subtlety of feeling and charm
+of expression. His rustics, who have long received and deserved the
+epithet "Shakespearian," arouse in every reader harmless and wholesome
+delight. The shadow of the tragedy lifts in these wonderful pages, for
+Mr. Hardy's laughter reminds one of what Carlyle said of Shakespeare's:
+it is like sunshine on the deep sea. The childlike sincerity of these
+shepherd farmers, the candour of their repartee and their appraisal of
+gentle-folk are as irresistible as their patience and equable temper.
+Everyone in the community seems to find his proper mental and moral
+level. And their infrequent fits of irritation are as pleasant as their
+more solemn moods. We can all sympathise (I hope) with the despair of
+Joseph Poorgrass: "I was sitting at home looking for Ephesians and says
+I to myself, 'Tis nothing but Corinthians and Thessalonians in this
+danged Testament!"
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+WILLIAM DEAN HOWELLS
+
+
+Born in a little village in Ohio over seventy years ago, and growing up
+with small Latin and less Greek, Mr. Howells may fairly be called a
+self-educated man. Just why the epithet "self-made" should be applied to
+those non-college-graduates who succeed in business, and withheld from
+those who succeed in poetry and fiction, seems not entirely clear.
+Perhaps it is tacitly assumed that those who become captains of industry
+achieve prominence without divine assistance; whereas men of letters,
+with or without early advantages, and whether grateful or not, have
+unconscious communication with hidden forces. Be this as it may, the boy
+Howells had little schooling and no college. All the public institutions
+in the world, however, are but a poor makeshift in the absence of good
+home training; and the future novelist's father was the right sort of
+man and had the right sort of occupation to stimulate a clever and
+ambitious son. The elder Howells was the editor of a country newspaper,
+which, like a country doctor, makes up in variety of information what it
+loses in spread of influence. The boy was a compositor before he was a
+composer, as plenty of literary men since Richardson have been; he
+helped to set up lyrics, news items, local gossip, the funny column, and
+patent medicine advertisements. From mechanical he passed to original
+work, both in his father's office and in other sanctums about the state;
+sometimes acting not only as contributor, but "moulding public opinion"
+from the editor's chair. And indeed he has never entirely stepped out of
+the editorial role. During an amazingly busy life as novelist,
+dramatist, poet, and foreign diplomat, Mr. Howells has acted as
+editorial writer on the _Nation_, the _Atlantic_, the _Cosmopolitan
+Magazine_, and _Harper's Monthly_. I think he would sometimes be
+appalled at the prodigious amount of merely "timely" articles that he
+has written, were it not for the fact that during his long career he has
+never published a single line of which he need feel ashamed.
+
+Type-setters and printers are commonly men of ideas, who have
+interesting minds, and are good to talk with. Mr. Howells was certainly
+no exception to the rule, and to the foundation of his early education
+as a compositor and journalist he added four years of study of the
+Italian language and literature in the pleasant environment of Venice.
+He has always been a man of peace; and it is interesting to remember
+that during the four years of tumultuous and bloody civil war, Mr.
+Howells was serving his country as a United States Consul in Italy, and
+at the same time preparing to add to the kind of fame she most sorely
+needs. The "woman-country" never meant to him what it signified to
+Browning; but it has always been an inspiration, and he would have been
+a different person without this foreign influence. Besides some critical
+and scholarly works on Italian literature, much of his subsequent
+writing has been done beyond the Alps, and the plot of one of his
+foremost novels develops on the streets of Florence. And in another and
+wholly delightful story, we have the keen pleasure of seeing Italian
+life and society through the eyes of Lydia Blood.
+
+He formally began a literary career by the composition of a volume of
+poems, as Blackmore, Hardy, Meredith, and many other novelists have seen
+fit to do. He is not widely known as a poet to-day, though all his life
+he has written more or less verse without achieving distinction; for he
+is essentially a _prosateur_. In 1872, twelve years after the appearance
+of his book of poems, came his first successful novel, _Their Wedding
+Journey_. This story is written in the style that is responsible for
+its author's fame and popularity; it is thoroughly typical of the whole
+first part of his novel-production. It has that quiet stingless humour,
+clever dialogue, and wholesome charm, that all readers of Mr. Howells
+associate with his name. In other words, it is a clear manifestation of
+his own personality. Now as to the permanent value and final place in
+literature of these American novels, critics may differ; but there can
+be only one opinion of the man who wrote them.
+
+The personality of Mr. Howells, as shown both in his objective novels
+and in his subjective literary confessions, is one that irresistibly
+commands our highest respect and our warmest affection. A simple,
+democratic, unaffected, modest, kindly, humorous, healthy soul, with a
+rare combination of rugged virility and extreme refinement. It is
+exceedingly fortunate for America that such a man has for so many years
+by common consent, at home and abroad, been regarded as the Dean of
+American Letters. He has had more influence on the output of fiction in
+America than any other living man. This influence has been entirely
+wholesome, from the standpoint of both morals and Art. He has
+consistently stood for Reticent Realism. He has ridiculed what he is
+fond of calling "romantic rot," and his own novels have been a silent
+but emphatic protest against "mentioning the unmentionable." Every now
+and then there has risen a violent revolt against his leadership, the
+latest outspoken attack coming from a novelist of distinction, Gertrude
+Atherton. In the year 1907 she relieved her mind by declaring that Mr.
+Howells has been and is a writer for boarding-school misses; that he has
+never penetrated deeply into life; and that not only has his own
+timidity prevented him from courageously revealing the hearts of men and
+women, but that his position of power and influence has cast a blight on
+American fiction. Thanks to him, she insists, American novels are pale
+and colourless productions, and are known the world over for their
+tameness and insipidity. Mrs. Atherton has been supported in this revolt
+by many very young literary aspirants, who lack her wisdom and her
+experience, and whose chief dislike of Mr. Howells, when finally
+analysed, seems to be directed against his intense ethical earnestness.
+For, at heart, Mr. Howells resembles most Anglo-Saxon novelists in being
+a moralist.
+
+It is true that American novelists and playwrights are at one great
+disadvantage as compared with contemporary Continental writers. Owing to
+the public conscience, they are compelled to work in a limited field.
+The things that we leave to medical specialists and to alienists are
+staple subject-matter in high-class French and German fiction. In a
+European dictionary there is no such word as "reserve." French writers
+like Brieux protest that American conceptions of French morals are based
+on the reading of French books whose authors have no standing in Paris,
+and whose very names are unknown to their countrymen. But this protest
+fades before facts. The facts are that Parisian novelists and dramatists
+of the highest literary and social distinction, who are awarded national
+prizes, admitted to the French Academy, and who receive all sorts of
+public honours, write and publish books, which, if produced in the
+United States by an American, would bar him from the houses and from the
+society of many decent people, and might cause his arrest. At any rate,
+he would be regarded as a criminal rather than as a hero. I have in mind
+plays by Donnay, recently elected to the French Academy; plays by Capus,
+who stands high in public regard; novels by Regnier, who has received
+all sorts of honours. These men are certainly not fourth- and
+fifth-class writers; they are thoroughly representative of Parisian
+literary taste. Regnier has not hesitated to write, and the editors have
+not hesitated to accept, for the periodical _L'Illustration_, which goes
+into family circles everywhere, a novel that could not possibly be
+published in any respectable magazine in America. I do not say that
+Americans are one peg higher in morality than Frenchmen; it may be that
+we are hypocrites, and that the French are models of virtue; but the
+difference in moral tone between the average American play or novel and
+that produced in Paris is simply enormous.
+
+The modern German novel is no better than the French. Last night I
+finished reading Sudermann's long and powerful story, _Das hohe Lied_. I
+could not help thinking how entirely different it is in its
+subject-matter, in its characters, in its scenes, and in its atmosphere,
+from the average American novel. Now of course the subject that arouses
+the most instant interest from all classes of people, both young and
+old, innocent and guilty, is the subject of sex. A large number of
+modern successful French and German novels and plays contain no other
+matter of any real importance--and would be intolerably dull were it not
+for their dealing with sexual crimes. The Continental writer is barred
+by no restraint; when he has nothing to say, as is very often the case,
+he simply plays his trump card. The American, however, is not permitted
+to penetrate beyond the bounds of decency; which shuts him off from the
+chief field where European writers dwell. He must somehow make his novel
+interesting to his readers, just as a man is expected to make himself
+interesting in social conversation, without recourse to pruriency or
+obscenity.
+
+Leaving out of debate for a moment the moral aspect of Art, is it
+necessarily true that novels which plunge freely into sex questions are
+a more faithful representation of life than those that observe the
+limits of good taste? I think not. The men and women in many Continental
+stories have apparently nothing to do except to gratify their passions.
+All the thousand and one details that make up the daily routine of the
+average person are sacrificed to emphasise one thing; but this, even in
+most degraded Sybarites, would be only a part of their actual activity.
+I believe that _A Modern Instance_ is just as true to life as _Bel-Ami_.
+It would really be a misfortune if Mrs. Atherton could have her way; for
+then American novelists would copy the faults of European writers
+instead of their virtues. The reason why French plays and French novels
+are generally superior to American is not because they are indecent; and
+we shall never raise our standard merely by copying foreign immorality.
+The superiority of the French is an intellectual and artistic
+superiority; they excel us in literary style. If we are to imitate them,
+let us imitate their virtues and not their defects, even though the task
+in this case be infinitely more difficult.
+
+And, granting what Mrs. Atherton says, that the reticence of American
+fiction is owing largely to the influence of Mr. Howells, have we not
+every reason to be grateful to him? Has not the modern novel a
+tremendous influence in education, and do we really wish to see young
+men and women, boys and girls, reading stories that deal mainly with
+sex? Is it well that they should abandon Dickens, Thackeray, and
+Stevenson, for the novel in vogue on the Continent? It is often said
+that French fiction is intended only for seasoned readers, and is
+carefully kept from youth. But this is gammon, and should deceive only
+the grossly ignorant. As if anything nowadays could be kept from youth!
+With the exception of girls who are very strictly brought up, young
+people in Europe have the utmost freedom in reading. In one of Regnier's
+novels, which purports to be autobiographical, the favourite bedside
+book of the boy in his teens is _Mademoiselle de Maupin_. In a secret
+ballot vote recently taken by a Russian periodical, to discover who are
+the most popular novelists with high-school boys and girls in Russia, it
+appeared that of all foreign writers Guy de Maupassant stood first. Is
+this really a desirable state of affairs? Suppose it be true, as it
+probably is, that the average Russian, German, or French boy of
+seventeen is intellectually more mature than his English or American
+contemporary--are we willing to make the physical and moral sacrifice
+for the merely mental advance? Is it not better that our boys should be
+playing football and reading _Treasure Island_, than that they should
+be spending their leisure hours in the manner described by Regnier?
+
+Mr. Howells's creed in Art is perhaps more open to criticism than his
+creed in Ethics. His artistic creed is narrow, strict, and definite. He
+has expressed it in his essays, and exemplified it in his novels. His
+two doctrinal works, _Criticism and Fiction_, and _My Literary
+Passions_, resemble Zola's _Le Roman Experimental_ in dogmatic
+limitation. The creed of Mr. Howells is realism, which he has not only
+faithfully followed in his creative work, but which he uses as a
+standard by which to measure the value of other novelists, both living
+and dead. As genius always refuses to be measured by any standard, and
+usually defies classification, Mr. Howells's literary estimates of other
+men's work are far more valuable as self-revelation than as adequate
+appraisal. Indeed, some of his criticisms seem bizarre. Where works of
+fiction do not run counter to his literary dogmas, he is abundantly
+sympathetic and more than generous; many a struggling young writer has
+cause to bless him for powerful assistance; apparently there has never
+been one grain of envy, jealousy, or meanness in the mind of our
+American dean. But, broadly speaking, Mr. Howells has not the true
+critical mind, which places itself for the moment in the mental
+attitude of the author criticised; he is primarily a creative rather
+than a critical writer. Here he is in curious opposition to his friend
+and contemporary, Henry James. Mr. James is a natural-born critic, one
+of the best America has ever produced. His essay on Balzac was a
+masterpiece. His intellectual power is far more critical than creative;
+as a novelist, he seems quite inferior to Mr. Howells. And his best
+story, the little sketch, _Daisy Miller_, was properly called by its
+author a "study."
+
+Mr. Howells's literary career has two rather definite periods. The break
+was caused largely by the influence of Tolstoi. The earlier novels are
+more purely artistic; they are accurate representations of American
+characters, for the most part joyous in mood, full of genuine humour,
+and natural charm. A story absolutely expressive of the author as we
+used to know him is _The Lady of the Aroostook_. As a sympathetic and
+delightful portrayal of a New England country girl, this book is one of
+his best productions. The voyage across the Atlantic; the surprise
+caused by Lydia's name and appearance, and homely conversation. "I want
+to know!" cried Lydia. The second surprise caused by her splendid
+singing voice. The third surprise caused to the sophisticated young
+gentleman by discovering that he was in love with her. His rapture at
+his glorious good-fortune in saving the drunken wretch from drowning,
+thus acting as hero before his lady's eyes; her virginal experiences in
+Italy; the final happy consummation--all this is in Mr. Howells's best
+vein, the Howells of thirty years ago. The story is full of observation,
+cerebration, and human affection. As Professor Beers has remarked, if
+Mr. Howells knows his countrymen no more intimately than does Henry
+James, at least he loves them better. This charming novel was rapidly
+followed in the next few years by a succession of books that are at once
+good to read, and of permanent value as reflections of American life,
+manners, and morals. These were _A Modern Instance_, _A Woman's Reason_,
+_The Rise of Silas Lapham_, and _Indian Summer_; making a literary
+harvest of which not only their author, but all Americans, have reason
+to be justly proud.
+
+Somewhere along in the eighties Mr. Howells came fully within the grasp
+of the mighty influence of Tolstoi, an influence, which, no matter how
+beneficial in certain ways, has not been an unmixed blessing on his
+foreign disciples. What the American owes to the great Russian, and how
+warm is his gratitude therefor, any one may see for himself by reading
+_My Literary Passions_. It is indeed difficult to praise the maker of
+_Anna Karenina_ too highly; but nobody wanted Mr. Howells to become a
+lesser Tolstoi. When we wish to read Tolstoi, we know where to find
+him; we wish Mr. Howells to remain his own self, shrewdly observant, and
+kindly humorous. The latter novels of the American show the same kind of
+change that took place in Bjoernson, that has also characterised Bourget;
+it is the partial abandonment of the novel as an art form, and its
+employment as a social, political, or religious tract. Mr. Howells's
+saving sense of humour has kept him from dull extremes; but when _A
+Hazard of New Fortunes_ appeared, we knew that there was more in the
+title than the writer intended; our old friend had put on Saul's armour.
+As has been suggested above, this change was not entirely an individual
+one; it was symptomatic of the development of the modern novel all over
+the world. But in this instance it seemed particularly regrettable. We
+have our fill of strikes and labour troubles in the daily newspaper,
+without going to our novelist for them. With one exception, it is
+probable that not a single one of Mr. Howells's novels published during
+the last twenty years is as good, from the artistic and literary point
+of view, as the admirable work he produced before 1889. The exception is
+_The Kentons_ (1902), in which he returned to his earlier manner, in a
+triumphant way that showed he had not lost his skill. Indeed, there is
+no trace of decay in the other books of his late years; there is merely
+a loss of charm.
+
+I think that _Indian Summer_, despite its immense popularity at the time
+of publication, has never received the high praise it really deserves.
+It is written in a positive glow of artistic creation. I believe that of
+all its author's works, it is the one whose composition he most keenly
+enjoyed. The conversations--always a great feature of his stories--are
+immensely clever; I suspect that as he wrote them he was often agreeably
+surprised at his own inspiration. The three characters, the middle-aged
+man and woman, and the romantic young girl, are admirably set off; no
+one has ever better shown the fact that it is quite possible for one to
+imagine oneself in love when really one is fancy-free. The delicate
+shades of jealousy in the intimate talks between the two women are
+exquisitely done; the experience of the grown woman contrasting finely
+with the imagination of the young girl. The difference between a man of
+forty and a woman of twenty, shown here not in heavy tragedy, but in the
+innumerable, convincing details of daily human intercourse, is finely
+emphasised; and we can feel the great relief of both when the engagement
+tie is broken. This story in its way is a masterpiece; and anyone who
+lacks enthusiasm for its author ought to read it again.
+
+His most powerful novel is probably _A Modern Instance_. This, like many
+American and English fictions, first appeared in serial form--a fact
+that should be known before one indulges in criticism. The old objection
+to this method was that it led the writer to attempt to end each section
+dramatically, leaving the reader with a sharp appetite for more. The
+movement of the narrative, when the book was finally published as a
+whole, resembled a series of jumps. Someone has said, that even so fine
+a novel as _Far from the Madding Crowd_ was a succession of brilliant
+leaps; whether or not this was caused by its original serial printing, I
+do not know. This difficulty would never appear in Mr. Howells, at all
+events; because his stories do not impress us by their special dramatic
+scenes, or supreme moments, but rather by their completeness. The other
+objection, however, has some force here--the fact that details may be
+extended beyond their artistic proportion, in a manner that does not
+militate against the separate instalments, but is seen to mar the book
+as a whole. The logging camp incident in _A Modern Instance_ is
+prolonged to a fault. Proportion is sacrificed to realism. From this
+point of view, it is well to remember that _The Newcomes_ appeared in
+single numbers, whereas _Henry Esmond_ was published originally as a
+complete work.
+
+But this slight defect is more than atoned for by the power shown in the
+depiction of character. This is a study of degeneration, not dealing
+with remote characters in far-off historical situations, but brought
+home to our very doors. One feels that this dreadful fate might happen
+to one's neighbours--might happen to oneself. It seems to me a greater
+book in every way than _Romola_, though I am not prepared to say that
+Mr. Howells is a greater novelist than George Eliot. There is all the
+difference between Tito Melema and Bartley Hubbard that there is between
+a fancy picture and a portrait. Mr. Howells is fond of using
+Shakespearian quotations as titles; witness _The Counterfeit
+Presentment_, _The Undiscovered Country_, _The Quality of Mercy_, and _A
+Modern Instance_. Now the word "modern," as every student of Shakespeare
+knows, means in the poet's works almost the opposite of what it
+signifies to-day. "Full of wise saws and modern instances" is equivalent
+to saying prosaically, "full of sententious proverbs and old, trite
+illustrations." In the Shakespearian sense, Mr. Howells's title might be
+translated "A Familiar Example"--for it is not only a story of modern
+American life, it portrays what is unfortunately an instance all too
+familiar. Bartley Hubbard is the typical representative of the "smart"
+young American. He is not in the least odious when we first make his
+acquaintance. His skill in address and in adaptation to society assure
+his instant popularity; and at heart he is a good fellow, quite unlike
+a designing villain. He would rather do right than do wrong, provided
+both are equally convenient. He simply follows the line of least
+resistance. Nor is he by nature a Bohemian; he loves Marcia, is proud of
+her fresh beauty, and enjoys domestic life. Then he has the fascinating
+quality of true humour. His conversations with his wife, when he is free
+from worry, are exceedingly attractive to the impersonal listener. He is
+just like thousands of clever young American journalists--quick-witted,
+enterprising, energetic, with a sure nose for news; there is, in fact,
+only one thing the matter with Bartley. Although, when life is flowing
+evenly, he does not realise his deficiency, he actually has at heart no
+moral principle, no ethical sense, no honour. The career of such a man
+will depend entirely upon circumstances; because his standard of virtue
+is not where it should be, within his own mind, but without. Like many
+other men, he can resist anything but temptation. Whether he will become
+a good citizen or a blackleg, depends not in the least upon himself, but
+wholly upon the events through which he moves. Had he married exactly
+the right sort of girl, and had some rich uncle left the young couple a
+fortune, it is probable that neither his friends, nor his wife, nor even
+he himself, would have guessed at his capacity for evil. He would have
+remained popular in the community, and died both lamented and
+respected. But the difficulty is that he did not marry wisely, and he
+subsequently became short of cash. Now, as some writer has said, it does
+not matter so much whether a man marries with wisdom or the reverse, nor
+whether he behaves in other emergencies with prudence or folly; what
+really matters is how he behaves himself _after_ the marriage, or after
+any other crisis where he may have chosen foolishly. But Bartley, like
+many other easy-going youths, was no man for adverse circumstances.
+Almost imperceptibly at first his degeneration begins; his handsome
+figure shows a touch of grossness; the refinement in his face becomes
+blurred; drinking ceases to be a pleasure, and becomes a habit.
+Meanwhile, as what he calls his bad luck increases, quarrels with his
+wife become more frequent; try as he will, there is always a sheaf of
+unpaid bills at the end of the month; his home loses its charm. The
+mental and spiritual decline of the man is shown repulsively by his
+physical appearance. No one who has read the book can possibly forget
+his broad back as he sits in the courtroom, and the horrible ring of fat
+that hangs over his collar. The devil has done his work with such
+technique that Bartley as we first see him, and Bartley as we last see
+him, seem to be two utterly different and distinct persons and
+personalities; it is with an irrepressible shudder that we recall the
+time when this coarse, fat sot was a slender, graceful young man, who
+charmed all acquaintances by his ease of manner and winsome
+conversation. And yet, as one looks back over his life, every stage in
+the transition is clear, logical, and wholly natural.
+
+From another point of view this novel is a study of the passion of
+jealousy. No other American novel, so far as I know, has given so
+accurate a picture of the gradual and subtle poisoning produced by this
+emotion, and only one American play,--Clyde Fitch's thoughtful and
+powerful drama, _The Girl with the Green Eyes_. It is curious that
+jealousy, so sinister and terrible in its effects on character, should
+usually appear on the stage and in fiction as comic. It is seldom
+employed as a leading motive in tragedy, though Shakespeare showed its
+possibilities; but one frequently sees it in broad farce. Of all the
+passions, there is none which has less mirth than jealousy. It is
+fundamentally tragic; and in _A Modern Instance_, we see the evil
+transformation it works in Marcia, and its force in accelerating her
+husband's degeneration. Marcia is an example of the wish of Keats--she
+lives a life of sensations rather than of thoughts; and jealousy can be
+conquered only by mental power, never by emotional. Marcia has no
+intellectual resources; her love for her husband is her whole existence.
+She has no more mind than many another American country girl who comes
+home from boarding-school. As one critic has pointed out, "she has not
+yet emerged from the elemental condition of womanhood." Jealousy is, of
+course, an "animal quality," and Marcia, without knowing it, is simply a
+tamed, pretty, affectionate young animal. Her jealousy is entirely
+without foundation, but it causes her the most excruciating torment, and
+constantly widens the breach between herself and the man she loves. If
+she had only married Halleck! She would never have been jealous with
+him. But jealousy is like an ugly weed in a beautiful garden; it exists
+only where there is love. And a girl like Marcia could never have
+returned the love of a stodgy man like Halleck. One cannot help asking
+three vain questions as one contemplates the ruins of her happiness and
+sees the cause. If she had never met Bartley, and had married Halleck,
+would she have been better off? are we to understand that she is finally
+saved by Halleck? and if so, what is the nature of her salvation?
+
+The old sceptical lawyer, Marcia's father, is one of the most convincing
+characters that Mr. Howells has ever drawn. Those who have lived in New
+England know this man, for they have seen him often. He is shrewd,
+silent, practical, undemonstrative, yet his unspoken love for his
+daughter is almost terrible in its intensity, and finally brings him to
+the grave. Although he admires young Bartley's cleverness, he would have
+admired him more had he been less clever. He has a sure instinct against
+the young man from the start, and knows there can be only one outcome of
+such a marriage; because he is better acquainted with the real character
+of husband and wife than they are with themselves. Squire Gaylord is a
+person of whose creation any novelist in the history of fiction might be
+proud.
+
+When _A Modern Instance_ was first published, a contemporary review
+called it "a book that all praise but none like." I imagine that the
+unpleasant sensations it awakens in every reader are like those roused
+by Mr. Barrie's _Sentimental Tommy_. The picture is simply too faithful
+to be agreeable. Everyone beholds his own faults and tendencies clearly
+portrayed, and the result is quite other than reassuring. The book finds
+us all at home. But, as Gogol, the great Russian, used to say, quoting
+an old Slavonic proverb, "We must not blame the mirror if the face looks
+ugly."
+
+It is both instructive and entertaining to try the effect of this novel
+on a representative group of American college undergraduates. Those who
+had lived in New England villages, and were familiar with the scenes
+described, were loud in their praises of the background, and of the
+Gaylord family. One young man remarked--he was at Yale--"I know a young
+journalist who was last year at Harvard, who is going to the devil in
+very much the same way." Another said, with an experience hardly
+consonant with his years, that he had known women just as jealous as
+Marcia. Most of them, however, believed that her jealousy was grossly
+exaggerated; it looks so like folly to those yet untouched by the
+passion of love. Another truthful and modest youth said pathetically, "I
+am too young to appreciate this book." Still another remarked with rare
+lucidity and definiteness of penetration, "In reading this story somehow
+something struck me unfavourably." Minor improbabilities in the novel
+produced the greatest shock--the hot-scotch episode seemed quite
+impossible, and Mr. Howells was thought to be a poor judge of the
+effects of whiskey. But the criticism I enjoyed most came from the
+undergraduate who said in all sincerity, "I think this is a very good
+book for young ladies to read before getting married." So indeed it is.
+
+In the year 1902, by the publication of _The Kentons_, Mr. Howells gave
+us a most delightful surprise. It was like the return of an old friend
+from a far journey. In literature it was as though Bjoernson should
+publish a story like _A Happy Boy_, or as though Mr. Hardy should give
+us a tale like _Under the Greenwood Tree_. _The Kentons_ is a thoroughly
+charming international novel, containing the pleasant adventures of an
+Ohio family on the ocean liner and in Europe, written in the _Aroostook_
+style, sparkling with humour, and rich in sympathy and tenderness.
+Political, social, and ethical problems are conspicuously absent, and
+the only material used by the writer is human nature. This is one of the
+best books he has ever written; it has all the charm of _Their Wedding
+Journey_, plus the wisdom and observation that come only by years. It is
+wholesome, healthy, realistic; a thoroughly representative American
+novel from a master's hand. In a French _roman_, Bittredge would of
+course have been a libertine, and one of the girls ruined by him. In
+_The Kentons_, he is merely _fresh_, and though he causes some trouble,
+everybody in the end is better off for the experience. Mr. Howells seems
+especially to dislike _Frechheit_ in young men, and he has made the
+vulgarity and assurance of Bittredge both offensive and absurd. We have
+too many Bittredges in the United States; and some of them do not lose
+their bittredgidity with advancing years.
+
+The five members of the Kenton family are wonderfully well drawn, and
+are just such people as we fortunately meet every day. The purity and
+sweetness of married and family life are beautifully exemplified here;
+they are exactly what we see in thousands of American homes, and
+constitute the real answer to modern attacks on the conjugal relation.
+The judge and his wife are two companions, growing old together in
+simplicity and innocence, happy in the truest sense--loving each other
+far more in age than in youth, which is perfectly natural in life if not
+in fiction; because every day they become more necessary to each other
+and have common interests extending over many years. The scene in their
+bedroom, as they talk together before slumber, while the old Judge winds
+up his watch, is a veritable triumph of Art.
+
+The younger daughter Lottie is a vivid portrait of the typical American
+high-school girl, slangy, superficial, flirtatious, not quite vulgar,
+and in every emergency with young men fully capable of taking care of
+herself. After a round of joyous, heart-free, and innocent familiarities
+with various youthful admirers, she finally becomes an admirable wife
+and housekeeper. Her sister Ellen is of an opposite temperament, pale,
+slight, and non-athletic. She is entirely different from the Booth
+Tarkington or Richard Harding Davis heroine, and in her purity,
+delicacy, and refinement, takes us back to old-fashioned fiction. As a
+spectator on the steamer says of her, "that pale girl is adorable." In
+her shyness and extraordinary loveliness she reminds us of Turgenev's
+spiritual Lisa. The scene in the night, where her young brother steals
+to her bed and pours into her sympathetic ears all the troubled passion
+and sorrow, all the embarrassment and suffering of his sensitive boy's
+heart, is exceedingly beautiful and tender. He knows _she_ will
+understand. And at last it is Ellen, and not Lottie, who becomes the
+fashionable, aristocratic, New York woman--preserving in her wealthy
+environment all the fruits of the spirit.
+
+Boyne, the small boy, the "kid brother," is a fine illustration of the
+enthusiasm for humanity so characteristic of Mr. Howells. It is
+instructive to compare this little man with the young brother of Daisy
+Miller. Both are at the age most trying to their elders, and both are
+faithfully portrayed; but Randolph C. Miller is made particularly
+obnoxious, even odious, while one cannot help loving Boyne. The
+difference is that one is drawn with the finger of scorn and the other
+with the insight of sympathy. Mr. Howells calls Boyne "a mass of
+helpless sweetness though he did not know it." His romantic love for the
+young queen of Holland and the burning mortification he suffers thereby,
+are sufficiently easy to understand. The contrast between the high
+seriousness with which he takes himself, and the impression he makes on
+others, is something that every man who looks back will remember. As
+the novelist puts it, "He thought he was an iceberg when he was merely
+an ice cream of heroic mould."
+
+_The Kentons_, like some other novels by Mr. Howells, may seem to many
+readers superficial, because it is so largely taken up with the trivial
+details of daily existence. It is really a profound study of life, made
+by an artist who has not only the wisdom of the head, but the deeper
+wisdom of the heart.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+BJOeRNSTJERNE BJOeRNSON
+
+
+For over half a century this intellectual athlete has been one of the
+busiest men in the world. A partisan fighter born and bred, he has been
+active in every political Skandinavian struggle; in religious questions
+he has fought first on one side and then on the other, changing only by
+honest conviction, and hitting with all his might every time; to him the
+word "education" is as a red rag to a bull, for he believes that it has
+been mainly bad, and if people will only listen, he can make it mainly
+good; in a passion of chivalry, he has drawn his pen for the cause of
+Woman, whose "sphere" he hopes to change--the most modern and the most
+popular of all the vain attempts to square the circle; his powerful
+voice has been heard on the lecture platform, not only in his own
+beloved country, but all over Europe and in America; he has served for
+years as Theatre-Director, in the determination to convert the
+playhouse, like everything else he touches, into a vast moral force. In
+addition to all the excitement of a life spent in fighting, his purely
+literary activity has been enormous in quantity and astonishing in
+range. His numerous dramas treat of all possible themes, from the old
+Sagas to modern divorce laws; and after exhausting all earthly material,
+he has boldly advanced into the realm of the supernatural; his splendid
+play, _Beyond Human Power_, holds the boards in most European cities,
+and has exercised a profound influence on modern drama. His novels are
+as different in style and purpose as it is possible for the novels of
+one man to be; and some of them are already classics. A man with such an
+endowment, with such tremendous convictions, with buoyant optimism and
+terrific energy, has made no small stir in the world, and it will be a
+long time before the name of Bjoernstjerne Bjoernson is forgotten.
+
+Had he not possessed, in addition to a fine mind, a magnificent physical
+frame, he would long since have vanished into that spiritual world that
+has interested him so deeply. But he has the physique of a Norse god.
+Many instances of his bodily strength and endurance have been cited; it
+is sufficient to remember that even after his mane of hair had become
+entirely grey he regularly took his bath by standing naked under a
+mountain waterfall. Let that suffice, as one trial of it would for most
+of us. He came honestly by his health and vigour, born as he was on a
+lonely mountain-side in Norway. It was in the winter of 1832 that this
+sturdy baby gave his first cry for freedom, his father being a village
+pastor, whose flock were literally scattered among steep and desolate
+rocks, where the salient feature of the landscape during nine months of
+the year was snow. More than once the good shepherd had to seek and save
+that which was lost. For society, the little boy had a few pet animals
+and the dreams engendered by supreme loneliness. But when he was six
+years old, the father was fortunately called to a pastorate in a
+beautiful valley on the west coast, surrounded by noble and inspiring
+scenery, the effect of which is visibly seen in all his early stories.
+We cannot help comparing this vale of beauty, trailing clouds of glory
+over Bjoernson's boyhood, with the flat, wet, dismal gloom of East
+Prussia, that oppressed so heavily the child Sudermann, and made Dame
+Care look so grey.
+
+At the grammar school, at the high school, and at the university he
+showed little interest in the curriculum, and no particular aptitude for
+study; but before leaving college he had already begun original
+composition, and at the age of twenty-four he published a masterpiece.
+This was the pastoral romance, _Synnoeve Solbakken_, which for sheer
+beauty of style and atmosphere he has never surpassed. For some years
+preceding the date of its appearance there had been a lull in literary
+activity in Norway. Out of this premonitory hush of stillness came a
+beautiful voice, which by the newness and freshness of its tones aroused
+immediate interest. Everybody listened, enchanted by the strange
+harmony. Men saw that a new prophet had arisen in Israel. The absolute
+simplicity of the style, the naivete of the story, the naturalness of
+the characters, the short, passionate sentences like those of the Sagas,
+the lyrically poetic atmosphere, appealed at once to the Norwegian
+heart. Why is it that we are surprised in books and in plays by simple
+language and natural characters? It must be that we are so accustomed to
+literary conventions remote from actual life, that when we behold real
+people and hear natural talk in works of art our first emotion is glad
+astonishment. For the same reason we praise certain persons for
+displaying what we call common sense. Be this as it may, no one believed
+that a pastoral romance could be so vigorous, so fresh, and so true. Of
+all forms of literature, pastoral tales, whether in verse or in prose,
+have been commonly the most artificial and the most insipid; but here
+was the breath of life. I can recommend nothing better for the soul
+weary of the closeness of modern naturalism than a course of reading in
+the early work of Bjoernson.
+
+He followed this initial success with three other beautiful prose
+lyrics--_Arne_, _A Happy Boy_, and _The Fisher Maiden_. These stories
+exhibit the same qualities so strikingly displayed in _Synnoeve
+Solbakken_. In all this artistic production Bjoernson is an
+impressionist, reproducing with absolute fidelity what he saw, both in
+the world of matter and of spirit. We may rely faithfully on the
+correctness of these pictures, whether they portray natural scenery,
+country customs, or peasant character. We inhale Norway. We can smell
+the pines. The nipping and eager air, the dark green resinous
+forests--we feel these as plainly as if we were physically present in
+the Land of the Midnight Sun. The kindly simplicity of the peasants, the
+village ceremonies at weddings and funerals, the cheerful loneliness
+with sheep on mountain pasture, and the subdued but universal note of
+deep rural piety, make one feel as though the whole community were bound
+by gold chains about the feet of God. Bjoernson says, "The church is in
+the foreground of Norwegian peasant life." And indeed everything seems
+to centre around God's acre, and the spire of the meeting-house points
+in the same direction as the stories themselves. Many beautiful passages
+affect us like noble music; our eyes are filled with happy tears.
+
+In view of the strong and ardent personality of the author, it is
+curious that these early romances should be so truly objective. One
+feels his personality in a general way, as one feels that of Turgenev;
+but the young writer separates himself entirely from the course of the
+story; he nowhere interferes. The characters apparently develop without
+his assistance, as the events take place without any manipulation. As a
+work of objective art, _Synnoeve Solbakken_ approaches flawless
+perfection. It has one plot, which travels in one direction--forward.
+The persons are intensely Norwegian, but there their similarity ends.
+Each is individualised. The simplicity of the story is so remarkable
+that to some superficial and unobservant readers it has seemed childish.
+The very acme of Art is so close to nature that it sometimes is mistaken
+for no art at all, like the acting of Garrick or the style of Jane
+Austen. Adverse criticisms are the highest compliments. Language is well
+managed when it expresses profound thoughts in words clear to a child.
+
+The love scenes in this narrative are idyllic; in fact, the whole book
+is an idyl. It seems radiant with sunshine. It is as pure as a mountain
+lake, and as refreshing. And besides the artistic unity of the work,
+that satisfies one's standards so fully, there is an exquisite something
+hard to define; a play of fancy, a veil of poetic beauty lingering over
+the story, that makes us feel when we have closed the book as if we were
+gazing at a clear winter sunset.
+
+Bjoernson has the creative imagination of the true poet. In the wonderful
+prologue to _Arne_ he gives the trees separate personalities, in a
+manner to arouse almost the envy of Thomas Hardy. Indeed, the author of
+_The Woodlanders_ has never felt the trees more intensely than the
+Norwegian novelist. The prose style unconsciously breaks into verse form
+at times, with the natural grace and ease of a singing bird. Not the
+least charming incidents in Bjoernson's romances are the frequent lyrics,
+that spring up like cowslips in a pasture.
+
+    "Punctual as Springtide forth peep they."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The novels in Bjoernson's second period are so totally unlike those we
+have just been considering that if all his work had been published
+anonymously, no one would have ventured to say that the same man had
+written _A Happy Boy_ and _In God's Way_. There came a pause in his
+creative activity. He wrote little imaginative literature, and many
+thought the well of his inspiration had gone dry. Really he was passing
+through a belated _Sturm und Drang_; a tremendous intellectual struggle
+and fermentation had set in, from which he emerged mentally a changed
+man, with a new outfit of opinions and ideas. At nearly the same time
+his great contemporary Tolstoi was also in the Slough of Despond, but he
+climbed out on the other side and set his face towards the Celestial
+City. Bjoernson's floundering ultimately carried him in precisely the
+opposite direction. While Tolstoi was studying the New Testament,
+Bjoernson applied himself to Darwin, Mill, and Spencer, and became
+completely converted from the Christianity of his youth. Many minds
+would have been temporarily paralysed by such a result, and would
+finally have become either pessimistic or coldly critical. But Bjoernson
+simply could not endure to be a gloomy, cynical spectator of life, like
+his countryman, Ibsen, any more than he could leave his native land and
+calmly view its nakedness from the comfortable environment of Munich or
+Rome. Bjoernson has the sort of intellect that cannot remain in
+equilibrium. He was ever a fighter, and cannot live without something to
+fight for. The natural optimism of his temperament, so opposed in every
+way to the blank despair of Ibsen, made him see in his new views the way
+of salvation. He is just as sure he is right now as he was when he held
+opinions exactly the contrary. With joyful ardour he became the champion
+and propagandist of democracy in politics and of free thought in
+religion; apparently adopting Spencer's saying, "To the true reformer no
+institution is sacred, no belief above criticism." For the word
+"reformer" precisely describes Bjoernson; like the chief characters in
+his later novels, he is an apostle of reform, zealous, tireless, and
+tiresome.
+
+Lowell, in his fine essay on Gray, said that one reason why the
+eighteenth century was so comfortable was that "responsibility for the
+universe had not yet been invented." Now Bjoernson feels this
+responsibility with all the strength of his nature, and however
+admirable it may be as a moral quality, it has vitiated his artistic
+career. As he renounced Christianity for agnosticism, so he renounced
+romance for realism. The novels written since 1875 are not only unlike
+his early pastoral romances in literary style; they are totally
+different productions in tone, in spirit, and in intention. And, from
+the point of view of art, they are, in my opinion, as inferior to the
+work of his youth as Hawthorne's campaign _Life of Pierce_ is inferior
+to _The Scarlet Letter_. In every way Bjoernson is farther off from
+heaven than when he was a boy.
+
+In addition to many short sketches, his later period includes three
+realistic novels. These are: _Flags Are Flying in Town and Harbour_,
+translated into English with the title, _The Heritage of the Kurts_, for
+it is a study in heredity; _In God's Way_,[4] loudly proclaimed as his
+masterpiece, and _Mary_. The first two originally attracted more
+attention abroad than at home. The _Flags_ hung idly in Norway, and the
+orthodox were not anxious to get in God's way. But the second book
+produced considerable excitement in England, which finally reacted in
+Christiania and Copenhagen; it is still hotly discussed. In these three
+novels the author has stepped out of the role of artist and become a
+kind of professor of pedagogy, his speciality being the education of
+women. In _Flags_ the principal part of the story is taken up with a
+girls' school, which gives the novelist an opportunity to include a
+confused study of heredity, and to air all sorts of educational theory.
+The chief one appears to be that in the curriculum for young girls the
+"major" should be physiology. Hygiene, which so many bewildered persons
+are accepting just now in lieu of the Gospel, plays a heavy part in
+Bjoernson's later work. The gymnasium in _Flags_ takes the place of the
+church in _Synnoeve_; and acrobatic feats of the body are deemed more
+healthful than the religious aspirations of the soul. Kallem, a
+prominent character of the story _In God's Way_, usually appears walking
+on his hands, which is not the only fashion in which he is upside down.
+The book _Flags_ is, frankly speaking, an intolerable bore. The hero,
+Rendalen, who also appears in the subsequent novel, is the mouthpiece of
+the new opinions of the author; a convenient if clumsy device, for
+whenever Bjoernson wishes to expound his views on education, hygiene, or
+religion, he simply makes Rendalen deliver a lecture. Didactic novels
+are in general a poor substitute either for learning or for fiction,
+but they are doubly bad when the author is confused in his ideas of
+science and in his notions of art. One general "lesson" emerges from the
+jargon of this book--that men should suffer for immorality as severely
+as women, a doctrine neither new nor practicable. The difficulty is that
+with Bjoernson, as with some others who shout this edict, the equalising
+of the punishment takes the form of leaving the men as they are, and
+issuing a general pardon to the women. Rendalen, the head-master of the
+school, is constantly bringing up this topic, and he makes it the chief
+subject for discussion in the girls' debating society! These females are
+going to be emancipated. A pseudo-scientific twist is also given to this
+novel by the introduction of mesmerism and hypnotic influence, matters
+in which the author is deeply interested. We are given to understand
+that a large number of women are annually ruined, not by their lack of
+moral conviction and will power, but simply by the hypnotic influence of
+men. One may perhaps reasonably doubt the ultimate value of a wide
+dissemination of this great idea, especially in a young ladies'
+seminary. To the unsympathetic reader, the one question that will keep
+him afloat in all this welter, is not concerned with pedagogy; it is the
+honest attempt to discover why the book bears its strange title.
+Unfortunately he will not find out until the last leaf. Then
+
+     "the connexion of which with the plot one sees."
+
+[4] In the original the title is "In God's Ways."
+
+It is pleasant to take up the volume _In God's Way_, for, however
+disappointing it may be to those who know the young Bjoernson, it is
+vastly superior to _Flags_. It is what is called to-day a "strong"
+novel, and has naturally evoked the widest variation of comment. By many
+it has been greeted with enthusiastic admiration and by many with
+outspoken disgust. Psychologically, it is indeed powerful. The
+characters are interesting, and they develop in a way that may or may
+not be God's, but resemble His in being mysterious. One cannot foresee
+in the early chapters what is going to happen to the _dramatis personae_,
+nor what is to be our final attitude toward any of them. Think of the
+impression made on us by our first acquaintance with Josephine, or
+Kallem, or Ragni, or Ole; and then compare it with the state of our
+feelings as we draw near the end. Not one of these characters remains
+the same; each one develops, and develops as he might in actual life.
+Bjoernson does not approach his men and women from an easy chair, in the
+descriptive manner; once created, we feel that they would grow without
+his aid.
+
+For all this particular triumph of art, _In God's Way_ is plainly a
+didactic novel, with the author preaching from beginning to end. The
+"fighting" quality in the novelist gets the better of his literary
+genius. We have a story in the extreme realistic style, marked by
+occasional scenes of great beauty and force; but the exposition of
+doctrine is somewhat vague and confused, and the construction of the
+whole work decidedly inartistic. Two general points, however, are made
+clear: First, that one may walk in God's way without believing in God.
+Religion is of no importance in comparison with conduct, nor have the
+two things any vital or necessary connexion. This is a modern view, and
+perhaps a natural reaction from the strictness of Bjoernson's childhood
+training. Second, that virtue is a matter entirely of the heart, bearing
+no relation whatever to the statute-book. A woman may be legally an
+adulteress and yet absolutely pure. This also is quite familiar to us in
+the pages of modern dramatists and novelists. Bjoernson has taken an
+extraordinary instance to prove his thesis, a thesis that perhaps needs
+no emphasis, for human nature is only too well disposed to make its
+moral creed coincide with its bodily instincts.
+
+The same theme--mental as opposed to physical female chastity--is the
+leading idea of _Mary_, a novel that has had considerable success in
+Norway and in Germany, but has only this year been translated into
+English. This work of his old age shows not the slightest trace of
+decay. It is an interesting and powerful analysis of a girl's heart,
+written in short, vigorous sentences. Mary, after taking plenty of time
+for reflexion, and without any solicitation, deliberately gives herself
+to her lover, in a manner exactly similar to a scene in Maupassant's
+novel, _Notre Coeur_. Her fiance is naturally amazed, as there has been
+nothing leading up to this; she comes to him of her own free will. Her
+theory of conduct (which exemplifies that of Bjoernson) is that a woman
+is the sovereign mistress of her own body, and can do what she pleases.
+There is nothing immoral in a woman's free gift of herself to her lover,
+provided she does it out of her royal bounty, and not as a weak yielding
+to masculine pursuit. The next day Mary is grievously disappointed to
+discover that, instead of the homage and worship she expected, the
+erstwhile timid lover glories in the sense of possession. She fears that
+she cannot live an absolutely independent life with such a husband--and
+Bjoernson's gospel is, of course, the untrammelled freedom of woman. So,
+although she is about to become a mother, she deliberately cancels the
+engagement to the putative child's father; this puzzles him even more
+than her previous conduct, though he is forced to acquiesce. Then, in a
+final access of despair, as she is about to commit suicide, she is
+rescued by a man whose love is like the moth's for the star--who tells
+her that no matter what she has done, she is the noblest, purest woman
+on earth, and the chaste queen of his heart. Thus, by a stroke of good
+fortune, rather than by anything inevitable in the story, the book ends
+happily, with Mary and her second adoring lover in the very delirium of
+joy. It is evident that the novel is nothing but a _Tendenz-Roman_;
+Bjoernson wishes us to approve of his heroine's conduct throughout--of
+the entirely unnecessary sacrifice of her virtue, of the subsequent
+sacrifice of her reputation, and of her remorseless joy in the arms of
+another man. Such is to be the doctrine of sex equality; men are not to
+be made more virtuous, but the freedom of women is not only to be
+pardoned, but approved.
+
+In comparing the three late with the four early novels, the most
+striking change is instantly apparent to anyone who reads _Synnoeve
+Solbakken_ and then opens _In God's Way_. It is the sudden and
+depressing change of air, from the mountains to the sick-room. The
+abundance of medical detail in the later novel is almost nauseating, and
+would be wholly so were it not absurd. One has only to compare the
+invigorating scenery and the simple love scenes in _Synnoeve_ with the
+minute examination of Ragni's spittle (for tuberculosis) in the other
+book--but enough is said. Despite all that has been written in praise of
+Bjoernson's "courage" in dealing with problems of sex and disease, I
+sympathise with the cry of his friend in 1879:--
+
+     "Come back again, dear Bjoernson, come back!"
+
+It is easy to see that the influence of modern English scepticism cannot
+account entirely for the revolution in the Norwegian's mind and art. We
+can clearly observe an attraction much nearer, that has drawn this
+luminous star so far out of its course. It is none other than the mighty
+Ibsen. Ibsen's analysis of disease, his examination of marriage
+problems, his Ishmaelite attacks on the present structure of civilised
+society--all this has had its effect on his contemporary and countryman.
+As a destructive force Ibsen was stronger than Bjoernson, because he was
+ruthless. But one had the courage of despair, while the other has the
+courage of hope. Bjoernson does not believe in Fate and is not afraid of
+it. He loves and believes in humanity. His gloomiest books end with a
+vision. There is always a rift in the clouds. Throughout all his career
+he has set his face steadfastly toward what he has taken to be the true
+light. Such men compel admiration, no matter whose colours they bear.
+And however much we may deplore his present course, we cannot now echo
+the cry of his friend and say, "Come back!" The language of the poet
+better expresses our attitude:--
+
+    "Life's night begins: let him never come back to us!
+     There would be doubt, hesitation, and pain,
+     Forced praise on our part--the glimmer of twilight,
+     Never glad confident morning again!
+     Best fight on well, for we taught him--strike gallantly,
+     Menace our heart ere we master his own;
+     Then let him receive the new knowledge and wait us,
+     Pardoned in heaven, the first by the throne!"
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+MARK TWAIN
+
+
+During the last twenty years, a profound change has taken place in the
+attitude of the reading public toward Mark Twain. I can remember very
+well when he was regarded merely as a humorist, and one opened his books
+with an anticipatory grin. Very few supposed that he belonged to
+literature; and a complete, uniform edition of his _Works_ would perhaps
+have been received with something of the mockery that greeted Ben
+Jonson's folio in 1616. Professor Richardson's _American Literature_,
+which is still a standard work, appeared originally in 1886. My copy,
+which bears the date 1892, contains only two references in the index to
+Mark Twain, while Mr. Cable, for example, receives ten; and the whole
+volume fills exactly nine hundred and ninety pages. Looking up one of
+the two references, we find the following opinion:--
+
+     "But there is a class of writers, authors ranking below Irving or
+     Lowell, and lacking the higher artistic or moral purpose of the
+     greater humorists, who amuse a generation and then pass from sight.
+     Every period demands a new manner of jest, after the current
+     fashion.... The reigning favourites of the day are Frank R.
+     Stockton, Joel Chandler Harris, the various newspaper jokers, and
+     'Mark Twain.' But the creators of 'Pomona' and 'Rudder Grange,' of
+     'Uncle Remus and his Folk-lore Stories,' and 'Innocents Abroad,'
+     clever as they are, must make hay while the sun shines. Twenty
+     years hence, unless they chance to enshrine their wit in some
+     higher literary achievement, their unknown successors will be the
+     privileged comedians of the republic. Humour alone never gives its
+     masters a place in literature; it must coexist with literary
+     qualities, and must usually be joined with such pathos as one finds
+     in Lamb, Hood, Irving, or Holmes."
+
+It is interesting to remember that before this pronouncement was
+published, _Tom Sawyer_ and _Huckleberry Finn_ had been read by
+thousands. Professor Richardson continued: "Two or three divisions of
+American humour deserve somewhat more respectful treatment," and he
+proceeds to give a full page to Petroleum V. Nasby, another page to
+Artemus Ward, and two and one-half pages to Josh Billings, while Mark
+Twain had received less than four lines. After stating that, in the case
+of authors like Mark Twain, "temporary amusement, not literary product,
+is the thing sought and given," Professor Richardson announces that the
+department of fiction will be considered later. In this "department,"
+Mark Twain is not mentioned at all, although Julian Hawthorne receives
+over three pages!
+
+I have quoted Professor Richardson at length, because he is a deservedly
+high authority, and well represents an attitude toward Mark Twain that
+was common all during the eighties. Another college professor, who is
+to-day one of the best living American critics, says, in his _Initial
+Studies in American Letters_ (1895), "Though it would be ridiculous to
+maintain that either of these writers [Artemus Ward and Mark Twain]
+takes rank with Lowell and Holmes, ... still it will not do to ignore
+them as mere buffoons, or even to predict that their humours will soon
+be forgotten." There is no allusion in his book to _Tom Sawyer_ or
+_Huckleberry Finn_, nor does the critic seem to regard their creator as
+in any sense a novelist. Still another writer, in a passing allusion to
+Mark Twain, says, "Only a very small portion of his writing has any
+place as literature."
+
+Literary opinions change as time progresses; and no one could have
+observed the remarkable demonstration at the seventieth birthday of our
+great national humorist without feeling that most of his contemporaries
+regarded him, not as their peer, but as their Chief. Without wishing to
+make any invidious comparisons, I cannot refrain from commenting on the
+statement that it would be "ridiculous" to maintain that Mark Twain
+takes rank with Oliver Wendell Holmes. It is, of course, absolutely
+impossible to predict the future; the only real test of the value of a
+book is Time. Who now reads Cowley? Time has laughed at so many
+contemporary judgements that it would be foolhardy to make positive
+assertions about literary stock quotations one hundred years from now.
+Still, guesses are not prohibited; and I think it not unlikely that the
+name of Mark Twain will outlast the name of Holmes. American Literature
+would surely be the poorer if the great Boston Brahmin had not enlivened
+it with his rich humour, his lambent wit, and his sincere pathos; but
+the whole content of his work seems slighter than the big American prose
+epics of the man of our day.
+
+Indeed, it seems to me that Mark Twain is our foremost living American
+writer. He has not the subtlety of Henry James or the wonderful charm of
+Mr. Howells; he could not have written _Daisy Miller_, or _A Modern
+Instance_, or _Indian Summer_, or _The Kentons_--books which exhibit
+literary quality of an exceedingly high order. I have read them over and
+over again, with constantly increasing profit and delight. I wish that
+Mr. Howells might live for ever, and give to every generation the pure
+intellectual joy that he has given to ours. But the natural endowment of
+Mark Twain is still greater. Mr. Howells has made the most of himself;
+God has done it all for Mark Twain. If there be a living American writer
+touched with true genius, whose books glow with the divine fire, it is
+he. He has always been a conscientious artist; but no amount of industry
+could ever have produced a _Huckleberry Finn_.
+
+When I was a child at the West Middle Grammar School of Hartford, on one
+memorable April day, Mark Twain addressed the graduating-class. I was
+thirteen years old, but I have found it impossible to forget what he
+said. The subject of his "remarks" was Methuselah. He informed us that
+Methuselah lived to the ripe old age of nine hundred and sixty-nine. But
+he might as well have lived to be several thousand--nothing happened.
+The speaker told us that we should all live longer than Methuselah.
+Fifty years of Europe are better than a cycle of Cathay, and twenty
+years of modern American life are longer and richer in content than the
+old patriarch's thousand. Ours will be the true age in which to live,
+when more will happen in a day than in a year of the flat existence of
+our ancestors. I cannot remember his words; but what a fine thing it is
+to hear a speech, and carry away an idea!
+
+I have since observed that this idea runs through much of his literary
+work. His philosophy of life underlies his broadest burlesque--for _A
+Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court_ is simply an exposure of the
+"good old times." Mark Twain believes in the Present, in human progress.
+Too often do we apprehend the Middle Ages through the glowing pages of
+Spenser and Walter Scott; we see only glittering processions of ladies
+dead and lovely knights. Mark Twain shows us the wretched condition of
+the common people, their utter ignorance and degradation, the coarseness
+and immorality of technical chivalry, the cruel and unscrupulous
+ecclesiastical tyranny, and the capricious insolence of the barons. One
+may regret that he has reversed the dynamics in so glorious a book as
+Malory's _Morte d'Arthur_, but, through all the buffoonery and roaring
+mirth with which the knights in armour are buried, the artistic and
+moral purpose of the satirist is clear. If I understand him rightly, he
+would have us believe that _our_ age, not theirs, is the "good time";
+nay, ours is the age of magic and wonder. We need not regret in
+melancholy sentimentality the picturesqueness of bygone days, for we
+ourselves live, not in a material and commonplace generation, but in the
+very midst of miracles and romance. Merlin and the Fay Morgana would
+have given all their petty skill to have been able to use a telephone or
+a phonograph, or to see a moving picture. The sleeping princess and her
+castle were awakened by a kiss; but in the twentieth century a man in
+Washington touches a button, and hundreds of miles away tons of
+machinery begin to move, fountains begin to play, and the air resounds
+with the whir of wheels. In comparison with to-day, the age of chivalry
+seems dull and poor. Even in chivalry itself our author is more knightly
+than Lancelot; for was there ever a more truly chivalrous performance
+than Mark Twain's essay on Harriet Shelley, or his literary monument to
+Joan of Arc? In these earnest pages, our national humorist appears as
+the true knight.
+
+Mark Twain's humour is purely American. It is not the humour of
+Washington Irving, which resembles that of Addison and Thackeray; it is
+not delicate and indirect. It is genial, sometimes outrageous,
+mirth--laughter holding both his sides. I have found it difficult to
+read him in a library or on a street-car, for explosions of pent-up
+mirth or a distorted face are apt to attract unpleasant attention in
+such public places. Mark Twain's humour is boisterous, uproarious,
+colossal, overwhelming. As has often been remarked, the Americans are
+not naturally a gay people, like the French; nor are we light-hearted
+and careless, like the Irish and the Negro. At heart, we are intensely
+serious, nervous, melancholy. For humour, therefore, we naturally turn
+to buffoonery and burlesque, as a reaction against the strain and
+tension of life. Our attitude is something like that of the lonely
+author of the _Anatomy of Melancholy_, who used to lean over the
+parapet of Magdalen Bridge, and shake with mirth at the obscene jokes of
+the bargemen. We like Mark Twain's humour, not because we are frivolous,
+but because we are just the reverse. I have never known a frivolous
+person who really enjoyed or appreciated Mark Twain.
+
+The essence of Mark Twain's humour is Incongruity. The jumping frog is
+named Daniel Webster; and, indeed, the intense gravity of a frog's face,
+with the droop at the corners of the mouth, might well be envied by many
+an American Senator. When the shotted frog vainly attempted to leave the
+earth, he shrugged his shoulders "like a Frenchman." Bilgewater and the
+Dolphin on the raft are grotesquely incongruous figures. The rescuing of
+Jim from his prison cell is full of the most incongruous ideas, his
+common-sense attitude toward the whole transaction contrasting strangely
+with that of the romantic Tom. Along with the constant incongruity goes
+the element of surprise--which Professor Beers has well pointed out.
+When one begins a sentence, in an apparently serious discussion, one
+never knows how it will end. In discussing the peace that accompanies
+religious faith, Mark Twain says that he has often been impressed
+with the calm confidence of a Christian with four aces.
+Exaggeration--deliberate, enormous hyperbole--is another feature.
+Rudyard Kipling, who has been profoundly influenced by Mark Twain, and
+has learned much from him, often employs the same device, as in
+_Brugglesmith_. Irreverence is also a noteworthy quality. In his
+travel-books, we are given the attitude of the typical American
+Philistine toward the wonders and sacred relics of the Old World, the
+whole thing being a gigantic burlesque on the sentimental guide-books
+which were so much in vogue before the era of Baedeker. With such
+continuous fun and mirth, satire and burlesque, it is no wonder that
+Mark Twain should not always be at his best. He is doubtless sometimes
+flat, sometimes coarse, as all humorists since Rabelais have been. The
+wonder is that his level has been so high. I remember, just before the
+appearance of _Following the Equator_, I had been told that Mark Twain's
+inspiration was finally gone, and that he could not be funny if he
+tried. To test this, I opened the new book, and this is what I found on
+the first page:--
+
+     "We sailed for America, and there made certain preparations. This
+     took but little time. Two members of my family elected to go with
+     me. Also a carbuncle. The dictionary says a carbuncle is a kind of
+     jewel. Humour is out of place in a dictionary."
+
+Although Mark Twain has the great qualities of the true humorist--common
+sense, human sympathy, and an accurate eye for proportion--he is much
+more than a humorist. His work shows high literary quality, the quality
+that appears in first-rate novels. He has shown himself to be a genuine
+artist. He has done something which many popular novelists have signally
+failed to accomplish--he has created real characters. His two wonderful
+boys, Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn, are wonderful in quite different
+ways. The creator of Tom exhibited remarkable observation; the creator
+of Huck showed the divine touch of imagination. Tom is the American
+boy--he is "smart." In having his fence whitewashed, in controlling a
+pool of Sabbath-school tickets at the precise psychological moment, he
+displays abundant promise of future success in business. Huck, on the
+other hand, is the child of nature, harmless, sincere, and crudely
+imaginative. His reasonings with Jim about nature and God belong to the
+same department of natural theology as that illustrated in Browning's
+_Caliban_. The night on the raft with Jim, when these two creatures look
+aloft at the stars, and Jim reckons the moon _laid_ them, is a case in
+point.
+
+     "We had the sky up there, all speckled with stars, and we used to
+     lay on our backs and look up at them, and discuss about whether
+     they was made or just happened. Jim he allowed they was made, but I
+     allowed they happened; I judged it would have took too long to
+     _make_ so many. Jim said the moon could a _laid_ them; well, that
+     looked kind of reasonable, so I didn't say nothing against it,
+     because I've seen a frog lay most as many, so of course it could be
+     done. We used to watch the stars that fell, too, and see them
+     streak down. Jim allowed they'd got spoiled and was hove out of the
+     nest."
+
+Again, Mark Twain has so much dramatic power that, were his literary
+career beginning instead of closing, he might write for us the great
+American play that we are still awaiting. The story of the feud between
+the Grangerfords and the Shepherdsons is thrillingly dramatic, and the
+tragic climax seizes the heart. The shooting of the drunken Boggs, the
+gathering of the mob, and its control by one masterful personality,
+belong essentially to true drama, and are written with power and
+insight. The pathos of these scenes is never false, never mawkish or
+overdone; it is the pathos of life itself. Mark Twain's extraordinary
+skill in descriptive passages shows, not merely keen observation, but
+the instinct for the specific word--the one word that is always better
+than any of its synonyms, for it makes the picture real--it creates the
+illusion, which is the essence of all literary art. The storm, for
+example:--
+
+     "It was my watch below till twelve, but I wouldn't a turned in
+     anyway if I'd had a bed, because a body don't see such a storm as
+     that every day in the week, not by a long sight. My souls, how the
+     wind did scream along! And every second or two there'd come a glare
+     that lit up the white-caps for a half a mile around, and you'd see
+     the islands looking dusty through the rain, and the trees thrashing
+     around in the wind; then comes a _h-wach_!--bum! bum!
+     bumble-umble-umbum-bum-bum-bum--and the thunder would go rumbling
+     and grumbling away, and quit--and then _rip_ comes another flash
+     and another sockdolager. The waves 'most washed me off the raft
+     sometimes, but I hadn't any clothes on, and didn't mind. We didn't
+     have no trouble about snags; the lightning was glaring and
+     flittering around so constant that we could see them plenty soon
+     enough to throw her head this way or that and miss them."
+
+_Tom Sawyer_ and _Huckleberry Finn_ are prose epics of American life.
+The former is one of those books--of which _The Pilgrim's Progress_,
+_Gulliver's Travels_, and _Robinson Crusoe_ are supreme examples--that
+are read at different periods of one's life from very different points
+of view; so that it is not easy to say when one enjoys them the
+most--before one understands their real significance or after. Nearly
+all healthy boys enjoy reading _Tom Sawyer_, because the intrinsic
+interest of the story is so great, and the various adventures of the
+hero are portrayed with such gusto. Yet it is impossible to outgrow the
+book. The eternal Boy is there, and one cannot appreciate the nature of
+boyhood properly until one has ceased to be a boy. The other
+masterpiece, _Huckleberry Finn_, is really not a child's book at all.
+Children devour it, but they do not digest it. It is a permanent picture
+of a certain period of American history, and this picture is made
+complete, not so much by the striking portraits of individuals placed on
+the huge canvas, as by the vital unity of the whole composition. If one
+wishes to know what life on the Mississippi really was, to know and
+understand the peculiar social conditions of that highly exciting time,
+one has merely to read through this powerful narrative, and a definite,
+coherent, vivid impression remains.
+
+By those who have lived there, and whose minds are comparatively free
+from prejudice, Mark Twain's pictures of life in the South before the
+war are regarded as, on the whole, nearer the truth than those supplied
+by any other artist. One reason for this is the aim of the author; he
+was not trying to support or to defend any particular theory--no, his
+aim was purely and wholly artistic. In _Uncle Tom's Cabin_, a book by no
+means devoid of literary art, the red-hot indignation of the author
+largely nullified her evident desire to tell the truth. If one succeeds
+in telling the truth about anything whatever, one must have something
+more than the _desire_ to tell the truth; one must know how to do it.
+False impressions do not always, probably do not commonly, come from
+deliberate liars. Mrs. Stowe's astonishing work is not really the
+history of slavery; it is the history of abolition sentiment. On the
+other hand, writers so graceful, talented, and clever as Mr. Page and
+Mr. Hopkinson Smith do not always give us pictures that correctly
+represent, except locally, the actual situation before the war; for
+these gentlemen seem to have _Uncle Tom's Cabin_ in mind. Mark Twain
+gives us both points of view; he shows us the beautiful side of
+slavery,--for it had a wonderfully beautiful, patriarchal side,--and he
+also shows us the horror of it. The living dread of the Negro that he
+would be sold down the river, has never been more vividly represented
+than when the poor woman in _Pudd'nhead Wilson_ sees the water swirling
+against the snag, and realises that she is bound the wrong way. That one
+scene makes an indelible impression on the reader's mind, and
+counteracts tons of polemics. The peculiar harmlessness of Jim is
+beautiful to contemplate. Although he and Huck really own the raft, and
+have taken all the risk, they obey implicitly the orders of the two
+tramps who call themselves Duke and King. Had that been a raft on the
+Connecticut River, and had Huck and Jim been Yankees, they would have
+said to the intruders, "Whose raft is this, anyway?"
+
+Mark Twain may be trusted to tell the truth; for the eye of the born
+caricature artist always sees the salient point. Caricatures often give
+us a better idea of their object than a photograph; for the things that
+are exaggerated, be it a large nose, or a long neck, are, after all,
+the things that differentiate this particular individual from the mass.
+Everybody remembers how Tweed was caught by one of Nast's cartoons.
+
+Mark Twain is through and through American. If foreigners really wish to
+know the American spirit, let them read Mark Twain. He is far more
+American than their favourite specimen, Walt Whitman. The essentially
+American qualities of common sense, energy, enterprise, good-humour, and
+Philistinism fairly shriek from his pages. He reveals us in our
+limitations, in our lack of appreciation of certain beautiful things,
+fully as well as he pictures us in coarser but more triumphant aspects.
+It is, of course, preposterous to say that Americans are totally
+different from other humans; we have no monopoly of common sense and
+good-humour, nor are we all hide-bound Philistines. But there is
+something pronounced in the American character, and the books of Mark
+Twain reveal it. He has also more than once been a valuable and
+efficient champion. Without being an offensive and blatant Jingo, I
+think he is content to be an American.
+
+Mark Twain is our great Democrat. Democracy is his political, social,
+and moral creed. His hatred of snobbery, affectation, and assumed
+superiority is total. His democracy has no limits; it is bottom-less and
+far-reaching. Nothing seems really sacred to him except the sacred
+right of every individual to do exactly as he pleases; which means, of
+course, that no one can interfere with another's right, for then
+democracy would be the privilege of a few, and would stultify itself.
+Not only does the spirit of democracy breathe out from all his greater
+books, but it is shown in specific instances, such as _Travelling with a
+Reformer_; and Mark Twain has more than once given testimony for his
+creed, without recourse to the pen.
+
+At the head of all American novelists, living and dead, stands Nathaniel
+Hawthorne, unapproached, possibly unapproachable. His fine and subtle
+art is an altogether different thing from the art of our mighty,
+democratic, national humorist. But Literature is wonderfully diverse in
+its content; and the historian of American Letters, in the far future,
+will probably find it impossible to omit the name of Mark Twain.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+HENRYK SIENKIEWICZ
+
+
+In a private letter to a friend, written in 1896, the late Mr. Charles
+Dudley Warner remarked: "I am just reading _Children of the Soil_, which
+I got in London before I sailed. It confirms me in my very high opinion
+of him. I said the other day that I think him at the head of living
+novelists, both in range, grasp of a historical situation, intuition and
+knowledge of human nature. Comparisons are always dangerous, but I know
+no historical novelist who is his superior, or who is more successful in
+creating characters. His canvas is very large, and in the beginning of
+his historical romances the reader needs patience, but the picture
+finally comes out vividly, and the episodes in the grand story are
+perfectly enthralling. Of his novels of modern life I cannot speak too
+highly. The subtlety of his analysis is wonderful, and the shades of
+character are delineated by slight but always telling strokes. There is
+the same reality in them that is in his romances. As to the secret of
+his power, who can say? It is genius (I still believe in that word) but
+re-enforced by very hard labour and study, by much reading, and by acute
+observation."
+
+This letter may serve as an excellent summary of the opinions of many
+intelligent American critics concerning a writer whose name was unknown
+to us in 1890, and of whom the whole world was talking in 1895.[5] One
+reason--apart from their intrinsic excellence--for the Byronic
+suddenness of the fame of the Polish Trilogy, was the psychological
+opportuneness of its appearance. In England and in America the recent
+Romantic Revival was at its flood; we were all reading historical
+romances, and were hungry for more. Sienkiewicz satisfied us by
+providing exactly what we were looking for. In his own country he was
+idolised, for his single pen had done more than many years of tumultuous
+discussion, to put Poland back on the map of Europe. At the exercises
+commemorating the five hundredth anniversary of the University of
+Cracow, the late President Gilman, who had the well-deserved honour of
+speaking for the universities of America, said: "America thanks Poland
+for three great names: Copernicus, to whom all the world is indebted;
+Kosciuszko, who spilled his blood for American independence; and
+Sienkiewicz, whose name is a household word in thousands of American
+homes, and who has introduced Poland to the American people."[6]
+
+[5] His name does not appear in standard English biographical
+dictionaries or literary reference books for 1893 or 1894.
+
+[6] See an interesting article in the _Outlook_ for 3 August, 1901, _A
+Visit to Sienkiewicz_, by L. E. Van Norman.
+
+Sienkiewicz was born in 1845. After student days at Warsaw, he came over
+in 1876-1877 to California, in a party that included Madame Modjeska.
+They attempted to establish a kind of socialistic community, which bears
+in the retrospect a certain resemblance to Brook Farm. Fortunately for
+the cause of art, which the world needs more than it does socialism, the
+enterprise was a failure. Sienkiewicz returned to Poland, and began his
+literary career; Madame Modjeska became one of the chief ornaments of
+the English stage for a quarter of a century. Her ashes now rest in the
+ancient Polish city where President Gilman uttered his fine tribute to
+the friend of her youth.
+
+The three great Polish romances were all written in the eighties; and at
+about the same time the author was also engaged in the composition of
+purely realistic work, which displays his powers in a quite different
+form of art, and constitutes the most original--though not the most
+popular--part of his literary production. The _Children of the Soil_,
+which some of the elect in Poland consider his masterpiece, is a novel,
+constructed and executed in the strictest style of realism; _Without
+Dogma_ is still farther removed from the Romantic manner, for it is a
+story of psychological analytical introspection. Sienkiewicz himself
+regards _Children of the Soil_ as his favourite, although he is "not
+prepared to say just why." And _Without Dogma_ he thinks to be "in many
+respects my strongest work." It is evident that he does not consider
+himself primarily a maker of stirring historical romance. But in the
+nineties he returned to this form of fiction, producing his Roman
+panorama called _Quo Vadis_, which, although it has made the biggest
+noise of all his books, is perhaps the least valuable. Like _Ben Hur_,
+it was warmed over into a tremendously successful melodrama, and
+received the final compliment of parody.[7] Toward the close of the
+century, Sienkiewicz completed another massive historical romance, _The
+Knights of the Cross_, which, in its abundant action, striking
+characterisation, and charming humour, recalled the Trilogy; this was
+followed by _On the Field of Glory_, and we may confidently expect more,
+though never too much; he simply could not be dull if he tried.
+
+[7] One of the most grotesque and laughable burlesques ever seen on the
+American stage was the travesty of _Quo Vadis_, with the heroine Lithia,
+who drew a lobster on the sand: the strong man, Zero, wrenched the neck
+off a wild borax.
+
+In a time like ours, when literary tabloids take the place of wholesome
+mental food, when many successful novels can be read at a sitting or a
+lying--requiring no exertion either of soul or body--the portentous size
+of these Polish stories is a magnificent challenge. If some books are to
+be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some few to be chewed and
+digested, what shall we do with Sienkiewicz? In Mr. Curtin's admirable
+translation, the Trilogy covers over twenty-five hundred closely printed
+pages; the _Knights of the Cross_ over seven hundred and fifty,
+_Children of the Soil_ over six hundred and fifty; _Without Dogma_
+(Englished by another hand) has been silently so much abridged in
+translation that we do not know what its actual length may be. We do not
+rebel, because the next chapter is invariably not a task, but a
+temptation; but when we wake up with a start at the call _Finis_, which
+magic word transfers us from the seventeenth to the twentieth century,
+and contemplate the vast fabric of our dream, we cannot help asking if
+there is any law in the construction that requires so much material.
+Gogol, in his astonishing romance, _Taras Bulba_, which every lover of
+Sienkiewicz should read, gives us the same impression of Vastness, in a
+book Lilliputian in size. Nor is there any apparent reason why the
+Polish narratives should stop on the last page, nor indeed stop at all.
+Combat succeeds combat, when in the midst of the hurly-burly, the Master
+of the Show calls time. It is his arbitrary will, rather than any
+inevitable succession of events, that shuts off the scene: the men might
+be fighting yet. This passion for mere detail mars the first part of
+_With Fire and Sword_; one cannot see the forest for the trees.
+
+One reason for this immensity is the author's desire to be historically
+accurate, the besetting sin of many recent dramas and novels. Before
+beginning to write, Sienkiewicz reads all the authorities and
+documentary evidence he can find. The result is plainly seen in the
+early pages of _With Fire and Sword_, which read far more like a history
+than like a work of fiction--note the striking contrast in _Pan
+Michael_! The _Knights of the Cross_ appeared with maps. The topography
+of _Quo Vadis_ was so carefully prepared that it almost serves as a
+guide-book to ancient Rome. Now the relation of History to Fiction has
+never been better stated than by Lessing: "The dramatist uses history,
+not because it has happened, but because it has so happened that he
+could scarcely find anything else better adapted to his purpose." No
+work of fiction has ever gained immortality by its historical accuracy.
+
+Everyone notices that the works of Sienkiewicz are Epics rather than
+Novels. Even bearing Fielding clearly in mind, there is no better
+illustration to be found in literary history. The Trilogy bears the same
+relation to the wars of Poland that the Iliad bears to the struggle at
+Troy. The scope and flow of the narrative, the power of the scenes, the
+vast perspective, the portraits of individual heroes, the impassioned
+poetry of the style--all these qualities are of the Epic. The intense
+patriotism is thrilling, and makes one envy the sensations of native
+readers. And yet the reasons for the downfall of Poland are made
+perfectly clear.
+
+Is the _romanticist_ Sienkiewicz an original writer? In the narrow and
+strict sense of the word, I think not. He is eclectic rather than
+original. He is a skilful fuser of material, like Shakespeare. At any
+rate, his most conspicuous virtue is not originality. He has enormous
+force, a glorious imagination, astonishing facility, and a remarkable
+power of making pictures, both in panorama and in miniature; but his
+work shows constantly the inspiration not only of his historical
+authorities, but of previous poets and novelists. Those who are really
+familiar with the writings of Homer, Shakespeare, Scott, and Dumas, will
+not require further comment on this point. The influence of Homer is
+seen in the constant similes, the epithets like "incomparable bowman,"
+and the stress laid on the deeds of individual heroes; a thing quite
+natural in Homeric warfare, but rather disquieting in the days of
+villainous saltpetre. The three swordsmen in _With Fire and Sword_--Pan
+Yan, Pan Podbienta, and Pan Michael--infallibly remind us of Dumas's
+three guardsmen; and the great duel scenes in the same story, and in the
+_Knights of the Cross_, are quite in the manner of the Frenchman. Would
+that other writers could employ their reminiscences to such advantage!
+In the high colouring, in the management of historical events, and in
+patriotic enthusiasm, we cannot help thinking of Scott. But be the debt
+to Dumas and to Scott as great as one pleases to estimate, I am free to
+acknowledge that I find the romances of the Pole more enthralling than
+those of either or both of his two great predecessors.
+
+With reference to the much-discussed character of Zagloba, I confess I
+cannot join in the common verdict that pronounces him a "new creation in
+literature." Those who believe this delightful person to be something
+new and original have simply forgotten Falstaff. If one will begin all
+over again, and read the two parts of _Henry IV_, and then take a look
+at Zagloba, the author of his being is immediately apparent. Zagloba is
+a Polish Falstaff, an astonishingly clever imitation of the real thing.
+He is old, white-haired, fat, a resourceful wit and humorist, better at
+bottles than at battles, and yet bold when policy requires: in every
+essential feature of body and mind he resembles the immortal creation of
+Shakespeare. Sienkiewicz _develops_ him with subtle skill and
+affectionate solicitude, even as Dickens developed Mr. Pickwick; the
+Zagloba of _Pan Michael_ is far sweeter and more mellow than when we
+make his acquaintance in the first volume of the Trilogy; but the last
+word for this character is the word "original." The real triumph of
+Sienkiewicz in the portrayal of the jester is in the fact that he could
+imitate Falstaff without spoiling him, for no other living writer could
+have done it. A copy that can safely be placed alongside the original
+implies art of a very high class. To see Zagloba is to realise the truth
+of Falstaff's remark, "I am not only witty in myself, but the cause that
+wit is in other men."
+
+Sienkiewicz himself perhaps does not appreciate how much he owes to
+Shakespeare, or possibly he is a bit sensitive on the subject, for he
+explains, "If I may be permitted to make a comparison, I think that
+Zagloba is a better character than Falstaff. At heart the old noble was
+a good fellow. He would fight bravely when it became necessary, whereas
+Shakespeare makes Falstaff a coward and a poltroon."[8] If the last two
+epithets were really an accurate description of Falstaff, he would never
+have conquered so many millions of readers.[9]
+
+[8] See Mr. Van Norman's article.
+
+[9] It would be well for Sienkiewicz (and others) to read the brilliant
+essay that appeared, "by another hand," in the First Series of Mr.
+Birrell's _Obiter Dicta_.
+
+In power of description on a large scale, Sienkiewicz seems to take a
+place among the world's great masters of fiction. The bigger the canvas,
+the more impressive he becomes. His pictures of the boundless steppes by
+day and night, and in the varying seasons of the year, leave permanent
+images in the mind. Especially in huge battle scenes is his genius
+resplendent. It is as if we viewed the whole drama of blood from a
+convenient mountain peak. The awful tumult gathers and breaks like some
+hideous storm. So far as I know no writer has ever excelled this
+Verestchagin of the pen except Tolstoi--and Tolstoi's power lies more in
+the subjective side of the horrors of war. The Russian's skill is more
+intellectual, more psychological, of a really higher order of art. For
+in the endeavour to make the picture vivid, Sienkiewicz becomes at times
+merely sensational. There is no excuse for his frequent descent into
+loathsome and horrible detail. The employment of human entrails as a
+necklace may be historically accurate, but it is out of place in a work
+of art. The minute description of the use of the stake is another
+instance of the same tendency, and the unspeakably horrid torture of
+Azya in _Pan Michael_ is a sad blot on an otherwise splendid romance.
+The love of the physically horrible is an unfortunate characteristic of
+our Polish novelist, for it appears in _Quo Vadis_ as well as in the
+Trilogy. The greatest works appeal to the mind rather than the senses.
+_Pan Michael_ is a great book, not because it reeks with blood and
+abounds in hell's ingenuity of pain, but because it presents the
+character of a hero made perfect through suffering; every sword-stroke
+develops his spirit as well as his arm. Superfluous events, so frequent
+in the other works, are here omitted; the story progresses steadily; it
+is the most condensed and the most human book in the Trilogy. Again, in
+_The Deluge_, the author's highest skill is shown not in the portrayal
+of moving accidents by flood and field, but in the regeneration of
+Kmita. He passes through a long period of slow moral gestation, which
+ultimately brings him from darkness to light.
+
+To non-Slavonic readers, who became acquainted with Sienkiewicz through
+the Trilogy, it was a surprise to discover that at home he was equally
+distinguished as an exponent of modern realism. The acute demand for
+anything and everything from his pen led to the translation of _The
+Family of Polanyetski_, rechristened in English (one hardly knows why)
+_Children of the Soil_; this was preceded by the curious psychological
+study, _Without Dogma_. It is extremely fortunate that these two works
+have been made accessible to English readers, for they display powers
+that would not otherwise be suspected. It is true that English novelists
+have shone in both realism and romance: we need remember only Defoe,
+Dickens, and Thackeray. But at the very moment when we were all thinking
+of Sienkiewicz as a reincarnation of Scott or Dumas, we were compelled
+to revise previous estimates of his position and abilities. Genius
+always refuses to be classified, ticketed, or inventoried; just as you
+have got your man "placed," or, to change the figure, have solemnly and
+definitely ushered him to a seat in the second row on the upper tier,
+you discover that he is much bigger than or quite different from your
+definition of him. Sienkiewicz is undoubtedly one of the greatest living
+masters of the realistic novel. In the two stories just mentioned above,
+the most minute trivialities in human intercourse are set forth in a
+style that never becomes trivial. He is as good at external description
+as he is at psychological analysis. He takes all human nature for his
+province. He belongs not only to the "feel" school of novelists, with
+Zola, but to the "thought" school, with Turgenev. The workings of the
+human mind, as impelled by all sorts of motives, ambitions, and
+passions, make the subject for his examination. In the Trilogy, he took
+an enormous canvas, and splashed on myriads of figures; in _Without
+Dogma_, he puts the soul of one man under the microscope. The events in
+this man's life are mainly "transitions from one state of spiritual
+experience to another." Naturally the mirror selected is a diary, for
+_Without Dogma_ belongs to a school of literature illustrated by such
+examples as the _Sorrows of Werther_ and _Amiel's Journal_. It must be
+remembered that we have here a study primarily of the Slav character.
+The hero cleverly diagnoses his own symptoms as _Slave Improductivite_.
+He is perhaps puzzling to the practical Philistine Anglo-Saxon: but not
+if one has read Turgenev, Dostoievsky, or Gorky. Turgenev's brilliant
+analysis of Rudin must stand for all time as a perfect portrait of the
+educated Slav, a person who fulfils the witty definition of a Mugwump,
+"one who is educated beyond his capacity." We have a similar character
+here, the conventional conception of Hamlet, a man whose power of
+reasoning overbalances his strength of will. He can talk brilliantly on
+all kinds of intellectual topics, but he cannot bring things to pass. He
+has a bad case of _slave improductivite_. The very title, _Without
+Dogma_, reveals the lack of conviction that ultimately destroys the
+hero. He has absolutely no driving power; as he expresses it, _he does
+not know_. If one wishes to examine this sort of mind, extremely common
+among the upper classes of Poles and Russians, one cannot do better than
+read attentively this book. Every futile impulse, every vain longing,
+every idle day-dream, is clearly reflected. It is a melancholy
+spectacle, but fascinating and highly instructive. For it is not merely
+an individual, but the national Slavonic character that is revealed.
+
+Sienkiewicz is not only a Romanticist and a Realist--he is also a
+Moralist. The foundations of his art are set deep in the bed-rock of
+moral ideas. As Tolstoi would say, he has the right attitude toward his
+characters. He believes that the Novel should strengthen life, not
+undermine it; ennoble, not defile it; for it is good tidings, not evil.
+"I care not whether the word that I say pleases or not, since I believe
+that I reflect the great urgent need of the soul of humanity, which is
+crying for a change. People must think according to the laws of logic.
+And because they must also live, they want some consolation on the road
+of life. Masters after the manner of Zola give them only dissolution,
+chaos, a disgust for life, and despair."[10] This is the signal of a
+strong and healthy soul. The fact is, that at heart Sienkiewicz is as
+stout a moralist as Tolstoi, and with equal ardour recognises
+Christianity as the world's best standard and greatest need. The basis
+of the novel _Children of the Soil_ is purely Christian. The
+simple-hearted Marynia is married to a man far superior to her in mental
+endowment and training, as so often happens in Slavonic fiction; she
+cannot follow his intellectual flights, and does not even understand the
+processes of his mind. She has no talent for metaphysical discussion,
+and no knowledge of modern science. But although her education does not
+compare with that of her husband, she has, without suspecting it,
+completely mastered the art of life; for she is a devout and sincere
+Christian, meek and lowly in heart. He finally recognises that while he
+has more learning, she has more wisdom; and when the book closes, we see
+him a pupil at her feet. All his vain speculations are overthrown by the
+power of religion manifested in the purity, peace, and contentment of
+his wife's daily life. And now he too--
+
+    "Leads it companioned by the woman there.
+     To live, and see her learn, and learn by her,
+     Out of the low obscure and petty world....
+     To have to do with nothing but the true,
+     The good, the eternal--and these, not alone,
+     In the main current of the general life,
+     But small experiences of every day,
+     Concerns of the particular hearth and home:
+     To learn not only by a comet's rush
+     But a rose's birth,--not by the grandeur, God--
+     But the comfort, Christ."
+
+This idea is revealed positively in _Children of the Soil_, and
+negatively in _Without Dogma_. The two women, Marynia and Aniela, are
+very similar. Aniela's intellect is elementary compared with that of her
+brilliant lover, Leon Ploszowski. But her Christian faith turns out to
+be a much better guide to conduct than his flux of metaphysics. She is a
+good woman, and knows the difference between right and wrong without
+having to look it up in a book. When he urges her to a _liaison_, and
+overwhelms her objections with a fine display of modern dialectic, she
+concludes the debate by saying, "I cannot argue with you, because you
+are so much cleverer than I; but I know that what you want me to do is
+wrong, and I will not do it."
+
+[10] Taken here and there from his essay on Zola.
+
+We find exactly the same emphasis when we turn to the historical romance
+_Quo Vadis_. The whole story is a glorification of Christianity, of
+Christian ethics and Christian belief. The despised Christians have
+discovered the secret of life, which the culture of Petronius sought in
+vain. It was hidden from the wise and prudent, and revealed unto babes.
+The influence of Lygia on Vinicius is, with a totally different
+environment, precisely the same as the influence of Marynia on Pan
+Stanislav.
+
+Sienkiewicz seems to have much the same Christian conception of Love as
+that shown in so many ways by Browning. Love is the _summum bonum_, and
+every manifestation of it has something divine. Love in all its forms
+appears in these Polish novels, as it does in Browning, from the basest
+sensual desire to the purest self-sacrifice. There is indeed a streak of
+animalism in Sienkiewicz, which shows in all his works; but, if we may
+believe him, it is merely one representation of the great passion, which
+so largely controls life and conduct. Love, says Sienkiewicz, with
+perhaps more force than clearness, should be the foundation of all
+literature. "L'amour--c'est un droit eternel, une force vitale, c'est le
+genie--bienfaiteur de notre globe: l'harmonie. Sienkiewicz croit que
+l'amour, ainsi compris, est le fondement de la litterature polonaise--et
+que cet amour devrait l'etre pour toute la litterature."[11] Some light
+may be thrown on this statement by a careful reading of _Pan Michael_.
+
+[11] Sent to me by Dr. Glabisz.
+
+Sienkiewicz is indeed a mighty man--someone has ironically called him a
+literary blacksmith. There is nothing decadent in his nature. Compared
+with many English, German, and French writers, who seem at times to
+express an anaemic and played-out civilisation, he has the very
+exuberance of power and an endless wealth of material. It is as if the
+world were fresh and new. And he has not only delighted us with the
+pageantry of chivalry, and with the depiction of our complex modern
+civilisation, he has for us also the stimulating influence of a great
+moral force.
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+HERMANN SUDERMANN
+
+
+Walking along Michigan Avenue in Chicago one fine day, I stopped in
+front of the recently completed hall devoted to music. On the facade of
+this building had been placed five names, supposed to represent the five
+greatest composers that the world has thus far seen. It was worth while
+to pause a moment and to reflect that those five men were all Germans.
+Germany's contribution to music is not only greater than that of any
+other nation, it is probably greater than that of all the other
+countries of the earth put together, and multiplied several times. In
+many forms of literary art,--especially perhaps in drama and in lyrical
+poetry,--Germany has been eminent; and she has produced the greatest
+literary genius since Shakespeare. To-day the Fatherland remains the
+intellectual workshop of the world; men and women flock thither to study
+subjects as varied as Theology, Chemistry, Mathematics, and Music. All
+this splendid achievement in science and in culture makes poverty in the
+field of prose fiction all the more remarkable. For the fact is, that
+the total number of truly great world-novels written in the German
+language, throughout its entire history, can be counted on the fingers
+of one hand.
+
+In the making of fiction, from the point of view solely of quality,
+Germany cannot stand an instant's comparison with Russia, whose four
+great novelists have immensely enriched the world; nor with Great
+Britain, where masterpieces have been produced for nearly two hundred
+years; nor with France, where the names of notable novels crowd into the
+memory; and even America, so poor in literature and in genuine culture,
+can show at least one romance that stands higher than anything which has
+come from beyond the Rhine. Germany has no reason to feel ashamed of her
+barrenness in fiction, so pre-eminent is she in many other and perhaps
+nobler forms of art. But it is interesting to enquire for a moment into
+possible causes of this phenomenon, and to see if we can discover why
+Teutonic fiction is, relatively speaking, so bad.
+
+One dominant fault in most German novels is a lack of true proportion.
+The principle of selection, which differentiates a painting from a
+photograph, and makes the artist an Interpreter instead of a Recorder,
+has been forgotten or overlooked. The high and holy virtue of Omission
+should be cultivated more sedulously. The art of leaving out is the art
+that produces the real illusion--where, by the omission of unessential
+details, things that are salient can be properly emphasised. And what
+German novels lack is emphasis. This cannot be obtained by merely
+spacing the letters in descriptions and in conversations; it can be
+reached only by remembering that prose fiction is as truly an art form
+as a Sonata. Instead of novels, the weary reader gets long and tiresome
+biographies of rather unimportant persons; people whom we should not in
+the least care to know in real life. We follow them dejectedly from the
+cradle to the grave. Matters of no earthly consequence either to the
+reader, to the hero, or to the course of the plot, are given as much
+prominence as great events. In _Joern Uhl_, to take a recent
+illustration, the novel is positively choked by trivial detail. Despite
+the enormous vogue of this story, it does not seem destined to live. It
+will fall by its own weight.
+
+Another great fault is an excess of sentimentality. For the Germans, who
+delight in destroying old faiths of humanity, and who remorselessly
+hammer away at the shrines where we worship in history and religion,
+are, notwithstanding their iconoclasm, the most sentimental people in
+the world. Many second-and third-rate German novels are ruined for an
+Anglo-Saxon reader by a lush streak of sentimental gush, a curious
+blemish in so intellectual and sceptical a race. This excess of soft
+material appears in a variety of forms; but to take one common
+manifestation of it, I should say that the one single object that has
+done more than anything else to weaken and to destroy German fiction, is
+the Moon. The Germans are, by nature and by training, scientific; and
+what their novels need is not the examination of literary critics, but
+the thoughtful attention of astronomers. The Moon is overworked, and
+needs a long rest. An immense number of pages are illumined by its
+chaste beams, for this satellite is both active and ubiquitous. It
+behaves, it must be confessed, in a dramatic manner, but in a way
+hopelessly at variance with its methodical and orderly self. In other
+words, the Moon, in German fiction, is not astronomical, but decorative.
+I have read some stories where it seems to rise on almost every page,
+and is invariably full. When Stevenson came to grief on the Moon in
+_Prince Otto_, he declared that the next time he wrote a novel, he
+should use an almanac. He unwittingly laid his finger on a weak spot in
+German fiction. The almanac is, after all, what is most sorely needed.
+Even Herr Sudermann, for whom we entertain the highest respect, places
+in _Es War_ a young crescent Moon in the eastern sky! But it is in his
+story, _Der Katzensteg_, that the lunar orb plays its heaviest role. It
+rises so constantly that after a time the very words "_der Mond_" get
+on one's nerves. At the climax, when the lover looks down on the stream,
+he there beholds the dead body of his sweetheart. By some scientific
+process, "unknown to me and which 'twere well to know," she is floating
+on her back in the water, while the Moon illumines her face, leaving the
+rest of her remains in darkness. This constitutes a striking picture;
+and is also of material assistance to the man in locating the
+whereabouts of the girl. He descends, rescues her from the flood, and
+digs a grave in which to bury her. The Moon actively and dramatically
+takes part in this labour. Finally, he has lowered the corpse into the
+bottom of the cavity. The Moon now shines into the grave in such a
+manner that the dead woman's face is bright with its rays, whereas the
+rest of her body and the walls of the tomb are in obscurity. This
+phenomenon naturally makes a powerful impression on the mourner's mind.
+
+If such things can happen in the works of a writer like Sudermann, one
+can easily imagine the reckless behaviour of the Moon in the common run
+of German fiction. The Moon, in fact, is in German novels what the
+calcium light is in American melodrama. If one "assists" at a
+performance of, let us say, _No Wedding Bells for Her_, and can take his
+eye a moment from the stage, he may observe up in the back gallery a
+person working the calcium light, and directing its powerful beams in
+such a fashion that no matter where the heroine moves, they dwell
+exclusively on her face, so that we may contemplate her features
+convulsed with emotion. Now in _Der Katzensteg_, the patient Moon
+follows the heroine about with much the same assiduity, and accuracy of
+aim. Possibly Herr Sudermann, since the composition of that work, has
+really consulted an almanac; for in _Das hohe Lied_, the Moon is
+practically ignored, and never gets a fair start. Toward the end, I felt
+sure that it would appear, and finally, when I came to the words, "The
+weary disk of the full moon (_matte Vollmondscheibe_) hung somewhere in
+the dark sky," I exclaimed, "Art thou there, truepenny?"--but the next
+sentence showed that the author was playing fast and loose with his old
+friend. "It was the illuminated clock of a railway-station." Can
+Sudermann have purposely set a trap for his moon-struck constituency?
+
+From the astronomical point of view, I have seldom read a novel that
+contained so much moonlight as _Der Katzensteg_, and I have never read
+one that contained so little as _Das hohe Lied_. Perhaps Sudermann is
+now quietly protesting against what he himself may regard as a national
+calamity, for it is little less than that. Be this as it may, the lack
+of proportion and the excess of sentimentality are two great evils that
+have militated against the final success of German fiction.
+
+Hermann Sudermann was born at a little village in East Prussia, near the
+Russian frontier. The natal landscape is dull, depressing, gloomy, and
+the skies are low and threatening. The clouds return after the rain.
+Dame Care has spread her grey wings over the flat earth, and neither the
+scenery nor the quality of the air are such as to inspire hope and
+vigour. The boy's parents were desperately poor, and the bitter
+struggles with poverty so frequently described in his novels are
+reminiscent of early experiences. In the beautiful and affectionate
+verses, which constitute the dedication to his father and mother, and
+which are placed at the beginning of _Frau Sorge_, these privations of
+the Sudermann household are dwelt on with loving tenderness. At the age
+of fourteen, the child was forced to leave school, and was apprenticed
+to a chemist--something that recalls chapters in the lives of Keats and
+of Ibsen. But, like most boys who really long for a good education,
+Sudermann obtained it; he continued his studies in private, and later
+returned to school at Tilsit. In 1875 he attended the University at
+Koenigsberg, and in 1877 migrated to the University of Berlin. His first
+impulse was to become a teacher, and he spent several years in a wide
+range of studies in philosophy and literature. Then he turned to
+journalism, and edited a political weekly. He finally forsook journalism
+for literature, and for the last twenty years he has been known in every
+part of the intellectual world.
+
+Like Mr. J. M. Barrie, Signor D'Annunzio, and other contemporaries,
+Sudermann has achieved high distinction both as a novelist and as a
+dramatist. Indeed, one of the signs of the times is the recruiting of
+playwrights from the ranks of trained experts in prose fiction. It may
+perhaps be regarded as one more evidence of the approaching supremacy of
+the Drama, which many literary prophets have foretold. After he had
+published a small collection of "Zwanglose Geschichten," called _Im
+Zwielicht_, Sudermann issued his first real novel, _Dame Care_ (_Frau
+Sorge_). This was followed by two tales bound together under the heading
+_Geschwister_, one of them being the morbidly powerful story, _The Wish_
+(_Der Wunsch_). Soon after came _Der Katzensteg_, translated into
+English with the title, _Regina_. Then, after a surprisingly short
+interval, came his first play, _Die Ehre_ (1889), which appeared in the
+same year as his rival Hauptmann's first drama, _Vor Sonnenaufgang_.
+_Die Ehre_ created a tremendous sensation, and Sudermann was excitedly
+read and discussed far beyond the limits of his native land. He reached
+a wild climax of popularity a few years later with his play _Heimat_
+(English version _Magda_), which has been presented by the greatest
+actresses in the world, and is familiar to everybody. With the exception
+of the long novel, _Es War_ (English translation, _The Undying Past_),
+which appeared in 1894, Sudermann devoted himself exclusively to the
+stage for almost twenty years, and most of us believed he had definitely
+abandoned novel-writing. From 1889 to 1909, he produced nineteen plays,
+nearly every one of them successful. Then last year he astonished
+everybody by publishing a novel of over six hundred closely printed
+pages, called _Das hohe Lied_, translated into English as _The Song of
+Songs_. This has had an enormous success, and for 1908-1909, is the best
+selling work of fiction in the large cities of Germany.
+
+The immense vogue of his early plays had much to do with the wide
+circulation of his previously published novels. Despite the now
+universally acknowledged excellence of _Frau Sorge_, it attracted, at
+the time of its appearance, very little attention. It is going beyond
+the facts to say with one German critic that "it dropped stillborn from
+the press"; but it did not give the author anything like the fame he
+deserved. After the first night of _Die Ehre_, the public became
+inquisitive. A search was made for everything the new author had
+written, and the two novels _Frau Sorge_, and the very recent
+_Katzensteg_, were fairly pounced upon. The small stock on hand was
+immediately exhausted, and the presses poured forth edition after
+edition. At first _Der Katzensteg_ received the louder tribute of
+praise; it was hailed by many otherwise sane critics as the greatest
+work of fiction that Germany had ever produced. But after the tumult and
+the shouting died, the people recognised the superiority of the former
+novel. To-day _Der Katzensteg_ is, comparatively speaking, little read,
+and one seldom hears it mentioned. _Frau Sorge_, on the other hand, has
+not only attained more editions than any other work, either play or
+novel, by its author, but it bears the signs that mark a classic. It is
+one of the very few truly great German novels, and it is possible that
+this early written story will survive everything that Sudermann has
+since produced, which is saying a good deal. It looks like a fixed star.
+
+Sudermann's four novels, _Frau Sorge_, _Der Katzensteg_, _Es War_, and
+_Das hohe Lied_, show a steady progression in Space as well as in Time.
+The first is the shortest; the second is larger; the third is a long
+book; the fourth is a leviathan. If novelists were heard for their much
+speaking, the order of merit in this output would need no comment. But
+the first of these is almost as superior in quality as it is inferior in
+size. When the author prepared it for the press, he was an absolutely
+unknown man. Possibly he put more work on it than went into the other
+books, for it apparently bears the marks of careful revision. It is a
+great exception to the ordinary run of German novels in its complete
+freedom from superfluous and clogging detail. Turgenev used to write his
+stories originally at great length, and then reduce them to a small
+fraction of their original bulk, before offering them to the public. We
+thus receive the quintessence of his thought and of his art. Now _Frau
+Sorge_ has apparently been subjected to some such process. Much of the
+huge and varied cargo of ideas, reflections, comments, and speculations
+carried by the regulation German freight-novel of heavy draught, has
+here been jettisoned. Then the craft itself has been completely
+remodelled, and the final result is a thing of grace and beauty.
+
+_Frau Sorge_ is an admirable story in its absolute unity, in its
+harmonious development, and in its natural conclusion. I do not know of
+any other German novel that has a more attractive outline. It ought to
+serve as an example to its author's countrymen.
+
+It is in a way an anatomy of melancholy. It is written throughout in the
+minor key, and the atmosphere of melancholy envelops it with as much
+natural charm as though it were a beautiful piece of music. The book is
+profoundly sad, without any false sentiment and without any revolting
+coarseness. It is as far removed from the silly sentimentality so
+common in Teutonic fiction, as it is from the filth of Zola or of Gorky.
+The deep melancholy of the story is as natural to it as a cloudy sky.
+The characters live and move and have their being in this grey medium,
+which fits them like a garment; just as in the early tales of Bjoernson
+we feel the strong sunshine and the sharp air. The early environment of
+the young author, the depressing landscape of his boyhood days, the
+daily fight with grim want in his father's house--all these elements are
+faithfully reflected here, and lend their colour to the narrative. And
+this surrounding melancholy, though it overshadows the whole book, is
+made to serve an artistic purpose. It contrasts favourably with Ibsen's
+harsh bitterness, with Gorky's maudlin dreariness, and with the
+hysterical outbursts of pessimism from the manikins who try to see life
+from the mighty shoulders of Schopenhauer. At the very heart of the work
+we find no sentiment of revolt against life, and no cry of despair, but
+true tenderness and broad sympathy. It is the clear expression of a
+rich, warm nature.
+
+The story is realistic, with a veil of Romanticism. The various scenes
+of the tale seem almost photographically real. The daily life on the
+farm, the struggles with the agricultural machine, the peat-bogs, the
+childish experiences at school, the brutality of the boys, the graphic
+picture of the funeral,--these would not be out of place in a genuine
+experimental novel. But we see everything through an imaginative medium,
+like the impalpable silver-grey mist on the paintings of Andrea del
+Sarto. The way in which the difficult conception of _Frau Sorge_--part
+woman, part vague abstraction--is managed, reminds one in its shadowy
+nature of Nathaniel Hawthorne. This might have been done clumsily, as in
+a crude fairy-tale, but it exhibits the most subtle art. The first
+description of Frau Sorge by the mother, the boy's first glimpse of the
+supernatural woman, his father's overcoat, the Magdalene in church, the
+flutter of Frau Sorge's wings,--all this gives us a realistic story, and
+yet takes us into the borderland between the actual and the unknown.
+From one point of view we have a plain narrative of fact; from another
+an imaginative poem, and at the end we feel that both have been
+marvellously blended.
+
+The simplicity of the style gives the novel a high rank in German prose.
+It has that naive quality wherein the Germans so greatly excel writers
+in other languages. It is a surprising fact that this tongue, so full of
+difficulties for foreigners, and which seems often so confused and
+involved, can, in the hands of a master, be made to speak like a little
+child. The literary style of _Frau Sorge_ is naive without ever being
+trivial or absurd. It is pleasant to observe, by the way, that to some
+extent this book is filling the place in American educational programmes
+of German that _L'Abbe Constantin_ has for so long a time occupied in
+early studies of French. Both novels are masterpieces of simplicity.
+
+But what we remember the most vividly, years after we have finished this
+story, is not its scenic background, nor its unearthly charm, nor the
+grace of its style; it is the character and temperament of the boy-hero.
+It is the first, and possibly the best, of Sudermann's remarkable
+psychological studies. The whole interest is centred in young Paul. He
+is not exactly the normal type of growing boy,--compare him with Tom
+Sawyer!--but because he is not ordinary, it does not follow that he is
+unnatural. To many thoroughly respectable Philistine readers, he may
+appear not only abnormal, but impossible; but the book was not intended
+for Philistines. I believe that this boy is absolutely true to life,
+though I do not recall at this moment any other novel where this
+particular kind of youth occupies the centre of the stage.
+
+For _Frau Sorge_ is a careful study and analysis of _bashfulness_, a
+characteristic that causes more exquisite torture to many boys and girls
+than is commonly recognised. Many of us, when we laugh at a boy's
+bashfulness, are brutal, when we mean to be merely jocular. Paul is
+intensely self-conscious. He is not at all like a healthy, practical,
+objective child, brought up in a large family, and surrounded by the
+noisy progeny of neighbours. His life is perforcedly largely subjective.
+He would give anything could he associate with schoolmates with the ease
+that makes a popular boy sure of his welcome. His accursed timidity
+makes him invariably show his most awkward and unattractive side. He is
+not in the least a _Weltkind_. He has none of the coarseness and none of
+the clever shirking of work and study so characteristic of the perfectly
+normal small boy. He does his duty _without any reservations_, and
+without understanding why. The narrative of his mental life is deeply
+pathetic. It is impossible to read the book without a lump in the
+throat.
+
+Paul is finally saved from himself by the redeeming power of love. The
+little heroine Elsbeth is shadowy,--a merely conventional picture of
+hair, complexion, and eyes,--but she is, after all, _das Ewigweibliche_,
+and draws Paul upward and onward. She rescues him from the Slough of
+Despond. There is no touch of cynicism here. Sudermann shows us the
+healing power of a good woman's heart.
+
+The next novel, _Der Katzensteg_, is more pretentious than _Frau Sorge_,
+but not nearly so fine a book. It abounds in dramatic scenes, and glows
+with fierce passion. It seems more like a melodrama than a story, and
+it is not surprising that its author immediately discovered--perhaps in
+the very composition of this romance--his genius for the stage. It is a
+historical novel, but the chief interest, as always in Sudermann, is
+psychological. The element of Contrast--so essential to true drama, and
+which is so strikingly employed in _Die Ehre_, _Sodoms Ende_, _Heimat_,
+and _Johannes_--is the mainspring of _Der Katzensteg_. We have here the
+irrepressible conflict between the artificial and the natural. The
+heroine of the story is a veritable child of nature, with absolutely
+elemental passions, as completely removed from civilisation as a wild
+beast. She was formerly the mistress of the hero's father, and for a
+long time is naturally regarded with loathing by the son. But she
+transfers her dog-like fidelity from the dead parent to the morbid scion
+of the house. The more cruelly the young man treats her, the deeper
+becomes her love for him. Nor does he at first suspect the hold she has
+on his heart. He imagines himself to be in love with the pastor's
+daughter in the village, who has been brought up like a hothouse plant.
+This simpering, affected girl, who has had all the advantages of careful
+nurture and education, is throughout the story contrasted with the wild
+flower, Regina. The contrast is thorough--mental, moral, physical. The
+educated girl has no real mind; she has only accomplishments. Her
+morality has nothing to do with the heart; it is a bundle of
+conventions. And finally, while Regina has a magnificent, voluptuous
+physique, the hero discovers--by the light of the moon--that the lady of
+his dreams is too thin! This is unendurable. He rushes away from the
+town to the heights where stands his lonely dwelling, cursing himself
+for his folly in being so long blind to the wonderful charm and devotion
+of the passionate girl who, he feels sure, is waiting for him. He
+hastens on the very wings of love, wild with his new-found happiness.
+But the very fidelity of the child of nature has caused her death. She
+stood out on the bridge--_der Katzensteg_--to warn her lover of his
+danger. There she is shot by her drunken father, and the impatient lover
+sees her dead body in the stream below.
+
+Now he has leisure to reflect on what a fool he has been. He sees how
+much nobler are natural passions than artificial conventions. Regina had
+lived "on the other side of good and evil," knowing and caring nothing
+for the standards of society. The entire significance of the novel is
+summed up in this paragraph:--
+
+     "And as he thought and pondered, it seemed to him as if the clouds
+     which separate the foundations of human being from human
+     consciousness" (that is, things as they are from our conceptions of
+     them,--_den Boden des menschlichen Seins vom menschlichen
+     Bewusstsein_) "were dispersed, and he saw a space deeper than men
+     commonly see, into the depths of the unconscious. That which men
+     call Good and Bad, moved restless in the clouds around the surface;
+     below, in dreaming strength, lay the _Natural_ (_das Natuerliche_).
+     'Whom Nature has blessed,' he said to himself, 'him she lets safely
+     grow in her dark depths and allows him to struggle boldly toward
+     the light, without the clouds of Wisdom and Error surrounding and
+     bewildering him.'"
+
+But there is nothing new or original in this doctrine, however daring it
+may be. One can find it all in Nietzsche and in Rousseau. The best thing
+about the novel is that it once more illustrates Sudermann's sympathy
+for the outcast and the despised.
+
+An extraordinarily powerful study in morbid psychology is shown in one
+of his short stories, called _Der Wunsch_. The tale is told backward. It
+begins with the discovery of a horrible suicide, the explanation of
+which is furnished to the prostrated lover by the dead woman's
+manuscript. A man and his wife, at first happily married, encounter the
+dreadful obstacles of poverty and disease; the fatal illness of his wife
+plunges the husband into a hard, bitter melancholy. From this he is
+partially saved by the appearance of his wife's younger sister on the
+scene, who comes to take care of the sick woman. The close companionship
+of the two, previously fond of each other, and now united daily by their
+care of the invalid, results in love; but both are absolutely loyal to
+the suffering wife. They cannot help thinking, however, of the wonderful
+happiness that might be theirs, were the man free; nevertheless, they do
+everything possible to solace the last hours of the woman for whom they
+feel an immense compassion. One night, as the sister watches at the
+bedside, and gazes on the face of her sister, she suddenly feels the
+uncontrollable and fatal _wish_--"Would that she might die!" She is so
+smitten with remorse that after the death of the invalid she commits
+suicide. For although her wish had nothing to do with this event, she
+nevertheless regards herself as a murderer, and goes to self-execution.
+The physician remarks that this psychological _wish_ is not uncommon;
+that during his professional services he has often seen it legibly
+written on the faces of relatives by the bedside--sometimes actuated by
+avarice, sometimes by other forms of personal greed.
+
+The next regular novel, _Es War_, is the study of a past sin on a man's
+character, temperament, and conduct. The hero, Leo, has committed
+adultery with the wife of a disagreeable husband, and, being challenged
+by the latter to a duel, has killed him. Thus having broken two of the
+commandments, he departs for South America, where for four years he
+lives a joyous, care-free, savage existence, with murder and sensuality
+a regular part of the day's work. It is perhaps a little hard on South
+America that Leo could live there in such liberty and return to Germany
+unscathed by the arm of the law; but this is essential to the story. He
+returns a kind of Superman, rejoicing in his magnificent health and
+absolutely determined to repent nothing. He will not allow the past to
+obscure his happiness. But unfortunately his friend Ulrich, whom he has
+loved since childhood with an affection passing the love of women, has
+married the guilty widow, in blissful unconsciousness of his friend's
+guilt. And here the story opens. It is a long, depressing, but intensely
+interesting tale. At the very close, when it seems that wholesale
+tragedy is inevitable, the clouds lift, and Leo, who has found the Past
+stronger than he, regains something of the cheerfulness that
+characterises his first appearance in the narrative. Nevertheless _es
+war_; the Past cannot be lightly tossed aside or forgotten. It comes
+near wrecking the lives of every important character in the novel. Yet
+the idea at the end seems to be that although sin entails fearful
+punishment, and the scars can never be obliterated, it is possible to
+triumph over it and find happiness once more. The most beautiful and
+impressive thing in _Es War_ is the friendship between the two men--so
+different in temperament and so passionately devoted to each other. A
+large group of characters is splendidly kept in hand, and each is
+individual and clearly drawn. One can never forget the gluttonous,
+wine-bibbing Parson, who comes eating and drinking, but who is a terror
+to publicans and sinners.
+
+Last year appeared _Das hohe Lied_, which, although it lacks the morbid
+horror of much of Sudermann's work, is the most pessimistic book he has
+ever written. The irony of the title is the motive of the whole novel.
+Between the covers of this thick volume we find the entire detailed
+life-history of a woman. She passes through much debauchery, and we
+follow her into many places where we should hesitate to penetrate in
+real life. But the steps in her degradation are not put in, as they so
+often are in Guy de Maupassant, merely to lend spice to the narrative;
+every event has a definite influence on the heroine's character. The
+story, although very long, is strikingly similar to that in a recent
+successful American play, _The Easiest Way_. Lilly Czepanek is not
+naturally base or depraved. The manuscript roll of her father's musical
+composition, _Das hohe Lied_, which she carries with her from childhood
+until her final submission to circumstances, and which saves her body
+from suicide but not her soul from death, is emblematic of the _elan_
+which she has in her heart. With the best intentions in the world, with
+noble, romantic sentiments, with a passionate desire to be a rescuing
+angel to the men and women whom she meets, she gradually sinks in the
+mire, until, at the end, her case is hopeless. She struggles
+desperately, but each struggle finds her stock of resistance reduced.
+She always ends by taking the easiest way. Like a person in a quicksand,
+every effort to escape sinks the body deeper; or, like a drowning man,
+the more he raises his hands to heaven, the more speedy is his
+destruction. Much of Lilly's degradation is caused by what she believes
+to be an elevating altruistic impulse. And when she finally meets the
+only man in her whole career who respects her in his heart, who really
+means well by her, and whose salvation she can accomplish along with her
+own,--one single evening, where she begins with the best of intentions
+and with a sincere effort toward a higher plane, results in complete
+damnation. Then, like the heroine in _The Easiest Way_, she determines
+to commit suicide, and really means to do it. But the same weakness that
+has made it hitherto impossible for her to triumph over serious
+obstacles, prevents her from taking this last decisive step. As she
+hears the splash of her talisman in the cold, dark water, she realises
+that she is not the stuff of which heroines are made, either in life or
+in death.
+
+     "And as she heard that sound, then she knew instantly that she
+     would _never_ do it.--No indeed! Lilly Czepanek was _no_ Heroine.
+     _No_ martyr of her love was Lilly Czepanek. No Isolde, who in the
+     determination not to be, sees the highest self-assertion. She was
+     only a poor brittle, crushed, broken thing, who must drag along
+     through her days as best she can."
+
+And with this realisation she goes wearily back to a rich lover she had
+definitely forsaken, knowing that in saving her life she has now lost it
+for ever.
+
+This is the last page of the story, but unfortunately it does not end
+here. Herr Sudermann has chosen to add one paragraph after the word
+"_Schluss_." By this we learn that in the spring of the following year
+the aforesaid rich lover _marries_ Lilly, and takes her on a bridal trip
+to Italy, which all her life had been in her dreams the celestial
+country. She is thus saved from the awful fate of the streets, which
+during the whole book had loomed threatening in the distance. But this
+ending leaves us completely bewildered and depressed. It seems to imply
+that, after all, these successive steps in moral decline do not make
+much difference, one way or the other; for at the very beginning of her
+career she could not possibly have hoped for any better material fate
+than this. The reader not only feels cheated; he feels that the moral
+element in the story, which through all the scenes of vice has been made
+clear, is now laughed at by the author. This is why I call the book the
+most pessimistic of all Sudermann's writings. A novel may take us
+through woe and sin, and yet not produce any impression of cynicism;
+but one that makes a careful, serious study of subtle moral decay
+through over six hundred pages, and then implies at the end that the
+distinction between vice and virtue is, after all, a matter of no
+consequence, leaves an impression for which the proverbial "bad taste in
+the mouth" is utterly inadequate to describe. Some years ago, Professor
+Heller, in an admirable book on Modern German Literature, remarked, in a
+comparison between Hauptmann and Sudermann, that the former has no
+working theory of life, which the latter possessed. That Hauptmann's
+dramas offer no solution, merely giving sordid wretchedness; while
+Sudermann shows the conquest of environment by character. Or, as Mr.
+Heller puts it, there is the contrast between the "driving and the
+drifting." I think this distinction in the main will justify itself to
+anyone who makes a thoughtful comparison of the work of these two
+remarkable men. Despite the depreciation of Sudermann and the idolatry
+of Hauptmann, an attitude so fashionable among German critics at
+present, I believe that the works of the former have shown a stronger
+grasp of life. But the final paragraph of _Das hohe Lied_ is a
+staggering blow to those of us who have felt that Sudermann had some
+kind of a _Weltanschauung_. It is like Chopin's final movement in his
+great Sonata; mocking laughter follows the solemn tones of the Funeral
+March.
+
+Up to this last bad business, _Das hohe Lied_ exhibits that
+extraordinary power of psychological analysis that we have come to
+expect from Sudermann. Lilly, apart from her personal beauty, is not,
+after all, an interesting girl; her mind is thoroughly shallow and
+commonplace. Nor are the numerous adventures through which she passes
+particularly interesting. And yet the long book is by no means dull, and
+one reads it with steady attention. The reason for this becomes clear,
+after some reflexion. Not only are we absorbed by the contemplation of
+so masterly a piece of mental analysis, but what interests us most is
+the constant attempt of Lilly to analyse herself. We often wonder how
+people appear to themselves. The unspoken dialogues between Lilly and
+her own soul are amazingly well done. She is constantly surprised by
+herself, constantly bewildered by the fact that what she thought was one
+set of motives, turns out to be quite otherwise. All this comes to a
+great climax in the scene late at night when she writes first one
+letter, then another--each one meaning to be genuinely confessional.
+Each letter is to give an absolutely faithful account of her life, with
+a perfectly truthful depiction of her real character. Now the two
+letters are so different that in one she appears to be a low-lived
+adventuress, and in the other a noble woman, deceived through what is
+noblest in her. Finally she tears both up, for she realises that
+although each letter gives the facts, neither tells the truth. And then
+she sees that the truth cannot be told; that life is far too complex to
+be put into language.
+
+In the attempts of German critics years ago to "classify" Sudermann, he
+was commonly placed in one of the three following groups. Many insisted
+that he was merely a Decadent, whose pleasure it was to deal in
+unhealthy social problems. That his interest in humanity was
+pathological. Others held that he was a fierce social Reformer, a kind
+of John the Baptist, who wished to reconstruct modern society along
+better lines, and who was therefore determined to make society realise
+its own rottenness. He was primarily a Satirist, not a Decadent.
+Professor Calvin Thomas quoted (without approbation) Professor Litzmann
+of Bonn, who said that Sudermann was "a born satirist, not one of the
+tame sort who only tickle and scratch, but one of the stamp of Juvenal,
+who swings his scourge with fierce satisfaction so that the blood starts
+from the soft, voluptuous flesh." A reading of _Das hohe Lied_ will
+convince anyone that Sudermann, wherever he is, is not among the
+prophets. Finally, there were many critics who at the very start
+recognised Sudermann as primarily an artist, who chooses to paint the
+aspects of life that interest him. This is undoubtedly the true
+viewpoint. We may regret that he prefers to analyse human characters in
+morbid and abnormal development, but that, after all, is his affair, and
+we do not have to read him unless we wish to. Professor Thomas, in an
+admirable article on _Das Glueck im Winkel_, contributed in 1895 to the
+New York _Nation_, said, "Sudermann is a man of the world, a
+psychologist, and an artist, not a voice crying in the wilderness. The
+immortality of Juvenal or Jeremiah would not be to his taste." It is
+vain to quarrel with the direction taken by genius; however much we may
+deplore its course. Sudermann is one of the greatest, if not the
+greatest, of Germany's living writers, and every play or novel from his
+pen contains much material for serious thought.
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+ALFRED OLLIVANT
+
+
+In the month of September, 1898, there appeared in America a novel with
+the attractive title, _Bob, Son of Battle_. Unheralded by author's fame
+or by the blare of advertisement, it was at first unnoticed; but in
+about a twelvemonth everybody was talking about it. It became one of the
+"best sellers"; unlike its companions, it has not vanished with the
+snows of yesteryear. At this moment it is being read and reread all over
+the United States. I do not believe there is a single large town in our
+country where the book is unknown, or where a reference to it fails to
+bring to the faces of intelligent people that glow of reminiscent
+delight aroused by the memory of happy hours passed in the world of
+imagination. It seemed so immensely superior to the ordinary run of new
+novels, that we gazed with pardonable curiosity at the unfamiliar
+signature on the title-page. Who was this writer who knew so much of the
+nature of dogs and men? Where had he found that extraordinarily vivid
+style, and what experiences had he passed through that gave him his
+subtle insight into character? But all that we could then discover was
+that Alfred Ollivant was an Englishman, and that _Bob_ was his first
+novel. We decided that he must have lived long, observed all kinds of
+dogs, and a large variety of men, women, and children; and that for some
+reason best known to himself he had chosen to print nothing until he had
+descended into the vale of years. For only the other day we were not
+surprised to find that _Joseph Vance_ was the winter fruit of a man
+nearly seventy; that book at any rate was the expression of a man who
+had had life, and had it abundantly.
+
+Our astonishment was keen indeed when we learned that the author of
+_Bob_ was a boy just out of his teens, who had written his wonderful
+book in horizontal pain and weakness. He had entered the army, receiving
+his commission as a cavalry officer in 1893, at the age of nineteen; a
+few weeks after this event, a fall from his horse injured his spine,
+previously affected by some mysterious malady; this accident abruptly
+checked his chosen military career, and made him a man of letters.
+Literature owes a great deal to enforced idleness, whether the writer be
+sick or in prison. The wind bloweth where it listeth; and we perceived
+once more that genius does not always accompany good health, or
+maturity, or ambition; it seems to select with absolute caprice the
+individuals through whom it speaks. And so this first-born child of the
+brain was delivered, like human infants, on a bed of suffering; being,
+to complete the analogy, none the less healthy on that account. The book
+was begun in 1894, when the author was twenty years old; during
+intervals of physical capacity in 1895 and 1896, it was continued, and
+was submitted to the publishers in 1897.
+
+It was to have been published in the autumn, but the London firm decided
+to postpone its appearance one year. The author employed these months in
+completely rewriting the story, which he had named _Owd Bob_. Meanwhile,
+the New York publishers, who had a copy of the original manuscript,
+fearing that the title _Owd Bob_ lacked magnetism, wisely rechristened
+it _Bob, Son of Battle_. And so, in September, 1898, the novel in its
+first form, but with a new name, was printed in America; simultaneously
+in England it appeared in a new form, but with the old name. In other
+words, the London first edition, _Owd Bob_, is a thoroughly revised
+version of the American first edition, _Bob, Son of Battle_, although
+they were published at the same time. It does not seem as though the
+author could have improved a book that so completely satisfies us as it
+stands; and Americans, to whom _Owd Bob_ is unknown, may not believe
+that it can be superior to _Bob, Son of Battle_. Nevertheless it is. The
+two versions are of course alike in general features of the plot and in
+outline; but no one who has read both can hesitate an instant. One has
+only to compare the manner in which Red Wull made his _debut_ in America
+with the chapter where he first appears (in a totally different way) in
+the English edition, to see how clearly second thoughts were best.
+
+And yet, despite the enormous popularity of _Bob, Son of Battle_ in the
+United States, and despite the fact that Englishmen had the opportunity
+to read the story in a still finer form, it has not until very recently
+made any impression on British readers or on London critics. Is it
+possible that a book, like a dog, may be killed by a bad name? The novel
+was written by an Englishman, the scenes were laid in Britain, it dealt
+with manners and customs peculiarly English, and it was aimed directly
+at an English public. And yet, for nearly ten years after its
+publication, _Owd Bob_ remained in obscurity.[12] But its day is coming,
+and the prophet will yet receive honour in his own country. In 1908 it
+was reprinted in a seven-pence edition, of which fifty thousand copies
+have already seen the light. This is nothing to the American
+circulation; but it is promising. Bearing in mind the futility of
+literary prophecy, I still believe that the day will come when _Owd Bob_
+will be generally recognised as belonging to English literature.
+
+[12] A year or two ago I asked one of the foremost English dramatists,
+one of the foremost English novelists, and one of the foremost English
+critics, men whose names are known everywhere in America, if they had
+read _Bob_; not one of them had ever heard of the book.
+
+The splendid fidelity and devotion of the dog to his master have
+certainly been in part repaid by men of letters in all stages of the
+world's history. A valuable essay might be written on the dog's
+contributions to literature; in the poetry of the East, hundreds of
+years before Christ, the poor Indian insisted that his four-footed
+friend should accompany him into eternity. We know that this bit of
+Oriental pathos impressed Pope:--
+
+    "But thinks, admitted to that equal sky,
+     His faithful dog shall bear him company."
+
+One of the most profoundly affecting incidents in the _Odyssey_ is the
+recognition of the ragged Ulysses by the noble old dog, who dies of joy.
+During the last half-century, since the publication of Dr. John Brown's
+_Rab and his Friends_ (1858), the dog has approached an apotheosis.
+Among innumerable sketches and stories with canine heroes may be
+mentioned Bret Harte's brilliant portrait of _Boonder_; Maeterlinck's
+essay on dogs; Richard Harding Davis's _The Bar Sinister_; Stevenson's
+whimsical comments on _The Character of Dogs_; Kipling's _Garm_; and
+Jack London's initial success, _The Call of the Wild_.[13] But all these
+latter-day pamphlets, good as they are, fail to reach the excellence of
+_Bob, Son of Battle_. It is the best dog story ever written, and it
+inspires regret that dogs cannot read.
+
+[13] One may fairly class with this literature the remarkable speech on
+dogs delivered in his youth in a courtroom by the late Senator Vest. The
+speech won the case against the evidence.
+
+No one who knows Mr. Ollivant's tale can by any possibility forget the
+Grey Dog of Kenmuir--the perfect, gentle knight--or the thrilling
+excitement of his successful struggles for the cup. He is indeed a noble
+and beautiful character, with the Christian combination of serpent and
+dove. But Owd Bob in a slight degree shares the fate of all beings who
+approach moral perfection. He reminds us at times of Tennyson's Arthur
+in the _Idylls of the King_, though he fortunately delivers no lectures.
+Lancelot was wicked, and Arthur was good; but Lancelot has the touch of
+earth that makes him interesting, and Arthur has more than a touch of
+boredom. In _Paradise Lost_ the spotless Raphael does not compare in
+charm with the picturesque Foe of God and Man. The real hero in Milton,
+as I suspect the poet very well knew, is the Devil; and if Mr. Ollivant
+had ignored both English and American godfathers, and called his novel
+_The Tailless Tyke_, no reader could have objected. Red Wull is the
+Satan of this canine epic; he has for us a fascination at once horrible
+and irresistible. The author seems to have felt that the Grey Dog was
+overshadowed; and he has saved our active sympathy for him by the clever
+device of making him at one time dangerously ill, when we realise how
+much we love him; and finally by throwing him under awful suspicion,
+that we may experience--as we certainly do--the enormous relief of
+beholding him guiltless. But in spite of our best instincts, Red Wull is
+the protagonist. Dog and master have never been matched in a more
+sinister manner than Adam McAdam and the Tailless Tyke. Bill Sikes and
+his companion are nothing to it, and we cannot help remembering that to
+the eternal disgrace of dogs, Bill Sikes's last friend forsook him.
+Compared with Red Wull, the Hound of the Baskervilles is a pet lapdog.
+When Adam and Wullie appear upon the scene, we look alive, even as their
+virtuous enemies were forced to do, for we know something is bound to
+happen. When the little man is greeted with a concert of hoots and
+jeers, we cannot repress some sympathy for him, akin to our feeling
+toward the would-be murderer Shylock, silent and solitary under the
+noisy taunts of the feather-headed Gratiano. This bitter and lonely
+wretch is a real character, and his strange personality is presented
+with extraordinary skill. There is not a single false touch from first
+to last; and the little man with the big dog abides in our memory. Red
+Wull is the hero of a hundred fights; his tremendous and terrible
+exploits are the very essence of piratical romance. After he has slain
+the two huge beasts of the showman, McAdam exclaims with a sob of
+paternal pride, "Ye play so rough, Wullie!"
+
+And the death of the Tailless Tyke is positively Homeric. The other
+dogs, all his ruthless enemies, whisper to each other and silently steal
+from the room. They know that the hour has struck, and that this will be
+the last fight. The whole pack set upon him, each one goaded by the
+remembrance of some murdered relative, or by some humiliating scar. Red
+Wull asks nothing better than meeting them all; and the unequal combat
+becomes a frightful carnage. At the very end, as much exhausted by the
+labour of killing as by his own wounds, the great dog--now red
+indeed--hears his master's familiar cry, "Wullie, to me!" and with a
+super-canine effort he raises his dying form from the bottom of the
+writhing mass, shakes off the surviving foes, and slowly staggers to
+McAdam's feet. Like Samson, the dead which he slew at his death were
+more than they which he slew in his life.
+
+Mr. Ollivant's next book, _Danny_, also a dog story, was not nearly so
+effective. The human characters command the most attention, though the
+old man with the weeping eye becomes a bit wearisome. The passages of
+pure nature description are often exquisitely written, and prove that at
+heart the author is a poet. But in the narrative portions there is an
+unfortunate attempt to conceal the slightness of the story by preciosity
+and affectation in the style. For the simple truth is that in _Danny_
+there is no story worth the telling. We recall distinctly the lovely
+young wife and her grim ironclad of a husband, but just what happened
+between the covers of the book escapes us. Although Mr. Ollivant
+believes in _Danny_, in spite of or because of its lack of popularity,
+he was so dissatisfied with the American edition that he suppressed it.
+Such an act is an indication of the high artistic standard that he has
+set for himself; ambitious as he is, he would rather merit fame than
+have it.
+
+While the readers of _Bob_ and of _Danny_ were guessing what kind of a
+dog the young author would select for his next novel, he surprised us
+all by writing an uncaninical work. This story, adorned with happy
+illustrations, and printed in big type, as though for the eyes of
+children, was called _Red-Coat Captain_, and was enigmatically located
+in "That Country." Every American publisher to whom the manuscript was
+offered, rejected it, saying emphatically that it was nonsense; and if
+there had not been a strain of idealism in the Head of the firm that
+reconsidered and finally printed it, the book would probably never have
+felt the press. Mr. Ollivant was sure that the story would appeal at
+first only to a very few, and he requested the publisher not only to
+refrain from issuing any advertisement, but to make the entire first
+edition consist of only three copies--one for the archives of the House,
+one for the author, and one for a believing friend. The children of this
+world are wiser in their generation than the children of light; and the
+shrewd man of business did not take the petition very seriously. The
+verdict Nonsense has been loudly ratified by many reviewers and readers;
+to the few it has been wisdom, to the many foolishness. For, as was said
+years ago of a certain poem, "The capacity to understand such a work
+must be spiritual." It matters not how clever one may be, how well read,
+how sensitive to artistic beauties and defects; qualities of a totally
+different nature must be present, and even then the time and place must
+be right, if one is to seize the inner meaning of _Red-Coat Captain_. I
+was about to say, the inner meaning of a story _like_ _Red-Coat
+Captain_, but I was stopped by the thought that no story like it has
+ever been published, and perhaps never will be. Both conception and
+expression are profoundly original, and, in spite of some failure of
+articulation, the work is strongly marked with genius. It is an allegory
+based on the eleventh and twelfth commandments, which we have good
+authority for believing are worth all the ten put together. From one
+point of view it is a book for children; the mysterious setting of the
+tale is sure to appeal to certain imaginative boys and girls. But the
+early chapters, dealing with the pretty courtship and the honeymoon,
+will be fully appreciated only by those who have some years to their
+credit or otherwise. There is in this story the ineffable charm and
+fragrance of purity. It is the lily in its author's garden.
+
+Mr. Ollivant's latest novel is the most conventional of the four, and
+wholly unlike any of its predecessors. It is a rattling, riotous
+romance, placed in the troublous times of the Napoleonic wars. The
+mighty shadow of Nelson falls darkly across the narrative, but the
+author has not committed the sin--so common in historical romances--of
+making a historical character the chief of the _dramatis personae_. The
+title role is played by _The Gentleman_, and he is a hero worthy of
+Cooper or of Stevenson. Marked by reckless audacity, brilliant in
+swordplay and in horsemanship, clever in turn of speech, gifted with the
+manner of a pre-Revolution Duke--what more in the heroic line can a
+reader desire? The architecture of the novel and the staccato paragraphs
+infallibly remind one of Victor Hugo, whom, however, Mr. Ollivant does
+not know. Nor, outside of the works of Stevenson, have we ever seen a
+story minus love so steadily interesting. It is an amphibious book, and
+those who like fighting on land and sea may have their fill. The
+percentage of mortality is high; soldiers and sailors die numerously,
+and the hideous details of death are worthy of _La Debacle_; there is a
+welter of gore. If this were all that could be said, if the fascination
+of this romance depended wholly on the crowded action, it would simply
+be one more exciting tale added to the hundreds published every year;
+good to read on train and turbine, but not worth serious attention or
+criticism. But the incidents, while frequent and thrilling, are not, at
+least to the discriminating reader, the main thing, as the Germans say.
+Nor is the construction, clever enough, nor the characters, real as they
+are; the main thing is the style, which, quite different from that in
+his former books, is yet all his own. The style, in the best sense of
+the word, is pictorial; it transforms the past into the present. The
+succession of events rolls off like a glowing panorama. It is perhaps
+natural that many reviewers should have praised _The Gentleman_ more
+highly than all the rest of Mr. Ollivant's work put together; but,
+notwithstanding its wider appeal, it lacks the permanent qualities of
+_Bob_, and (I believe) of _Red-Coat Captain_, for they are original.
+
+That Mr. Ollivant is now on the road to physical health will be good
+news. He has already done work that no one else can do, and we cannot
+spare him. His four novels indicate versatility as well as much greater
+gifts; and he should be watched by all who take an interest in
+contemporary literature and who believe that the future is as rich as
+the past. _Bob_ looks like the best English novel that has appeared
+between _Tess of the D'Urbervilles_ in 1891, and _Joseph Vance_ in 1906.
+Nothing but bodily obstacles can prevent its author from going far.
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON
+
+
+Stevenson spent his life, like an only and lonely child, in playing
+games with himself. Most boys who read romances have the dramatic
+instinct; they must forthwith incarnate the memories of their reading,
+and anything will do for a _mise en scene_. The mudpuddle becomes an
+ocean, where the pirate ship is launched; a scrubby apple tree has
+infinite possibilities. Armed with a wooden sword, the child sallies
+forth in the rain, and fiercely cuts down the mulleins; could we only
+see him without being seen, we should observe the wild light in his eye,
+and the frown of battle on his brow. He walks cautiously in the
+underbrush, to surprise the ambushed foe; and it is with rapture that he
+goes to sleep in a tent, pitched six yards from the kitchen door. This
+spirit of adventure remains in some men's hearts, even after the hair
+has grown grey or gone; they hear the call of the wild, lock up the
+desk, go into the woods, and there rejoice in a process of
+decivilisation.
+
+In order to enjoy life, one must love it; and nobody ever loved life
+more than Stevenson. "It is better to be a fool than to be dead," said
+he. To him the world was always picturesque, whether he saw it through
+the mists of Edinburgh, or amid the snows of Davos, or in the tropical
+heat of Samoa. "Where is Samoa?" asked a friend. "Go out of the Golden
+Gate," replied Stevenson, "and take the first turn to the left." This
+counsel makes up in joyous imagination what it lacks in latitude and
+longitude. Everything in Stevenson's bodily and mental life was an
+adventure, to be begun in a spirit of reckless enthusiasm. In his
+travels with a donkey, he was a beloved vagabond, whose wayside
+acquaintances are to be envied; in compulsory expeditions in search of
+health, he set out with as much zest as though he were after buried
+treasure; everything was an adventure, and his marriage was the greatest
+adventure of all. He read books with the same enthusiasm with which he
+tramped, or paddled in a canoe; every new novel he opened with the
+spirit of an explorer, for who knows in its pages what people one may
+meet? William Archer sent him a copy of Bernard Shaw's story, _Cashel
+Byron's Profession_, and Stevenson wrote in reply from Saranac Lake,
+"Over Bashville the footman I howled with derision and delight; I dote
+on Bashville--I could read of him for ever; _de Bashville je suis le
+fervent_--there is only one Bashville, and I am his devoted slave....
+It is all mad, mad and deliriously delightful.... It is HORRID FUN....
+(I say, Archer, my God, what women!)" What would authors give for a
+reading public like that?
+
+Prone in bed, when his attention was not diverted by a hemorrhage, he
+lived amid the pageantry of gorgeous day-dreams, presented on the stage
+of his brain. We know that Ben Jonson saw the Romans and Carthaginians
+fighting, marching and countermarching, across his great toe. Stevenson
+would have understood this perfectly. No pain or sickness ever daunted
+him, or held him captive; his mind was always in some picturesque or
+immensely interesting place. In composition, he seemed to have a double
+consciousness; he moulded his sentences with the fastidious care of a
+great artist; at the same moment he felt the growing sea-breeze, and
+knew that his hero would very soon have to shorten sail.
+
+It is pleasant to remember that a man who had such genius for
+friendship, who so generously admired the literary work of his
+contemporaries, and who loved the whole world of saints and sinners,
+received such widespread homage in return. His career as a man of
+letters extended over twenty years; and during the last eight his name
+was actually a household word. To be sure, he published much work of a
+high order without getting even a hearing; his _Inland Voyage_,
+_Travels with a Donkey_, _Virginibus Puerisque_, _Familiar Studies_,
+_New Arabian Nights_, and even _Treasure Island_, attracted very little
+attention; he remained in obscurity. But when, in the year 1886,
+appeared the _Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde_, he found himself
+famous; the thrilling excitement of the story, combined with its
+powerful moral appeal, simply conquered the world. And although his own
+plays were failures, he had the satisfaction of knowing that thousands
+of people in theatres were spellbound by the modern Morality made out of
+his novel. Few writers have become "classics" in so short a time; during
+the years that remained to him, he was compelled to prepare a superb
+edition of his _Complete Works_. Without ever appealing to the animal
+nature of humanity, he had the keen satisfaction of reigning in the
+hearts of uncultivated readers, and of receiving the almost universal
+tribute of refined critics. There are authors who are the delight of a
+bookish few, and there are authors with an enormous public and no
+reputation. There are poets like Donne, and prose-masters like Browne,
+precious to the men and women of patrician taste; and there are some
+familiar examples of the other kind, needless to call by name. Stevenson
+pleases us all; for he always has a good story, and the subtlety of his
+art gives to his narrative imperishable beauty.
+
+Stevenson's appearance as a novelist was in itself an adventure. He
+seemed at first as obsolete as a soldier of fortune. He was as
+unexpected and as picturesque among contemporary writers of fiction as
+an Elizabethan knight in a modern drawing-room. When he placed _Treasure
+Island_ on the literary map, Realism was at its height in some
+localities, and at its depth in others. But it was everywhere the
+standard form, in which young writers strove to embody their visions.
+Zola had just made an address in which he remarked that Walter Scott was
+dead, and that the fashion of his style had passed away. The
+experimental novel would go hand in hand with the advance of scientific
+thought. And there were many who believed that Zola spoke the truth.
+This state of affairs was a tremendous challenge to Stevenson, and he
+accepted it in the spirit of chivalry. The very name of his first novel,
+_Treasure Island_, was like the flying of a flag. Those critics who saw
+it must have smiled, and shaken their wise heads, for had not the time
+for such follies gone by? Stevenson was fully aware of what he was
+doing; in the midst of contemporary fiction he felt as impatient and as
+ill at ease as a boy, imprisoned in a circle of elders, whose
+conversation does not in the least interest him. His sentiments are
+clearly shown in a letter to the late Mr. Henley, written shortly after
+the appearance of _Treasure Island_, and which is important enough to
+quote somewhat fully:--
+
+     "I do desire a book of adventure--a romance--and no man will get or
+     write me one. Dumas I have read and reread too often; Scott, too,
+     and I am short. I want to hear swords clash. I want a book to begin
+     in a good way; a book, I guess, like _Treasure Island_, alas! which
+     I have never read, and cannot though I live to ninety. I would God
+     that someone else had written it! By all that I can learn, it is
+     the very book for my complaint. I like the way I hear it opens; and
+     they tell me John Silver is good fun. And to me it is, and must
+     ever be, a dream unrealised, a book unwritten. O my sighings after
+     romance, or even Skeltery, and O! the weary age which will produce
+     me neither!
+
+
+     CHAPTER I
+
+     The night was damp and cloudy, the ways foul. The single horseman,
+     cloaked and booted, who pursued his way across Willesden Common,
+     had not met a traveller, when the sound of wheels--
+
+
+     CHAPTER I
+
+     'Yes, sir,' said the old pilot, 'she must have dropped into the bay
+     a little afore dawn. A queer craft she looks.'
+
+     'She shows no colours,' returned the young gentleman, musingly.
+
+     'They're a-lowering of a quarter-boat, Mr. Mark,' resumed the old
+     salt. 'We shall soon know more of her.'
+
+     'Ay,' replied the young gentleman called Mark, 'and here, Mr.
+     Seadrift, comes your sweet daughter Nancy tripping down the cliff.'
+
+     'God bless her kind heart, sir,' ejaculated old Seadrift.
+
+
+     CHAPTER I
+
+     The notary, Jean Rossignol, had been summoned to the top of a great
+     house in the Isle St. Louis to make a will; and now, his duties
+     finished, wrapped in a warm roquelaure and with a lantern swinging
+     from one hand, he issued from the mansion on his homeward way.
+     Little did he think what strange adventures were to befall him!--
+
+     That is how stories should begin. And I am offered HUSKS instead.
+
+    What should be:          What is:
+    The Filibuster's Cache.  Aunt Anne's Tea Cosy.
+    Jerry Abershaw.          Mrs. Brierly's Niece.
+    Blood Money: A Tale.     Society: A Novel."
+
+The time was out of joint; but Stevenson was born to set it right. Not
+seven years after the posting of this letter, the recent Romantic
+Revival had begun. In the year of his death, 1894, it was in full swing;
+everybody was reading not only Stevenson, but _The Prisoner of Zenda_,
+_A Gentleman of France_, _Under the Red Robe_, etc. Whatever we may
+think of the literary quality of some of these then popular stories,
+there is no doubt that the change was in many ways beneficial, and that
+the influence of Stevenson was more responsible for it than that of any
+other one man. This was everywhere recognised: in the _Athenaeum_ for 22
+December, 1894, a critic remarked, "The Romantic Revival in the English
+novel of to-day had in him its leader.... But for him they might have
+been Howells and James young men." As a germinal writer, Stevenson will
+always occupy an important place in the history of English prose
+fiction. And seldom has a man been more conscious of his mission.
+
+Stevenson's high standing as an English classic depends very largely on
+the excellence of his literary style, although Scott and Cooper won
+immortality without it. (One wonders if they could to-day.) When some
+fifteen years ago a few critics had the temerity to suggest that he was
+equal, if not superior, to these worthies, it sounded like blasphemy;
+but such an opinion is not uncommon now, and may be reasonably defended.
+Stevenson lacked in some degree the virility and the astonishing
+fertility of invention possessed by Scott; but he exhibited a technical
+skill undreamed of by his great predecessor. From the prefatory verses
+to _Treasure Island_, we know that he admired Cooper; and he loved Sir
+Walter, without being in the least blind to his faults. "It is
+undeniable that the love of the slap-dash and the shoddy grew upon Scott
+with success." He "had not only splendid romantic, but splendid tragic,
+gifts. How comes it, then, that he could so often fob us off with
+languid, inarticulate twaddle?... He was a great day-dreamer, a seer of
+fit and beautiful and humorous visions, but hardly a great artist;
+hardly, in the manful sense, an artist at all." Stevenson seems to have
+felt that Scott's deficiencies in style were not merely artistic, but
+moral; he lacked the patience and the particular kind of industry
+required. Scott loved to tell a good story, but he loved the story
+better than he did the telling of it; Stevenson, on the other hand, was
+fully as much absorbed by the manner of narration as by the narration
+itself. Stevenson was keenly alive to the fact that writers of romances
+did not seem to feel the necessity of style; whereas those who wrote
+novels wherein nothing happened, felt that a good style atoned for both
+the lack of incident and the lack of ideas. Stevenson's articles of
+literary faith apparently included the dogma that a mysterious,
+blood-curdling romance had fully as much dignity as a minute examination
+of the dreary, commonplace life of the submerged; and that the former
+made just as high a demand on the endowment and industry of a
+master-artist. If he had had not an idea in his head, he could not have
+written with more elegance.
+
+There is, of course, some truth in the charge that Stevenson was not
+only a master of style, but a stylist. He is indeed something of a
+macaroni in words; occasionally he struts a bit, and he loves to show
+his brilliant plumes. He performed dexterous tricks with language, like
+a musician with a difficult instrument. He liked style for its own sake,
+and was not averse to exhibiting his technique. In a slight degree, his
+attitude and his influence in mere composition are somewhat similar to
+those of John Lyly three hundred years before. Lyly delighted his
+readers with unexpected quips and quiddities, with a fantastic display
+of rhetoric; he showed, as no one had before him, the possible
+flexibility of English prose. There is more than a touch of Euphuism in
+Stevenson; he was never insincere, but he was consciously fine. Many
+have swallowed without salt his statement that he learned to write by
+imitation; that by the "sedulous ape" method, employed with unwearying
+study of great models, he himself became a successful author. Men of
+genius are never to be trusted when they discuss the origin and
+development of their powers; it is no more to be believed that Stevenson
+learned to be a great writer by imitating Browne, than that _The Raven_
+really reached its perfection in the manner so minutely described by
+Poe. The faithful practice of composition will doubtless help any
+ambitious young man or woman. But Stevensons are not made in that
+fashion. If they were, anyone with plenty of time and patience could
+become a great author. This "ape" remark by Stevenson has had one
+interesting effect; if he imitated others, he has been strenuously
+imitated himself. Probably no recent English writer has been more
+constantly employed for rhetorical purposes, and there is none whose
+influence on style is more evident in the work of contemporary aspirants
+in fiction.
+
+The stories of Stevenson exhibit a double union, as admirable as it is
+rare. They exhibit the union of splendid material with the most delicate
+skill in language; and they exhibit the union of thrilling events with a
+remarkable power of psychological analysis. Every thoughtful reader has
+noticed these combinations; but we sometimes forget that Silver, Alan,
+Henry, and the Master are just as fine examples of character-portrayal
+as can be found in the works of Henry James. It is from this point of
+view that Stevenson is so vastly superior to Fenimore Cooper; just as in
+literary style he so far surpasses Scott. _Treasure Island_ is much
+better than _The Red Rover_ or _The Pirate_; its author actually beat
+Scott and Cooper at their own game. With the exception of _Henry
+Esmond_, Stevenson may perhaps be said to have written the best romances
+in the English language; the undoubted inferiority of any of his books
+to that masterpiece would make an interesting subject for reflexion.
+
+The one thing in which Scott really excelled Stevenson was in the
+depiction of women. The latter has given us no Diana Vernon or Jeannie
+Deans. For the most part, Stevenson's romances are Paradise before the
+creation of Eve. The snake is there, but not the woman. This
+extraordinary absence of sex-interest is a notable feature, and many
+have been the reasons assigned for it. If he had not tried at all, we
+should be safe in saying that, like a small boy, he felt that girls were
+in the way, and he did not want them mussing up his games. There is
+perhaps some truth in this; for the presence of a girl might have ruined
+_Treasure Island_, as it ruined the _Sea Wolf_. Her fuss and feathers
+bring in all sorts of bothersome problems to distract a novelist, bent
+on having a good time with pirates, murders, and hidden treasure.
+Unfortunately for the complete satisfaction of this explanation,
+Stevenson wrote _Prince Otto_, and tried to draw a real woman. The
+result did not add anything to his fame, and, indeed, the whole book
+missed fire. He was unquestionably more successful in _David Balfour_,
+but, when all is said, the presence of women in a few of Stevenson's
+romances is not so impressive as their absence in most. It is only in
+that unfinished work, _Weir of Hermiston_, which gave every promise of
+being one of the greatest novels in English literature, that he seemed
+to have reached full maturity of power in dealing with the master
+passion. The best reason for Stevenson's reserve on matters of sex was
+probably his delicacy; he did not wish to represent this particular
+animal impulse with the same vivid reality he pictured avarice,
+ambition, courage, cowardice, and pride; and thus hampered by
+conscience, he thought it best in the main to omit it altogether. At
+least, this is the way he felt about it, as we may learn from the
+_Vailima Letters_:--
+
+     "This is a poison bad world for the romancer, this Anglo-Saxon
+     world; I usually get out of it by not having any women in it at
+     all." (February, 1892.)
+
+     "I am afraid my touch is a little broad in a love story; I can't
+     mean one thing and write another. As for women, I am no more in any
+     fear of them; I can do a sort all right; age makes me less afraid
+     of a petticoat, but I am a little in fear of grossness. However,
+     this David Balfour's love affair, that's all right--might be read
+     out to a mothers' meeting--or a daughters' meeting. The difficulty
+     in a love yarn, which dwells at all on love, is the dwelling on one
+     string; it is manifold, I grant, but the root fact is there
+     unchanged, and the sentiment being very intense, and already very
+     much handled in letters, positively calls for a little pawing and
+     gracing. With a writer of my prosaic literalness and pertinency of
+     point of view, this all shoves toward grossness--positively even
+     towards the far more damnable _closeness_. This has kept me off the
+     sentiment hitherto, and now I am to try: Lord! Of course Meredith
+     can do it, and so could Shakespeare; but with all my romance, I am
+     a realist and a prosaist, and a most fanatical lover of plain
+     physical sensations plainly and expressly rendered; hence my
+     perils. To do love in the same spirit as I did (for instance) D.
+     Balfour's fatigue in the heather; my dear sir, there were
+     grossness--ready made! And hence, how to sugar?" (May, 1892.)
+
+On the whole, I am inclined to think, that with the omission of the
+fragment, _Weir of Hermiston_, Stevenson's best novel is his
+first--_Treasure Island_. He wrote this with peculiar zest; first of
+all, in spite of the playful dedication, to please himself; second, to
+see if the public appetite for Romance could once more be stimulated. He
+never did anything later quite so off-hand, quite so spontaneous. His
+maturer books, brilliant as they are, lack the peculiar _brightness_ of
+_Treasure Island_. It has more unity than _The Master of Ballantrae_; and
+it has a greater group of characters than _Kidnapped_.
+
+Stevenson told this story in the first person, but, by a clever device,
+he avoided the chief difficulty of that method of narration. The speaker
+is not one of the principal characters in the story, though he shares in
+the most thrilling adventures. We thus have all the advantages of direct
+discourse, all the gain in reality--without a hint as to what will be
+the fate of the leading actors. Stevenson said, in one of the _Vailima
+Letters_, that first-person tales were more in accord with his
+temperament. The purely objective character of this novel is noteworthy,
+and entirely proper, coming from a perfectly normal boy. The _Essays_
+show that Stevenson could be sufficiently introspective if he chose, and
+_Dr. Jekyll_ is really an introspective novel, differing in every way
+from _Treasure Island_. But here we have romantic adventures seen
+through the fresh eyes of boyhood, producing their unconscious reflex
+action on the soul of the narrator, who daily grows in courage and
+self-reliance by grappling with danger. In Henry James's fine and
+penetrating essay on Stevenson, he says of this book, "What we see in it
+is not only the ideal fable, but the young reader himself and his state
+of mind: we seem to read it over his shoulder, with an arm around his
+neck." This particular remark has been much praised; but it seems in a
+way to half-apologise for a man's interest in the story, and to explain
+it like an affectionate uncle's sympathetic interest in a child's game,
+who mainly enjoys the child's enthusiasm. Now I venture to say that no
+one can any more outgrow _Treasure Island_ than he can outgrow _Robinson
+Crusoe_. The events in the story delight children; but it is a book that
+in mature years can be read and reread with ever increasing satisfaction
+and profit. No one needs to regret or to explain his interest in this
+novel; it is nothing to be sorry for, nor does it indicate a low order
+of literary taste. Many serious persons have felt somewhat alarmed by
+their pleasure in reading _Treasure Island_, and have hesitated to
+assign it a high place in fiction. Some have said that, after all, it is
+only a pirate story, differing from the Sleuths and Harkaways merely in
+being better written. But this is exactly the point, and a very
+important point, in criticism. In art, the subject is of comparatively
+little importance, whereas the treatment is the absolute distinguishing
+feature. To insist that there is little difference between _Treasure
+Island_ and any cheap tale of blood-and-thunder, is equivalent to saying
+that there is little difference between the Sistine Madonna and a
+cottage chromo of the Virgin.
+
+Pew is a fearsome personage, and a notable example of the triumph of
+mind over the most serious of all physical disabilities. Theoretically,
+it seems strange that able-bodied individuals should be afraid of a man
+who is stone blind. But the appearance of Pew is enough to make anybody
+take to his heels. He is the very essence of authority and leadership.
+The tap-tapping of his stick in the moonlight makes one's blood run
+cold. We are apt to think of blind people as gentle, sweet, pure, and
+holy; made submissive and tender by misfortune, dependent on the
+kindness of others. Old Pew has lost his eyes, but not his nerve. To see
+so black-hearted and unscrupulous a villain, his sight taken away as it
+were by the hand of God, and yet intent only on desperate wickedness,
+upsets the moral order; he becomes an uncanny monstrosity; he takes on
+the hue of a supernatural fiend. John Silver has lost a leg, but he
+circumvents others by the speed of his mind; amazingly quick in
+perception, a most astute politician, arrested from no treachery or
+murder by any moral principle or touch of pity, he has the dark
+splendour of unflinching depravity. He is no Laodicean. He never lets I
+dare not wait upon I would. His course seems fickle and changeable, but
+he is really steering steadily by the compass of self-interest. He can
+be witty, affectionate, sympathetic, friendly, submissive, flattering,
+and also a devilish beast. He is the very chameleon of crime. Stevenson
+simply had not the heart to kill so consummate an artist in villainy. It
+was no mean achievement to create two heroes so sinister as Pew and
+Silver, while depriving one of his sight and the other of a leg. One
+wearies of the common run of romances, where the chief character is a
+man of colossal size and beautifully proportioned, so that his victories
+over various rascals are really only athletic records. In _Treasure
+Island_, the emphasis is laid in the right place, whence leadership
+comes; everybody is afraid of Long John, and nobody minds Ben Gunn, dead
+or alive.[14]
+
+[14] It is interesting to remember that the crippled poet, W. E. Henley,
+was the original of Silver. Writing to Henley, May, 1883, Stevenson
+said, "I will now make a confession. It was the sight of your maimed
+strength and masterfulness that begot John Silver."
+
+There are scenes in this story, presented with such dramatic power, and
+with such astonishing felicity of diction, that, once read, they can
+never pass from the reader's mind. The expression in Silver's face, as
+he talks with Tom in the marsh, first ingratiatingly friendly, then
+suspicious, then as implacable as malignant fate. The hurling of the
+crutch; the two terrific stabs of the knife. "I could hear him pant
+aloud as he struck the blows." The boy's struggle on the schooner with
+Israel Hands; the awful moment in the little boat, while Flint's gunner
+is training the "long nine" on her, and the passengers can do nothing
+but await the result of the enemy's skill; the death of the faithful old
+servant, Redruth, who said he thought somebody might read a prayer.
+
+Much has been written in both prose and verse of the fascination of
+Stevenson's personality. He was so different in different moods that no
+two of his friends have ever agreed as to what manner of man he really
+was. As he chose to express his genius mainly in objective romances,
+future generations will find in the majority of his works no hint as to
+the character of the author. From this point of view, compare for a
+moment _The Master of Ballantrae_ with _Joseph Vance_! But fortunately,
+Stevenson elected to write personal essays; and still more fortunately,
+hundreds of his most intimate letters are preserved in type. Some think
+that these _Letters_ form his greatest literary work, and that they will
+outlast his novels, plays, poems, and essays. For they will have a
+profound interest long after the last person who saw Stevenson on earth
+has passed away. They are the revelation of a man even more interesting
+than any of the wonderful characters he created; they show that men like
+Philip Sidney were as possible in the nineteenth century as in the
+brilliant age of Elizabeth. The life of Stevenson has added immensely to
+our happiness and enjoyment of the world, and no literary figure in
+recent times had more radiance and wholesome charm. His optimism was
+based on a chronic experience of physical pain and weakness; to him it
+was a good world, and he made it distinctly better by his presence. He
+was a combination of the Bohemian and the Covenanter; he had all the
+graces of one, and the bed-rock moral earnestness of the other. "The
+world must return some day to the word 'duty,'" said he, "and be done
+with the word 'reward.'" He was the incarnation of the happy union of
+virtue and vivacity.
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+MRS. HUMPHRY WARD
+
+
+It is high time that somebody spoke out his mind about Mrs. Humphry
+Ward. Her prodigious vogue is one of the most extraordinary literary
+phenomena of our day. A roar of approval greets the publication of every
+new novel from her active pen, and it is almost pathetic to contemplate
+the reverent awe of her army of worshippers when they behold the solemn
+announcement that she is "collecting material" for another masterpiece.
+Even professional reviewers lose all sense of proportion when they
+discuss her books, and their so-called criticisms sound like publishers'
+advertisements. Sceptics are warned to remain silent, lest they become
+unpleasantly conspicuous. When _Lady Rose's Daughter_ appeared, the
+critic of a great metropolitan daily remarked that whoever did not
+immediately recognise the work as a masterpiece thereby proclaimed
+himself as a person incapable of judgement, taste, and appreciation.
+This is a fair example of the attitude taken by thousands of her
+readers, and it is this attitude, rather than the value of her work,
+that we must, first of all, consider.
+
+In the year 1905 an entirely respectable journal said of Mrs. Ward,
+"There is no more interesting and important figure in the literary world
+to-day." In comparing this superlative with the actual state of affairs,
+we find that we were asked to believe that Mrs. Ward was a literary
+personage not second in importance to Tolstoi, Ibsen, Bjoernson, Heyse,
+Sudermann, Hauptmann, Anatole France, Jules Lemaitre, Rostand,
+Swinburne, Thomas Hardy, Meredith, Kipling, and Mark Twain. At about the
+same time a work appeared intended as a text-book for the young, which
+declared Mrs. Ward to be "the greatest living writer of fiction in
+English literature," and misspelled her name--an excellent illustration
+of carelessness in adjectives with inaccuracy in facts. Over and over
+again we have heard the statement that the "mantle" of George Eliot has
+fallen on Mrs. Ward. Is it really true that her stories are equal in
+value to _Adam Bede_, _The Mill on the Floss_, and _Middlemarch_?
+
+The object of this essay is not primarily to attack a dignified and
+successful author; it is rather to enquire, in a proper spirit of
+humility, and with a full realisation of the danger incurred, whether or
+not the actual output justifies so enormous a reputation. For in some
+respects I believe the vogue of Mrs. Ward to be more unfortunate than
+the vogue of the late lamented Duchess, of Laura Jean Libbey, of Mrs. E.
+D. E. N. Southworth, of Marie Corelli, and of Hall Caine. When we are
+asked to note that 300,000 copies of the latest novel by any of these
+have been sold before the book is published, there is no cause for
+alarm. We know perfectly well what that means. It is what is called a
+"business proposition"; it has nothing to do with literature. It simply
+proves that it is possible to make as splendid a fortune out of the
+trade of book-making, and by equally respectable methods, as is made in
+other legitimate avenues of business. But the case is quite different
+with Mrs. Ward. Whatever she is, she is not vulgar, sensational, or
+cheap; she has never made the least compromise with her moral ideals,
+nor has she ever attempted to play to the gallery. Her constituency is
+made up largely of serious-minded, highly respectable people, who live
+in good homes, who are fairly well read, and who ought to know the
+difference between ordinary and extraordinary literature. Her books have
+had a bad effect in blurring this distinction in the popular mind; for
+while she has never written a positively bad book,--with the possible
+exception of _Bessie Costrell_,--I feel confident that she has never
+written supremely well; that, compared with the great masters of
+fiction, she becomes immediately insignificant. If there ever was a
+successful writer whose work shows industry and talent rather than
+genius, that writer is Mrs. Ward. If there ever was a successful writer
+whose work is ordinary rather than extraordinary, it is Mrs. Ward.
+
+To those of us who delight in getting some enjoyment even out of the
+most depressing facts, the growth of Mrs. Ward's reputation has its
+humorous aspect. The same individuals (mostly feminine) who in 1888 read
+_Robert Elsmere_ with dismay, who thought the sale of the work should be
+prohibited, and the copies already purchased removed from circulating
+libraries, are the very same ones who now worship what they once
+denounced. She was then regarded as a destroyer of Christian faith.
+Well, if she was Satan then, she is Satan still (one Western clergyman,
+in advocating at that time the suppression of the work, said he believed
+in hitting the devil right between the eyes). She has given no sign of
+recantation, or even of penitence. I remember one fond mother, who,
+fearful of the effect of the book on her daughter's growing mind, marked
+all the worst passages, and then told Alice she might read it, provided
+she skipped all the blazed places! That indicated not only a fine
+literary sense, but a remarkable knowledge of human nature. I wonder
+what the poor girl did when she came to the danger signals! And, as a
+matter of fact, how valuable or vital would a Christian faith be that
+could be destroyed by the perusal of _Robert Elsmere_? It is almost
+difficult now to bring to distinct recollection the tremendous
+excitement caused by Mrs. Ward's first successful novel, for it is a
+long time since I heard its name mentioned. The last public notice of it
+that I can recall was a large sign which appeared some fifteen years ago
+in a New Haven apothecary's window to the effect that one copy of
+_Robert Elsmere_ would be presented free to each purchaser of a cake of
+soap!
+
+Although _Robert Elsmere_ was an immediate and prodigious success, and
+made it certain that whatever its author chose to write next would be
+eagerly bought, it is wholly untrue to say that her subsequent novels
+have depended in any way on _Elsmere_ for their reputation. There are
+many instances in professional literary careers where one immensely
+successful book--_Lorna Doone_, for example--has floated a long
+succession of works that could not of themselves stay above water; many
+an author has succeeded in attaching a life-preserver to literary
+children who cannot swim. Far otherwise is the case with Mrs. Ward. It
+is probable that over half the readers of _Diana Mallory_ have never
+seen a copy of _Robert Elsmere_, for which, incidentally, they are to be
+congratulated. But many of us can easily recollect with what intense
+eagerness the novel that followed that sensation was awaited. Every one
+wondered if it would be equally good; and many confidently predicted
+that she had shot her bolt. As a matter of fact, not only was _David
+Grieve_ a better novel than _Robert Elsmere_, but, in my judgement, it
+is the best book its author has ever written. Oscar Wilde said that
+_Robert Elsmere_ was _Literature and Dogma_ with the literature left
+out. Now, _David Grieve_ has no dogma at all, but in a certain sense it
+does belong to literature. It has some actual dynamic quality. The
+character of David, and its development in a strange environment, are
+well analysed; and altogether the best thing in the work, taken as a
+whole, is the perspective. It is a difficult thing to follow a character
+from childhood up, within the pages of one volume, and have anything
+like the proper perspective. It requires for one thing, hard,
+painstaking industry; but Mrs. Ward has never been afraid of work. She
+cannot be accused of laziness or carelessness. The ending of this book
+is, of course, weak, like the conclusion of all her books, for she has
+never learned the fine art of saying farewell, either to her characters
+or to the reader.
+
+It was in the year 1894--a year made memorable by the appearance of
+_Trilby_, the _Prisoner of Zenda_, _The Jungle Book_, _Lord Ormont and
+his Aminta_, _Esther Waters_, and other notable novels--that Mrs. Ward
+greatly increased her reputation and widened her circle of
+readers by the publication of _Marcella_. Here she gave us a
+political-didactic-realistic novel, which she has continued to publish
+steadily ever since under different titles. It was gravely announced
+that this new book would deal with socialism and the labour question.
+Many readers, who felt that she had said the last word on agnosticism in
+_Elsmere_, now looked forward with reverent anticipation not only to the
+final solution of socialistic problems, but to some coherent arrangement
+of their own vague and confused ideas. Naturally, they got just what
+they deserved--a voluminous statement of various aspects of the problem,
+with no solution at all. It is curious how many persons suppose that
+their favourite author or orator has done something toward settling
+questions, when, as a matter of fact, all he has done is to _state_
+them, and then state them again. This is especially true of
+philosophical and metaphysical difficulties. Think how eagerly readers
+took up Professor James's exceedingly clever book on Pragmatism, hoping
+at last to find rest in some definite principle. And if there ever was a
+blind alley in philosophy, it is Pragmatism--the very essence of
+agnosticism.
+
+Now, _Marcella_, as a document, is both radical and reactionary. There
+is an immense amount of radical talk; but the heroine's schemes fail,
+the Labour party is torn by dissension, Wharton proves to be a
+scoundrel, and the rebel Marcella marries a respectable nobleman. There
+is not a single page in the book, with all its wilderness of words, that
+can be said to be in any sense a serious contribution to the greatest of
+all purely political problems. And, as a work of art, it is painfully
+limited; but since it has the same virtues and defects of all her
+subsequent literary output, we may consider what these virtues and
+defects are.
+
+In the first place, Mrs. Ward is totally lacking in one almost
+fundamental quality of the great novelist--a keen sense of humour. Who
+are the English novelists of the first class? They are Defoe,
+Richardson, Fielding, Scott, Jane Austen, Dickens, Thackeray, George
+Eliot, Stevenson, and perhaps Hardy. Every one of these shows humour
+enough and to spare, with the single exception of Richardson, and he
+atoned for the deficiency by a terrible intensity that has seldom, if
+ever, been equalled in English fiction. Now, the absence of humour in a
+book is not only a positive loss to the reader, in that it robs him of
+the fun which is an essential part of the true history of any human
+life, and thereby makes the history to that extent inaccurate and
+unreal, but the writer who has no humour seldom gets the right point of
+view. There is infinitely more in the temperament of the humorist than
+mere laughter. Just as the poet sees life through the medium of a
+splendid imagination, so the humorist has the almost infallible guide of
+sympathy. The humorist sees life in a large, tolerant, kindly way; he
+knows that life is a tragi-comedy, and he makes the reader feel it in
+that fashion.
+
+Again, the lack of humour in a writer destroys the sense of proportion.
+The humorist sees the salient points--the merely serious writer gives us
+a mass of details. In looking back over the thousands of pages of
+fiction that Mrs. Ward has published, how few great scenes stand out
+bright in the memory! The principle of selection--so important a part of
+all true art--is conspicuous only by its absence. This is one reason for
+the sameness of her books. All that we can remember is an immense number
+of social functions and an immense amount of political gossip--a long,
+sad level of mediocrity. This perhaps helps to explain why German
+fiction is so markedly inferior to the French. The German, in his
+scientific endeavour to get in the whole of life, gives us a mass of
+unrelated detail. A French writer by a few phrases makes us see a
+character more clearly than a German presents him after many painful
+pages of wearisome description.
+
+Mrs. Ward is not too much in earnest in following her ideals of art; no
+one can be. But she is too sadly serious. There is a mental tension in
+her books, like the tension of overwork and mental exhaustion, like the
+tension of overwrought nerves; her books are, in fact, filled with tired
+and overworked men and women, jaded and gone stale. How many of her
+characters seem to need a change--what they want is rest and sleep! Many
+of them ought to be in a sanatorium.
+
+Her books are devoid of charm. One does not have to compare her with the
+great masters to feel this deficiency; it would not be fair to compare
+her with Thackeray. But if we select among all the novelists of real
+distinction the one whom, perhaps, she most closely approaches,--Anthony
+Trollope,--the enormous distance between _Diana Mallory_ and _Framley
+Parsonage_ is instantly manifest. We think of Trollope with a glow of
+reminiscent delight; but although Trollope and Mrs. Ward talk endlessly
+on much the same range of subject-matter, how far apart they really are!
+Mrs. Ward's books are crammed with politicians and clergymen, who keep
+the patient reader informed on modern aspects of political and religious
+thought; but the difficulty is that they substitute phrases for ideas.
+Mrs. Ward knows all the political and religious cant of the day; she is
+familiar with the catch-words that divide men into hostile camps; but in
+all these dreary pages of serious conversation there is no real
+illumination. She completely lacks the art that Trollope possessed, of
+making ordinary people attractive. But to find out the real distance
+that separates her productions from literature, one should read, let us
+say, _The Marriage of William Ashe_ and then take up _Pride and
+Prejudice_. The novels of Mrs. Ward bear about the same relation to
+first-class fiction that maps and atlases bear to great paintings.
+
+This lack of charm that I always feel in reading Mrs. Ward's books (and
+I have read them all) is owing not merely to the lack of humour. It is
+partly due to what seems to be an almost total absence of freshness,
+spontaneity, and originality. Mrs. Ward works like a well-trained and
+high-class graduate student, who is engaged in the preparation of a
+doctor's thesis. Her discussions of socialism, her scenes in the House
+of Commons and on the Terrace, her excursions to Italy, her references
+to political history, her remarks on the army, her disquisitions on
+theology, her pictures of campaign riots, her studies of defective
+drainage, her representations of the labouring classes,--all these are
+"worked up" in a scholarly and scientific manner; there is the modern
+passion for accuracy, there is the German completeness of detail,--there
+is, in fact, everything except the breath of life. She works in the
+descriptive manner, from the outside in--not in the inspired manner
+which goes with imagination, sympathy, and genius. She is not only a
+student, she is a journalist; she is a special correspondent on
+politics and theology; but she is not a creative writer. For she has the
+critical, not the creative, temperament.
+
+The monotonous sameness of her books, which has been mentioned above, is
+largely owing to the sameness of her characters. She changes the frames,
+but not the portraits. First of all, in almost any of her books we are
+sure to meet the studious, intellectual young man. He always has a
+special library on some particular subject, with the books all
+annotated. One wearies of this perpetual character's perpetual library,
+crowded, as it always is, with the latest French and German monographs.
+Her heroes smell of books and dusty dissertations, and the conversations
+of these heroes are plentifully lacking in native wit and
+originality--they are the mere echoes of their reading. Let us pass in
+review a few of these serious students--Robert Elsmere, Langham, Aldous
+Reyburn (who changes into Lord Maxwell, but who remains a prig), the
+melancholy Helbeck, the insufferable Manisty, Jacob Delafield, William
+Ashe, Oliver Marsham--all, all essentially the same, tiresome, dull,
+heavy men--what a pity they were not intended as satires! Second, as a
+foil to this man, we have the Byronic, clever, romantic, sentimental,
+insincere man--who always degenerates or dies in a manner that exalts
+the dull and superior virtues of his antagonist. Such a man is Wharton,
+or Sir George Tressady, or Captain Warkworth, or Cliffe--they have
+different names in different novels, but they are the same character.
+Curiously enough, the only convincing men that appear in her pages are
+_old_ men--men like Lord Maxwell or Sir James Chide. In portraying this
+type she achieves success.
+
+What shall we say of her heroines? They have the same suspicious
+resemblance so characteristic of her heroes; they are represented as
+physically beautiful, intensely eager for morality and justice, with an
+extraordinary fund of information, and an almost insane desire to impart
+it. Her heroine is likely to be or to become a power in politics; even
+at a tender age she rules society by the brilliancy of her conversation;
+in a crowded drawing-room the Prime Minister hangs upon her words;
+diplomats are amazed at her intimate knowledge of foreign relations, and
+of the resources of the British Empire; and she can entertain a whole
+ring of statesmen and publicists by giving to each exactly the right
+word at the right moment. Men who are making history come to her not
+only for inspiration but for guidance, for she can discourse fluently on
+all phases of the troublesome labour question. And yet, if we may judge
+of this marvellous creature not by the attitude of the other characters
+in the book, but by the actual words that fall from her lips, we are
+reminded of the woman whom Herbert Spencer's friends selected as his
+potential spouse. They shut him up with her, and awaited the result with
+eagerness, for they told him she had a great mind; but on emerging from
+the trial interview Spencer remarked that she would not do at all: "The
+young lady is, in my opinion, too highly intellectual; or, I should
+rather say--morbidly intellectual. A small brain in a state of intense
+activity." Was there ever a better formula for Mrs. Ward's constantly
+recurring heroine? Now, as a foil to Marcella, Diana Mallory, and the
+others, Mrs. Ward gives us the frivolous, mischief-making, would-be
+brilliant, and actually vulgar woman, who makes much trouble for the
+heroine and ultimately more for herself--the wife of Sir George
+Tressady, the young upstart in _Diana Mallory_, and all the rest of
+them. By the introduction of these characters there is an attempt to
+lend colour to the dull pages of the novels. These women are at heart
+adventuresses, but they are apt to lack the courage of their
+convictions; instead of being brilliant and terrible,--like the great
+adventuresses of fiction,--they are as dull in sin as their antagonists
+are dull in virtue. Mrs. Ward cannot make them real; compare any one of
+them with Thackeray's Beatrix or with Becky Sharp--to say nothing of the
+long list of sinister women in French and Russian fiction.
+
+There are no "supreme moments" in Mrs. Ward's books; no great dramatic
+situations; she has tried hard to manage this, for she has had
+repeatedly one eye on the stage. When _The Marriage of William Ashe_ and
+_Lady Rose's Daughter_ appeared, one could almost feel the strain for
+dramatic effect. It was as though she had realised that her previous
+books were treatises rather than novels, and had gathered all her
+energies together to make a severe effort for real drama. But,
+unfortunately, the scholarly and critical temperament is not primarily
+adapted for dramatic masterpieces. In the endeavour to recall thrilling
+scenes in her novels, scenes that brand themselves for ever on the
+memory, one has only to compare her works with such stories as _Far From
+the Madding Crowd_ or _The Return of the Native_, and her painful
+deficiency is immediately apparent.
+
+In view of what I believe to be the standard mediocrity of her novels,
+how shall we account for their enormous vogue? The fact is, whether we
+like it or not, that she is one of the most widely read of all living
+novelists. Well, in the first place, she is absolutely respectable and
+safe. It is assuredly to her credit that she has never stooped for
+popularity. She has never descended to melodrama, clap-trap, or
+indecency. She is never spectacular and declamatory like Marie Corelli,
+and she is never morally offensive like some popular writers who might
+be mentioned. She writes for a certain class of readers whom she
+thoroughly understands: they are the readers who abhor both vulgarity
+and pruriency, and who like to enter vicariously, as they certainly do
+in her novels, into the best English society. In her social functions
+her readers can have the pleasure of meeting prime ministers, lords, and
+all the dwellers in Mayfair, and they know that nothing will be said
+that is shocking or improper. Her books can safely be recommended to
+young people, and they reflect the current movement of English thought
+as well as could be done by a standard English review. She has a
+well-furnished and highly developed intellect; she is deeply read; she
+makes her readers think that they are thinking. She tries to make up for
+artistic deficiencies by an immense amount of information. Fifty years
+ago it is probable that she would not have written novels at all, but
+rather thoughtful and intellectual critical essays, for which her mind
+is admirably fitted. She unconsciously chose the novel simply because
+the novel has been, during the last thirty years, the chief channel of
+literary expression. But in spite of her popularity, it should never be
+forgotten that the novel is an art-form, not a medium for doctrinaires.
+
+Then, with her sure hand on the pulse of the public, she is always
+intensely modern, intensely contemporary; again like a well-trained
+journalist. She knows exactly what Society is talking about, for she
+emphatically belongs to it. This is once more a reason why so many
+people believe that she holds the key to great problems of social life,
+and that her next book will give the solution. Many hoped that her novel
+on America, carefully worked up during her visit here, would give the
+final word on American social life. Both England and the United States
+were to find out what the word "American" really means.
+
+Mrs. Ward is an exceedingly talented, scholarly, and thoughtful woman,
+of lofty aims and actuated only by noble motives; she is hungry for
+intellectual food, reading both old texts and the daily papers with
+avidity. She has a highly trained, sensitive, critical mind,--but she is
+destitute of the divine spark of genius. Her books are the books of
+to-day, not of to-morrow; for while the political and religious
+questions of to-day are of temporary interest, the themes of the world's
+great novels are what Richardson called "love and nonsense, men and
+women"--and these are eternal.
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+RUDYARD KIPLING
+
+
+Mr. Rudyard Kipling is in the anomalous and fortunate position of having
+enjoyed a prodigious reputation for twenty years, and being still a
+young man. Few writers in the world to-day are better known than he; and
+it is to be hoped and expected that he has before him over thirty years
+of active production. He has not yet attained the age of forty-five; but
+his numerous stories, novels, and poems have reached the unquestioned
+dignity of "works," and in uniform binding they make on my library
+shelves a formidable and gallant display. Foreigners read them in their
+own tongues; critical essays in various languages are steadily
+accumulating; and he has received the honour of being himself the hero
+of a strange French novel.[15] His popularity with the general mass of
+readers has been sufficient to satisfy the wildest dreams of an author's
+ambition; and his fame is, in a way, officially sanctioned by the
+receipt of honorary degrees from McGill University, from Durham, from
+Oxford, and from Cambridge; and in 1907 he was given the Nobel Prize,
+with the ratifying applause of the whole world. There is no indication
+that either the shouts of the mob or the hoods of Doctorates have turned
+his head; he remains to-day what he always has been--a hard,
+conscientious workman, trying to do his best every time.
+
+[15] A curious and ironical book, _Dingley_, by Tharaud.
+
+Although Mr. Kipling is British to the core, there is nothing insular
+about his experience; he is as much-travelled as Ulysses.
+
+    "For always roaming with a hungry heart
+     Much have I seen and known: cities of men,
+     And manners, climates, councils, governments,
+     Myself not least, but honour'd of them all."
+
+Born in India, educated at an English school, circumnavigator of the
+globe, he is equally at home in the snows of the Canadian Rockies, or in
+the fierce heat east of Suez; in the fogs of the Channel, or under the
+Southern Cross at Capetown. Nor is he a mere sojourner on the earth: he
+has lived for years in his own house, in England, in Vermont, and in
+India, and has had abundant opportunity to compare the climate of
+Brattleboro with that of Bombay.
+
+A born journalist and reporter, his publications first saw the light in
+ephemeral Indian sheets. In the late eighties he began to amuse himself
+with the composition of squibs of verse, which he printed in the local
+newspaper; these became popular, and were cited and sung with
+enthusiasm. Emboldened by this first taste of success, he put together a
+little volume bound like a Government report; he then sent around reply
+post-cards for cash orders, in the fashion already made famous by Walt
+Whitman. It is needless to say that copies of this book command a fancy
+price to-day. He immediately contracted what Holmes used to call
+"lead-poisoning," and the sight of his work in type made a literary
+career certain. He produced volume after volume, in both prose and
+verse, with amazing rapidity, and his fame overflowed the world. A
+London periodical prophesied in 1888, "The book gives hope of a new
+literary star of no mean magnitude rising in the East." The amount and
+excellence of his output may be judged when we remember that in the
+three years from 1886 to 1889 he published _Departmental Ditties_,
+_Plain Tales from the Hills_, _Soldiers Three_, _In Black and White_,
+_The Story of the Gadsbys_, _The Man Who Would Be King_, _The Phantom
+'Rickshaw_, _Wee Willie Winkie_, and other narratives.
+
+The originality, freshness, and power of all this work made Europe stare
+and gasp. For some years he had as much notoriety as reputation. We used
+to hear of the Kipling "craze," the Kipling "boom," the Kipling "fad,"
+and Kipling clubs sprang up like mushrooms. It was difficult to read
+him in cool blood, because he was discussed pro and con with so much
+passion. He was fashionable, in the manner of ping-pong; and there were
+not wanting pessimistic prophets who looked upon him as a comet rather
+than a fixed star. So late as 1895 a well-known American journal said of
+him: "Rudyard Kipling is supposed to be the cleverest man now handling
+the pen. The magazines accept everything he writes, and pay him fabulous
+prices. Kipling is now printing a series of Jungle Stories that are so
+weak and foolish that we have never been able to read them. They are not
+fables: they are stories of animals talking, and they are pointless, so
+far as the average reader is able to judge. We have asked a good many
+magazine editors about Kipling's Jungle Stories; they all express the
+same astonishment that the magazine editors accept them. Kipling will
+soon be dropped by the magazine editors; they will inevitably discover
+that his stories are not admired by the people. Robert Louis Stevenson
+died just in time to save him from the same fate."
+
+Many honestly believed that Mr. Kipling could write only in flashes;
+that he was incapable of producing a complete novel. His answer to this
+was _The Light that Failed_, which, although he made the mistake of
+giving it a reversible ending, indicated that his own lamp had yet
+sufficient oil. In 1895 he added immensely to the solidity of his fame
+by printing _The Brushwood Boy_, the scenes of which he announced
+previously would be laid in "England, India, and the world of dreams."
+Here he temporarily forsook the land of mysterious horror for the land
+of mysterious beauty, and many were grateful, and said so. In 1896 the
+appearance of _The Seven Seas_ proved beyond cavil that he was something
+more than a music-hall rimester--that he was really among the English
+poets. The very next year _The Recessional_ stirred the religious
+consciousness of the whole English-speaking race. And although much of
+his subsequent career seems to be a nullification of the sentiment of
+that poem, it will remain imperishable when the absent-minded beggars
+and the flannelled fools have reached the oblivion they so richly
+deserve.
+
+In 1897 he tried his hand for the second time at a complete novel,
+_Captains Courageous_, and the result might safely be called a success.
+The moral of this story will be worth a word or two later on. The next
+year an important volume came from his pen, _The Day's Work_--important
+because it is in this volume that the new Kipling is first plainly seen,
+and the mechanical engineer takes the place of the literary artist. Such
+curiosities as _The Ship that Found Herself_, _The Bridge-Builders_,
+_.007_, became anything but curiosities in his later work. This
+collection was sadly marred by the inclusion of such wretched stuff as
+_My Sunday at Home_, and _An Error in the Fourth Dimension_; but it was
+glorified by one of the most exquisitely tender and beautiful of all Mr.
+Kipling's tales, _William the Conqueror_. And it should not be forgotten
+that the author saw fit to close this volume with the previously printed
+and universally popular _Brushwood Boy_. Then, at the very height of his
+ten years' fame, Mr. Kipling came closer to death than almost any other
+individual has safely done. As he lay sick with pneumonia in New York,
+the American people, whom he has so frequently ridiculed, were more
+generally and profoundly affected than they have been at the bedside of
+a dying President. The year 1899 marked the great physical crisis of his
+life, and seems also to indicate a turning-point in his literary career.
+
+Whatever may be thought of the relative merits of Mr. Kipling's early
+and later style, it is fortunate for him that the two decades of
+composition were not transposed. We all read the early work because we
+could not help it; we read his twentieth-century compositions because he
+wrote them. It is lucky that the _Plain Tales from the Hills_ preceded
+_Puck of Pook's Hill_, and that _The Light that Failed_ came before
+_Stalky and Co._ Whether these later productions could have got into
+print without the tremendous prestige of their author's name, is a
+question that has all the fascination and all the insolubility of
+speculative philosophy. The suddenness of his early popularity may be
+perhaps partly accounted for by the fact that he was working a new
+field. The two authors who have most influenced Mr. Kipling's style are
+both Americans--Bret Harte and Mark Twain; and the analogy between the
+sudden fame of Harte and the sudden fame of Mr. Kipling is too obvious
+to escape notice. Bret Harte found in California ore of a different kind
+than his maddened contemporaries sought; his early tales had all the
+charm of something new and strange. What Bret Harte made out of
+California Mr. Kipling made out of India; at the beginning he was a
+"sectional writer," who, with the instinct of genius, made his literary
+opportunity out of his environment. The material was at hand, the time
+was ripe, and the man was on the spot. It was the strong "local colour"
+in these powerful Indian tales that captivated readers--who, in far-away
+centres of culture and comfort, delighted to read of primitive passions
+in savage surroundings. We had all the rest and change of air that we
+could have obtained in a journey to the Orient, without any of the
+expense, discomfort, and peril.
+
+But after the spell of the wizard's imagination has left us, we cannot
+help asking, after the manner of the small boy, Is it true? Are these
+pictures of English and native life in India faithful reflexions of
+fact? Can we depend on Mr. Kipling for India, as we can depend (let us
+say) on Daudet for a picture of the _Rue de la Paix_? Now it is a
+notable fact that local colour seems most genuine to those who are
+unable to verify it. It is a melancholy truth that the community
+portrayed by a novelist not only almost invariably deny the likeness of
+the portrait, but that they emphatically resent the liberty taken.
+Stories of college life are laughed to scorn by the young gentlemen
+described therein, no matter how fine the local colour may seem to
+outsiders. The same is true of social strata in society, of provincial
+towns, and Heaven only knows what the Slums would say to their depiction
+in novels, if only the Slums could read. One reason for this is that a
+novel or a short story must have a beginning and an end, and some kind
+of a plot; whereas life has no such thing, nor anything remotely
+resembling it. When honest people see their daily lives, made up of
+thousands of unrelated incidents, served up to remote readers in the
+form of an orderly progression of events, leading up to a proper climax,
+the whole thing seems monstrously unreal and untrue. "Why, we are not in
+the least like that!" they cry. And I have purposely omitted the factor
+of exaggeration, absolutely essential to the realistic novelist or
+playwright.
+
+In a notice of the _Plain Tales from the Hills_, the London _Saturday
+Review_ remarked, "Mr. Kipling knows and appreciates the English in
+India." But it is more interesting and profitable to see how his stories
+were regarded in the country he described. In the _Calcutta Times_, for
+14 September, 1895, there was a long editorial which is valuable, at any
+rate, for the point of view. After mentioning the _Plain Tales_,
+_Soldiers Three_, _Barrack-room Ballads_, etc., the _Times_ critic
+said:--
+
+     "Except in a few instances which might easily be numbered on the
+     fingers of one hand, nothing in the books we have named is at all
+     likely to live or deserves to live.... It will probably be answered
+     that this sweeping condemnation is not of much value against the
+     emphatic approval of the British public and the aforesaid chorus of
+     critics in praise of the new Genius.... And the English critics
+     have this to plead in excuse of their hyperbolical appreciation of
+     the Stronger Dickens, that his first work came to them fathered
+     with responsible guarantee from men who should have known better,
+     that it was in the way of a revelation of Anglo-Indian society,
+     a-letting in the light of truth on places which had been very dark
+     indeed.
+
+     "Now the average English critic knows very little of the
+     intricacies of social life in India, and in the enthusiasm which
+     Mrs. Hauksbee and kindred creations inspired he accepted too
+     readily as true types what are, in fact, caricatures, or distorted
+     presentments, of some of the more poisonous social characteristics
+     to be found in Anglo-Indian as well as in every other civilised
+     society.... Do not let us be understood as recklessly running down
+     Kipling and all his works.... He possesses in a high degree the
+     power of describing a certain class of emotions, and the flights of
+     his imagination in some directions are extremely bold and original.
+     In such tales, for instance, as 'The Man who would be a King'
+     (_sic_) and 'The Ride of Morrowby Jukes' (_sic_) there are
+     qualities of the imagination which equal, if they do not surpass,
+     anything in the same line with which we are acquainted.... The
+     capital charge, in the opinion of many, the head and front of his
+     offending, is that he has traduced a whole society, and has spread
+     libels broadcast. Anglo-Indian society may in some respects be
+     below the average level of the best society in the Western world,
+     where the rush and stir of life and the collision of intellects
+     combine to keep the atmosphere clearer and more bracing than in
+     this land of tennis, office boxes, frontier wars, and enervation.
+     But as far as it falls below what many would wish it to be, so far
+     it rises above the description of it which now passes current at
+     home under the sanction of Kipling's name.... For whether Kipling
+     is treating of Indian subjects pure and simple, of Anglo-Indian
+     subjects, or is attempting a Western theme, the personality of the
+     writer is pervasive and intrusive everywhere, with all its
+     limitations of vision and information, as well as with its eternal
+     panoply of cheap smartness and spiced vulgarity.... Smartness is
+     always first with him, and Truth may shift for herself."
+
+Although the writer of the above article is somewhat blinded by
+prejudice and wrath, it is, nevertheless, interesting testimony from the
+particular section of our planet which Mr. Kipling was at that time
+supposed to know best. And out in San Francisco they are still talking
+of Mr. Kipling's visit there, and the "abominable libel" of California
+life and customs he chose to publish in _From Sea to Sea_.
+
+Apart from Mr. Kipling's good fortune in having fresh material to deal
+with, the success of his early work lay chiefly in its dominant
+quality--Force. For the last thirty years, the world has been full of
+literary experts, professional story-writers, to whom the pen is a means
+of livelihood. Our magazines are crowded with tales which are well
+written, and nothing else. They say nothing, because their writers have
+nothing to say. The impression left on the mind by the great majority of
+handsomely bound novels is like that of a man who beholds his natural
+face in a glass. The thing we miss is the thing we unconsciously
+demand--Vitality. In the rare instances where vitality is the
+ground-quality, readers forgive all kinds of excrescences and defects,
+as they did twenty years ago in Mr. Kipling, and later, for example, in
+Jack London. The original vigour and strength of Mr. Kipling's stories
+were to the jaded reader a keen, refreshing breeze; like Marlowe in
+Elizabethan days he seemed a towering, robust, masculine personality,
+who had at his command an inexhaustible supply of material absolutely
+new. This undoubted vigour was naturally unaccompanied by moderation and
+good taste; Mr. Kipling's sins against artistic proportion and the law
+of subtle suggestion were black indeed. He simply had no reserve. In
+_The Man Who Would Be King_, which I have always regarded as his
+masterpiece, the subject was so big that no reserve in handling it was
+necessary. The whole thing was an inspiration, of imagination all
+compact. But in many other instances his style was altogether too loud
+for his subject. One wearies of eternal fortissimo. Many of his tales
+should have been printed throughout in italics. In examples of this
+nature, which are all too frequent in the "Complete Works" of Mr.
+Kipling, the tragedy becomes melodrama; the humour becomes buffoonery;
+the picturesque becomes bizarre; the terrible becomes horrible; and
+vulgarity reigns supreme.
+
+He is far better in depicting action than in portraying character. This
+is one reason why his short stories are better than his novels. In _The
+Light that Failed_, with all its merits, he never realised the character
+of Maisie; but in his tales of violent action, we feel the vividness of
+the scene, time and again. His work here is effective, because Mr.
+Kipling has an acute sense of the value of words, just as a great
+musician has a correct ear for the value of pitch. When one takes the
+trouble to analyse his style in his most striking passages, it all comes
+down to skill in the use of the specific word--the word that makes the
+picture clear, sometimes intolerably clear. Look at the nouns and
+adjectives in this selection from _The Drums of the Fore and Aft_:
+
+     "They then selected their men, and slew them with deep gasps and
+     short hacking coughs, and groanings of leather belts against
+     strained bodies, and realised for the first time that an Afghan
+     attacked is far less formidable than an Afghan attacking; which
+     fact old soldiers might have told them.
+
+     "But they had no old soldiers in their ranks."
+
+There are two defects in Mr. Kipling's earlier work that might perhaps
+be classed as moral deficiencies. One is the almost ever present
+coarseness, which the author mistook for vigour. Now the tendency to
+coarseness is inseparable from force, and needs to be held in check.
+Coarseness is the inevitable excrescence of superabundant vitality, just
+as effeminacy is the danger limit of delicacy and refinement. Swift and
+Rabelais had the coarseness of a robust English sailor; at their worst
+they are simply abominable, just as Tennyson at his worst is effeminate
+and silly. Mr. Kipling has that natural delight in coarseness that all
+strong natures have, whether they are willing to admit it or not. A
+large proportion of his scenes of humour are devoted to drunkenness:
+"gloriously drunk" is a favourite phrase with him. The time may come
+when this sort of humour will be obsolete. We laugh at drunkenness, as
+the Elizabethans laughed at insanity, but we are only somewhat nearer
+real civilisation than they. At any rate, even those who delight in
+scenes of intoxication must find the theme rather overworked in Mr.
+Kipling. This same defect in him leads to indulgence in his passion for
+ghastly detail. This is where he ceases to be a man of letters, and
+becomes downright journalistic. It is easier to excite momentary
+attention by physical horror than by any other device; and Mr. Kipling
+is determined to leave nothing to the imagination. Many instances might
+be cited; we need only recall the gouging out of a man's eye in _The
+Light that Failed_, and the human brains on the boot in _Badalia
+Herodsfoot_.
+
+The other moral defect in this early work was its world-weary cynicism,
+which was simply foolish in so young a writer. His treatment of women,
+for example, compares unfavourably with that shown in the frankest tales
+of Bret Harte. His attitude toward women in these youthful books has
+been well described as "disillusioned gallantry." The author continually
+gives the reader a "knowing wink," which, after a time, gets on one's
+nerves. These books, after all, were probably not meant for women to
+read, and perhaps no one was more surprised than Mr. Kipling himself at
+the rapturous exclamations of the thousands of his feminine adorers. A
+woman rejoicing in the perusal of these Indian tales seems as much out
+of place as she does in the office of a cheap country hotel, reeking
+with the fumes of whiskey and stale tobacco, and adorned with men who
+spit with astonishing accuracy into distant receptacles.
+
+Mr. Kipling doubtless knows more about his own faults than any of the
+critics; and if after one has read _The Light that Failed_ for the sake
+of the story, one rereads it attentively as an _Apologia Pro Vita Sua_,
+one will be surprised to see how many ideas about his art he has put
+into the mouth of Dick. "Under any circumstances, remember, four-fifths
+of everybody's work must be bad. But the remnant is worth the trouble
+for its own sake." "One must do something always. You hang your canvas
+up in a palm-tree and let the parrots criticise." "If we sit down
+quietly to work out notions that are sent to us, we may or we may not do
+something that isn't bad. A great deal depends on being master of the
+bricks and mortar of the trade. But the instant we begin to think about
+success and the effect of our work--to play with one eye on the
+gallery--we lose power and touch and everything else.... I was told that
+all the world was interested in my work, and everybody at Kami's talked
+turpentine, and I honestly believed that the world needed elevating and
+influencing, and all manner of impertinences, by my brushes. By Jove, I
+actually believed that!... And when it's done it's such a tiny thing,
+and the world's so big, and all but a millionth part of it doesn't
+care."
+
+Fortunately, four-fifths of Kipling's work isn't bad. We are safe in
+ascribing genius to the man who wrote _The Phantom 'Rickshaw_, _The
+Strange Ride_, _The Man Who Would Be King_, _William the Conqueror_,
+_The Brushwood Boy_, and _The Jungle Book_. These, and many other tales,
+to say nothing of his poetry, constitute an astounding achievement for a
+writer under thirty-five.
+
+But the Kipling of the last ten years is an Imperialist and a Mechanic,
+rather than a literary man. We need not classify _Stalky and Co._,
+except to say that it is probably the worst novel ever written by a man
+of genius. It is on a false pitch throughout, and the most rasping book
+of recent times. The only good things in it are the quotations from
+Browning. The Jingo in Mr. Kipling was released by the outbreak of the
+South African War, and the author of _The Recessional_ forgot everything
+he had prayed God to remember. He became the voice of the British
+Empire, and the man who had always ridiculed Americans for bunkum
+oratory, out-screamed us all. In this imperialistic verse and prose
+there is not much literature, but there is a great deal of noise, which
+has occasionally deceived the public; just as an orator is sure of a
+round of applause if his peroration is shouted at the top of his voice.
+His recent book, _Puck of Pook's Hill_, is written against the grain;
+painful effort has supplied the place of the old inspiration, and the
+simplicity of true art is conspicuous by its absence. Of this volume,
+_The Athenaeum_, in general friendly to Kipling, remarks: "In his new
+part--the missionary of empire--Mr. Kipling is living the strenuous
+life. He has frankly abandoned story-telling, and is using his complete
+and powerful armory in the interest of patriotic zeal." On the other
+hand, Mr. Owen Wister, whose opinion is valuable, thinks _Puck_ "the
+highest plane that he has ever reached"--a judgement that I record with
+respect, though to me it is incomprehensible.
+
+Kipling the Mechanic is less useful than an encyclopaedia, and not any
+more interesting. A comic paper describes him as "now a technical
+expert; at one time a popular writer. This young man was born in India,
+came to his promise in America, and lost himself in England. His _Plain
+Tales of the Hills_ (_sic_) has been succeeded by _Enigmatical
+Expositions from the Dark Valleys_.... Mr. Kipling has declared that the
+Americans have never forgiven him for not dying in their country. On the
+contrary, they have never forgiven him for not having written anything
+better since he was here than he did before. But while there's Kipling,
+there's hope." It is to be earnestly hoped that he will cease
+describing the machinery of automobiles, ships, locomotives, and flying
+air-vessels, and once more look in his heart and write. His worst enemy
+is himself. He seems to be in terror lest he should say something
+ordinary and commonplace. He has been so praised for his originality and
+powerful imagination, that his later books give one the impression of a
+man writing in the sweat of his face, with the grim determination to
+make every sentence a literary event. Such a tale as _Wireless_ shows
+that the zeal for originality has eaten him up. One can feel on every
+page the straining for effect, and it is as exhausting to read as it is
+to watch a wrestling-match, and not nearly so entertaining. If Mr.
+Kipling goes on in the vein of these later years, he may ultimately
+survive his reputation, as many a good man has done before him. I should
+think even now, when the author of _Puck of Pook's Hill_ turns over the
+pages of _The Man Who Would Be King_, he would say with Swift, "Good
+God! what a genius I had when I wrote that book!"
+
+His latest collection of tales, with the significant title, _Actions and
+Reactions_, is a particularly welcome volume to those of us who prefer
+the nineteenth century Kipling to the twentieth. To be sure, the story
+_With the Night Mail_, shows the new mechanical cleverness rather than
+the old inspiration; it is both ingenious and ephemeral, and should
+have remained within the covers of the magazine where it first appeared.
+Furthermore, _A Deal in Cotton_, _The Puzzler_, and _Little Foxes_ are
+neither clever nor literary; they are merely irritating, and remind us
+of a book we would gladly forget, called _Traffics and Discoveries_. But
+the first narrative in this new volume, with the caption, _An Habitation
+Enforced_, is one of the most subtle, charming, and altogether
+delightful things that Mr. Kipling has ever given us; nor has he ever
+brought English and American people in conjunction with so much charity
+and good feeling. I do not think he has previously shown greater
+psychological power than in this beautiful story. In the second tale,
+_Garm--A Hostage_, Mr. Kipling joins the ranks of the dog worshippers;
+the exploits of this astonishing canine will please all dog-owners, and
+many others as well. Naturally he has to exaggerate; instead of making
+his four-footed hero merely intelligent, he makes him noble in reason,
+infinite in faculty, in apprehension like a god, the paragon of animals.
+But it is a brilliant piece of work. The last story, _The House
+Surgeon_, takes us into the world of spirit, whither Mr. Kipling has
+successfully conducted his readers before. This mysterious domain seems
+to have a constantly increasing attraction for modern realistic writers,
+and has enormously enlarged the stock of material for contemporary
+novelists. The field is the world, yes; but the world is bigger than it
+used to be, bigger than any boundaries indicated by maps or globes. It
+would be interesting to speculate just what the influence of all these
+transcendental excursions will be on modern fiction as an educational
+force. Mr. Kipling apparently writes with sincere conviction, and in a
+powerfully impressive manner. The poetic interludes in this volume, like
+those in _Puck of Pook's Hill_, show that the author's skill in verse
+has not in the least abated; the lines on _The Power of the Dog_ are
+simply irresistible. It is safe to say that _Actions and Reactions_ will
+react favourably on all unprejudiced readers; and for this relief much
+thanks. If one wishes to observe the difference between the inspired and
+the ingenious Mr. Kipling, one has only to read this collection straight
+through.[16]
+
+[16] I have not discussed a new collection of Mr. Kipling's stories,
+called _Abaft the Funnel_, consisting of reprints of early fugitive
+pieces; because there is not the slightest indication that this book is
+in any way authorised, or that its publication has the approval of the
+man who wrote it. Perhaps an authorised edition of it may now become
+necessary.
+
+Like almost all Anglo-Saxon writers, Mr. Kipling is a moralist, and his
+gospel is Work. He believes in the strenuous life as a cure-all. He
+apparently does not agree with Goethe that To Be is greater than To Do.
+The moral of _Captains Courageous_ is the same moral contained in the
+ingenious bee-hive story. The unpardonable sin is Idleness. But
+although Work is good for humanity, it is rather limited as an ideal,
+and we cannot rate Mr. Kipling very high as a spiritual teacher. God is
+not always in the wind, or in the earthquake, or in the fire. The
+day-dreams of men like Stevenson and Thackeray sometimes bear more fruit
+than the furious energy of Mr. Kipling.
+
+But the consuming ambition of this man, and his honest desire to do his
+best, will, let us hope, spare him the humiliation of being beaten by
+his own past. After all, Genius is the rarest article in the world, and
+one who undoubtedly has it is far more likely to reach the top of the
+hill than he is to take the road to Danger, which leads into a great
+wood; or the road to Destruction, which leads into a wide field, full of
+dark mountains.
+
+
+
+
+XII
+
+"LORNA DOONE"
+
+
+The air of Devon and Somerset is full of literary germs. The best advice
+a London hack could give to a Gigadibs would be _Go west, young man_.
+The essential thing is to establish a residence south of Bristol, grow
+old along with Wessex, and inhale the atmosphere. Thousands of reverent
+pilgrims, on foot, on bicycle, and in automobile, are yearly following
+the tragic trails of Mr. Hardy's heroines; to a constantly increasing
+circle of interested observers, Mr. Eden Phillpotts is making the
+topography of Devon clearer than an ordnance map; if Mrs. Willcocks
+writes a few more novels like _The Wingless Victory_ and _A Man of
+Genius_, we shall soon all be talking about her--just wait and see; and
+in the summer season, when soft is the sun, the tops of coaches in North
+Devon and Somerset are packed with excited Americans, carrying Lornas
+instead of Baedekers. To the book-loving tourists, every inch of this
+territory is holy ground.
+
+Yet the author of our favourite romance was not by birth a Wessex man.
+Mr. Richard D. Blackmore (for, like the creator of _Robinson Crusoe_,
+his name is not nearly so well known as his work) first "saw the light"
+in Berkshire, the year being 1825. But he was exposed to the Wessex
+germs at the critical period of boyhood, actually going to Blundell's
+School at Tiverton, a small town in the heart of Devonshire, fourteen
+miles north of Exeter, at the union of Exe and Lowman rivers. To this
+same school he sent John Ridd, as we learn in the second paragraph of
+the novel:--
+
+     "John Ridd, the elder, churchwarden, and overseer, being a great
+     admirer of learning, and well able to write his name, sent me, his
+     only son, to be schooled at Tiverton, in the County of Devon. For
+     the chief boast of that ancient town (next to its woolen staple) is
+     a worthy grammar-school, the largest in the west of England,
+     founded and handsomely endowed in the year 1604 by Master Peter
+     Blundell, of that same place, clothier."
+
+From this institution young Blackmore proceeded to Exeter College,
+Oxford, where he laid the foundations of his English style by taking
+high rank in the classics. Like many potential poets and novelists, he
+studied law, and was called to the bar in 1852. But he cared little for
+the dusty purlieus of the Middle Temple, and not at all for city life:
+his father was a country parson, as it is the fashion for English
+fathers of men of letters to be, and the young man loved the peace and
+quiet of rural scenery. He finally made a home at Teddington, in
+Middlesex, and devoted himself to the avocation of fruit-growing. On
+this subject he became an authority, and his articles on gardening were
+widely read. Here he died in January, 1900.
+
+His death was mourned by many thousand persons who never saw him, and
+who knew nothing about his life. The public always loves the makers of
+its favourite books; but in the case of Mr. Blackmore, every reader of
+his masterpiece felt a peculiarly intimate relation with the man who
+wrote it. The story is so full of the milk of human kindness, its hero
+and heroine are so irresistibly attractive, and it radiates so wholesome
+and romantic a charm, that one cannot read it without feeling on the
+best possible terms with the author--as if both were intimate friends of
+long standing. For _Lorna Doone_ is a book we think we have always been
+reading; we can hardly recall the time when it had not become a part of
+our literary experience; just as it takes an effort to remember that
+there were days and years when we were not even aware of the existence
+of persons who are now indissolubly close. They have since become so
+necessary that we imagine life before we knew them must really have been
+more barren than it seemed.
+
+Like many successful novelists, Mr. Blackmore began his literary career
+by the publication of verse, several volumes of poems appearing from
+his pen during the years 1854-1860. Although he never entirely abandoned
+verse composition, which it was only too apparent that he wrote with his
+left hand, the coolness with which his Muse was received may have been a
+cause of his attempting the quite different art of the novel. It is
+pleasant to remember, however, that in these early years he translated
+Vergil's _Georgics_; combining his threefold love of the classics, of
+poetry, and of gardening. Of how much practical agricultural value he
+found the Mantuan bard, we shall never know.
+
+Contrary to a common supposition, _Lorna Doone_ was not his first story.
+He launched two ventures before his masterpiece--_Clara Vaughan_ in
+1864, and _Cradock Nowell_ in 1866. These won no applause, and have not
+emerged from the congenial oblivion in which they speedily foundered.
+After these false starts, the great book came out in 1869, with no blare
+of publisher's trumpet, with scanty notice from the critics, and with no
+notice of any kind from the public. In the preface to the twentieth
+edition, and his various prefaces are well worth reading, the author
+remarked:--
+
+     "What a lucky maid you are, my Lorna! When first you came from the
+     Western Moors nobody cared to look at you; the 'leaders of the
+     public taste' led none of it to make test of you. Having struggled
+     to the light of day, through obstruction and repulses, for a year
+     and a half you shivered in a cold corner, without a sun-ray. Your
+     native land disdained your voice, and America answered, 'No child
+     of mine'; knowing how small your value was, you were glad to get
+     your fare paid to any distant colony."
+
+The _Saturday Review_ for 5 November, 1870, uttered a few patronising
+words of praise. The book was called "a work of real excellence," but
+the reviewer timidly added, "We do not pretend to rank it with the
+acknowledged masterpieces of fiction." On the whole, there is good
+ground for gratitude that the public was so slow to see the "real
+excellence" of _Lorna_. A sudden blaze of popularity is sometimes so
+fierce as to consume its cause. Let us spend a few moments in devout
+meditation, while we recall the ashes of "the book of the year." The
+gradual dawn of Lorna's fame has assured her of a long and fair day.
+
+Possibly one of the reasons why this great romance made so small an
+impression was because it appeared at an unpropitious time. The sower
+sowed the seed; but the thorns of Reade and Trollope sprang up and
+choked them. These two novelists were in full action; and they kept the
+public busy. Realism was strong in the market; people did not know then,
+as we do now, that The _Cloister and the Hearth_ was worth all the rest
+of Charles Reade put together. Had _Lorna Doone_ appeared toward the
+end of the century, when the Romantic Revival was in full swing, it
+would have received a royal welcome. But how many would have recognised
+its superiority to the tinsel stuff of those recent days, full of
+galvanised knights and stuffed chatelaines? For _Lorna_ belongs to a
+class of fiction with which we were flooded in the nineties, though,
+compared with the ordinary representative of its kind, it is as a star
+to a glow-worm. Readers then enjoyed impossible characters, whose talk
+was mainly of "gramercy" and similar curiosities, for they had the
+opportunity to "revel in the glamour of a bogus antiquity." But an
+abundance of counterfeits does not lower the value of the real metal;
+and _Lorna_ is a genuine coin struck from the mint of historical
+romance. In the original preface its author modestly said:--
+
+     "This work is called a 'romance,' because the incidents,
+     characters, time, and scenery are alike romantic. And in shaping
+     this old tale, the writer neither dares, nor desires, to claim for
+     it the dignity or cumber it with the difficulty of an historic
+     novel."
+
+In warmth and colour, in correct visualisation, and in successful
+imitation of the prose of a bygone day (which no one has ever perfectly
+accomplished), it ranks not very far below the greatest of all English
+historical romances, _Henry Esmond_.
+
+_Lorna Doone_ is practically one more illustration of Single-Speech
+Hamilton. After its appearance, its author wrote and published steadily
+for thirty years; but the fact remains that not only is _Lorna_ his
+best-known work, but that his entire reputation hangs upon it. Many of
+his other stories are good, notably _Cripps the Carrier_ and
+_Perlycross_; the latter has a most ingenious plot; but these two now
+peacefully repose with their mates in undisturbed slumber at dusty
+library corners. They had an initial sale because they came from the
+hand that created _Lorna_; then they were lost in the welter of
+ephemeral literature. Mr. Blackmore offered his buyers all sorts of
+wares, but, after a momentary examination, they declined what was "just
+as good," and returned to their favourite, which, by the way, was never
+his; he ranked it third among his productions.
+
+For this novel is not only one of the best-loved books in English
+fiction, and stands magnificently the severe test of rereading, it is
+bound to have even more admirers in the future than it has ever yet
+enjoyed; it is visibly growing in reputation every year. It may be
+interesting to analyse some of its elements, in order to understand what
+has given it so assured a place. The main plot is simplicity itself. It
+is a history, however, that the world has always found entertaining, the
+history of the love of a strong man for a beautiful girl. They meet, he
+falls in love, he rescues her from peril, she goes up to London, becomes
+a great lady, returns, is dangerously wounded on her wedding-day,
+recovers, and they live happily for ever after--_voila tout_. A very
+simple plot, yet the telling fills two stout volumes, with the reader's
+interest maintained from first to last.
+
+It is told in the first person--the approved method of the historical
+romance. Professor Raleigh has admirably pointed out the virtues and
+defects of the three ways of composing a novel,--direct discourse by the
+chief actor, the exclusive employment of letters, and the "invisible and
+omniscient" impersonal author.[17] It is interesting to note, in
+passing, that our first English novelist, Defoe, adopted the first
+method; Richardson, our second novelist, took the second; and Fielding,
+our third novelist, took the third. Now, the great advantage of having
+John Ridd speak throughout is the gain in reality and vividness; it is
+as though we sat with him in the ingle, and obtained all our information
+at first hand. What is lost by narrowness of experience is made up in
+intensity; we follow him breathlessly, as Desdemona followed Othello,
+and he has every moment our burning sympathy. We participate more fully
+in his joys and sorrows, in the agony of his suspense; we share his
+final triumph. He is talking directly to us, and John Ridd is a good
+talker. He is the kind of man who appeals to all classes of listeners.
+He has the gentleness and modesty that are so becoming to great physical
+strength; the love of children, animals, and all helpless creatures;
+reverence for God, purity of heart, and a noble slowness to wrath. Such
+a man is simply irresistible, and we are sorry when he finishes his
+tale. The defect in this method of narration, which Mr. Blackmore has
+employed with such success, is the inevitable defect in all stories
+written in this manner, as Professor Raleigh has observed: "It takes
+from the novelist the privilege of killing his hero." When John Ridd is
+securely bound, and the guns of hostile soldiers are levelled at his
+huge bulk, with their fingers actually on the triggers, we laugh at
+ourselves for our high-beating hearts; for of course he is unkillable,
+else how could he be talking at this very moment?
+
+[17] _The English Novel_, Chapter VI.
+
+The plot of _Lorna Doone_, which, as we have observed, is very simple,
+is, nevertheless, skilfully complicated. It is not a surprise plot, like
+that of _A Pair of Blue Eyes_; we are not stunned by the last page. It
+is a suspense plot; we have a well-founded hope that all will come right
+in the end, and yet the author has introduced enough disturbing elements
+to put us occasionally in a maze. This artistic suspense is attained
+partly by the method of direct discourse; which, at the same time,
+develops the character of the hero. Big John repeats incidents, dwells
+lengthily on minute particulars, stops to enjoy the scenery, and makes
+mountains of stories out of molehills of fact. The second complication
+of the plot arises from the introduction of characters that apparently
+divert the course of the story without really doing so. There are
+nineteen important characters, all held well in hand; and a conspicuous
+example of a complicating personage is little Ruth Huckaback. She
+interferes in the main plot in an exceedingly clever way. The absorbing
+question in every reader's mind is, of course, Will John marry Lorna?
+Now Ruth's interviews with the hero are so skilfully managed, and with
+such intervals of time between, that on some pages she seems destined to
+be his bride. And, admirably drawn as her character is, when her
+artistic purpose in the plot is fully accomplished, she quietly fades
+out, with the significant tribute, "Ruth Huckaback is not married yet."
+
+There is also a subsidiary plot, dovetailed neatly into the main
+building. This is the story of the attractive highwayman, Tom Faggus,
+and his love for John's sister, Annie. Many pages are taken up with the
+adventures of this gentleman, who enters the novel on horseback (what a
+horse!) at the moment when the old drake is fighting for his life.
+Besides our interest in Tom himself, in his wild adventures, and in his
+reformation, we are interested in the conflict of his two passions, one
+for the bottle, and one for Annie, and we wonder which will win. This
+subsidiary love story is still further complicated by the introduction
+of young De Whichehalse; and in the struggle between John Ridd and the
+Doones, both Tom Faggus and the De Whichehalse family play important
+parts. It is interesting, too, to observe how events that seem at the
+time to be of no particular importance, turn out later to be highly
+significant; when, at the very beginning of the long story, the little
+boy, on his way home from school, meets the lady's maid, and shortly
+after sees the child borne away on the robber's saddle, we imagine all
+this is put in to enliven the journey, that it is just "detail"; long
+afterwards we find the artistic motive. In fact, one of the most notable
+virtues of this admirable plot is the constant introduction of matters
+apparently irrelevant and due to mere garrulity, such as the uncanny
+sound, for example, which prove after all to be essential to the course
+of the narrative.
+
+As for the characters, they impress us differently in different moods.
+For all John Ridd's prodigious strength, marvellous escapes, and
+astounding feats, his personality is so intensely human that he seems
+real. His _soul_, at any rate, is genuine, and wholly natural; his
+bodily activity--the extraction of Carver's biceps, the wrenching of
+the branch from the tree, the hurling of the cannon through the
+door--makes him a dim giant in a fairy story. When we think of the
+qualities of his mind and heart, he comes quite close; when we think of
+his physical prowess, he almost vanishes in the land of Fable. I
+remember the comment of an undergraduate--"John Ridd is as remote as
+Achilles; he is like a Greek myth."
+
+The women are all well drawn and individualised--except the heroine. I
+venture to say that no one has ever seen Lorna in his mind's eye. She is
+like a plate that will not develop. A very pretty girl with an
+affectionate disposition,--what more can be said? But so long as a Queen
+has beauty and dignity, she does not need to be interesting; and Lorna
+is the queen of this romance. John's mother and his two sisters are as
+like and unlike as members of the same family ought to be; they are real
+women. Ruth Huckaback and Gwenny Carfax are great additions to our
+literary acquaintances; each would make an excellent heroine for a
+realistic novel. They have the indescribable puzzling characteristics
+that we call feminine; sudden caprices, flashes of unexpected jealousy,
+deep loyal tenderness, unlimited capacity for self-sacrifice, and in the
+last analysis, Mystery.
+
+The humour of the story is spontaneous, and of great variety, running
+from broad mirth to whimsical subtlety. The first concerted attack on
+the Doones is comic opera burlesque; but the scenes of humour that
+delight us most are those describing friendly relations with beast and
+bird. The eye of the old drake, as he stared wildly from his precarious
+position, and the delight of the ducks as they welcomed his rescue;
+above all, Annie's care of the wild birds in the bitter cold.
+
+     "There was not a bird but knew her well, after one day of
+     comforting; and some would come to her hand, and sit, and shut one
+     eye, and look at her. Then she used to stroke their heads, and feel
+     their breasts, and talk to them; and not a bird of them all was
+     there but liked to have it done to him. And I do believe they would
+     eat from her hand things unnatural to them, lest she should be
+     grieved and hurt by not knowing what to do for them. One of them
+     was a noble bird, such as I had never seen before, of very fine
+     bright plumage, and larger than a missel-thrush. He was the hardest
+     of all to please; and yet he tried to do his best."
+
+Whatever may be the merits of Mr. Blackmore's published verse, there is
+more poetry in _Lorna Doone_ than in many volumes of formal rime. The
+wonderful descriptions of the country in shade and shine, in fog and
+drought, the pictures of the sunrise and the falling water, the
+"tumultuous privacy" of the snow-storms,--these are all descriptive
+poems. Every reader has noticed the peculiar rhythm of the style, and
+wondered if it were intentional. Hundreds of sentences here and there
+are perfect English hexameters; one can find them by opening the book at
+random, and reading aloud. But this peculiar element in the style goes
+much farther than isolated phrases. There are solid passages of steady
+rhythm, which might correctly be printed in verse form.[18]
+
+[18] A writer in the _Atlantic Monthly_ notes especially the closing
+paragraph of Chapter XXVIII, and parts of Chapter XXIX.
+
+Mr. Blackmore's personal character was so modest, unassuming, and
+lovable, that it is not difficult to guess the source of the purity,
+sweetness, and sincerity of his great book. If he were somewhat
+surprised at the utter coldness of its first reception, he never got
+over his amazement at the size and extent of its ultimate triumph. In
+the preface to the sixth edition, he said:--
+
+     "Few things have surprised me more, and nothing has more pleased
+     me, than the great success of this simple tale.... Therefore any
+     son of Devon may imagine, and will not grudge, the writer's delight
+     at hearing from a recent visitor to the west, that '_Lorna Doone_,
+     to a Devonshire man, is as good as clotted cream, almost!'
+
+     "Although not half so good as that, it has entered many a tranquil,
+     happy, pure, and hospitable home; and the author, while deeply
+     grateful for this genial reception, ascribes it partly to the fact
+     that his story contains no word or thought disloyal to its
+     birthright in the fairest county of England."
+
+Mr. Blackmore lived long enough to see an entirely different kind of
+"local colour" become conventional, where many a novelist, portraying
+his native town or the community in which he dwelt, emphasised with what
+skill he could command all its poverty, squalor, and meanness; the
+disgusting vices and malignant selfishness of its inhabitants; and after
+he had thus fouled his nest by representing it as a mass of filth,
+degradation, and sin, he imagined he had created a work of art. The
+author of _Lorna Doone_ had the satisfaction of knowing that he had
+inspired hundreds of thousands of readers with the love of his favourite
+west country, and with an intense desire to visit it. And being, like
+John Ridd, of a forgiving nature, he forgave America for its early
+neglect of his story; for being informed of the supremacy of _Lorna
+Doone_ in the hearts of American undergraduates, he remarked, in a
+letter to the present writer, "The good word of the young, who are at
+once the most intelligent and the most highly educated of a vast
+intellectual nation, augurs well for the continuance--at least for a
+generation--of my fortunate production."
+
+
+
+
+APPENDIX A
+
+NOVELS AS A UNIVERSITY STUDY
+
+
+Some fourteen years ago, in the pamphlet of elective courses of study
+open to the senior and junior classes of Yale College, I announced a new
+course called "Modern Novels." The course and its teacher immediately
+became the object of newspaper notoriety, which spells academic
+damnation. From every State in the Union long newspaper clippings were
+sent to me, in which my harmless little pedagogical scheme was
+discussed--often under enormous headlines--as a revolutionary idea. It
+was praised by some, denounced by others, but thoroughly advertised, so
+that, for many months, I received letters from all parts of the Western
+Hemisphere, asking for the list of novels read and the method pursued in
+studying them. During six months these letters averaged three a day, and
+they came from the north, south, east, and west, from Alaska, Hawaii,
+Central and South America. The dust raised by all this hubbub crossed
+the Atlantic. The course was gravely condemned in a column editorial in
+the London _Daily Telegraph_, and finally received the crowning honour
+of a parody in _Punch_.
+
+Things have changed somewhat in the last ten years, and although I have
+never repeated my one year's experiment, I believe that it would be
+perfectly safe to do so. Not only does the production of new novels
+continue at constantly accelerating speed, but critical books on the
+novel have begun to increase and multiply in all directions. At least
+twenty such works now stand on my shelves, the latest of which (by
+Selden L. Whitcomb) is frankly called "The Study of a Novel," and boldly
+begins: "This volume is the result of practical experience in teaching
+the novel, and its aim is primarily pedagogical."
+
+The objections usually formulated against novels as a university study
+are about as follows: (_a_) the study of fiction is unacademic--that is,
+lacking in dignity; (_b_) students will read too many novels anyway, and
+the emphasis should therefore be thrown on other forms of literary art;
+(_c_) most recent and contemporary fiction is worthless, and if novels
+are to be taught at all, the titles selected should be confined entirely
+to recognised classics; (_d_) many of the novels of to-day are immoral,
+and the reading of them will corrupt rather than develop adolescent
+minds; (_e_) they are too "easy," too interesting, and a course confined
+to them is totally lacking in mental discipline. These objections, each
+and all, contain some truth, and demand a serious answer.
+
+That the study of fiction is unacademic is a weighty argument, but its
+weight is the mass of custom and prejudice rather than solid thought. In
+old times, the curriculum had little to do with real life, so that the
+most scholarly professors and the most promising pupils were often
+plentifully lacking in common sense. Students gifted with real
+independence of mind, marked with an alert interest in the life and
+thought about them, chafed irritably under the old-fashioned course of
+study, and often treated it with neglect or open rebellion. What Thomas
+Gray said of the Cambridge curriculum constitutes a true indictment
+against eighteenth-century universities; and it was not until very
+recent times that such studies as history, European literature, modern
+languages, political economy, natural sciences, and the fine arts were
+thought to have equal academic dignity with the trinity of Latin, Greek,
+and mathematics. There are, indeed, many able and conscientious men who
+still believe that this trinity cannot be successfully rivalled by any
+other possible group of studies. Now the novel is the most prominent
+form of modern literary art; and if modern literature is to be studied
+at all, fiction cannot be overlooked. The profound change brought about
+in university curricula, caused largely by the elective system, is
+simply the bringing of college courses of study into closer contact
+with human life, and the recognition that what young men need is a
+general preparation to live a life of active usefulness in modern social
+relations.
+
+That students read too many novels anyway--that is, in proportion to
+their reading in history and biography--is probably true. But the
+primary object of a course in novel-reading is not to make the student
+read more novels, instead of less, nor to substitute the reading of
+fiction for the reading of other books. The real object is (after a
+cheerful recognition of the fact that he will read novels anyway) to
+persuade him to read them intelligently, to observe the difference
+between good novels and bad, and so to become impatient and disgusted
+with cheap, sensational, and counterfeit specimens of the novelist's
+art.
+
+    "The common problem, yours, mine, everyone's,
+     Is--not to fancy what were fair in life
+     Provided it could be--but, finding first
+     What may be, then find how to make it fair
+     Up to our means: a very different thing!
+     No abstract intellectual plan of life
+     Quite irrespective of life's plainest laws,
+     But one, a man, who is man and nothing more,
+     May lead within a world which (by your leave)
+     Is Rome or London, not Fool's Paradise."
+
+That much of contemporary fiction is worthless, and that the novels
+selected should be classics, is a twofold statement, of which the first
+phrase is true and the second a _non sequitur_. Much ancient and
+mediaeval literature read in college is worthless in itself; it is read
+because it illustrates the language, or represents some literary form,
+or because it throws light on the customs and ideas of the time. The
+fact that a certain obscure work was written in the year 1200 does not
+necessarily prove that it is more valuable for study than one written in
+1909. Now it so happens that the modern novel has become more and more
+the mirror of modern ideas; and for a student who really wishes to know
+what people are thinking about all over the world to-day, the novels of
+Tolstoi, Bjoernson, Sudermann, and Thomas Hardy cannot wisely be
+neglected. Why should the study of the contemporary novel and the
+contemporary drama be tabooed when in other departments of research the
+aim is to be as contemporary as possible? We have courses in social
+conditions that actually investigate slums. I am not for a moment
+pleading that the study of modern novels and modern art should supplant
+the study of immortal masterpieces; but merely that they should have
+their rightful place, and not be regarded either with contempt or as
+unworthy of serious treatment. The two most beneficial ways to study a
+novel are to regard it, first, as an art-form, and secondly as a
+manifestation of intellectual life; from neither point of view should
+the contemporary novel be wholly neglected.
+
+That many of the novels of to-day are immoral is true, but it is still
+more true of the classics. The proportion of really immoral books to the
+total production is probably less to-day than it ever was before; in
+fact, there are an immense number of excellent contemporary novels which
+are spotless, something that cannot be said of the classics of antiquity
+or of the great majority of literary works published prior to the
+nineteenth century. If immorality be the cry, what shall we say about
+Aristophanes or Ovid? How does the case stand with the comedies of
+Dryden or with the novels of Henry Fielding? No, it is undoubtedly true
+that the teacher who handles modern fiction can more easily find a
+combination of literary excellence and purity of tone than he could in
+any previous age.
+
+That a course in novels lacks mental discipline and is too easy depends
+mainly on the teacher and his method. As regards the time consumed in
+preparation, it is probable that a student would expend three or four
+times the number of hours on a course in novels than he would in ancient
+languages, where, unfortunately, the use of a translation is all but
+universal; and the translation is fatal to mental discipline. But it is
+not merely a matter of hours; novels can be taught in such a way as to
+produce the best kind of mental discipline, which consists, first, in
+compelling a student to do his own thinking, and, secondly, to train him
+properly in the expression of what ideas he has.
+
+
+
+
+APPENDIX B
+
+THE TEACHER'S ATTITUDE TOWARD CONTEMPORARY LITERATURE
+
+
+Two things must be admitted at the start--first, that no person is
+qualified to judge the value of new books who is not well acquainted
+with the old ones; second, that the only test of the real greatness of
+any book is Time. It is, of course, vain to hope that any remarks made
+on contemporary authors will not be misrepresented, but I have placed
+two axioms at the beginning of this article in order to clear the
+ground. I am not advocating the abandonment of the study of Homer and
+Vergil, or proposing to substitute in their stead the study of Hall
+Caine, Mrs. Ward, and Marie Corelli. I do not believe that Mr. Pinero is
+a greater dramatist than Sophokles, or that the mental discipline gained
+by reading _The Jungle_ is equivalent to that obtained in the mastery of
+Euclid.
+
+I am merely pleading that every thoughtful man who is alive in this year
+of grace should not attempt to live his whole life in the year 400 B.C.,
+even though he be so humble an individual as a teacher. The very word
+"teacher" means something more than "scholar"; and scholarship means
+something more than the knowledge of things that are dead. A good
+teacher will remember that the boys and girls who come under his
+instruction are not all going to spend their lives in the pursuit of
+technical learning. It is his business to influence them; and he cannot
+exert a powerful influence without some interest in the life and thought
+of his own day, in the environment in which his pupils exist. I believe
+that the cardinal error of a divinity-school education is that the
+candidate for the ministry spends over half his time and energy in the
+laborious study of Hebrew, whereas he should study the subjects that
+primarily interest not his colleagues, but his audience.
+
+                                    "Priests
+    Should study passion; how else cure mankind,
+    Who come for help in passionate extremes?"
+
+A preacher who knows Hebrew, Greek, systematic theology, New Testament
+interpretation, and who knows nothing about literature, history, art,
+and human nature, is grotesquely unfitted for his noble profession.
+
+In every age it has been the fashion to ridicule and decry the literary
+production of that particular time. I suppose that the greatest creative
+period that the world has ever known occurred in England during the
+years 1590-1616, and here is what Ben Jonson said in 1607: "Now,
+especially in dramatic, or, as they term it, stage-poetry, nothing but
+ribaldry, profanation, blasphemy, all license of offence to God and man
+is practised. I dare not deny a great part of this, and am sorry I dare
+not." In 1610 he wrote, "Thou wert never more fair in the way to be
+cozened, than in this age, in poetry, especially in plays; wherein, now
+the concupiscence of dances and of antics so reigneth, as to run away
+from nature and be afraid of her, is the only point of art that tickles
+the spectators." And in 1611 he said, "In so thick and dark an ignorance
+as now almost covers the age ... you dare, in these jig-given times, to
+countenance a legitimate poem." And the age which he damned is now
+regarded as the world's high-water mark!
+
+A man who teaches physics and chemistry is supposed to be familiar not
+only with the history of his subject, but its latest manifestations;
+with the work of his contemporaries. A man who teaches political economy
+and sociology must read the most recent books on these themes both in
+Europe and America--nay, he must read the newspapers and study the
+markets, or he will be outstripped by his own pupils. A man who teaches
+drawing and painting should not only know the history of art, but its
+latest developments. And yet, when the teacher of literature devotes a
+small portion of the time of his pupils to the contemplation of
+contemporary poets, novelists, and dramatists, he is not only blamed for
+doing so, but some teachers who are ignorant of the writers of their own
+day boast of their ignorance with true academic pride.
+
+A teacher cannot read every book that appears; he cannot neglect the
+study and teaching of the recognised classics; but his attitude toward
+the writers of his own time should not be one of either indifference or
+contempt. The teacher of English literature should not be the last man
+in the world to discover the name of an author whom all the world is
+talking about. And I believe that every great university should offer,
+under proper restrictions, at least one course in the contemporary
+drama, or in contemporary fiction, or in some form of contemporary
+literary art. The Germans are generally regarded as the best scholars in
+the world, and they never think it beneath their dignity to recognise
+living authors of distinction. While the British public were condemning
+in true British fashion an author whom they had not read--Henrik
+Ibsen--German universities were offering courses exclusively devoted to
+the study of his works. Imagine a course in Ibsen at Oxford!
+
+But not only should the teacher take an intelligent interest in
+contemporary authors who have already won a wide reputation, he should
+be eternally watchful, eternally hopeful--ready to detect signs of
+promise in the first books of writers whose names are wholly unknown.
+This does not mean that he should exaggerate the merits of every fresh
+work, nor beslobber with praise every ambitious quill-driver. On the
+contrary,--if there be occasion to give an opinion at all,--he should
+not hesitate to condemn what seems to him shallow, trivial, or
+counterfeit, no matter how big a "seller" the object in his vision may
+be. But his sympathies should be warm and keen, and his mind always
+responsive, when a new planet swims into his ken. One of the most joyful
+experiences of my life came to me some years ago when I read _Bob, Son
+of Battle_ with the unknown name Alfred Ollivant on the title-page. It
+was worth wading through tons of trash to find such a jewel.
+
+And is the literature of our generation really slight and mean? By
+"Contemporary Literature" we include perhaps authors who have written or
+who are writing during the lifetime of those who are now, let us say,
+thirty years old. Contemporary literature would then embrace, in the
+drama, Ibsen, Bjoernson, Victor Hugo, Henri Becque, Rostand, Maeterlinck,
+Sudermann, Hauptmann, Pinero, Jones, and others; in the novel, Turgenev,
+Tolstoi, Dostoievsky, Bjoernson, Hugo, Daudet, Zola, Maupassant, Heyse,
+Sudermann, Hardy, Meredith, Stevenson, Kipling, Howells, Mark Twain,
+and many others; in poetry, to speak of English writers alone, Tennyson,
+Browning, Arnold, Swinburne, Morris, Kipling, Phillips, Watson,
+Thompson, and others. Those who live one hundred years from now will
+know more about the permanent value of the works of these men than we
+do; but are these names really of no importance to teachers whose
+speciality is literature?
+
+
+
+
+APPENDIX C
+
+TWO POEMS
+
+
+It is interesting to compare the two following poems, written by two
+distinguished English novelists, both men of fine intelligence, noble
+character, and absolute sincerity. Mr. Hardy's poem appeared in the
+_Fortnightly Review_, for 1 January, 1907.
+
+
+NEW YEAR'S EVE
+
+BY THOMAS HARDY
+
+    "I have finished another year," said God,
+       "In grey, green, white, and brown;
+     I have strewn the leaf upon the sod,
+     Sealed up the worm within the clod,
+       And let the last sun down."
+
+    "And what's the good of it?" I said,
+       "What reasons made You call
+     From formless void this earth I tread,
+     When nine-and-ninety can be read
+       Why nought should be at all?
+
+    "Yea, Sire; why shaped You us, 'who in
+       This tabernacle groan'?--
+     If ever a joy be found herein,
+     Such joy no man had wished to win
+       If he had never known!"
+
+     Then He: "My labours logicless
+       You may explain; not I:
+     Sense-sealed I have wrought, without a guess
+     That I evolved a Consciousness
+       To ask for reasons why!
+
+    "Strange, that ephemeral creatures who
+       By my own ordering are,
+     Should see the shortness of my view,
+     Use ethic tests I never knew,
+       Or made provision for!"
+
+     He sank to raptness as of yore,
+       And opening New Year's Day
+     Wove it by rote as theretofore,
+     And went on working evermore
+       In his unweeting way.
+
+
+DOMINUS ILLUMINATIO MEA
+
+BY RICHARD DODDRIDGE BLACKMORE
+
+    1
+
+    In the hour of death, after this life's whim,
+    When the heart beats low, and the eyes grow dim,
+    And pain has exhausted every limb--
+      The lover of the Lord shall trust in Him.
+
+    2
+
+    When the will has forgotten the life-long aim,
+    And the mind can only disgrace its fame,
+    And a man is uncertain of his own name,
+      The power of the Lord shall fill this frame.
+
+    3
+
+    When the last sigh is heaved and the last tear shed,
+    And the coffin is waiting beside the bed,
+    And the widow and the child forsake the dead,
+      The angel of the Lord shall lift this head.
+
+    4
+
+    For even the purest delight may pall,
+    The power must fail, and the pride must fall,
+    And the love of the dearest friends grow small--
+      But the glory of the Lord is all in all.
+
+This poem, with the signature "R. D. B. in memoriam M. F. G." first
+appeared in the _University Magazine_ in 1879. Although it has been
+included in some anthologies, the author's name was kept an absolute
+secret until July, 1909. In the _Athenaeum_ for 3 July, 1909, was printed
+an interesting letter from Agnes E. Cook, by which we learn that the
+late Mr. Blackmore actually _dreamed_ this poem, in its exact language
+and metre. The letter from the author which was published in the same
+_Athenaeum_ article, gives the facts connected with this extraordinary
+dream.
+
+
+     Teddn Jany 5th 1879.
+     My Dear Sir.
+
+     Having lately been at the funeral of a most dear relation I was
+     there again (in a dream) last night, and heard the mourners sing
+     the lines enclosed, which impressed me so that I was able to write
+     them without change of a word this morning. I never heard or read
+     them before to my knowledge. They do not look so well on paper as
+     they sounded; but if you like to print them, here they are. Only
+     please not to put my name beyond initials or send me money for
+     them. With all good wishes to Mrs. Cook and yourself
+
+     Very truly yours
+     R. D. Blackmore.
+     K Cook Esqre L.L.D.
+
+
+
+
+LIST OF PUBLICATIONS
+
+BY ANDREW KEOGH
+
+
+[The twelve authors are in alphabetical order. The books of each are in
+chronological order, the assigned dates being those of the publishers'
+trade journals in which the fact of publication was first recorded.
+Novels originally issued as serials have a note giving the name and date
+of the original magazine.]
+
+BJOeRNSTJERNE BJOeRNSON
+
+8 December 1832--
+
+[Including only works that have been translated into English.]
+
+   1857, Sept. 1. Synnoeve Solbakken. Christiania. (_Illustreret
+     Folkeblad_, 1857.)--Trust and Trial. [A translation by Mary
+     Howitt.] London, Hurst, Sept. 15, 1858.--Love and Life in Norway.
+     Tr. by the Hon. Augusta Bethell and A. Plesner. London, Cassell
+     [1870].--Synnoeve Solbakken. Tr. by R. B. Anderson. Boston,
+     Houghton, 1881.--Synnoeve Solbakken. Given in English by Julie
+     Sutter. London, Macmillan, 1881.
+
+   1858. Arne. Bergen, 1858 [1859].--Arne; or, Peasant Life in
+     Norway. Tr. by a Norwegian. Bergen [1861].--Arne: a Sketch of
+     Norwegian Country Life. Tr. by A. Plesner and S. Rugely-Powers.
+     London, Strahan, Aug. 1, 1866.--Arne. Tr. by R. B. Anderson.
+     Boston, Houghton, 1881.--Arne, and the Fisher Lassie. Tr. with an
+     introd. by W. Low. London, Bell, 1890.
+
+   1860. En glad Gut. Christiania. (_Aftenbladet._)--Ovind. Tr. by S.
+     and E. Hjerleid. London, 1869.--The Happy Boy. Tr. by Helen R.
+     Gade. Boston, Sever, 1870.--A Happy Boy. Tr. by R. B. Anderson.
+     Boston, Houghton, 1881.--The Happy Lad, and other Tales. London,
+     Blackie, 1882.
+
+   1862. Sigurd Slembe. Copenhagen.--Sigurd Slembe: a Dramatic
+     Trilogy. Tr. by W. M. Payne. Boston, Houghton, Oct. 20, 1888.
+
+   1865. De Nygifte. Copenhagen.--The Newly Married Couple. Tr. by S.
+     and E. Hjerleid. London, Simpkin, 1870.
+
+   1868, Apr. Fiskerjenten. Copenhagen.--The Fisher-Maiden: a
+     Norwegian Tale. From the author's German edition by M. E. Niles.
+     N.Y., Holt, 1869.--The Fishing Girl. Tr. by A. Plesner and F.
+     Richardson. London, Cassell [1870].--The Fisher Girl. Tr. by S.
+     and E. Hjerleid. London, Simpkin, 1871 [1870].--The Fisher Maiden.
+     Tr. by R. B. Anderson. Boston, Houghton, 1882.--Arne and the
+     Fisher Lassie. Tr. with an introd. by W. Low. London, Bell, 1890.
+
+   1873. Brude-Slaatten: Fortaelling. Copenhagen.--Life by the Fells
+     and Fiords. A Norwegian Sketch-book [containing a translation of
+     the Bridal March]. London, Strahan, 1879.--The Bridal March and
+     other Stories. Tr. by R. B. Anderson. Boston, 1882.--The Wedding
+     March. Tr. by M. Ford. N.Y., Munro, 1882.
+
+   1877, Oct. Magnhild: en Fortaelling. Copenhagen.--Magnhild. Tr. by
+     R. B. Anderson. Boston, Houghton, 1883 [1882].
+
+   1879, Aug. Kaptejn Mansana. Copenhagen.--Captain Mansana, and
+     other Stories. Tr. by R. B. Anderson. Cambridge, Mass.,
+     1882.--Captain Mansana. N.Y., Munro, 1882.--Captain Mansana,
+     and Mother's Hands. N.Y., Macmillan, 1897.
+
+   1883, Sept. En Hanske: Skuespil. Copenhagen.--A Glove: a Prose
+     Play. (_Poet-Lore_, Jan.-July, 1892.)--A Gauntlet. Tr. by H. L.
+     Braekstad. London, French [1890].--A Gauntlet. Tr. by Osman
+     Edwards. London, Longmans, 1894.
+
+     Nov. Over AEvne. Forste Stykke. Copenhagen.--Pastor Sang: being the
+     Norwegian drama Over AEvne [Part 1]. Tr. by W. Wilson. London,
+     Longmans, 1893.
+
+   1884, Oct. Det flager i Byen og pa Havnen. Copenhagen.--The
+     Heritage of the Kurts. Tr. by C. Fairfax. London, Heinemann, 1892.
+
+   1887, Aug. Stov. (Originally published in 1882 in I. Hfte _Nyt
+     Tidsskrift_.)--Magnhild and Dust. N.Y., Macmillan, 1897.
+
+   1889, Oct. Pa Guds Veje. Copenhagen.--In God's Way. N.Y., Lovell,
+     1889.--In God's way: a Novel. Tr. by E. Carmichael. London,
+     Heinemann, 1890.
+
+   1895, Dec. Over AEvne. Andet Stykke. Copenhagen.
+
+   1898, Nov. Paul Lange og Tora Parsberg. Copenhagen.--Tr. by H. L.
+     Braekstad. London, N.Y., Harper, Feb., 1899.
+
+   1901, Apr. Laboremus. Copenhagen.--Laboremus. London, Chapman,
+     June 8, 1901. (First published as literary supplement to the
+     _Fortnightly Review_, May, 1901.)
+
+   1906, Oct. Mary: Fortaelling. Copenhagen.--Mary. Tr. by Mary
+     Morison. N.Y., Macmillan, Sept. 4, 1909.
+
+In addition to the works listed above, most of the tales and sketches in
+Bjoernson's three collections (Smaastykker, Bergen, 1860; Fortaellinger,
+Copenhagen, 1872; Nye Fortaellinger, Copenhagen, 1894) have appeared in
+English in one or other of the collections listed below:--
+
+   Life by the Fells and Fiords: a Norwegian Sketch-book. London, Strahan
+     [1879]. _Contents_: Arne.--The Bridal March.--The Churchyard and the
+     Railroad.--The Father.--Faithfulness.--Thrond.--Blakken.--A Life's
+     Enigma.--Checked Imagination.--The Eagle's Nest.--A Dangerous
+     Wooing.--The Brothers' Quarrel.--The Eagle and the Fir.--Poems.
+
+   Works. American edition, translated by R. B. Anderson. 3 v. Boston,
+     Houghton, 1884. _Contents_: v. 1. Synnoeve Solbakken.--Arne.--Early
+     Tales and Sketches: The Railroad and the Churchyard.--Thrond.--A
+     Dangerous Wooing.--The Bear-Hunter.--The Eagle's Nest.--v. 2.
+     A Happy Boy.--The Fisher Maiden.--Tales and Sketches:
+     Blakken.--Fidelity.--A Problem of Life.--v. 3. The Bridal
+     March.--Captain Mansana.--Magnhild.--Dust.
+
+   Novels. Edited by Edmund Gosse. London, Heinemann; N.Y., Macmillan.
+     13 v. 1894-1909. _Contents_: v. 1. Synnoeve Solbakken. Given in
+     English by Julie Sutter. A new ed.... 1895.--v. 2. Arne. Tr. by
+     W. Low. 1895.--v. 3. A Happy Boy. Tr. by Mrs. W. Archer. 1896.--v. 4.
+     The Fisher Lass. 1896.--v. 5. The Bridal March, and One Day.
+     1896.--v. 6. Magnhild and Dust. 1897.--v. 7. Captain Mansana, and
+     Mother's Hands. 1897.--v. 8. Absalom's Hair, and A Painful Memory.
+     1898.--v. 9-10. In God's Way. Tr. by E. Carmichael. 1908.--v. 11-12.
+     The Heritage of the Kurts. Tr. by Cecil Fairfax. 1908.--v. 13. Mary.
+     Tr. by Mary Morison. 1909.
+
+
+RICHARD DODDRIDGE BLACKMORE 7 June 1825-20 January 1900
+
+   1854, May 1. Poems by Melanter. London, Saunders. July. Epullia,
+     and other Poems. By the Author of Poems by Melanter. London, Hope.
+
+   1855, Jan. 16. The Bugle of the Black Sea; or, The British in the
+     East. By Melanter. London, Hardwicke.
+
+   1860, Oct. 27. The Fate of Franklin. London, Hardwicke. 1862, July
+     31. The Farm and Fruit of Old: a Translation in Verse of the first
+     and second Georgics of Virgil. By a Market Gardener. London, Low.
+
+   1864, Mar. 31. Clara Vaughan: a Novel. 3 vols. London, Macmillan.
+
+   1866, Sept. 1. Cradock Nowell: A Tale of the New Forest. 3 vols.
+     London, Chapman. (_Macmillan's Magazine_, May, 1865-Aug., 1866.)
+
+   1869, Apr. 1. Lorna Doone: a Romance of Exmoor. 3 vols. London,
+     Low.
+
+   1871, Apr. 1. The Georgics of Virgil, translated. London, Low.
+
+   1872, Aug. 2. The Maid of Sker. 3 vols. London, Blackwood.
+     (_Blackwood's Magazine_, Aug., 1871-July, 1872.)
+
+   1875, May 1. Alice Lorraine: a Tale of the South Downs. 3 vols.
+     London, Low. (_Blackwood's Magazine_, Mar., 1874-Apr., 1875.)
+
+   1876, June 1. Cripps the Carrier: a Woodland Tale. 3 vols. London,
+     Low.
+
+   1877, Nov. 16. Erema; or, My Father's Sin. 3 vols. London, Smith,
+     Elder. (_Cornhill Magazine_, Nov., 1876-Nov., 1877.)
+
+   1880, May 15. Mary Anerley: a Yorkshire Tale. 3 vols. London, Low.
+     (_Fraser's Magazine_, July, 1879-Sept., 1880.)
+
+   1881, Dec. 31. Christowell: a Dartmoor Tale. 3 vols. London, Low.
+     (_Good Words_, Jan.-Dec., 1881.)
+
+   1884, May 15. The Remarkable History of Sir Thomas Upmore. 2 vols.
+     London, Low.
+
+   1887, Mar. 1. Springhaven: a Tale of the Great War. 3 vols.
+     London, Low. (_Harper's Magazine_, Apr., 1886-Apr., 1887.)
+
+   1889, Dec. 31. Kit and Kitty: a Story of West Middlesex. 3 vols.
+     London, Low, 1890 [1889].
+
+   1894, Aug. 25. Perlycross: a Tale of the Western Hills. 3 vols.
+     London, Low.
+
+   1895, June 22. Fringilla: Some Tales in Verse. London, Mathews.
+
+   1896, Mar. 21. Tales from the Telling-House. London, Low.
+
+   1897, Nov. 27. Dariel: a Romance of Surrey. London, Blackwood.
+
+
+SAMUEL LANGHORNE CLEMENS
+
+30 November 1835-
+
+   1867, May 1. The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County, and
+     other Sketches. Edited by John Paul. N.Y., Amer. News Co.
+
+   1869, Oct. 1. The Innocents Abroad; or, The New Pilgrim's Progress.
+     Hartford, American Publ. Co.
+
+   1871. Mark Twain's Autobiography and First Romance. N.Y., Sheldon.
+
+   1872, Feb. 29. Roughing it. Hartford, American Publ. Co.
+
+   1874, Jan. 3. The Gilded Age: a Tale of To-Day. By Mark Twain and
+     Charles Dudley Warner. Hartford, American Publ. Co. Mark Twain's
+     Sketches. [No. 1.] N.Y., American News Co.
+
+   1875. Mark Twain's Sketches, new and old. Now first published in
+     complete form. Hartford, American Publ. Co.
+
+   1876, Dec. 23. The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. Hartford, American
+     Publ. Co.
+
+   1877, Sept. 22. A True Story, and The Recent Carnival of Crime.
+     Boston, Osgood.
+
+   1878, Mar. 23. Punch, Brothers, Punch! and other Sketches. N.Y.,
+     Slote.
+
+   1880, July 10. A Tramp Abroad. Hartford, American Publ. Co.
+
+   1882, Jan. 21. The Prince and the Pauper. Boston, Osgood.
+
+     June 17. The Stolen White Elephant, etc. Boston, Osgood.
+
+   1883, July 7. Life on the Mississippi. Boston, Osgood.
+
+   1884, Dec. 31. The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, Tom Sawyer's
+     Comrade. London, Chatto. (N.Y., Webster, Mar. 14, 1885.)
+
+   1889, Dec. 28. A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court: a
+     Satire. N.Y., Webster.
+
+   1892, Apr. 9. Merry Tales. N.Y., Webster.
+
+   1893, Apr. 29. The L1,000,000 Bank-note, and other new stories.
+     N.Y., Webster.
+
+   1894, Mar. 2. The Tragedy of Pudd'nhead Wilson, and the comedy
+     Those Extraordinary Twins. Hartford, American Publ. Co.
+
+     Apr. 15. Tom Sawyer Abroad, by Huck Finn. Edited by Mark Twain.
+     N.Y., Webster.
+
+   1896, May 9. Personal Recollections of Joan of Arc. By the Sieur
+     Louis de Conte (her page and secretary). Freely translated out of
+     the ancient French into modern English from the original
+     unpublished manuscript in the National Archives of France, by Jean
+     Francois Alden. N.Y., Harper.
+
+   1897, Apr. 3. The American Claimant, and other Stories and
+     Sketches. N.Y., Harper.
+
+     Apr. 17. How to tell a story, and other Essays. N.Y., Harper.
+
+   1897, Dec. 11. Following the Equator: a Journey around the World.
+     Hartford, American Publ. Co. (London, Chatto, under title "More
+     Tramps Abroad.")
+
+   1900, June 23. The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg, and other Stories
+     and Essays. N.Y., Harper.
+
+   1902, Apr. 19. A Double-barrelled Detective Story. N.Y., Harper.
+
+   1904, Apr. 16. Extracts from Adam's Diary, translated from the
+     Original Manuscript. N.Y., Harper.
+
+     Oct. 1. A Dog's Tale. N.Y., Harper.
+
+   1905, Oct. 7. Editorial Wild Oats. N.Y., Harper.
+
+     Nov. 4. King Leopold's Soliloquy: a Defence of his Congo Rule.
+     Boston, Warren.
+
+   1906, June 16. Eve's Diary, translated from the Original
+     Manuscript. N.Y., Harper.
+
+     Oct. 13. The $30,000 Bequest, and other Stories. N.Y., Harper.
+
+   1907, Feb. 16. Christian Science, with notes containing corrections
+     to date. N.Y., Harper.
+
+     Nov. 9. A Horse's Tale. N.Y., Harper.
+
+   1909, Apr. 17. Is Shakespeare dead? From my Autobiography. N.Y.,
+     Harper.
+
+     Oct. 23. Extract from Captain Stormfield's Visit to Heaven. N.Y.,
+     Harper.
+
+
+WILLIAM DE MORGAN
+
+16 November 1839-
+
+   1906, July 28. Joseph Vance: an ill-written Autobiography. London,
+     Heinemann. (N.Y., Holt, Sept. 22.)
+
+   1907, June 15. Alice-for-Short: a Dichronism. N.Y., Holt. (London,
+     Heinemann, June 29.)
+
+   1908, Feb. 8. Somehow Good. N.Y., Holt. (London, Heinemann, Feb.
+     15.)
+
+   1909, Nov. 16. It Never Can Happen Again. N.Y., Holt. (London,
+     Heinemann, 2 v.)
+
+
+THOMAS HARDY
+
+2 June 1840-
+
+   1871, Apr. 1. Desperate Remedies: a Novel. 3 vols. London, Tinsley.
+
+   1872, Dec. 9. Under the Greenwood Tree: a Rural Painting of the
+     Dutch School. 2 vols. London, Tinsley.
+
+   1873, June 2. A Pair of Blue Eyes: a Novel. 3 vols. London,
+     Tinsley. (_Tinsley's Magazine_, Sept., 1872-July, 1873.)
+
+   1874, Dec. 8. Far from the Madding Crowd. 2 vols. London, Smith,
+     Elder. (_Cornhill Magazine_, Jan.-Dec., 1874.)
+
+   1876, Apr. 15. The Hand of Ethelberta: a Comedy in Chapters. 2
+     vols. London, Smith, Elder. (_Cornhill Magazine_, July, 1875-May,
+     1876.)
+
+   1878, Nov. 16. The Return of the Native. 3 vols. London, Smith,
+     Elder. (Belgravia, Jan.-Dec., 1878.)
+
+   1880, Nov. 1. The Trumpet-Major: a Tale. 3 vols. London, Smith,
+     Elder. (_Good Words_, Jan.-Dec., 1880.)
+
+   1881, Dec. 31. A Laodicean; or, The Castle of the De Stancys: a
+     Story of To-day. 3 vols, London, Low. (_Harper's Magazine_, Jan.,
+     1881-Jan., 1882.)
+
+   1882, Nov. 1. Two on a Tower: a Romance. 3 vols. London, Low.
+     (_Atlantic Monthly_, May-Dec., 1882.)
+
+   1884, Jan. 25. The Romantic Adventures of a Milkmaid: a Novel.
+     N.Y., Munro. (_Graphic_, Summer No. for 1883.)
+
+   1886, June 1. The Mayor of Casterbridge: the Life and Death of a
+     Man of Character. 2 vols. London, Smith, Elder. (_Graphic_, Jan.
+     2-May 15, 1886.)
+
+   1887, Apr. 1. The Woodlanders. 3 vols. London, Macmillan.
+     (_Macmillan's Magazine_, May, 1886-April, 1887.)
+
+   1888, May 15. Wessex Tales, Strange, Lively, and Commonplace. 2
+     vols. London, Macmillan.
+
+   1891, June 6. A Group of Noble Dames. London, Osgood. (_Graphic_,
+     Christmas No., 1890.)
+
+     Dec. 12. Tess of the D'Urbervilles: a Pure Woman faithfully
+     presented. 3 vols. London, Osgood, 1892 [1891]. (_Graphic_, July
+     4-Dec. 26, 1891.)
+
+   1894, Feb. 24. Life's Little Ironies: a Set of Tales. London,
+     Osgood.
+
+   1895, Nov. 9. Jude the Obscure. London, Osgood. (_Harper's
+     Magazine_, Dec., 1894-Nov., 1895. Began as "The Simpletons"; then
+     changed its title to "Hearts Insurgent.")
+
+   1897, Mar. 20. The Well-Beloved: A Sketch of a Temperament. London,
+     Osgood. (The Pursuit of the Well-Beloved, _Illustrated London
+     News_, Oct.-Dec. 1892.)
+
+   1898, Dec. 24. Wessex Poems, and Other Verses. London, Harper.
+
+   1901, Nov. 30. Poems of the Past and the Present. London, Harper.
+
+   1904, Jan. 23. The Dynasts: a Drama of the Napoleonic Wars. Part 1.
+     London, Macmillan.
+
+   1906, Feb. 17. The Dynasts. Part 2. Macmillan.
+
+   1908, Feb. 22. The Dynasts. Part 3. Macmillan.
+
+
+WILLIAM DEAN HOWELLS
+
+1 March 1837-
+
+   1860. Poems of Two Friends. By John James Piatt and W. D. Howells.
+     Columbus, Follett.
+
+     Lives and Speeches of Abraham Lincoln and Hannibal Hamlin. N.Y.,
+     Townsend. [The Biography of Hamlin is by J. L. Hayes.]
+
+   1866, Aug. 15. Venetian Life. N.Y., Hurd.
+
+   1867, Dec. 2. Italian Journeys. N.Y., Hurd.
+
+   1868, Dec. 1. No Love lost: a romance of travel. N.Y. (_Putnam's
+     Magazine_, Dec., 1868.)
+
+   1871, Jan. 2. Suburban Sketches. N.Y., Hurd.
+
+   1872, Jan. 1. Their Wedding Journey. Boston, Osgood. (_Atlantic
+     Monthly_, July-Dec., 1871.)
+
+   1873, May 10. A Chance Acquaintance. Boston, Osgood. (_Atlantic
+     Monthly_, Jan.-June, 1873.)
+
+     Sept. 27. Poems. Boston, Osgood.
+
+   1874, Dec. 5. A Foregone Conclusion. Boston, Osgood, 1875 [1874].
+     (_Atlantic Monthly_, July-Dec., 1874.)
+
+   1876, Feb. 12. A Day's Pleasure. Boston, Osgood. (_Atlantic
+     Monthly_, July-Sept., 1870.)
+
+     Sept. 16. Sketch of the Life and Character of Rutherford B. Hayes.
+     N.Y., Hurd.
+
+     Dec. 9. The Parlor Car: Farce. Boston, Osgood. (_Atlantic Monthly_,
+     Sept., 1876.)
+
+   1877, Apr. 28. Out of the Question: a Comedy. Boston, Osgood.
+     (_Atlantic Monthly_, Feb.-Apr., 1877.)
+
+     Oct. 13. A Counterfeit Presentment: Comedy. Boston, Osgood
+     (_Atlantic Monthly_, Aug.-Oct., 1877.)
+
+   1879, Mar. 1. The Lady of the Aroostook. Boston, Houghton.
+     (_Atlantic Monthly_, Nov., 1878-Mar., 1879.)
+
+   1880, June 26. The Undiscovered Country. Boston, Houghton.
+     (_Atlantic Monthly_, Jan.-July, 1880.)
+
+   1881, Aug. 6. A Fearful Responsibility, and other Stories. Boston,
+     Osgood.
+
+     Dec. 10. Doctor Breen's Practice: a Novel. Boston, Osgood.
+     (_Atlantic Monthly_, Aug.-Dec., 1881.)
+
+   1882, Oct. 14. A Modern Instance: a Novel. Boston, Osgood.
+     (_Century Magazine_, Dec., 1881-Oct., 1882.)
+
+   1883, Apr. 28. The Sleeping-Car: a Farce. Boston, Osgood.
+     (_Harper's Christmas_, Dec., 1882.)
+
+     Sept. 29. A Woman's Reason: a Novel. Boston, Osgood. (_Century_,
+     Feb.-Oct., 1883.)
+
+     Dec. 22. A Little Girl among the Old Masters, with Introduction and
+     Comment by W. D. Howells. Boston, Osgood, 1884 [1883].
+
+   1884, Mar. 22. The Register: Farce. Boston, Osgood. (_Harper's
+     Magazine_, Dec., 1884.)
+
+     May 24. Three Villages. Boston, Osgood. Niagara Revisited. Chicago,
+     Dalziel. (Suppressed.) (_Atlantic Monthly_, May, 1883.)
+
+   1885, Jan. 31. The Elevator: Farce. Boston, Osgood. (_Harper's
+     Magazine_, Dec., 1884.)
+
+     Aug. 22. The Rise of Silas Lapham. Boston, Ticknor. (_Century_,
+     Nov., 1884-Aug., 1885.)
+
+     Nov. 7. Tuscan Cities. Boston, Ticknor, 1886 [1885]. (_Century
+     Magazine_, Oct., 1885.)
+
+   1886, Jan. 2. The Garroters: Farce. N.Y., Harper. (_Harper's
+     Magazine_, Dec., 1885.)
+
+     Feb. 27. Indian Summer. Boston, Ticknor. (_Harper's Magazine_,
+     July, 1885-Feb., 1886.)
+
+     Dec. 18. The Minister's Charge; or, The Apprentice-ship of Lemuel
+     Barker. Boston, Ticknor, 1887 [1886]. (_Century Magazine_,
+     Feb.-Dec., 1886.)
+
+   1887, Oct. 8. Modern Italian Poets: Essays and Versions. N.Y.,
+     Harper.
+
+     Dec. 17. April Hopes. N.Y., Harper, 1888 [1887]. (_Harper's
+     Magazine_, Feb.-Nov., 1887.)
+
+   1888, Aug. 11. A Sea-Change; or, Love's Stowaway: a lyricated
+     Farce. Boston, Ticknor. (_Harper's Weekly_, July 14, 1888.)
+
+     Dec. 22. Annie Kilburn: a Novel. N.Y., Harper, 1889 [1888].
+     (_Harper's Magazine_, June-Nov., 1888.)
+
+   1889, Apr. 20. The Mouse-Trap, and other Farces. N.Y., Harper. (The
+     Mouse-Trap, _Harper's Magazine_, Dec., 1886.)
+
+     Dec. 7. A Hazard of New Fortunes: a Novel. N.Y., Harper, 1890
+     [1889]. (_Harper's Weekly_, Mar. 23-Nov. 16, 1889.)
+
+   1890, June 7. The Shadow of a Dream: a Story. NY., Harper.
+     (_Harper's Magazine_, Mar.-May, 1890.)
+
+     Oct. 18. A Boy's Town, described for _Harper's Young People_. N.Y.,
+     Harper. (_Harper's Young People_, Apr. 8-Aug. 26, 1890.)
+
+   1891, May 16. Criticism and Fiction. N.Y., Harper. [Selections from
+     the "Editor's Study" of _Harper's Magazine_.]
+
+     Oct. 17. The Albany Depot. N.Y., Harper, 1892 [1891]. (_Harper's
+     Weekly_, Dec. 14, 1889.)
+
+     Dec. 5. An Imperative Duty: a Novel. N.Y., Harper, 1892 [1891].
+     (_Harper's Magazine_, July-Oct., 1891.)
+
+   1892, Apr. 9. The Quality of Mercy: a Novel. N.Y., Harper. (_New
+     York_ (_Sunday_) _Sun._)
+
+     Aug. 6. A Letter of Introduction: Farce. N.Y., Harper. (_Harper's
+     Magazine_, Jan., 1892.)
+
+     Oct. 8. A Little Swiss Sojourn. N.Y., Harper. (_Harper's Magazine_,
+     Feb.-Mar., 1888.)
+
+     Dec. 17. Christmas Every Day, and other Stories told for Children.
+     N.Y., Harper, 1893 [1892].
+
+   1893, Apr. 1. The World of Chance: a Novel. N.Y., Harper.
+     (_Harper's Magazine_, Mar.-Nov., 1892.)
+
+     May 20. The Unexpected Guests: a Farce. N.Y., Harper. (_Harper's
+     Magazine_, Jan., 1893.)
+
+     Oct. 14. My Year in a Log Cabin. N.Y., Harper. (_Youth's
+     Companion_.)
+
+     Nov. 4. Evening Dress: Farce. N.Y., Harper. (_Cosmopolitan
+     Magazine_, May, 1892.)
+
+     Nov. 11. The Coast of Bohemia: a Novel. N.Y., Harper. (_Ladies'
+     Home Journal_, Dec., 1892-Oct., 1893.)
+
+   1894, June 2. A Traveler from Altruria: Romance. N.Y., Harper.
+     (_Cosmopolitan_, Nov., 1892-Oct., 1893.)
+
+   1895, June 22. My Literary Passions. N.Y., Harper. (_Ladies' Home
+     Journal_, Dec., 1892-Oct., 1893.)
+
+     Nov. 2. Stops of Various Quills. N.Y., Harper. (Eleven of the poems
+     appeared in _Harper's Magazine_, Dec., 1894.)
+
+   1896, Feb. 22. The Day of their Wedding: a Novel. N.Y., Harper.
+     (_Harper's Bazaar_, Oct. 5-Nov. 16, 1895.)
+
+     Apr. 11. A Parting and a Meeting: Story. N.Y., Harper.
+     (_Cosmopolitan Magazine_, Dec., 1894.)
+
+     Oct. 31. Impressions and Experiences. N.Y., Harper.
+
+   1897, Feb. 20. A Previous Engagement: Comedy. N.Y., Harper.
+     (_Harper's Magazine_, Dec., 1895.)
+
+     Apr. 17. The Landlord at Lion's Head: a Novel. N.Y., Harper.
+     (_Harper's Weekly_, July 4-Dec. 5, 1896.)
+
+     Sept. 11. An Open-Eyed Conspiracy: an Idyl of Saratoga. N.Y.,
+     Harper. (_Century Magazine_, July-Oct., 1896.)
+
+     Dec. 25. Stories of Ohio. N.Y., American Book Co.
+
+   1898, June 25. The Story of a Play: a Novel. N.Y., Harper.
+     (_Scribner's Magazine_, Mar.-July, 1897.)
+
+   1899, Feb. 25. Ragged Lady: a Novel. N.Y., Harper.
+
+     Dec. 16. Their Silver Wedding Journey. 2 vols. N.Y., Harper.
+     (_Harper's Magazine_, Jan.-Dec., 1899.)
+
+   1900, June 2. Bride Roses: a Scene. Boston, Houghton. June 2. Room
+     Forty-five: a Farce. Boston, Houghton.
+
+     Oct. 6. The Smoking Car: a Farce. Boston, Houghton.
+
+     Oct. 6. An Indian Giver: a Comedy. Boston, Houghton. (_Harper's
+     Magazine_, Jan., 1897.)
+
+     Dec. 1. Literary Friends and Acquaintance: a Personal Retrospect of
+     American Authorship. N.Y., Harper.
+
+   1901, June 1. A Pair of Patient Lovers. N.Y., Harper. (_Harper's
+     Magazine_, Nov., 1897.)
+
+     Nov. 2. Heroines of Fiction. 2 vols. N.Y., Harper. (_Harper's
+     Bazaar_, May 5, 1900-Oct., 1901.)
+
+   1902, Apr. 26. The Kentons: a Novel. N.Y., Harper.
+
+     Oct. 4. The Flight of Pony Baker: a Boy's Town Story. N.Y., Harper.
+
+     Oct. 25. Literature and Life: Studies. N.Y., Harper.
+
+   1903, June 6. Questionable Shapes. N.Y., Harper.
+
+     Oct. 3. Letters Home. N.Y., Harper.
+
+   1904, Oct. 15. The Son of Royal Langbrith: a Novel. N.Y., Harper.
+     (_North American Review_, Jan.-Aug., 1904.)
+
+   1905, June 17. Miss Bellard's Inspiration: a Novel. N.Y., Harper.
+
+     Oct. 21. London Films. N.Y., Harper. (_Harper's Magazine_, Dec.,
+     1904-Mar., 1905.)
+
+   1906, Nov. 3. Certain delightful English Towns, with Glimpses of
+     the pleasant country between. N.Y., Harper.
+
+   1907, Apr. 27. Through the Eye of the Needle: a Romance. N.Y.,
+     Harper.
+
+     June 1. Mulberries in Pay's Garden. Cincinnati, Clarke.
+
+     Nov. 9. Between the Dark and the Daylight: Romances. N.Y., Harper.
+
+   1908, Mar. 21. Fennel and Rue: a Novel. N.Y., Harper.
+
+     Dec. 12. Roman Holidays, and others. N.Y., Harper.
+
+   1909, June 12. The Mother and the Father: Dramatic Passages. N.Y.,
+     Harper. (The Mother, in _Harper's Magazine_, Dec., 1902.)
+
+     Nov. 6. Seven English Cities. N.Y., Harper.
+
+
+RUDYARD KIPLING
+
+30 December 1865-
+
+   1881. Schoolboy Lyrics. Lahore. (Printed for Private Circulation
+     only.)
+
+   1884. Echoes. By Two Writers. Lahore.
+
+   1885. Quartette. The Christmas Annual of the Civil and Military
+     Gazette. By four Anglo-Indian Writers. Lahore.
+
+   1886. Departmental Ditties. Lahore.
+
+   1888. Plain Tales from the Hills. Calcutta, Thacker. Soldiers
+     Three: a Collection of Stories. Allahabad, Wheeler. The Story of
+     the Gadsbys: a Tale without a Plot. Allahabad, Wheeler. In Black
+     and White. Allahabad, Wheeler. Under the Deodars. Allahabad,
+     Wheeler. The Phantom 'Rickshaw, and other Tales. Allahabad,
+     Wheeler. Wee Willie Winkie, and other Child Stories. Allahabad,
+     Wheeler.
+
+   1890, Sept. 6. The Courting of Dinah Shadd, and other Stories.
+     N.Y., Harper. The City of Dreadful Night, and other Sketches.
+     Allahabad, Wheeler.
+
+   1891. The Smith Administration. Allahabad, Wheeler. Letters of
+     Marque. Allahabad, Wheeler.
+
+     Feb. 28. The Light that Failed. London, Macmillan. (_Lippincott's
+     Magazine_, Jan., 1891.)
+
+     Aug. 15. Life's Handicap: being stories of mine own people. London,
+     Macmillan.
+
+   1892, May 21. Barrack-Room Ballads, and other Verses. London,
+     Methuen.
+
+     July 9. The Naulahka: a Story of West and East. By Rudyard Kipling
+     and Wolcott Balestier. London, Heinemann. (_Century Magazine_,
+     Nov., 1891-July, 1892.)
+
+   1893, June 17. Many Inventions. London, Macmillan.
+
+   1894, June 2. The Jungle Book. London, Macmillan.
+
+   1895. Good Hunting. Pp. 16. London, _Pall Mall Gazette_ office.
+
+     Oct. 26. Out of India: Things I saw, and failed to see, on certain
+     Days and Nights at Jeypore and elsewhere. N.Y., Dillingham.
+
+     Nov. 16. The Second Jungle Book. London, Macmillan.
+
+   1896, Nov. 7. Soldier Tales. London, Macmillan.
+
+     Nov. 14. The Seven Seas. London, Methuen.
+
+   1897, Oct. 23. Captains Courageous: a Story of the Grand Banks.
+     London, Macmillan.
+
+     Dec. 4. An Almanac of Twelve Sports for 1898. By William Nicholson.
+     With accompanying Rhymes by Rudyard Kipling. London, Heinemann.
+     White Horses. Pp. 10. London, printed for Private Circulation.
+
+   1898, May. The Destroyers: a new Poem. Pp. 6. London, Ward.
+
+     Sept. 10. Collectanea: being certain reprinted Verses. Pp. 32.
+     N.Y., Mansfield.
+
+     Oct. 15. The Day's Work. London, Macmillan.
+
+     Dec. 17. A Fleet in Being: Notes of two Trips with the Channel
+     Squadron. London, Macmillan.
+
+   1899, July 1. From Sea to Sea: Letters of Travel. 2 vols. N.Y.,
+     Doubleday. (London, Macmillan, Feb. 24, 1900.)
+
+     Oct. 6. Stalky and Co. London, Macmillan.
+
+   1901, Oct. 19. Kim. London, Macmillan.
+
+   1902, Oct. 11. Just So Stories for Little Children. London,
+     Macmillan.
+
+   1903, Oct. 10. The Five Nations. London, Methuen.
+
+   1904, Oct. 15. Traffics and Discoveries. London, Macmillan.
+
+   1909, Oct. 16. Actions and Reactions. N.Y., Doubleday.
+
+     Oct. 16. Abaft the Funnel. N.Y., Dodge. Cuckoo Song. Pp. 3. N.Y.,
+     Doubleday.
+
+
+ALFRED OLLIVANT
+
+1874-
+
+   1898, Oct. 8. Owd Bob, the Grey Dog of Kenmuir. London, Methuen.
+     (N.Y., Doubleday, Oct. 29, under title "Bob, Son of Battle.")
+
+   1902, Nov. 15. Danny. N.Y., Doubleday. (London, Murray, Feb. 28,
+     1903, under title "Danny: Story of a Dandie Dinmont.")
+
+   1907, Oct. 5. Redcoat Captain: A Story of That Country. N.Y.,
+     Macmillan. (London, Murray, Oct. 19.)
+
+   1908, Oct. 17. The Gentleman: A Romance of the Sea. N.Y.,
+     Macmillan. (London, Murray, Oct. 24.)
+
+
+HENRYK SIENKIEWICZ
+
+4 May 1846-
+
+[Including only works that have been translated into English.]
+
+   1884, Nov. Ogniem i Mieczem. 4 vols. Warsaw.--With Fire and Sword.
+     Tr. by Jeremiah Curtin. Boston, Little, Brown & Co., May 17,
+     1890.--With Fire and Sword. Tr. by Samuel A. Binion. Phila., Altemus.
+
+   1886. Potop. 6 vols. Warsaw--The Deluge. Tr. by J. Curtin. 2 vols.
+     Boston, Little, Dec. 19, 1891.
+
+   1887-1888. Pan Wolodyjowski. 3 vols. Warsaw.--Pan Michael. Tr. by
+     J. Curtin. Boston, Little, Dec. 2, 1893.--Pan Michael. Tr. by S.
+     A. Binion Phila., Altemus [1898].
+
+   1891, Feb. Bez Dogmatu. 3 vols. Warsaw.--Without Dogma. Tr. by Iza
+     Young. Boston, Little, Apr. 15, 1893.
+
+   1895, Apr. Rodzina Polanieckich. 3 vols. Warsaw.--Children of the
+     Soil. Tr. by J. Curtin. Boston, Little, June I, 1895.--The Irony
+     of Life: the Polanetzki Family. Tr. by Nathan M. Babad. N.Y.,
+     Fenno, Apr. 28, 1900.
+
+   1896, Dec. Quo Vadis. 3 vols. Warsaw.--Quo Vadis. Tr. by J.
+     Curtin. Boston, Little, Oct. 17, 1896.--Quo Vadis. Tr. by S. A.
+     Binion and S. Malevsky. Phila., Altemus, Dec. 18, 1897.--Quo
+     Vadis. Tr. by Wm. E. Smith. N. Y., Ogilvie, 1898.
+
+   1900, Nov. Krzyzacy. 4 vols. Warsaw.--Knights of the Cross [Part 1
+     only]. Tr. by S. C. de Soissons. N.Y., Fenno, 1897.--Knights of
+     the Cross. Tr. by J. Curtin. 2 vols. Boston, Little, 1900. (Vol. 1,
+     Jan. 13; Vol. 2, June 9.)--Knights of the Cross. Tr. by S. A.
+     Binion. 3 vols. N.Y., Fenno, 1900. (Vols. 1-2, Jan. 20; Vol. 3,
+     Dec. 15.)--Knights of the Cross. A special translation. 2 vols.
+     N.Y., Street, 1900. (Vol. 1, Apr. 21; Vol. 2, Oct. 6.)--Knights of
+     the Cross. Tr. by B. Dahl. N.Y., Ogilvie, Dec. 22, 1900.
+     [Abridged.] Warsaw.
+
+   1906, July. Na Polu Chwaly. Warsaw.--On the Field of Glory. Tr. by
+     J. Curtin. Boston, Little, Feb. 3, 1906.--The Field of Glory. Tr.
+     by Henry Britoff. N.Y., Ogilvie, Apr. 14, 1906.--Field of Glory.
+     London, Lane, July 21, 1906.
+
+In addition to the novels listed above, his tales and stories (_Pisma_)
+have been collected and published in 41 vols. (Warsaw, 1880-1902.) The
+following English translations have been published:--
+
+     Yanko the Musician, and other Stories. Tr. by J. Curtin. Boston,
+     Little, Oct. 21, 1893. (_Contents_: Yanko the Musician. The
+     Light-house Keeper of Aspinwall. From the Diary of a Tutor in
+     Poznan. Comedy of Errors: a Sketch of American Life. Bartek the
+     Victor.)
+
+     Lillian Morris, and other Stories. Tr. by J. Curtin. Boston,
+     Little, Oct. 27, 1894. (_Contents_: Lillian Morris. Sachem. Yamyol.
+     The Bull-Fight.)
+
+     Let us follow Him, and other Stories. Tr. by Vatslaf A. Hlasko and
+     Thos. H. Bullick. N.Y., Fenno [copyrighted, 1897]. (_Contents_: Let
+     us follow Him. Sielanka. Be Blessed. Light in Darkness. Orso.
+     Memories of Mariposa.)
+
+     Hania. Tr. by J. Curtin. Boston, Little, Dec. 11, 1897.
+     (_Contents_: Prologue to Hania: The Old Servant. Hania. Tartar
+     Captivity. Let us follow Him. Be thou Blessed. At the Source.
+     Charcoal Sketches. The Organist of Ponikla. Lux in Tenebris Lucet.
+     On the Bright Shore. That Third Woman.)
+
+     So runs the World. Tr. by S. C. de Soissons. London and N.Y.,
+     Neely, Mar. 19, 1898. (_Contents_: Henryk Sienkiewicz. Zola. Whose
+     Fault? The Verdict. Win or Lose.)
+
+     Sielanka, and other stories. From the Polish by J. Curtin. Boston,
+     Little, Oct. 29, 1898. (_Contents_: Sielanka: a Forest Picture. For
+     Bread. Orso. Whose Fault? The Decision of Zeus. On a Single Card.
+     Yanko the Musician. Bartek the Victor. Across the Plains. From the
+     Diary of a Tutor in Poznan. The Light-house Keeper of Aspinwall.
+     Yamyol. The Bull-Fight. Sachem. A Comedy of Errors. A Journey to
+     Athens. Zola.)
+
+     Let us Follow Him, and other Stories. Tr. by S. C. Slupski and I.
+     Young. Phila., Altemus [copyrighted, Oct. 24, 1898]. (_Contents_:
+     Let us follow Him. Be Blessed. Bartek the Conqueror.)
+
+     For Daily Bread, and other Stories. Tr. by Iza Young. Phila.,
+     Altemus [1898]. (_Contents_: For Daily Bread. An Artist's End. A
+     Comedy of Errors.)
+
+     Tales from Sienkiewicz. Tr. by S. C. de Soissons. London, Allen,
+     Dec. 23, 1899. (_Contents_: A Country Artist. In Bohemia. A Circus
+     Hercules. The Decision of Zeus. Anthea. Be Blessed! Whose Fault?
+     True to his Art. The Duel.)
+
+     Life and Death, and other Legends and Stories. Tr. by J. Curtin.
+     Boston, Little, Apr. 16, 1904. (_Contents_: Life and Death: a Hindu
+     Legend. Is He the Dearest One? A Legend of the Sea. The Cranes. The
+     Judgment of Peter and Paul on Olympus.)
+
+The following stories have been published separately in English:--
+
+     Let us follow Him. Tr. by J. Curtin. Boston, Little, Dec. 11, 1897.
+
+     After Bread. Tr. by Vatslaf A. Hlasko and Thos. H. Bullick. N.Y.,
+     Fenno, June 18, 1898.--Peasants in Exile (For Daily Bread). From
+     the Polish by C. O'Conor-Eccles. Notre Dame, Ind., The Ave Maria
+     [1898].
+
+     In the New Promised Land. Tr. by S. C. de Soissons. London,
+     Jarrold, 1900.
+
+     On the Sunny Shore. Tr. by S. C. de Soissons. N.Y., Fenno.
+     [1897].--On the Bright Shore. From the Polish by J. Curtin. Boston,
+     Little, June 18, 1898.--On the Bright Shore. To which is added,
+     That Third Woman. From the Polish by J. Curtin. Boston, Little,
+     1898.
+
+     In Vain. Tr. by J. Curtin. Boston, Little, June 17, 1899.
+
+     The Third Woman. Tr. by Nathan M. Babad. N.Y., Ogilvie, Apr. 23,
+     1898.
+
+     The Fate of a Soldier. Tr. by J. C. Bay. N.Y., Ogilvie
+     [copyrighted, Sept. 3, 1898].--The New Soldier. N.Y., Hurst.
+
+     Hania. Tr. by Vatslaf A. Hlasco and Thos. H. Bullick. N.Y., Fenno.
+
+     In Monte Carlo. Tr. by S. C. de Soissons. London, Greening, Sept.
+     16, 1899.
+
+     The Judgment of Peter and Paul on Olympus. To which is added: Be
+     thou Blessed. Tr. by J. Curtin. Boston, Little, Nov. 3, 1900.
+
+     Dust and Ashes. N.Y., Hurst.
+
+     Her Tragic Fate. N.Y., Hurst.
+
+     Where Worlds Meet. N.Y., Hurst.
+
+
+ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON
+
+13 November 1850-3 December 1894
+
+   1866. The Pentland Rising: a Page of History, 1666. Pp. 22.
+     Edinburgh, Elliot.
+
+   1868. The Charity Bazaar: an allegorical Dialogue. Pp. 4. 4o.
+     Edinburgh. (Privately Printed.)
+
+   1871. Notice of a New Form of Intermittent Light for Lighthouses.
+     (From the Transactions of the Royal Scottish Society of Arts, Vol.
+     8, 1870-1871.) Edinburgh, Neill.
+
+   1873. The Thermal Influence of Forests. (From the Proceedings of
+     the Royal Society of Edinburgh.) Edinburgh, Neill.
+
+   1875. An Appeal to the Clergy of the Church of Scotland. Edinburgh,
+     Blackwood.
+
+   1878, May 16. An Inland Voyage. London, Kegan Paul.
+
+     Dec. 18. Edinburgh. Picturesque Notes. London, Seeley, 1879 [1878].
+     (_Portfolio._)
+
+   1879, June 17. Travels with a Donkey in the Cevennes. London, Kegan
+     Paul.
+
+   1880. Deacon Brodie; or, The Double Life: a Melodrama founded on
+     Facts. By W. E. Henley and R. L. Stevenson. (Privately Printed.)
+
+   1881, Apr. 16. Virginibus Puerisque, and other Papers. London,
+     Kegan Paul.
+
+     Not I, and other Poems. Pp. 8. Davos, Osbourne.
+
+   1882. Moral Emblems: a second collection of Cuts and Verses. Davos,
+     Osbourne. The Story of a Lie. Pp. 80. Haley and Jackson.
+     (Suppressed.)
+
+     Mar. 15. Familiar Studies of Men and Books. London, Chatto.
+
+     Aug. 1. New Arabian Nights. 2 vols. London, Chatto.
+
+   1883, Dec. 6. Treasure Island. London, Cassell. The Silverado
+     Squatters. London, Chatto. (_Century Magazine_, Nov.-Dec., 1883.)
+
+   1884. Admiral Guinea. By W. E. Henley and R. L. Stevenson.
+     Edinburgh, Clark. (Printed for Private Circulation.) Beau Austin.
+     By W. E. Henley and R. L. Stevenson. (Printed for Private
+     Circulation.)
+
+   1885, Apr. 1. A Child's Garden of Verses. London, Longmans.
+
+     May 15. More New Arabian Nights. The Dynamiter. By R. L. Stevenson
+     and Fanny Van de Grift Stevenson. London, Longmans.
+
+     Nov. 16. Prince Otto: a Romance. London, Chatto. (_Longman's
+     Magazine_, Apr.-Oct., 1885.) Macaire. By W. E. Henley and R. L.
+     Stevenson. (Printed for Private Circulation.)
+
+   1886, Jan. 15. The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. London,
+     Longmans.
+
+     Aug. 2. Kidnapped: being Memoirs of the Adventures of David Balfour
+     in the year 1751. London, Cassell.
+
+     Some College Memories. Edinburgh. (30 copies Privately Printed.)
+
+   1887, Feb. 15. The Merry Men, and other Tales and Fables. London,
+     Chatto.
+
+     Sept. 1. Underwoods. London, Chatto.
+
+     Dec. 6. Memories and Portraits. London, Chatto. Ticonderoga.
+     Edinburgh, Clark. (50 copies printed for the author.) Thomas
+     Stevenson, Civil Engineer. (For Private Distribution.)
+
+   1888, Jan. 16. Memoir of Fleeming Jenkin. (Prefixed to Papers of
+     Fleeming Jenkin.) London, Longmans.
+
+     Aug. 15. The Black Arrow: a Tale of the Two Roses. London, Cassell.
+     (_Young Folks._)
+
+   1889, July 1. The Wrong Box. By R. L. Stevenson and Lloyd Osbourne.
+     London, Longmans.
+
+     Sept. 16. The Master of Ballantrae: a Winter's Tale. London,
+     Cassell. (_Scribner's Magazine_, Nov., 1888-Oct., 1889.)
+
+   1890, Mar. Father Damien: an open Letter to the Reverend Dr. Hyde
+     of Honolulu. Pp. 32. Sydney. (Privately Printed Edition of 25
+     copies.) The South Seas. (Privately Printed.) Ballads. London,
+     Chatto. (Large paper; 190 copies.)
+
+   1892, April 16. Across the Plains; with other Memories and Essays.
+     London, Chatto.
+
+     July 9. The Wrecker. By R. L. Stevenson and Lloyd Osbourne. London,
+     Cassell. (_Scribner's Magazine_, Aug., 1891-July, 1892.)
+
+     Aug. 20. The Beach of Falesa, and The Bottle Imp. London, Cassell.
+
+     Aug. 27. A Footnote to History: Eight Years of Trouble in Samoa.
+     London, Cassell.
+
+     Dec. 17. Three Plays. Deacon Brodie. Beau Austin. Admiral Guinea.
+     By W. E. Henley and R. L. Stevenson. London, Nutt. An Object of
+     Pity, or the Man Haggard. Imprinted at Amsterdam. [1892.] (For
+     Private Distribution.)
+
+   1893, Apr. 15. Island Nights' Entertainments. London, Cassell.
+
+     Sept. 9. Catriona: a Sequel to "Kidnapped." London, Cassell.
+
+     Sept. War in Samoa. Reprinted from the _Pall Mall Gazette_.
+
+   1894, Sept. 22. The Ebb-Tide: a Trio and a Quartette. By R. L.
+     Stevenson and Lloyd Osbourne. London, Heinemann. (_McClure's
+     Magazine_, Feb.-July, 1894.)
+
+     Nov. 10. The Suicide Club and The Rajah's Diamond. London, Chatto.
+
+   1895, Mar. 2. The Amateur Emigrant from the Clyde to Sandy Hook.
+     Chicago, Stone & Kimball.
+
+     Nov. 9. Vailima Letters. Being Correspondence addressed by R. L.
+     Stevenson to Sidney Colvin, Nov., 1890-Oct., 1894. London, Methuen.
+
+   1896, May 23. Weir of Hermiston: an unfinished Romance. London,
+     Chatto.
+
+     Sept. 5. Songs of Travel, and other Verses. London, Chatto.
+     Familiar Epistles in Verse and Prose. Pp. 18. (Printed for Private
+     Distribution.)
+
+     A Mountain Town in France: a Fragment. Pp. 20. London, Lane.
+
+   1897, Oct. 9. St. Ives: being the Adventures of a French Prisoner
+     in England. London, Heinemann, 1898 [1897].
+
+   1898, Feb. 26. Macaire: a melodramatic Farce. By W. E. Henley and
+     R. L. Stevenson. London, Heinemann.
+
+     Apr. 16. A Lowden Sabbath Morn. London, Chatto. AEs Triplex. Printed
+     for the American Subscribers to the Stevenson Memorial.
+
+   1899, Nov. 18. Letters to his Family and Friends, selected and
+     edited by Sidney Colvin. 2 vols. London, Methuen.
+
+   1900, Dec. 22. In the South Seas: Account of Experiences and
+     Observations in the Marquesas, Paumotus, and Gilbert Islands during
+     two cruises on the Yacht "Casco," 1888, and the Schooner "Equator,"
+     1889. London, Chatto.
+
+
+HERMANN SUDERMANN
+
+30 September 1857-
+
+   1886, Im Zwielicht: Zwanglose Geschichten. Berlin.
+
+   1887, Feb. 10. Frau Sorge: Roman. Berlin.--Dame Care. Tr. by
+     Bertha Overbeck. London, Osgood, 1891; N.Y., Harper, 1891.
+
+   1888, Jan. 19. Geschwister: Zwei Novellen. Berlin.--The Wish: a
+     Novel. Tr. by Lily Henkel. London, Unwin, Nov. 3, 1894.
+
+   1890, Jan. 9. Der Katzensteg: Roman. Berlin.--Regine. From the
+     German by H. E. Miller. Chicago, Weeks, 1894.--Regina; or, The
+     Sins of the Fathers. Tr. by Beatrice Marshall. London and N.Y.,
+     Lane, 1898. Die Ehre: Schauspiel. Berlin.
+
+   1891, Mar. 26. Sodoms Ende: Drama. Berlin.
+
+   1892, June 2. Iolanthes Hochzeit: Erzaehlung. Stuttgart.
+
+   1893, Mar. 23. Heimat: Schauspiel. Stuttgart.--Magda. Tr. by C. E.
+     A. Winslow. Boston, Lamson, 1896.
+
+   1894, Dec. 6. Es war: Roman. Stuttgart.--The Undying Past. Tr. by
+     Beatrice Marshall. London, N.Y., Lane, 1906.
+
+   1895, June 27. Die Schmetterlingschlacht: Komoedie. Stuttgart.
+
+   1896, Apr. 30. Das Glueck im Winkel: Schauspiel. Stuttgart.
+
+     Dec. 3. Morituri: Teja, Fritzchen, Das Ewigmaennliche.
+     Stuttgart.--Teias. Tr. by Mary Harned. (_Poet-Lore_, July-Sept.,
+     1897.)
+
+   1898, Jan. 27. Johannes: Tragoedie. Stuttgart.--Johannes. Tr. by W.
+     H. Harned and Mary Harned. (_Poet-Lore_, Apr.-June, 1899.)--John
+     the Baptist. Tr. by Beatrice Marshall. London, N. Y., Lane, 1909
+     [1908].
+
+   1899, Feb. 9. Die drei Reiherfedern: ein dramatisches Gedicht.
+     Stuttgart.--Three Heron's Feathers. Tr. by H. T. Porter.
+     (_Poet-Lore_, Apr.-June, 1900.)
+
+   1900, May 23. Drei Reden. Pp. 47. Stuttgart.
+
+     Oct. 25. Johannisfeuer: Schauspiel. Stuttgart.--Fires of St. John.
+     Tr. by Charlotte
+
+     Porter and H. C. Porter. (_Poet-Lore_, Jan.-Mar., 1904.)--Fires of
+     St. John. Tr. and adapted by Charles Swickard. Boston, Luce, Nov.
+     19, 1904.--St. John's Fire. Tr. by Grace E. Polk. Minneapolis,
+     Wilson, June 17, 1905.
+
+   1902, Feb. 27. Es lebe das Leben: Drama. Stuttgart.--The Joy of
+     Living. Tr. by Edith Wharton. N.Y., Scribner, Nov. 8, 1902.
+
+     Dec. 25. Verrohung in der Theaterkritik: Zeitgemaesse Betrachtungen.
+     Stuttgart.
+
+   1903, Oct. 22. Der Sturmgeselle Sokrates: Komoedie. Stuttgart.
+
+     Nov. 12. Die Sturmgesellen: Ein Wort zur Abwehr. Pp. 27. Berlin.
+
+   1905, Oct. 19. Stein unter Steinen: Schauspiel. Stuttgart.
+
+     Nov. 16. Das Blumenboot: Schauspiel. Stuttgart.
+
+   1907, Oct. 24. Rosen: Vier Einakter. Stuttgart.--Roses. Tr. by
+     Grace Frank. N.Y., Scribner, Oct. 9, 1909.
+
+   1908, Dec. 3. Das hohe Lied: Roman. Stuttgart.--The Song of Songs.
+     Tr. by Thomas Seltzer. N.Y., Huebsch, Dec., 1909.
+
+
+MRS. HUMPHRY WARD
+
+(Mary Augusta Arnold)
+
+11 June 1851-
+
+   1881, Dec. 17. Milly and Olly; or, A Holiday among the Mountains.
+     London, Macmillan.
+
+   1884, Dec. 15. Miss Bretherton. London, Macmillan.
+
+   1885, Dec. 31. Amiel's Journal Intime, translated by Mrs. Humphry
+     Ward. 2 vols. London, Macmillan.
+
+   1888, Mar. 1. Robert Elsmere. 3 vols. London, Smith, Elder.
+
+   1891, Mar. 14. University Hall: Opening Address. Pp. 45. London,
+     Smith, Elder.
+
+   1892, Jan. 23. The History of David Grieve. 3 vols. London, Smith,
+     Elder.
+
+   1894, Apr. 7. Marcella. 3 vols. London, Smith, Elder.
+
+     Aug. 4. Unitarians and the Future: the Essex Hall Lecture, 1894.
+     Pp. 72. London, Green.
+
+   1895, July 6. The Story of Bessie Costrell. London, Smith, Elder.
+     (_Cornhill Magazine_, May-July, 1895; _Scribner's Magazine_,
+     May-July, 1895.)
+
+   1896, Oct. 3. Sir George Tressady. London, Smith, Elder. (_Century
+     Magazine_, Nov., 1895-Oct. 1896.)
+
+   1898, June 11. Helbeck of Bannisdale. London, Smith, Elder.
+
+   1900, Nov. 10. Eleanor. London, Smith, Elder. (_Harper's Magazine_,
+     Jan.-Dec., 1900.)
+
+   1903, Mar. 21. Lady Rose's Daughter. London, Smith, Elder.
+     (_Harper's Magazine_, May, 1902-Apr., 1903.)
+
+   1905, Mar. 18. The Marriage of William Ashe. London, Smith, Elder.
+     (_Harper's Magazine_, June, 1904-May, 1905.)
+
+   1906, Mar. 3. Play-Time of the Poor. Reprinted from the _Times_.
+     London, Smith, Elder.
+
+     May 12. Fenwick's Career. London, Smith, Elder.
+
+   1907, Apr. 27. William Thomas Arnold, Journalist and Historian, by
+     Mrs. Humphry Ward and C. E. Montague. Manchester, Sherratt.
+     (Originally published on Feb. 23 as preface to W. T. Arnold's
+     Fragmentary Studies on Roman Imperialism.)
+
+   1908, Sept. 19. Diana Mallory. London, Smith, Elder. (The Testing
+     of Diana Mallory, _Harper's Magazine_, Nov., 1907-Oct., 1908.)
+
+   1909, May 29. Daphne; or, Marriage a la Mode. London, Cassell.
+     (N.Y., Doubleday, June 5, under title "Marriage a la Mode.")
+     (_McClure's Magazine_, Jan.-June, 1909.)
+
+
+
+
+WILLIAM ALLEN WHITE'S
+
+     A Certain Rich Man
+
+     _Cloth, 12mo, $1.50_
+
+     Dr. Washington Gladden considered this book of sufficient
+     importance to take it and the text from which the title was drawn
+     as his subject for an entire sermon, in the course of which he
+     said: "In its ethical and social significance it is the most
+     important piece of fiction that has lately appeared in America. I
+     do not think that a more trenchant word has been spoken to this
+     nation since 'Uncle Tom's Cabin.' And it is profoundly to be hoped
+     that this book may do for the prevailing Mammonism what 'Uncle
+     Tom's Cabin' did for slavery."
+
+     "Mr. White has written a big and satisfying book made up of the
+     elements of American life as we know them--the familiar humor,
+     sorrows, ambitions, crimes, sacrifices--revealed to us with
+     peculiar freshness and vigor in the multitude of human actions and
+     by the crowd of delightful people who fill his four hundred odd
+     pages.... It deserves a high place among the novels that deal with
+     American life. No recent American novel save one has sought to
+     cover so broad a canvas, or has created so strong an impression of
+     ambition and of sincerity."--_Chicago Evening Post._
+
+
+E. B. DEWING'S
+
+     Other People's Houses
+
+     _Cloth, 12mo, $1.50_
+
+     "'Other People's Houses' possesses that distinction of style in
+     which most of our current American fiction is so lamentably
+     deficient, and it has in addition the advantage of a theme which is
+     a grateful relief from the usual saccharine love story admittedly
+     designed to suit the caramel age.... Miss Dewing has a fine feeling
+     for comedy and gives evidence of both genuine talent and a fresh
+     and vivid outlook upon life."--_New York Times._
+
+     "It is a story rich in atmosphere, in allusion, and in vistas....
+     The story is full of action. The characters have virility and in
+     certain instances charm, and the course of the story awakens no
+     little concern on the part of the reader. An interesting, varied,
+     and amusing group of persons is presented, and, ... take it for all
+     in all, it is a work of taste, discrimination, and power.... Its
+     publishers may congratulate themselves on having come upon another
+     oasis in the present desert of American fiction."--_Chicago
+     Tribune._
+
+     "If an unknown author is to keep an entire novel to this level,
+     that author will be unknown no longer, but at a single bound has
+     reached the height, not only of good American novelists, but of any
+     novelist doing fiction in these days."--_Chicago Post._
+
+  PUBLISHED BY
+
+  THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
+
+  64-66 Fifth Avenue, New York
+
+
+AMONG RECENT NOVELS
+
+
+F. MARION CRAWFORD'S
+
+     Stradella
+
+     _Illustrated, cloth, 12mo, $1.50,_
+
+     "Schools of fiction have come and gone, but Mr. Crawford has always
+     remained in favor. There are two reasons for his continued
+     popularity; he always had a story to tell and he knew how to tell
+     it. He was a born story teller, and what is more rare, a trained
+     one."--_The Independent._
+
+     The White Sister
+
+     _Illustrated cloth, 12mo, $1.50_
+
+     "Mr. Crawford tells his love story with plenty of that dramatic
+     instinct which was ever one of his best gifts. We are, as always,
+     absorbed and amused."--_New York Tribune._
+
+     "Good stirring romance, simple and poignant."--_Chicago Record
+     Herald._
+
+     "His people are always vividly real, invariably
+     individual."--_Boston Transcript._
+
+
+ROBERT HERRICK'S
+
+     Together
+
+     _Cloth, 12mo, $1.50_
+
+     "An able book, remarkably so, and one which should find a place in
+     the library of any woman who is not a fool."--_Editorial in the New
+     York American._
+
+     A Life for a Life
+
+     _Cloth, 12mo, $1.50_
+
+     Mr. W. D. Howells says in the _North American Review_: "What I
+     should finally say of his work is that it is more broadly based
+     than that of any other American novelist of his generation.... Mr.
+     Herrick's fiction is a force for the higher civilization, which to
+     be widely felt, needs only to be widely known."
+
+
+JAMES LANE ALLEN'S
+
+     The Bride of the Mistletoe
+
+     _Cloth, 12mo, $1.25_
+
+     "He has achieved a work of art more complete in expression than
+     anything that has yet come from him. It is like a cry of the soul,
+     so intense one scarcely realizes whether it is put into words or
+     not."--_Bookman._
+
+
+WINSTON CHURCHILL'S
+
+     Mr. Crewe's Career
+
+     _Illustrated, cloth, 12mo, $1.50_
+
+     "Mr. Churchill rises to a level he has never known before and gives
+     us one of the best stories of American life ever written; ... it is
+     written out of a sympathy that goes deep.... We go on to the end
+     with growing appreciation.... It is good to have such a
+     book."--_New York Tribune._
+
+     "American realism, American romance, and American doctrine, all
+     overtraced by the kindliest, most appealing American humor."--_New
+     York World._
+
+
+ELLEN GLASGOW'S
+
+     The Romance of a Plain Man
+
+     _Cloth, 12mo, $1.50_
+
+     "To any one who has a genuine interest in American literature there
+     is no pleasanter thing than to see the work of some good American
+     writer strengthening and deepening year by year as has the work of
+     Miss Ellen Glasgow. From the first she has had the power to tell a
+     strong story, full of human interest, but as the years have passed
+     and her work has continued it has shown an increasing mellowness
+     and sympathy. This is particularly evident in 'The Romance of a
+     Plain Man.'"--_Chicago Daily Tribune._
+
+
+JACK LONDON'S
+
+     Martin Eden
+
+     _Cloth, 12mo, $1.50_
+
+     The stirring story of a man who rises by force of sheer ability and
+     perseverance from the humblest beginning to a position of fame and
+     influence. The elemental strength, the vigor and determination of
+     Martin Eden, make him the most interesting character that Mr.
+     London has ever created. The plan of the novel permits the author
+     to cover a wide sweep of society, the contrasting types of his
+     characters giving unfailing variety and interest to the story of
+     Eden's love and fight.
+
+
+ZONA GALE'S
+
+     Friendship Village
+
+     _Cloth, 12mo, $1.50_
+
+     "As charming as an April day, all showers and sunshine, and
+     sometimes both together, so that the delighted reader hardly knows
+     whether laughter or tears are fittest for his emotion.... The book
+     will stir the feelings deeply."--_New York Times._
+
+     To be followed by "Friendship Village Love Stories."
+
+
+CHARLES MAJOR'S
+
+     A Gentle Knight of Old Brandenburg
+
+     _Illustrated, cloth, 12mo, $1.50_
+
+     Mr. Major has selected a period to the romance of which other
+     historical novelists have been singularly blind. The boyhood of
+     Frederick the Great and the strange wooing of his charming sister
+     Wilhelmina have afforded a theme, rich in its revelation of human
+     nature and full of romantic situations.
+
+
+MABEL OSGOOD WRIGHT'S
+
+     Poppea of the Post Office
+
+     _Cloth, 12mo, $1.50_
+
+     "A rainbow romance, ... tender yet bracing, cheerily stimulating
+     ... its genial entirety refreshes like a cooling shower."--_Chicago
+     Record Herald._
+
+     "There cannot be too many of these books by 'Barbara.' Mrs. Wright
+     knows good American stock through and through and presents it with
+     effective simplicity."--_Boston Advertiser._
+
+
+FRANK DANBY'S
+
+     Sebastian
+
+     _Cloth, 12mo, $1.50_
+
+     Whenever a father's ideals conflict with a mother's hopes for the
+     son of their dreams, you meet the currents underlying the plot of
+     "Sebastian." Its author's skill in making vividly real the types
+     and conditions of London has never been shown to better advantage.
+
+
+EDEN PHILLPOTTS'
+
+     The Three Brothers
+
+     _Cloth, 12mo, $1.50_
+
+     "'The Three Brothers' seems to us the best yet of the long series
+     of these remarkable Dartmoor tales. If Shakespeare had written
+     novels we can think that some of his pages would have been like
+     some of these. Here certainly is language, turn of humor,
+     philosophical play, vigor of incident, such as might have come
+     straight from Elizabeth's day.... The book is full of a very moving
+     interest and is agreeable and beautiful."--_The New York Sun._
+
+PUBLISHED BY
+
+THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
+
+
+
+
+TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE:
+
+In the plain-text version of this ebook italics are indicated by
+_underscores_.
+
+For ease of navigation, footnotes in the plain-text version have been
+placed at the end of the paragraph in which the footnote tag appears.
+
+Obvious printer errors have been corrected without comment. Otherwise,
+the author's original spelling, punctuation, hyphenation and use of
+accents have been left intact with the following exceptions:
+
+     1. Page 153: The letter "s" was added to the word "heroine" in the
+     phrase: "... the stuff of which heroines are made...."
+
+     2. Page 276: The word "Bazar" was changed to "Bazaar" in the phrase
+     "Harper's Bazaar".
+
+     3. Page 293: A closing parenthesis was added in the phrase (N.Y.,
+     Doubleday, June 5, under title "Marriage a la Mode.")
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Essays on Modern Novelists, by William Lyon Phelps
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+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ESSAYS ON MODERN NOVELISTS ***
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