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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a5c61a3 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #60686 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/60686) diff --git a/old/60686-8.txt b/old/60686-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 9dde1c0..0000000 --- a/old/60686-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1579 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Archibald Marshall, a Realistic Novelist, by -William Lyon Phelps - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Archibald Marshall, a Realistic Novelist - -Author: William Lyon Phelps - -Release Date: November 14, 2019 [EBook #60686] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ARCHIBALD MARSHALL *** - - - - -Produced by Carlos Colon, the University of Toronto and -the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images -generously made available by The Internet Archive/Canadian -Libraries) - - - - - - - - - - -[Illustration: ARCHIBALD MARSHALL] - - - - - ARCHIBALD MARSHALL - - _A Realistic Novelist_ - - - BY - - WILLIAM LYON PHELPS - - Lampson Professor of English Literature at Yale - - - WITH FRONTISPIECE - - - [Illustration] - - - NEW YORK - DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY - 1919 - - - - - COPYRIGHT, 1918, BY - DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY, INC. - - - - - TO - THE DEPARTMENT OF ENGLISH - OF - THE UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO - - NOTABLE FOR SCHOLARS AND TEACHERS AND - TWO CREATIVE ARTISTS - - THE NOVELIST ROBERT HERRICK - THE POET WILLIAM VAUGHN MOODY - - - - -PREFACE - - -The original form of this book was a lecture on the William Vaughn -Moody foundation at the University of Chicago, delivered on the sixth -of February, 1918. A portion of it was subsequently printed in the -_North American Review_. It now appears considerably revised and -enlarged. - - W. L. P. - - _Yale University, - Tuesday, 21 May, 1918._ - - - - -ARCHIBALD MARSHALL - - -On a mellow day in the early autumn of the year 1900, I sat on an old -wooden bench in the open air with an English gentleman, and listened -to his conversation with a mixture of curiosity and reverence. The -place was one of the fairest counties of England, the town on the other -side of a screen of trees was Dorchester, and my seat-mate was Thomas -Hardy. I remember his saying without any additional emphasis than the -weight of the words, that the basis of every novel should be a story. -In considering this remark, which came, not from a doctrinaire, but -from a master of long and triumphant experience, I could not help -thinking that what seems axiomatic is often belied by a majority of -instances. Thus, we church-members would agree that religion must take -the first place in our lives; yet a disinterested observer, who should -begin at the other end of the proposition and examine our lives merely -to discover what actually did take the first place therein, might -conceivably miss the element of religion altogether. In the same way, -while it would theoretically seem that every novel must be a story, an -honest critic who should examine the total product of prose fiction for -any given year in the twentieth century, might, in a large number of -cases, easily fail to find any story at all. - -As we look back over the history of the English novel, it would appear -that every permanent work of fiction has been a great story. _Robinson -Crusoe_, _Clarissa_, _Tom Jones_, _Humphry Clinker_, _The Bride of -Lammermoor_, _Pride and Prejudice_, _Esmond_, _David Copperfield_, _The -Mill on the Floss_, _Richard Feverel_, _The Return of the Native_, -_Treasure Island_, _The Last of the Mohicans_, _The Scarlet Letter_, -_Huckleberry Finn_, although they represent various shades of realism -and romanticism, have all been primarily stories, in which we follow -the fortunes of the chief actors with steady interest. These books owe -their supremacy in fiction--at least, most of them do--to a combination -of narrative, character, and style; every one of them, if given in -colloquial paraphrase to a group of men around a camp-fire, would be -rewarded with attention. - -Sometimes the very thing that gives a drama or a novel immediate -currency makes it smell of mortality; by taking advantage of some -hotly-discussed social question, general interest is awakened; but when -the question is obsolete, what becomes of the work of art? I shall not -venture to make a prediction; but I think it is at least possible that -some of the earlier plays of Ibsen, like _The Pretenders_, may outlast -some of the later ones, like _Ghosts_; the later ones blaze with the -flames of public debate, the earlier reflect the light of the stars. - -Of all forms of literature, the novel has suffered most by its -desertion of art for propaganda. It has been debased by its popularity. -It lends itself so easily as a channel for political, social or -religious oratory. Every theorist uses it as a megaphone. Although -novels are as common as grasshoppers, good stories are scarce. Now -this desertion of art for propaganda is founded on the fallacy that -a work of pure fiction cannot stand or ought not to stand by itself, -but should lean on politics, social reform, science, or theology for -support. We do not insist on a thesis in sculpture or music or painting -or poetry. There have been, indeed, many attempts to turn Pegasus into -a cart-horse; and unfortunately the attempt is almost invariably -successful. - -I prefer novels that express the opinions of the characters in the -story to those that express the opinions of the author. I do not mean -that all novels ought to be impersonal; such a result, even when most -ardently desired by the novelist, is impossible of achievement. The -work of every true artist reflects his personality, and is, in a sense, -subjective. Even the coldest novels betray their makers' sympathies, -and the standpoint from which they regard the world. But there is a -difference between having ideas and arguing a case. Women who have -ideas are always more interesting than those who have only opinions. - -Why is it that so many novelists write their best books early in their -careers? Is it not sometimes because the original impelling artistic -impulse becomes dulled in contact with society, and thoughts take the -place of thought? The thorns of this world spring up and choke them. It -is by no accident that _The Mill on the Floss_ is a greater novel than -_Daniel Deronda_. - -The most enduring novels come from the silent depths in a writer's -soul, not from the turbulent shallows. To live deeply is easier in a -country where deep living has been done for centuries than in a country -whose human history is brief. If we should really feel chagrined -by America's native contribution to literature in comparison with -that of Europe, we might justifiably console ourselves by comparing -America with Australia. Surely one reason why the British today write -novels rather better than the Americans, is because their roots go -down deeper into the rich soil of the past. Men of genius are scarce -in any locality, and I am not at this moment thinking of them; but I -am constantly surprised at the large number of contemporary novels -produced in Great Britain whose literary style bears the unmistakable -stamp of distinction. There are leaders, whose names are known -everywhere; there are men and women who might conceivably be leaders if -they lived out of Europe. The best reason why many admirable twentieth -century works of prose fiction in England fail to attract general -attention is because the level of excellence is so high. - - - - -II - - -H. G. Wells is not the hero of this book. I am holding my roses for a -figure that has not yet appeared upon my little stage. But the career -of Mr. Wells, whose novels have almost every quality except charm, is -interesting to contemplate. That he is a born novelist was clear to me -so early as the year 1895, when one of his best stories appeared--_The -Wheels of Chance_. Not long after came the novels of science and -socialism that carried his name around the world; he was discussed -in the salons of Paris and in the prisons of Siberia. His books were -all busy, noisy, talkative, restless; they reflected in their almost -truculent mental aggressiveness the mass of undigested and indigestible -quasi-scientific fodder that perhaps disturbs more than it nourishes -the twentieth century stomach; they made many readers fondly believe -they were living the intellectual life. I mistakenly supposed he would -keep up this squirrel-cage activity to the end of his days; for I -mistakenly supposed in all this clatter he was incapable of hearing the -voice of the spirit. I used to think that if all the world suddenly -became religious except one man, that man would be H. G. Wells. - -The war, which diverted the energies of so many quiet thinkers to -matters of immediate and practical efficiency, produced a rather -different effect upon this interesting man. He began to regard things -that are temporal in relation to those of eternal import. He became -converted--I have no hesitation in using the good old word--and while -I can see no evidence of conviction of sin, for humility is not his -most salient characteristic, he did come to believe and believes now, -that religion ought to be the motive power of man. What direction -his ideas may take in the future I cannot divine; but I am thankful -for his conversion, if only for the reason that it inspired him to -produce a masterpiece, _Mr. Britling Sees It Through_. This novel is -not only far and away his best book, it is the ablest work of fiction -about the war that I have read. But it owes its eminence not to its -accurate reporting of the course of social history during the war, for -after all, the much admired hockey-game is not much higher than major -journalism, but rather to the profound sense of spiritual values which -is the core of the book. - -I regard it as unfortunate that Mr. Wells felt it necessary to follow -up the triumph of this tale with a treatise on theology called _God -the Invisible King_, and with a propagandist novel, called _The Soul -of a Bishop_. For the last-named book illustrates all the faults of -its species, as well as the cardinal sin against art. _Mr. Britling -Sees It Through_ is religious; _The Soul of a Bishop_ is sectarian. And -_God the Invisible King_, while it should be read with sympathy for its -author's sincerity and newly-found idealism, has all the arrogance and -cock-sureness of an old-fashioned theologian without the preliminary -years of devoted learning that gave the old-fashioned one some right -to a hearing, provided of course he could induce any one to listen to -him. No orthodox evangelist has ever been more sure of God than Mr. -Wells. The novel was properly named _Mr. Britling Sees It Through_; and -we might with equal propriety name the treatise, _Mr. Britling Sees -Through It_. - -Strange and unfortunate that Mr. Wells should think that the religious -element in Mr. Britling needed additional emphasis. A work of art -founded on eternal verities will accomplish more for the cause -of religion than any tract. Solely from the moral point of view, -_Anna Karenina_ is a more impressive book than most of its author's -subsequent exhortations. - -_The Soul of a Bishop_ is not a realistic novel, for there is no -real character in it. It is already on its way to limbo, along with -_Robert Elsmere_ and _The Inside of the Cup_. But it is an excellent -illustration of the fate that awaits an artist when he sacrifices the -truth of art for the enforcement of personal opinion. There was a time -when the excitement over the question of trades-unions produced by -_Put Yourself in His Place_ was at fever heat; but that novel today is -almost forgotten, while _The Cloister and the Hearth_ will be read by -generation after generation, simply because it is a great story. - - - - -III - - -In order to illustrate what I mean by a realistic novelist whose -happiest effects are gained by writing good stories with real -characters, I know of no better choice among contemporaries than -Archibald Marshall. He is an artist of such dignity and refinement -that only twice in his career has he written a novel that had for its -main purpose something other than truth to life; in each of these two -attempts the result was a failure. - -I know how difficult it is to "recommend" novels to hungry readers, -for I have written prescriptions to alleviate many kinds of mental -trouble, yes, and physical ailments too; but how can I be sure that -the remedy will in every "case" be effective? I know that _Treasure -Island_ cured me of an attack of tonsillitis and that _Queed_ cured me -of acute indigestion; a United States naval officer informed me that -he recovered from jaundice simply by reading _Pride and Prejudice_. -These are facts; but what assurance have I that other sufferers can try -these prescriptions with reasonable hope? Yet I have no hesitancy in -recommending Archibald Marshall to any group of men or women or to any -individual of mature growth. One scholar of sixty years of age told -me that these novels had given him a quite new zest in life; and I -myself, who came upon them on one of the luckiest days of my existence, -confidently affirm the same judgment. Of the numerous persons that I -have induced to read these books, I have met with only one sceptic; -this was a shrewd, sharp-minded woman of eighty, who declared with -a hearty laugh that she found them insupportably tame. I understand -this hostility, for when girls reach the age of eighty, they demand -excitement. - -Those who are familiar with Mr. Marshall's work and life will easily -discover therein echoes of his own experience. He is an Englishman by -birth and descent, familiar with both town and country. He was born -on the sixth of September, 1866, and received in his home life and -preliminary training plenty of material which appeared later in the -novels. His father came from the city, like the father in _Abington -Abbey_; he himself was graduated from Trinity College, Cambridge, like -the son of _Peter Binney_; it was intended but not destined that he -should follow his father's business career, and he worked in a city -office like the son of Armitage Brown; he went to Australia like -the hero's sister in _Many Junes_; he made three visits to America, -but fortunately has not yet written an American novel; he studied -theology with the intention of becoming a clergyman in the Church of -England, like so many young men in his stories; in despair at finding a -publisher for his work, he became a publisher himself, and issued his -second novel, _The House of Merrilees_, which had as much success as -it deserved; he tried journalism before and during the war; he lived -in two small Sussex towns with literary associations, Winchelsea and -Rye, in the latter from 1908 to 1913; then until 1917 his home was in -Switzerland; he has now gone back to the scene of his university days, -Cambridge. - -In 1902 he was married and lived for some time in Beaulieu (pronounced -Bewly) in the New Forest, faithfully portrayed in _Exton Manor_. He -spent three happy years there planning and making a garden, like the -young man in _The Old Order Changeth_. Although his novels are filled -with hunting and shooting, he is not much of a sportsman himself, -being content only to observe. He loves the atmosphere of sport rather -than sport. His favourite recreations are walking, reading, painting, -and piano-playing, and the outdoor flavour of his books may in part be -accounted for by the fact that much of his writing is done in the open -air. - -Like many another successful man of letters, his first step was a -false start; for in 1899 he produced a novel called _Peter Binney, -Undergraduate_, which has never been republished in America, and -perhaps never will be. This is a topsy-turvy book, where an ignorant -father insists on entering Cambridge with his son; and after many weary -months of coaching, succeeds in getting his name on the books. The son -is a steady-headed, unassuming boy, immensely popular with his mates; -the father, determined to recapture his lost youth, disgraces his son -and the college by riotous living, and is finally expelled. The only -good things in the book are the excellent pictures of May Week and -some snap-shots at college customs; but the object of the author is so -evident and he has twisted reality so harshly in order to accomplish -it, that we have merely a work of distortion. - -For six years our novelist remained silent; and he never returned to -the method of reversed dynamics until the year 1915, when he published -_Upsidonia_, another failure. Once again his purpose is all too -clear; possibly irritated by the exaltation of slum stories and the -depreciation of the characters of the well-to-do often insisted upon in -such works, he wrote a satire in the manner of _Erewhon_, and called -it a novel. Here poverty and dirt are regarded as the highest virtues, -and the possession of wealth looked upon as the sure and swift road -to social ostracism. There is not a gleam of the author's true skill -in this book, mainly because he is so bent on arguing his case that -exaggeration triumphs rather too grossly over verisimilitude. He is, -of course, trying to write nonsense; a mark that some authors have hit -with deliberate aim, while perhaps more have attained the same result -with less conscious intention. Now Mr. Marshall cannot write nonsense -even when he tries; and failure in such an effort is particularly -depressing. He is at his best when his art is restrained and delicate; -in _Upsidonia_ he drops the engraving-tool and wields a meat-axe. Let -us do with _Peter Binney_ and with _Upsidonia_ what every other reader -has done; let us try to forget them, remembering only that two failures -in fifteen books is not a high proportion. - -Of the remaining thirteen novels, two attained only a partial success; -and the reason is interesting. These two are _The House of Merrilees_ -and _Many Junes_ (1908). The former was written in 1901 but publishers -would none of it, and it did not wear a print dress until 1905. -Meanwhile the author was trying his hand at short stories, for which -his method of work is not particularly fitted, his skill being in the -development of character rather than in the manufacture of incident. -He did, however, publish a collection of these tales in one volume, -called _The Terrors_, which appeared in 1913, their previous separate -publication covering a period of sixteen years. They are amazingly -unequal in value; some are excellent, and others trivial. This volume -is out of print, and whether any of the contents may be rescued from -oblivion is at present problematical. It is interesting, however, -that he, at the outset of his career, supposed that invention, rather -than observation, was his trump card. The realism of _The House of -Merrilees_ is mixed with melodrama and mystery; these are, in the -work of a dignified artist, dangerous allies, greater liabilities than -assets. In a personal letter he confesses that this artificial plot -hampered him; but he goes on to say, "the range of scene and character -in that book is something that I have never been able to catch since." -He has since--with only one relapse--happily forsaken artificially -constructed mysteries for the deepest mystery of all--the human heart. -In _Many Junes_, a story that will be reprinted in America in 1919, -we have pictures of English country life of surpassing loveliness; -we have an episode as warm and as fleeting as June itself; we have a -faithful analysis of the soul of a strange and solitary man, damned -from his birth by lack of decision. But the crisis in the tale is -brought about by an accident so improbable that the reader refuses to -believe it. The moment our author forsakes reality he is lost; it is as -necessary for him to keep the truth as it was for Samson to keep his -hair. Furthermore, this is the only one of Mr. Marshall's books that -has a tragic close--and his art cannot flourish in tragedy, any more -than a native of the tropics can live in Lapland. The bleak air of lost -illusion and frustrated hope, in which the foremost living novelist, -appropriately named, finds his soul's best climate, is not favourable -to Archibald Marshall. - -The "relapse" mentioned in the preceding paragraph occurred in the year -1912, when he published a long and wildly exciting novel, called _The -Mystery of Redmarsh Farm_. This has all the marks of a "best-seller" -and went through several editions in England, though it has not yet -been reprinted in America. I regard the writing of this book as the -most dangerous moment in Mr. Marshall's career, for its immediate -commercial success might easily have tempted him to continue in the -same vein, and if he had, he would have sunk to the level of a popular -entertainer, and lost his position among British novelists of the past -and present. Curiously enough, it came between two of his best works -in the Clinton series, _The Eldest Son_ (1911) and _The Honour of the -Clintons_ (1913). Maybe the chilling reception given to his finest -stories drove him to a cheaper style of composition. Maybe his long -second visit to Australia, where he saw and shared experiences quite -unlike his English environment, made him try his hand at mystery and -crime. In 1911 he had published _Sunny Australia_, the result of a -sojourn on that continent, whither he had gone as special commissioner -for the _Daily Mail_. There is a good deal of superficial cleverness in -_The Mystery of Redmarsh Farm_; its plot is elaborate, with a flavour -of _Lohengrin_; the beautiful lonely maiden's young brother is stolen -by a villain and rescued by a young hero who is appropriately named -Knightly; a misunderstanding separates the girl and her lover, who -sails away to Australia. Unlike Lohengrin, however, he returns, and -all is well. There is a conventional detective, and a murder trial and -a shipwreck and a recognition scene--I kept looking back to the title -page to see if the author really was Archibald Marshall. It is as -though Joseph Conrad should write like Marie Corelli. Yet although some -of the characters are unreal and the plot artificial and the villain -theatrical, the environment, whether in England or in Australia, is as -accurately painted as in Mr. Marshall's best stories. He will not write -of places that he has not seen. When the gypsies are found, they are -found in the New Forest; and any one who reads this yarn immediately -after _Sunny Australia_, will see that these distant scenes are -correctly described. - - - - -IV - - -It was in the year 1906, and in the novel _Richard Baldock_, that he -revealed his power. This book, which will make its first American -appearance in the autumn of 1918, contains a story so absorbing that -it is only in the retrospect that one realizes the vitality of its -characters and the delicacy of its art. There are no heroes and no -villains. Every person has the taint that we all inherited from Adam, -and every person has some reflection of the grace of God. There is no -one who does not say something foolish or ill-considered; and there -is no one who does not say something wise. In other words there are -no types, like "heavies," "juveniles," and "ingenues." As is the case -in nearly all the novels by its author, we are constantly revising -our opinions of the characters; and we revise them, not because the -characters are untrue, but because we learn to know them better. Human -nature is consistent only in its inconsistency. It is forever fluid and -dynamic; and although no individual has ever understood another, and -least of all himself, increasing knowledge helps to make us certain of -our uncertainty. No man will play the part his friends have written -for him. One reason why Shakespeare was a first-rate and Jonson a -second-rate dramatist is because Jonson created humours and Shakespeare -created individuals. Among all Shakespeare's personages, Hamlet is the -most interesting to readers and the most baffling to commentators; -because the latter try to adjust him to a theory of madness, weak will, -or what not. Is not the fact that he has never been understood by any -one and never will be, the strongest proof of his reality? Some think -he lacked backbone; others insist he was all backbone; some think he -was mad; others that he only pretended to be mad; while America's -greatest Shakespearean scholar said he was neither mad nor pretended -to be. A young gentleman of Hamlet's copious temperament, placed as he -was amid natural and supernatural forces, might easily at times seem to -illustrate any one of the above appraisals. Indeed I suppose the sanest -and most resolute among us seem at times to lack either resolution or -sanity or both. - -The more complex a character, the less dependable he is. And everybody -has some complexity. Even quiet Horatio, beloved of Hamlet for his -steady self-control, tried to commit suicide. - -Every fine novel and every fine drama must of course illustrate the law -of causation--the principle of sufficient reason. But characters that -run in grooves are not human. In _Richard Baldock_, we have, as we so -often have in the work of Archibald Marshall, strife between father and -son--a kind of civil war. This war, like many others, is begotten of -misunderstanding. There is not only the inevitable divergence between -the older and the younger generation, there is the divergence between -two powerful individualities. We at first sympathize wholly with the -son. We say to ourselves that if any man is foolish enough to sacrifice -all his joy in life to a narrow creed, why, after all, that is his -affair; it is only when he attempts to impose this cheerless and barren -austerity on others, that we raise the flag of revolt. At the deathbed -of the young mother, one of the most memorable scenes in our author's -books, we are quite certain that we shall never forgive the inflexible -bigot; this hatred for him is nourished when he attempts to crush the -son as he did crush his wife. Yet, as the story develops, and we see -more deeply into the hearts of all the characters, we understand how -the chasm between father and son is finally crossed. It is crossed by -the only durable bridge in the world--the bridge of love, which beareth -all things. - -Tolerance--when based not on indifference, but on sympathy--is tolerant -even of intolerance. - - - - -V - - -In 1907 appeared one of the most characteristic of Mr. Marshall's -novels, _Exton Manor_, which he began to write the day after he -finished _Richard Baldock_. It was naturally impossible for any -well-read reviewer to miss the likeness to Anthony Trollope. If -I believed in the transmigration of souls, I should believe that -Archibald Marshall was a reincarnation of Trollope, and William De -Morgan a reincarnation of Dickens. In an interesting preface written -for the American edition, Mr. Marshall manfully says that he has not -only tried to follow Anthony Trollope, "but the whole body of English -novelists of his date, who introduced you to a large number of people, -and left you with the feeling that you knew them all intimately, and -would have found yourself welcome in their society. That particular -note of intimacy seems to be lacking in the fiction of the present day, -and I should like to have it back." - -This instantly raises the question of Victorianism, to some a -stumbling-block, to some foolishness. For my part, if I did not -believe that the best Victorian fiction was superior to contemporary -work, I should not be so hearty an admirer of Archibald Marshall. -Indeed the best Victorian novels surpass our best twentieth century -novels in the one respect where we chiefly plume ourselves on our -claim to attention--I mean in the matter of sincerity. We talk about -sincerity all the time, but we protest too much; the essence of -sincerity is present perhaps more often in art, as it is in life, -where its profession is least urgent. Henry James, in the fragment -of autobiography called _The Middle Years_, wisely though oracularly -remarked, "Phenomena may be interesting, thank goodness, without being -phenomena of elegant expression or of any other form of restless -smartness, and when once type is strong, when once it plays up from -deep sources, every show of its sincerity delivers us a message and -we hang, to real suspense, on its continuance of energy, on its again -and yet again consistently acquitting itself. So it keeps in tune, -and, as the French adage says, _c'est le ton qui fait la chanson_. The -mid-Victorian London was sincere--that was a vast virtue and a vast -appeal; the contemporary is sceptical, and most so when most plausible." - -On a summer day in 1914, I had the pleasure of a ten-mile drive over -the hills with one of the wisest old men in America--Andrew D. White. -I remember his saying that one of the most fortunate things that could -happen to America would be a general ambition on the part of the more -educated classes to look forward as to a goal in life to making a -permanent home in the country. He said that in America men who make -a little money move into the city as soon as possible; whereas in -England, whenever a man makes a competence in the city he usually -establishes a home in the country. No one can read the novels of Mr. -Marshall without feeling that his books are so to speak based on this -ideal; he repeatedly insists that life in the country is the true life -for thoughtful men and women, and that the most delectable season for -the solid enjoyment of it is the winter. Nay, he takes the position--a -position also occupied by one of our ablest American novelists, Dorothy -Canfield--that the most favourable locality for studying human nature -is the small country village. He says, "Life in such a community as is -depicted in _Exton Manor_ is just as typical of English social habits -as it was in Trollope's day. The tendency of those who have hitherto -worked on the land to drift into the towns is not shared by the more -leisured classes. Their tendency is all the other way--to forsake the -towns for the country--and improved methods of communication keep -them more in touch with the world than they would have been fifty -years ago. But in spite of this increased dependency upon the outside -world, English country life is still intensely local in its personal -interests, and quite legitimately so, for it must be remembered that, -if the man who lives in a fairly populous country village comes across -fewer people than the man who lives in a town, he knows all about those -whom he does come across, and his acquaintances represent a far greater -variety of type and class than is met with where types and classes -tend to stratify. You have, in fact, in a typical country parish, a -microcosm of English social life, and there is, ready to the hand -of the realistic novelist, material from which he can draw as much -interest and variety as he is able to make use of." - -In another important question which concerns the art of the novelist, -I might applaud Mr. Marshall's dictum more unreservedly if I did not -happen to know of a gigantic witness against him. In forestalling -gossipy identification of his leading characters in _Exton Manor_, -he says, "It is not a novelist's business to draw portraits, but to -create living figures, and the nearer he gets to the first the farther -off will he be from the second." This certainly sounds well; but -unfortunately for its universal application, practically all of the -characters in _Anna Karenina_ are accurate portraits. - - - - -VI - - -To all those who have not yet read a single work by our author, I would -counsel them to begin with _The Squire's Daughter_, and then take -up--with particular care to preserve the correct sequence--_The Eldest -Son_, _The Honour of the Clintons_, _The Old Order Changeth_ [English -title, _Rank and Riches_]. These four stories deal with the family and -family affairs of the Clintons, and together with a separate book, -_The Greatest of These_ [English title, _Roding Rectory_], belong to -Mr. Marshall's best period, the years from 1909 to 1915. When I say -the best period, I mean the most fruitful up to the present moment in -1918. He is in the prime of life, and it is to be hoped that he may -yet surpass himself; but since 1915, perhaps owing to the obsession of -the war, he has not done so. _Watermeads_ (1916) is a charming story, -and in _Abington Abbey_ (1917), and its sequel, _The Graftons_ (1918), -he has introduced us to another interesting family; but neither of -these books reaches the level maintained by the Clinton tetralogy, nor -penetrates so deeply into the springs of life and conduct as his most -powerful work, _The Greatest of These_. - -Mr. Marshall began _The Squire's Daughter_ as a long "short story," -starting with what is now Chapter XII, _Food and Raiment_. He fell in -love with his characters, as many a novelist has done, and expanded -the narrative. Then he wrote _The Eldest Son_, which is the best of -the four books. Yet it was not a success in England, and at present -both _The Squire's Daughter_ and _The Eldest Son_ are out of print -in their home country; they are, however, having a daily-increasing -circulation in America, which is bound to resurrect them in Great -Britain. For that matter most of Mr. Marshall's novels are more widely -known and certainly more appreciated in the United States than in the -land of their nativity. In _The Honour of the Clintons_, the author's -intention was to "take up the old Squire, see what all his generations -of gentility and honour, and all his conviction that he is of superior -clay, amount to when he is touched with personal disgrace." He -discovered, as Dickens must have discovered in writing the _Pickwick -Papers_, that his hero turned out rather better than he thought he -would. This third book in the series was written under inspiration, -completed in six weeks, and at the time came almost as near satisfying -the author as it always has satisfied me. But a friend, with true -English candour, said to him, "All the ingredients of the cake are -there, but the cake hasn't risen." Anyhow, the Squire rose, whether the -cake did or not. - -The final novel in the Clinton family, _The Old Order Changeth_, shows -the effect produced on both Rank and Riches by the Great War. Mr. -Marshall began this story with many misgivings, and it is still not one -of his favourites, chiefly because "there are so many beastly people in -it." But so long as I live it will hold a secure place in my heart, for -this is the first work of the author's that I saw. Indeed I had never -heard of him until I picked up _The Old Order Changeth_. I started -to read it with no conception of the keen delight in store; after -finishing it, I wrote to the publishers, "Who on earth is Archibald -Marshall? There is no one like him in the world. Send me everything he -has written." Since that moment of exaltation, I have read and reread -the Clinton books, and each time they seem better. - -To read the Clinton stories is to be a welcome guest in a noble old -English country house, to meet and to associate on terms of happy -intimacy with delightful, well-bred, clear-minded men and women; -to share the outdoor life of healthful sport, and the pleasant -conversation around the open fire; to sharpen one's observation of -natural scenery in summer and in winter, and in this way to make a -permanent addition to one's mental resources; to learn the significance -of good manners, tact, modesty, kindly consideration, purity of -heart--not by wearisome precepts, but by their flower and fruit in -human action. To read these books is not to dodge life, it is to have -it more abundantly. - -If, as Bacon said, a man dies as often as he loses his friends, then -he gains vitality by every additional friendship. To know the Clinton -family and their acquaintances is not merely to be let into the inner -circle of English country life, to discover for ourselves exactly what -sort of people English country folk are, to understand what family -tradition and ownership of the land mean to them--it is to enlarge -our own range of experience and to increase our own stock of genuine -happiness, by adding to our mental life true friends--and friends that -are always available. For often the friends of flesh and blood cannot -be reached when we need them most; perhaps they are asleep, or away on -a journey; but the staunch old friends introduced to us by novelists -never deny themselves. Is not this a fairly good reason why, among -all the novels we read, some at all events should be selected for the -immanent charm of their characters? I know how uncritical it is to -admire any work of art that possesses the element of cheerfulness; but -suppose our reading of novels were entirely confined to the works of -Maxim Gorki? - -Why should we always select acquaintances in fiction that we always -avoid in real life? Is it the same instinct that makes so many persons -love to go slumming? - -There is perhaps rather too strong a flavour of tea in these stories, -but that no doubt is a legitimate part of their realism. The sacred -rite of afternoon tea plays fully as big a part in English fiction -as it plays in English life. Tea--which would be an intolerable -interruption to business or to golf among normal Americans--is never -superfluous to the British. Among the hundreds of English novels that -you have read, can you recall a single instance where any character -_declined_ a cup of tea? And, in terrible crises or trivial vexations, -is not the following exclamation familiar--"I am dying for my tea!" I -sometimes think that if the house should be destroyed by fire at three -o'clock, half-past four would find the family taking tea on the lawn. -I remember, on a voyage to Alaska, a vigorous old English woman who -appeared on deck every day between four and five, and when she saw the -circulation of the china, a look of holy rapture dawned in her eyes, -and from her lips came an ecstatic cry, "Ah, is there tea going?" It -must be wonderful to love anything on earth so much as the English love -their tea. - -Two months after writing the above paragraph, I received testimony -which delightfully supports the view expressed. An Englishman informs -me, that after the big sea-fight of Jutland, he had the privilege of -conversing with an English blue-jacket who was perched aloft during the -whole of that terrific experience. There he remained under orders, in -the thick of the battle, with the bolts of death flying all about him. -On being asked how he felt, the young man exclaimed with a tone of -regret, "Well, of course, I had to miss my tea." - -Not since Fielding's Squire Western has there been a more vivid English -country squire than Mr. Marshall's Squire Clinton. The difference -between them is the difference between the eighteenth and the twentieth -centuries. He is the man of the house, the head of the family, and it -is not until we have read all four of the stories that we can obtain -a complete view of his character. He is a living, breathing man, and -we see the expression on his face, and hear the tones of his voice, -which his daughters imitate so irresistibly. With all his pride and -prejudice, with all his childish irritableness, he is the idol of the -household. His skull is as thick as English oak, but he has a heart -of gold. He is stupid, but never contemptible. And when the war with -Germany breaks out in 1914, he rises to a magnificent climax in the -altercation with Armitage Brown. We hear in his torrent of angry -eloquence not merely the voice of one man, but the combined voices of -all the generations that have developed him. - -Yet while Mr. Marshall has made an outstanding and unforgettable figure -of the fox-hunting Squire, it is in the portrayal of the women of the -family that he shows his most delicate art. This is possibly because -his skill as an artist is reinforced by profound sympathy. The Squire -is so obtuse that it has never dawned upon his mind that his wife is a -thousand times cleverer than he, or that her daily repression has in -it anything savouring of tragedy. In the third book, _The Honour of -the Clintons_, intense and prolonged suffering begins to sharpen his -dull sight; and the scenes between the old pair are unspeakably tender -and beautiful. Mr. Marshall never preaches, never tries to adorn the -tale by pointing a moral. But the wild escapade of the daughter in the -first of these stories, and the insistence of the mother on a superior -education for the twins exhibit more clearly than any letter to the -_Times_ could do, what the author thinks about the difference between -the position women have held in English country homes and the position -they ought to have. - -Of all his characters, perhaps those that the reader will remember -with the highest flood of happy recollection are the twins, Joan and -Nancy. In the first novel, this wonderful pair are aged thirteen; in -the second, they are fifteen; in the third, they are twenty-one. Mr. -Marshall is particularly skilful in the drawing of young girls; and -after one has read _Ann Veronica_, I can think of no better antidote -than these Clinton books. Whatever may be woman's place in the future, -whatever she may drink or smoke or wear or say or do, there is one -kind of girl that can never become unattractive; and the Clinton -twins illustrate that kind. They are healthy, modest, quick-witted, -affectionate, high-spirited; when they come in laughing and glowing -from a game of tennis, and take their places at the family tea-table, -they bring the breath of life into the room. - -In _The Eldest Son_, which of the four delightful books dealing with -the Clinton family, I find most delightful, there is a suggestion of -the author's attitude toward humanity in the procession of candidates -for governess that passes before the penetrating eyes of Mrs. Clinton. -Her love for the old Starling--one of the most original of Mr. -Marshall's creations--has not blinded Mrs. Clinton to the latter's -incompetence for the task of training so alert a pair as the twins. -Of the women who present themselves for this difficult position, not -one is wholly desirable; and it is plain that Mrs. Clinton knows in -advance that this will be the case. She is not looking for an ideal -teacher, for such curiosities are not to be found on our planet; -the main requisite is brains, and she selects finally the candidate -whom many society women would immediately dismiss as impossible, -the uncompromising, hard-headed, sexless Miss Phipps, who has about -as much amenity as a steamroller. Miss Phipps bristles with faults; -but they are the faults that spring from excess of energy, from -a devotion to scholarship so exclusive that the minor graces and -minor pleasures of life have received in her daily scheme even less -than their due. But the twins already possess everything lacking in -the composition of their teacher; what they need is not a sweet, -sympathetic companion, what they need is what nearly every one needs, -mental discipline, mental training, and an increase in knowledge and -ideas. In this dress-parade of candidates we have a miniature parade -of humanity in the large; no one is faultless; but those who have an -honest mind and an honest character have something essential. And who -knows but what the shrewd and deep-hearted Mrs. Clinton did not also -see that in the association of this mirthless expert with two young -incarnations of vitality and vivacity, both parties to the contract -might learn something of value? Miss Phipps is about to discover that -the country-side in winter has resources entirely unguessed at by her -bookish soul; that there are many of her countrymen and country-women -who find in outdoor sport a secret of health and happiness. - - Her bedroom was in the front of the house, and she had - heard, without much heeding them, the wheels and the - beat of horse-hoofs and the voices outside. Now she - began to be a little curious as to what was going on, - and rose and drew up her blind and looked out. - - The scene was quite new to her, and in spite of herself - she exclaimed at it. Immediately beyond the wide gravel - sweep in front of the house was the grass of the park, - where the whole brave show of the South Meadshire Hunt - was collected. It is doubtful if she had ever seen a - pack of hounds in her life, and she watched them as if - fascinated. Presently, at some signal which she had - not discerned, the huntsman and the whips turned and - trotted off with them, and behind them streamed all the - horsemen and horsewomen, the carriages and carts, and - the people on foot, until the whole scene which had - been so full of life and colour was entirely empty of - all human occupation, and there was only the damp grass - of the park and the big bare trees under the pearly - grey of the winter sky. She saw the Squire ride off - on his powerful horse, and admired his sturdy erect - carriage, and she saw Dick and Virginia, side by side, - Humphrey, the pink of sartorial hunting perfection, - Mrs. Clinton in her carriage, with Miss Dexter by - her side and the twins opposite to her, and for a - moment wished she had accepted her invitation to make - one of the party, although she did not in the least - understand where they were going to, or what they were - going to do when they got there. All this concourse of - apparently well-to-do and completely leisured people - going seriously about a business so remote from any of - the interests in life that she had known struck her as - entirely strange and inexplicable. She might have been - in the midst of some odd rites in an unexplored land. - The very look of the country in its winter dress was - strange to her, for she was a lifelong Londoner and - the country to her only meant a place where one spent - summer holidays. - - - - -VII - - -The novel _Watermeads_ (1916), particularly welcome to me because the -friend who wore a grotesque mask in _Upsidonia_ showed his healthy, -agreeable, English face again, opens characteristically with the entire -family gathered around the tea-table in a sunlit room in an old manor -house. This story is mainly concerned with the waxing and waning of a -marriage-engagement; the rich fiancée seems well enough among her own -people and in her own environment; her lack of breeding appears with -steadily increasing emphasis when she is brought into the circle of the -squire's household. The restraint shown by Mr. Marshall in contrasting -her with the people among whom she is expected to live is worthy of the -highest praise. There is nothing exaggerated, not a trace of burlesque; -little touches, shades of speech and conduct, the expression at the -corners of the girl's mouth when she is displeased or unsatisfied, all -combine to lower the temperature in her lover's heart. Nor is there -anything snobbish in this increasing coldness. No matter how important -may be a difference in manners or social breeding, love could make a -happy fusion; it is, however, not in one act of villainy, but in many -trifles light as air that the young woman is finally, even to the -myopic eyes of passion, revealed as wholly selfish. - -Two accidents--youth and cash--give to this girl an assurance that -finally makes her odious; but women who have neither can be equally -offensive. Her prospective mother-in-law, the squire's wife, parades -the decline in the family's finances so obtrusively that she becomes -as tiresome as a flapping curtain. When Lord Kirby is shown by her -through the ancestral home, he escapes with a sense of enormous relief, -saying to his wife, "That's an awful woman. You hear about people being -purse-proud, but she seems to be empty-purse-proud, and I don't know -that that isn't worse. If people are as hard up as that they ought to -hide it." - -In _Abington Abbey_ (1917) and _The Graftons_ (1918) we have really one -book, and the last page of the sequel makes me hope that the history of -this charming family may be continued--I don't care through how many -volumes. Mr. Grafton is a gentleman, and the way in which he settles -the various problems of family discipline and the affairs of the -estate springs from his unerring good sense. His daughters adore their -widower-father, but each in her own manner. And though they are all -attractive, I know which one I like the best. - -Mr. Marshall published with _The Graftons_ an exceedingly interesting -Introduction, containing a defense of his methods which is not -needed by intelligent readers, but which may enlighten those who -do not understand what he is about. In a personal letter, however, -he expressed himself in words that I like better than his printed -apologia. "The Grafton family isn't so rich in varied interest as the -Clinton family, but I hope they will make their friends. I think they -are as 'nice' a family as any I've drawn. I set out simply to show -them in their country home, and make their country neighbours display -themselves in the light of their critical humour, without much idea of -a story. It turned into something rather different, and I'm not quite -sure about it yet. And it has taken two books to work it out." - -Now the reason why I like this ink-epistle better than the formal -preface is because in the latter Mr. Marshall seemed to think it -necessary to reply to those critics who said he ought to discuss in -his novels the economic questions concerned with the tenure of the -land. If he should by some evil temptation make economic questions -the basis of his stories of English country life, he would commit the -cardinal sin that has corrupted so much of contemporary fiction, the -sin that I condemned at the outset of this essay. The most conspicuous -element in his art is Charm. If some one should persuade him that he -ought to become more "serious," his novels would lose their atmosphere; -and he might find himself writing like that earnest student of modern -movements, Mrs. Humphry Ward. - -I am aware that the most insulting epithet that can be applied to a -book, or a play, or a human being is the word "Puritan"; and I remember -reading a review somewhere of _Abington Abbey_ which commented rather -satirically on the interview between Grafton and Lassigny, and most -satirically of all on the conclusion of the interview, which left the -stiff, prejudiced, puritanical British parent in possession of the -field. But once more, Mr. Marshall is not trying to prove a thesis; -he is representing the Englishman and the Frenchman in a hot debate, -where neither is right and neither is wrong, but where each is partly -right and partly wrong. Each says in the heat of the contest something -injudicious, even as men do when they are angry. But when Lassigny -literally takes French leave, we do not care who has scored the most -points; the real winner is the one who is not present--the girl -herself. For when two men fight about a woman, as they do somewhere -every day, the truly important question is not, which man wins the -fight? The only real question is, does the woman win? - -It will never do to make generalizations from merely one of Mr. -Marshall's novels. If we had only _Abington Abbey_, we might imagine -that he detested the clergy, for the clergyman in this book is surely -detestable; but in _The Greatest of These_ there are two clergymen who -are admirable characters, and a third who is by no means wholly or -even mainly evil. Like an honest student of life, Mr. Marshall never -considers a man as a representative of a business, but as a human -being. No man is good because he is a clergyman; but it would be well -perhaps if every member of that highest of all professions were a -clergyman because he was good. - - - - -VIII - - -There is an unconscious double meaning in the American name given to -the novel published in 1914, _The Greatest of These_, for it can be -taken not only in the Pauline significance, but as the greatest of -these books we are considering. It is the most ambitious and on the -whole the most effective of its author's productions, containing also -the essence of his religion--charity contrasted with opinions. We -have an illustration of his favourite method of portraying the shade -and shine of human character by placing in opposition two leading -representatives of two large classes of nominal Christians--a clergyman -of the Church of England and a minister of the Dissenters. Mr. Marshall -never wrote a better first chapter. The reader is instantly aware -that he has in his hands a masterpiece. Every leading character is -introduced in the opening chapter either in person or in allusive -conversation, and we know that Mr. Marshall has what most novelists -seek in vain--a real plot. This book, which eventually rises to the -highest spiritual altitude attained thus far by its author, begins on -a note of sordid sex-tragedy, as unusual in the stories of Mr. Marshall -as a picture like the Price household is in the work of Jane Austen; -here it serves to bring forward the forthright and self-satisfied -Anglican, who little dreams of his approaching humiliation; he is -brought into conflict with a kind of Zeal-of-the-land Busy, whose -aggressive self-righteousness is to be softened by the very man who he -hoped would harden it. Here too, as in _Exton Manor_, we come as near -as we ever come in Mr. Marshall's books to meeting a villain--in each -case it is a woman with a serpent's tongue. - -The time-element in _The Greatest of These_ is managed with consummate -skill. So far as the novel has a hero, it is the Rev. Dr. Merrow. He -does not appear in Roding until the one-hundred-and-sixty-third page, -but there is so much talk, for and against him, that the reader awaits -his arrival at the railway station with fully as much eagerness as any -of the village gossips. And then, owing to the Doctor's fatigue from -the journey, the reader is as baffled as the parishioners. It is quite -impossible to discover what manner of man he is. The author refuses -to help us, preferring to let his leading character reveal himself -without any manipulation behind the scenes. This revelation is gradual, -made up of many little details of speech and behaviour, as it would be -in real life. - -But although the personality of the man is not clear until more than -half of the book has passed, the ninth chapter, which shows him in -action in London as a public institution, is one of the most powerful -pieces of prose Mr. Marshall has ever composed. He writes as if -inspired by the theme. Not only is it a magnificent description of a -great occasion, its dramatic power is immensely heightened because -we see it through the eyes of a young ritualist, to whom it is as -strange--and at first as repellent--as some vulgar heathen observance. -But gradually distaste changes to interest, and interest to enthusiasm. -Such passages as the following are entirely unlike the ordinary current -of Mr. Marshall's style, but it is a proof that he can reach the -heights when the occasion calls. - - There came more of these sentences. The spark had - caught; the furnace was beginning to glow. George - gazed at the preacher with his own face alight. His - surroundings were forgotten.... If this was the kind - of preaching that had brought Dr. Merrow his great - reputation, then he understood its appeal, and was - himself moved by it. It came from something beyond - creeds, far beyond differences in methods of worship. - It had been heard in all ages of the Church, amidst the - splendours of mediæval superstition, as in the crude - barrenness of modern revivalism. The spirit moved on - the face of the waters; the stagnancy of mere words was - broken; there was life and healing in them. - - The words came faster. The voice grew stronger, and - took on a different tone, as if on an organ a touch - of reed had been added to diapason. The slightly bent - figure became straighter, the worn face younger. The - preacher began to use his hands--thin, flexible, - nervous hands, which seemed to clutch at deep truths, - and fling them out for the world to take hold of. Soon - the burning words came in a torrent, as of a rushing - mass of water of irresistible force, yet bound within - its directing channel. Every now and then they sank - to a deep calm, but were still infused with the same - concentrative power. Such words had stirred men's - minds and souls in long past ages. Spoken on bare - hillsides underneath the symbol of faith, they had - converted kingdoms. Flung forth over throngs of rough - fighting men, they had turned bloodshed and rapine into - righteous crusades. Their power was older than that - of Christianity itself. In the dim ages of religious - history it had singled out Aaron for the priesthood, - and put him above Moses, the warrior leader. Later, - it had burst the bonds of the priesthood itself, and - winged the utterances of great prophets. - -Every page that we turn in this extraordinary book lessens the distance -not only in time but in sympathy between the Rector and the Pastor. -The orthodox evangelical chapel orator is drawn with just the insight -one would superficially _not_ expect from a man of Mr. Marshall's -birth, breeding, and environment. He is certainly the author's finest -achievement, even finer than Squire Clinton, for he is more difficult -to draw. The Rev. Dr. Merrow must be added to Chaucer's Poore Persoun -and to Goldsmith's Village Preacher as one more permanent clerical -figure in imaginative literature. - -Lesser personages in this story are given with the same care in detail, -until we feel their presence as personal friends. The curate, the -Rev. George Barton, so completely misunderstood by Mrs. Merrow, is an -almost flawless portrait. His healthy, athletic outdoor nature and the -development of his inner life are both presented with subtle, delicate -strokes of the pen possible only to an artist of distinction. - -It is interesting to contemplate side by side in the reader's mind -the wife of the Rector and the wife of the Pastor. Both are good -women--their only similarity. Lady Ruth, a born aristocrat, with a -"temperamental inability to comport herself as the busy wife of a busy -clergyman" is one of the most gracious and lovely figures created by -our novelist, which means that her charm is irresistible. The less -admirable, but more energetic wife of Dr. Merrow is so perfect a -representative of the busy city pastor's helpmate that we can only -wonder how it is possible to put on paper any creation so real. There -is not a false touch in this picture. William Allingham wrote in his -diary after reading one of Browning's poems, "Bravo, Browning!" Upon -finishing _The Greatest of These_, which I confidently call a great -novel, I could hardly refrain from a shout of applause. - - - - -IX - - -Mr. Marshall is a twentieth century novelist, because he is happily -yet alive, and because he writes of twentieth century scenes and -characters; but he is apart from the main currents of twentieth -century fiction, standing indeed in the midst of the stream like a -commemorative pillar to Victorian art. He has never written historical -romance, which dominated the novel at the beginning of our century; he -has never written the "life" novel--beginning with the hero's birth and -travelling with plotless chronology, the type most in favour since the -year 1906; he has never written a treatise and called it a novel, as so -many of his contemporaries have done. Every one of his novels, except -the two unfortunate burlesques, is a good story, with a good plot and -living characters; and he has chosen to write about well-bred people, -because those are the people he knows best. - -It is also well to remember, that although his best novels are -parochial, he himself is a citizen of the world. He has seen the North -Cape, he has lived in the Australian bush, in various European cities, -and has traveled extensively in America. One reason why he can describe -English country life so clearly is because he sees it in the proper -perspective. He is at home in any community on earth. - -I call him a realistic novelist, because his realism is of the highest -and most convincing kind--it constantly reminds us of reality. I cannot -see why a well-constructed story, that deals mainly with attractive men -and women, and ends on a note of robust cheerfulness, should have any -less right to the adjective "realistic" than an ill-arranged transcript -of the existence of creatures living amongst poverty, filth, and crime. -And so far as Mr. Marshall's Victorian reticence on questions of sex -is concerned, this strengthens his right to the title Realist. As -Henry James said, the moment you insist that animalism must have its -place in works of art, there almost always seems to be no place for -anything else. If a novelist is to represent real life, he must make -subordinate and incidental what in some novels dominates every page. -If a writer is to describe events as they really happen, to portray -men and women as they really are, to create living characters that -can be recognized in modern society, he ought to emphasize in his art -what life itself emphasizes--the difference between man and the lower -animals. The curious thing is that in many so-called realistic novels -it is impossible to distinguish between human beings and the beasts of -the field; the well-understood likeness is stressed so heavily that not -only the individual, but even the type is lost. One can hardly call so -total an absence of discrimination true art. Even the most elementary -man or woman is less elementary than a beast; and is it not true that -the greater the complexity, the greater the skill required to report it -truly? - -And here is a strange thing. It is only in stories of human beings that -our would-be realists insist that animalism should be most frankly and -most minutely portrayed. When we come to dog-stories--of which there -are many--the element of sex is as a rule wholly omitted. Yet surely -this is more salient in the life of a dog than in the life of a man. - -Archibald Marshall is a realist. He represents cultivated men and -women as we saw them yesterday, and as we shall see them tomorrow. He -seldom disappoints us, for among all living novelists, whilst he is -not the greatest, he is the most reliable. It is difficult to analyse -the extraordinary charm of his stories, for they are simpler than -simplicity. He takes us literally into the bosom of a family, where -each member has a distinct individuality, and the novel progresses -like beautiful voices with orchestral accompaniment--each individual -in turn singing an air, while the family fortunes supply the harmony. -To read his books is to associate with people whom it is highly -important to know--not because of their social standing, but because -of their solid worth. His good characters are fundamentally good. -They are seldom brilliant, and almost never reformers. They are more -altruistic than philanthropic. They possess the fine old virtues of -purity, wholesomeness, generosity, loving-kindness, honesty, loyalty, -tact, consideration; such persons are always lovable in life, which is -why they are lovable in these books. His heroes are not saviours of -society, they are simply good companions, be the weather fair or foul; -and we are never sickened by the diaphanous veneer of sentimentality. -His villains seldom break the law of the land, and do not reek of -melodrama. They are inconsiderate, garrulous, inopportune, stupid, -meddling, officiously helpful, which is sometimes worse than deliberate -hostility. Mrs. Prentice in _Exton Manor_ is his most offensive -specimen, and according to the wisdom of the Book of Proverbs, she is -one of the four things for which the earth is disquieted--"an odious -woman when she is married." These respectable villains, who often cause -more suffering than professional criminals, receive the punishment -of unpopularity. But in most of his characters the elements are more -kindly mixed. We have on every page the delight of recognition--the -figures are so perfectly drawn that we are under the illusion that they -are alive. - -Although these stories are never explicitly didactic, they are -ethically as well as artistically true. Beneath the surface of -light conversation and trivial incident we find an idea that works -for righteousness. This idea is so variously and so frequently -illustrated that I think it must be the foundation of the author's -philosophy of life and conduct. He would have us believe that different -individuals, different social classes, different communities dislike -and distrust each other mainly through ignorance. He would not -say in the old phrase, to understand is to forgive, he would say -something without any taint of condescension, something finer and -more fruitful--to understand is to respect, to admire, to love. The -inefficient aristocrat and the pushing millionaire despise each other, -the haughty Churchman and the pious Dissenter distrust each other's -motives until they are brought by the force of circumstances into an -unescapable daily intimacy; the result of which to both is surprising -and agreeable. Apparently what we all need is more imagination, -more intelligence. These novels make a combined attack on the last -infirmity of both noble and ignoble minds, that last citadel of -stupidity--Prejudice. - - - - -BIBLIOGRAPHY - - - English - publication American - - Peter Binney, Undergraduate 1899 .... - The House of Merrilees 1905 1905 - Richard Baldock 1906 1918 - Exton Manor 1907 1908 - Many Junes 1908 1919 - The Squire's Daughter 1909 1912 - The Eldest Son 1911 1911 - Sunny Australia (_sketches of travel_) 1911 .... - The Mystery of Redmarsh Farm 1912 .... - The Honour of the Clintons 1913 1913 - The Terrors (_short stories_) 1913 .... - The Greatest of These (Roding Rectory) 1914 1914 - The Old Order Changeth (Rank and Riches) 1915 1915 - Upsidonia 1915 1917 - Watermeads 1916 1916 - Abington Abbey 1917 1917 - The Graftons 1918 1918 - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Archibald Marshall, a Realistic -Novelist, by William Lyon Phelps - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ARCHIBALD MARSHALL *** - -***** This file should be named 60686-8.txt or 60686-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/0/6/8/60686/ - -Produced by Carlos Colon, the University of Toronto and -the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images -generously made available by The Internet Archive/Canadian -Libraries) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Archibald Marshall, a Realistic Novelist - -Author: William Lyon Phelps - -Release Date: November 14, 2019 [EBook #60686] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ARCHIBALD MARSHALL *** - - - - -Produced by Carlos Colon, the University of Toronto and -the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images -generously made available by The Internet Archive/Canadian -Libraries) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="box">Transcriber's Notes:<br /> -<br /> - - -Blank pages have been eliminated.<br /> -<br /> -Variations in spelling and hyphenation have been left as in the -original.<br /> -<br /> -A few typographical errors have been corrected.<br /> -<br /> -The cover page was created by the transcriber and can be considered public domain.</p></div> -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<div class="chapter"> - - - - -<div class="figcenter4em" id="illo1"><img src="images/illo1.jpg" width="350" -height="511" alt="" title="" /> -<div class="caption"> -ARCHIBALD MARSHALL -</div></div></div><hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h1> ARCHIBALD MARSHALL<br /> -<span class="medium"><i>A Realistic Novelist</i></span></h1> - -<p class="center">BY<br /> -WILLIAM LYON PHELPS<br /> -Lampson Professor of English Literature at Yale</p> - -<p class="center p4">WITH FRONTISPIECE</p> - -<div class="figcenter4em" id="illo2"><img src="images/illo2.jpg" width="100" -height="92" alt="" title="" /></div> - -<p class="center">NEW YORK<br /> -DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY<br /> -1919</p></div> -<hr class="chap" /> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="center p6"><span class="smcap">Copyright, 1918, by</span><br /> -DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY, <span class="smcap">Inc.</span></p></div><hr class="chap" /> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="center p6">TO<br /> -THE DEPARTMENT OF ENGLISH<br /> -OF<br /> -THE UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO</p> - -<p class="center p4">NOTABLE FOR SCHOLARS AND TEACHERS AND -TWO CREATIVE ARTISTS</p> - -<p class="center p2">THE NOVELIST ROBERT HERRICK</p> -<p class="center">THE POET WILLIAM VAUGHN MOODY</p></div> -<hr class="chap" /> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2>PREFACE</h2> - - -<p>The original form of this book was a lecture -on the William Vaughn Moody foundation at -the University of Chicago, delivered on the -sixth of February, 1918. A portion of it was -subsequently printed in the <i>North American -Review</i>. It now appears considerably revised -and enlarged.</p> - -<p class="right">W. L. P.</p> - -<p class="i2"><i>Yale University,<br /> -Tuesday, 21 May, 1918.</i></p></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="p6"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2>ARCHIBALD MARSHALL</h2></div> - - -<p>On a mellow day in the early autumn of -the year 1900, I sat on an old wooden -bench in the open air with an English -gentleman, and listened to his conversation -with a mixture of curiosity and reverence. -The place was one of the fairest counties of -England, the town on the other side of a screen -of trees was Dorchester, and my seat-mate was -Thomas Hardy. I remember his saying without -any additional emphasis than the weight of -the words, that the basis of every novel should -be a story. In considering this remark, which -came, not from a doctrinaire, but from a master -of long and triumphant experience, I could not -help thinking that what seems axiomatic is -often belied by a majority of instances. Thus, -we church-members would agree that religion -must take the first place in our lives; yet a -disinterested observer, who should begin at the -other end of the proposition and examine our -lives merely to discover what actually did take<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span> -the first place therein, might conceivably miss -the element of religion altogether. In the same -way, while it would theoretically seem that -every novel must be a story, an honest critic -who should examine the total product of prose -fiction for any given year in the twentieth century, -might, in a large number of cases, easily -fail to find any story at all.</p> - -<p>As we look back over the history of the English -novel, it would appear that every permanent -work of fiction has been a great story. -<i>Robinson Crusoe</i>, <i>Clarissa</i>, <i>Tom Jones</i>, <i>Humphry -Clinker</i>, <i>The Bride of Lammermoor</i>, <i>Pride -and Prejudice</i>, <i>Esmond</i>, <i>David Copperfield</i>, <i>The -Mill on the Floss</i>, <i>Richard Feverel</i>, <i>The Return -of the Native</i>, <i>Treasure Island</i>, <i>The Last of -the Mohicans</i>, <i>The Scarlet Letter</i>, <i>Huckleberry -Finn</i>, although they represent various shades -of realism and romanticism, have all been primarily -stories, in which we follow the fortunes -of the chief actors with steady interest. These -books owe their supremacy in fiction—at least, -most of them do—to a combination of narrative, -character, and style; every one of them, if -given in colloquial paraphrase to a group of -men around a camp-fire, would be rewarded -with attention.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span></p> - -<p>Sometimes the very thing that gives a drama -or a novel immediate currency makes it smell -of mortality; by taking advantage of some -hotly-discussed social question, general interest -is awakened; but when the question is obsolete, -what becomes of the work of art? I shall not -venture to make a prediction; but I think it is -at least possible that some of the earlier plays -of Ibsen, like <i>The Pretenders</i>, may outlast some -of the later ones, like <i>Ghosts</i>; the later ones -blaze with the flames of public debate, the -earlier reflect the light of the stars.</p> - -<p>Of all forms of literature, the novel has suffered -most by its desertion of art for propaganda. -It has been debased by its popularity. -It lends itself so easily as a channel for political, -social or religious oratory. Every theorist -uses it as a megaphone. Although novels are -as common as grasshoppers, good stories are -scarce. Now this desertion of art for propaganda -is founded on the fallacy that a work of -pure fiction cannot stand or ought not to stand -by itself, but should lean on politics, social -reform, science, or theology for support. We -do not insist on a thesis in sculpture or music -or painting or poetry. There have been, indeed, -many attempts to turn Pegasus into a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> -cart-horse; and unfortunately the attempt is -almost invariably successful.</p> - -<p>I prefer novels that express the opinions of -the characters in the story to those that express -the opinions of the author. I do not mean that -all novels ought to be impersonal; such a result, -even when most ardently desired by the novelist, -is impossible of achievement. The work of -every true artist reflects his personality, and is, -in a sense, subjective. Even the coldest novels -betray their makers' sympathies, and the standpoint -from which they regard the world. But -there is a difference between having ideas and -arguing a case. Women who have ideas are -always more interesting than those who have -only opinions.</p> - -<p>Why is it that so many novelists write their -best books early in their careers? Is it not -sometimes because the original impelling artistic -impulse becomes dulled in contact with -society, and thoughts take the place of thought? -The thorns of this world spring up and choke -them. It is by no accident that <i>The Mill -on the Floss</i> is a greater novel than <i>Daniel -Deronda</i>.</p> - -<p>The most enduring novels come from the -silent depths in a writer's soul, not from the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span> -turbulent shallows. To live deeply is easier -in a country where deep living has been done -for centuries than in a country whose human -history is brief. If we should really feel -chagrined by America's native contribution to -literature in comparison with that of Europe, -we might justifiably console ourselves by comparing -America with Australia. Surely one -reason why the British today write novels -rather better than the Americans, is because -their roots go down deeper into the rich soil -of the past. Men of genius are scarce in any -locality, and I am not at this moment thinking -of them; but I am constantly surprised at the -large number of contemporary novels produced -in Great Britain whose literary style bears the -unmistakable stamp of distinction. There are -leaders, whose names are known everywhere; -there are men and women who might conceivably -be leaders if they lived out of Europe. -The best reason why many admirable -twentieth century works of prose fiction in -England fail to attract general attention is -because the level of excellence is so high.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="p6"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2>II</h2></div> - - -<p>H. G. Wells is not the hero of this -book. I am holding my roses for a -figure that has not yet appeared upon -my little stage. But the career of Mr. Wells, -whose novels have almost every quality except -charm, is interesting to contemplate. That he -is a born novelist was clear to me so early as -the year 1895, when one of his best stories -appeared—<i>The Wheels of Chance</i>. Not long -after came the novels of science and socialism -that carried his name around the world; he -was discussed in the salons of Paris and in -the prisons of Siberia. His books were all -busy, noisy, talkative, restless; they reflected -in their almost truculent mental aggressiveness -the mass of undigested and indigestible quasi-scientific -fodder that perhaps disturbs more -than it nourishes the twentieth century stomach; -they made many readers fondly believe -they were living the intellectual life. I mistakenly -supposed he would keep up this squirrel-cage -activity to the end of his days; for I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> -mistakenly supposed in all this clatter he was -incapable of hearing the voice of the spirit. I -used to think that if all the world suddenly became -religious except one man, that man would -be H. G. Wells.</p> - -<p>The war, which diverted the energies of so -many quiet thinkers to matters of immediate -and practical efficiency, produced a rather different -effect upon this interesting man. He -began to regard things that are temporal in -relation to those of eternal import. He became -converted—I have no hesitation in using the -good old word—and while I can see no evidence -of conviction of sin, for humility is not his most -salient characteristic, he did come to believe -and believes now, that religion ought to be the -motive power of man. What direction his -ideas may take in the future I cannot divine; -but I am thankful for his conversion, if only -for the reason that it inspired him to produce -a masterpiece, <i>Mr. Britling Sees It Through</i>. -This novel is not only far and away his best -book, it is the ablest work of fiction about the -war that I have read. But it owes its eminence -not to its accurate reporting of the course of -social history during the war, for after all, the -much admired hockey-game is not much higher<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> -than major journalism, but rather to the profound -sense of spiritual values which is the -core of the book.</p> - -<p>I regard it as unfortunate that Mr. Wells -felt it necessary to follow up the triumph of -this tale with a treatise on theology called <i>God -the Invisible King</i>, and with a propagandist -novel, called <i>The Soul of a Bishop</i>. For the -last-named book illustrates all the faults of its -species, as well as the cardinal sin against art. -<i>Mr. Britling Sees It Through</i> is religious; <i>The -Soul of a Bishop</i> is sectarian. And <i>God the -Invisible King</i>, while it should be read with -sympathy for its author's sincerity and newly-found -idealism, has all the arrogance and cock-sureness -of an old-fashioned theologian without -the preliminary years of devoted learning -that gave the old-fashioned one some right to -a hearing, provided of course he could induce -any one to listen to him. No orthodox evangelist -has ever been more sure of God than Mr. -Wells. The novel was properly named <i>Mr. -Britling Sees It Through</i>; and we might with -equal propriety name the treatise, <i>Mr. Britling -Sees Through It</i>.</p> - -<p>Strange and unfortunate that Mr. Wells -should think that the religious element in Mr.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> -Britling needed additional emphasis. A work -of art founded on eternal verities will accomplish -more for the cause of religion than any -tract. Solely from the moral point of view, -<i>Anna Karenina</i> is a more impressive book than -most of its author's subsequent exhortations.</p> - -<p><i>The Soul of a Bishop</i> is not a realistic novel, -for there is no real character in it. It is -already on its way to limbo, along with <i>Robert -Elsmere</i> and <i>The Inside of the Cup</i>. But it is -an excellent illustration of the fate that awaits -an artist when he sacrifices the truth of art for -the enforcement of personal opinion. There -was a time when the excitement over the question -of trades-unions produced by <i>Put Yourself -in His Place</i> was at fever heat; but that novel -today is almost forgotten, while <i>The Cloister -and the Hearth</i> will be read by generation after -generation, simply because it is a great story.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="p6"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2>III</h2></div> - - -<p>In order to illustrate what I mean by a -realistic novelist whose happiest effects are -gained by writing good stories with real -characters, I know of no better choice among -contemporaries than Archibald Marshall. He -is an artist of such dignity and refinement that -only twice in his career has he written a novel -that had for its main purpose something other -than truth to life; in each of these two attempts -the result was a failure.</p> - -<p>I know how difficult it is to "recommend" -novels to hungry readers, for I have written -prescriptions to alleviate many kinds of mental -trouble, yes, and physical ailments too; but how -can I be sure that the remedy will in every -"case" be effective? I know that <i>Treasure -Island</i> cured me of an attack of tonsillitis and -that <i>Queed</i> cured me of acute indigestion; a -United States naval officer informed me that -he recovered from jaundice simply by reading -<i>Pride and Prejudice</i>. These are facts; but -what assurance have I that other sufferers can -try these prescriptions with reasonable hope?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> -Yet I have no hesitancy in recommending -Archibald Marshall to any group of men or -women or to any individual of mature growth. -One scholar of sixty years of age told me that -these novels had given him a quite new zest -in life; and I myself, who came upon them on -one of the luckiest days of my existence, confidently -affirm the same judgment. Of the -numerous persons that I have induced to read -these books, I have met with only one sceptic; -this was a shrewd, sharp-minded woman of -eighty, who declared with a hearty laugh that -she found them insupportably tame. I understand -this hostility, for when girls reach the -age of eighty, they demand excitement.</p> - -<p>Those who are familiar with Mr. Marshall's -work and life will easily discover therein echoes -of his own experience. He is an Englishman -by birth and descent, familiar with both town -and country. He was born on the sixth of September, -1866, and received in his home life and -preliminary training plenty of material which -appeared later in the novels. His father came -from the city, like the father in <i>Abington -Abbey</i>; he himself was graduated from Trinity -College, Cambridge, like the son of <i>Peter -Binney</i>; it was intended but not destined that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> -he should follow his father's business career, -and he worked in a city office like the son of -Armitage Brown; he went to Australia like the -hero's sister in <i>Many Junes</i>; he made three -visits to America, but fortunately has not yet -written an American novel; he studied theology -with the intention of becoming a clergyman in -the Church of England, like so many young -men in his stories; in despair at finding a -publisher for his work, he became a publisher -himself, and issued his second novel, <i>The House -of Merrilees</i>, which had as much success as it -deserved; he tried journalism before and during -the war; he lived in two small Sussex -towns with literary associations, Winchelsea -and Rye, in the latter from 1908 to 1913; then -until 1917 his home was in Switzerland; he -has now gone back to the scene of his university -days, Cambridge.</p> - -<p>In 1902 he was married and lived for some -time in Beaulieu (pronounced Bewly) in the -New Forest, faithfully portrayed in <i>Exton -Manor</i>. He spent three happy years there -planning and making a garden, like the young -man in <i>The Old Order Changeth</i>. Although -his novels are filled with hunting and shooting, -he is not much of a sportsman himself, being<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> -content only to observe. He loves the atmosphere -of sport rather than sport. His favourite -recreations are walking, reading, painting, -and piano-playing, and the outdoor flavour -of his books may in part be accounted for by -the fact that much of his writing is done in the -open air.</p> - -<p>Like many another successful man of letters, -his first step was a false start; for in 1899 he -produced a novel called <i>Peter Binney, Undergraduate</i>, -which has never been republished in -America, and perhaps never will be. This is a -topsy-turvy book, where an ignorant father -insists on entering Cambridge with his son; -and after many weary months of coaching, succeeds -in getting his name on the books. The -son is a steady-headed, unassuming boy, immensely -popular with his mates; the father, -determined to recapture his lost youth, disgraces -his son and the college by riotous living, -and is finally expelled. The only good things in -the book are the excellent pictures of May Week -and some snap-shots at college customs; but the -object of the author is so evident and he has -twisted reality so harshly in order to accomplish -it, that we have merely a work of distortion.</p> - -<p>For six years our novelist remained silent;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> -and he never returned to the method of reversed -dynamics until the year 1915, when he -published <i>Upsidonia</i>, another failure. Once -again his purpose is all too clear; possibly irritated -by the exaltation of slum stories and -the depreciation of the characters of the well-to-do -often insisted upon in such works, he -wrote a satire in the manner of <i>Erewhon</i>, and -called it a novel. Here poverty and dirt are -regarded as the highest virtues, and the possession -of wealth looked upon as the sure and -swift road to social ostracism. There is not a -gleam of the author's true skill in this book, -mainly because he is so bent on arguing his -case that exaggeration triumphs rather too -grossly over verisimilitude. He is, of course, -trying to write nonsense; a mark that some -authors have hit with deliberate aim, while -perhaps more have attained the same result -with less conscious intention. Now Mr. -Marshall cannot write nonsense even when -he tries; and failure in such an effort is -particularly depressing. He is at his best -when his art is restrained and delicate; in -<i>Upsidonia</i> he drops the engraving-tool and -wields a meat-axe. Let us do with <i>Peter -Binney</i> and with <i>Upsidonia</i> what every other<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> -reader has done; let us try to forget them, -remembering only that two failures in fifteen -books is not a high proportion.</p> - -<p>Of the remaining thirteen novels, two attained -only a partial success; and the reason -is interesting. These two are <i>The House of -Merrilees</i> and <i>Many Junes</i> (1908). The former -was written in 1901 but publishers would -none of it, and it did not wear a print dress -until 1905. Meanwhile the author was trying -his hand at short stories, for which his method -of work is not particularly fitted, his skill -being in the development of character rather -than in the manufacture of incident. He did, -however, publish a collection of these tales in -one volume, called <i>The Terrors</i>, which appeared -in 1913, their previous separate publication -covering a period of sixteen years. They -are amazingly unequal in value; some are excellent, -and others trivial. This volume is out -of print, and whether any of the contents may -be rescued from oblivion is at present problematical. -It is interesting, however, that he, -at the outset of his career, supposed that invention, -rather than observation, was his trump -card. The realism of <i>The House of Merrilees</i> -is mixed with melodrama and mystery; these<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> -are, in the work of a dignified artist, dangerous -allies, greater liabilities than assets. In a personal -letter he confesses that this artificial plot -hampered him; but he goes on to say, "the -range of scene and character in that book is -something that I have never been able to catch -since." He has since—with only one relapse—happily -forsaken artificially constructed -mysteries for the deepest mystery of all—the -human heart. In <i>Many Junes</i>, a story -that will be reprinted in America in 1919, -we have pictures of English country life of -surpassing loveliness; we have an episode -as warm and as fleeting as June itself; we -have a faithful analysis of the soul of a strange -and solitary man, damned from his birth by -lack of decision. But the crisis in the tale is -brought about by an accident so improbable -that the reader refuses to believe it. The moment -our author forsakes reality he is lost; it -is as necessary for him to keep the truth as it -was for Samson to keep his hair. Furthermore, -this is the only one of Mr. Marshall's -books that has a tragic close—and his art cannot -flourish in tragedy, any more than a native -of the tropics can live in Lapland. The bleak -air of lost illusion and frustrated hope, in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> -which the foremost living novelist, appropriately -named, finds his soul's best climate, is -not favourable to Archibald Marshall.</p> - -<p>The "relapse" mentioned in the preceding -paragraph occurred in the year 1912, when he -published a long and wildly exciting novel, -called <i>The Mystery of Redmarsh Farm</i>. This -has all the marks of a "best-seller" and went -through several editions in England, though it -has not yet been reprinted in America. I regard -the writing of this book as the most dangerous -moment in Mr. Marshall's career, for -its immediate commercial success might easily -have tempted him to continue in the same vein, -and if he had, he would have sunk to the level -of a popular entertainer, and lost his position -among British novelists of the past and present. -Curiously enough, it came between two of his -best works in the Clinton series, <i>The Eldest -Son</i> (1911) and <i>The Honour of the Clintons</i> -(1913). Maybe the chilling reception given to -his finest stories drove him to a cheaper style -of composition. Maybe his long second visit -to Australia, where he saw and shared experiences -quite unlike his English environment, -made him try his hand at mystery and crime. -In 1911 he had published <i>Sunny Australia</i>, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> -result of a sojourn on that continent, whither -he had gone as special commissioner for the -<i>Daily Mail</i>. There is a good deal of superficial -cleverness in <i>The Mystery of Redmarsh Farm</i>; -its plot is elaborate, with a flavour of <i>Lohengrin</i>; -the beautiful lonely maiden's young -brother is stolen by a villain and rescued by -a young hero who is appropriately named -Knightly; a misunderstanding separates the -girl and her lover, who sails away to Australia. -Unlike Lohengrin, however, he returns, and all -is well. There is a conventional detective, and -a murder trial and a shipwreck and a recognition -scene—I kept looking back to the title page -to see if the author really was Archibald -Marshall. It is as though Joseph Conrad -should write like Marie Corelli. Yet although -some of the characters are unreal and the plot -artificial and the villain theatrical, the environment, -whether in England or in Australia, -is as accurately painted as in Mr. Marshall's -best stories. He will not write of places that -he has not seen. When the gypsies are found, -they are found in the New Forest; and any -one who reads this yarn immediately after -<i>Sunny Australia</i>, will see that these distant -scenes are correctly described.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="p6"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2>IV</h2></div> - - -<p>It was in the year 1906, and in the novel -<i>Richard Baldock</i>, that he revealed his -power. This book, which will make its first -American appearance in the autumn of 1918, -contains a story so absorbing that it is only in -the retrospect that one realizes the vitality of -its characters and the delicacy of its art. There -are no heroes and no villains. Every person -has the taint that we all inherited from Adam, -and every person has some reflection of the -grace of God. There is no one who does not say -something foolish or ill-considered; and there -is no one who does not say something wise. -In other words there are no types, like "heavies," -"juveniles," and "ingenues." As is the -case in nearly all the novels by its author, we -are constantly revising our opinions of the -characters; and we revise them, not because the -characters are untrue, but because we learn to -know them better. Human nature is consistent -only in its inconsistency. It is forever fluid -and dynamic; and although no individual has<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> -ever understood another, and least of all himself, -increasing knowledge helps to make us -certain of our uncertainty. No man will play -the part his friends have written for him. One -reason why Shakespeare was a first-rate and -Jonson a second-rate dramatist is because Jonson -created humours and Shakespeare created -individuals. Among all Shakespeare's personages, -Hamlet is the most interesting to readers -and the most baffling to commentators; because -the latter try to adjust him to a theory of -madness, weak will, or what not. Is not the -fact that he has never been understood by any -one and never will be, the strongest proof of -his reality? Some think he lacked backbone; -others insist he was all backbone; some think he -was mad; others that he only pretended to be -mad; while America's greatest Shakespearean -scholar said he was neither mad nor pretended -to be. A young gentleman of Hamlet's copious -temperament, placed as he was amid natural -and supernatural forces, might easily at times -seem to illustrate any one of the above appraisals. -Indeed I suppose the sanest and most -resolute among us seem at times to lack either -resolution or sanity or both.</p> - -<p>The more complex a character, the less de<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span>pendable -he is. And everybody has some -complexity. Even quiet Horatio, beloved of -Hamlet for his steady self-control, tried to -commit suicide.</p> - -<p>Every fine novel and every fine drama must -of course illustrate the law of causation—the -principle of sufficient reason. But characters -that run in grooves are not human. In <i>Richard -Baldock</i>, we have, as we so often have in the -work of Archibald Marshall, strife between -father and son—a kind of civil war. This war, -like many others, is begotten of misunderstanding. -There is not only the inevitable divergence -between the older and the younger generation, -there is the divergence between two -powerful individualities. We at first sympathize -wholly with the son. We say to ourselves -that if any man is foolish enough to sacrifice all -his joy in life to a narrow creed, why, after all, -that is his affair; it is only when he attempts -to impose this cheerless and barren austerity -on others, that we raise the flag of revolt. At -the deathbed of the young mother, one of the -most memorable scenes in our author's books, -we are quite certain that we shall never forgive -the inflexible bigot; this hatred for him is nourished -when he attempts to crush the son as he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> -did crush his wife. Yet, as the story develops, -and we see more deeply into the hearts of all -the characters, we understand how the chasm -between father and son is finally crossed. It is -crossed by the only durable bridge in the world—the -bridge of love, which beareth all things.</p> - -<p>Tolerance—when based not on indifference, -but on sympathy—is tolerant even of intolerance.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="p6"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2>V</h2></div> - - -<p>In 1907 appeared one of the most characteristic -of Mr. Marshall's novels, <i>Exton -Manor</i>, which he began to write the day -after he finished <i>Richard Baldock</i>. It was -naturally impossible for any well-read reviewer -to miss the likeness to Anthony Trollope. If -I believed in the transmigration of souls, I -should believe that Archibald Marshall was a -reincarnation of Trollope, and William De -Morgan a reincarnation of Dickens. In an -interesting preface written for the American -edition, Mr. Marshall manfully says that he has -not only tried to follow Anthony Trollope, "but -the whole body of English novelists of his date, -who introduced you to a large number of people, -and left you with the feeling that you knew -them all intimately, and would have found yourself -welcome in their society. That particular -note of intimacy seems to be lacking in the fiction -of the present day, and I should like to -have it back."</p> - -<p>This instantly raises the question of Victor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span>ianism, -to some a stumbling-block, to some foolishness. -For my part, if I did not believe that -the best Victorian fiction was superior to contemporary -work, I should not be so hearty an -admirer of Archibald Marshall. Indeed the -best Victorian novels surpass our best twentieth -century novels in the one respect where -we chiefly plume ourselves on our claim to -attention—I mean in the matter of sincerity. -We talk about sincerity all the time, but we -protest too much; the essence of sincerity is -present perhaps more often in art, as it is -in life, where its profession is least urgent. -Henry James, in the fragment of autobiography -called <i>The Middle Years</i>, wisely though -oracularly remarked, "Phenomena may be interesting, -thank goodness, without being phenomena -of elegant expression or of any other -form of restless smartness, and when once type -is strong, when once it plays up from deep -sources, every show of its sincerity delivers us -a message and we hang, to real suspense, on -its continuance of energy, on its again and yet -again consistently acquitting itself. So it keeps -in tune, and, as the French adage says, <i>c'est le -ton qui fait la chanson</i>. The mid-Victorian -London was sincere—that was a vast virtue and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> -a vast appeal; the contemporary is sceptical, -and most so when most plausible."</p> - -<p>On a summer day in 1914, I had the pleasure -of a ten-mile drive over the hills with one of -the wisest old men in America—Andrew D. -White. I remember his saying that one of -the most fortunate things that could happen -to America would be a general ambition on the -part of the more educated classes to look forward -as to a goal in life to making a permanent -home in the country. He said that in America -men who make a little money move into the city -as soon as possible; whereas in England, whenever -a man makes a competence in the city he -usually establishes a home in the country. No -one can read the novels of Mr. Marshall without -feeling that his books are so to speak based -on this ideal; he repeatedly insists that life in -the country is the true life for thoughtful men -and women, and that the most delectable season -for the solid enjoyment of it is the winter. -Nay, he takes the position—a position also occupied -by one of our ablest American novelists, -Dorothy Canfield—that the most favourable locality -for studying human nature is the small -country village. He says, "Life in such a community -as is depicted in <i>Exton Manor</i> is just<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> -as typical of English social habits as it was in -Trollope's day. The tendency of those who -have hitherto worked on the land to drift into -the towns is not shared by the more leisured -classes. Their tendency is all the other way—to -forsake the towns for the country—and improved -methods of communication keep them -more in touch with the world than they would -have been fifty years ago. But in spite of this -increased dependency upon the outside world, -English country life is still intensely local in -its personal interests, and quite legitimately so, -for it must be remembered that, if the man who -lives in a fairly populous country village comes -across fewer people than the man who lives -in a town, he knows all about those whom he -does come across, and his acquaintances represent -a far greater variety of type and class -than is met with where types and classes tend -to stratify. You have, in fact, in a typical -country parish, a microcosm of English social -life, and there is, ready to the hand of the realistic -novelist, material from which he can draw -as much interest and variety as he is able to -make use of."</p> - -<p>In another important question which concerns -the art of the novelist, I might applaud<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> -Mr. Marshall's dictum more unreservedly if I -did not happen to know of a gigantic witness -against him. In forestalling gossipy identification -of his leading characters in <i>Exton Manor</i>, -he says, "It is not a novelist's business to draw -portraits, but to create living figures, and the -nearer he gets to the first the farther off will -he be from the second." This certainly sounds -well; but unfortunately for its universal application, -practically all of the characters in <i>Anna -Karenina</i> are accurate portraits.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="p6"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2>VI</h2></div> - - -<p>To all those who have not yet read a single -work by our author, I would counsel them -to begin with <i>The Squire's Daughter</i>, and -then take up—with particular care to preserve -the correct sequence—<i>The Eldest Son</i>, <i>The -Honour of the Clintons</i>, <i>The Old Order Changeth</i> -[English title, <i>Rank and Riches</i>]. These -four stories deal with the family and family -affairs of the Clintons, and together with a -separate book, <i>The Greatest of These</i> [English -title, <i>Roding Rectory</i>], belong to Mr. Marshall's -best period, the years from 1909 to 1915. -When I say the best period, I mean the most -fruitful up to the present moment in 1918. He -is in the prime of life, and it is to be hoped -that he may yet surpass himself; but since 1915, -perhaps owing to the obsession of the war, he -has not done so. <i>Watermeads</i> (1916) is a -charming story, and in <i>Abington Abbey</i> (1917), -and its sequel, <i>The Graftons</i> (1918), he has introduced -us to another interesting family; but -neither of these books reaches the level main<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span>tained -by the Clinton tetralogy, nor penetrates -so deeply into the springs of life and conduct -as his most powerful work, <i>The Greatest of -These</i>.</p> - -<p>Mr. Marshall began <i>The Squire's Daughter</i> -as a long "short story," starting with what is -now Chapter XII, <i>Food and Raiment</i>. He fell -in love with his characters, as many a novelist -has done, and expanded the narrative. Then -he wrote <i>The Eldest Son</i>, which is the best of -the four books. Yet it was not a success in -England, and at present both <i>The Squire's -Daughter</i> and <i>The Eldest Son</i> are out of print -in their home country; they are, however, having -a daily-increasing circulation in America, -which is bound to resurrect them in Great Britain. -For that matter most of Mr. Marshall's -novels are more widely known and certainly -more appreciated in the United States than in -the land of their nativity. In <i>The Honour of -the Clintons</i>, the author's intention was to -"take up the old Squire, see what all his generations -of gentility and honour, and all his -conviction that he is of superior clay, amount -to when he is touched with personal disgrace." -He discovered, as Dickens must have discovered -in writing the <i>Pickwick Papers</i>, that his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> -hero turned out rather better than he thought -he would. This third book in the series was -written under inspiration, completed in six -weeks, and at the time came almost as near -satisfying the author as it always has satisfied -me. But a friend, with true English candour, -said to him, "All the ingredients of the cake are -there, but the cake hasn't risen." Anyhow, -the Squire rose, whether the cake did or not.</p> - -<p>The final novel in the Clinton family, <i>The Old -Order Changeth</i>, shows the effect produced on -both Rank and Riches by the Great War. Mr. -Marshall began this story with many misgivings, -and it is still not one of his favourites, -chiefly because "there are so many beastly -people in it." But so long as I live it will hold -a secure place in my heart, for this is the first -work of the author's that I saw. Indeed I had -never heard of him until I picked up <i>The Old -Order Changeth</i>. I started to read it with no -conception of the keen delight in store; after -finishing it, I wrote to the publishers, "Who on -earth is Archibald Marshall? There is no one -like him in the world. Send me everything he -has written." Since that moment of exaltation, -I have read and reread the Clinton books, and -each time they seem better.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span></p> - -<p>To read the Clinton stories is to be a welcome -guest in a noble old English country house, to -meet and to associate on terms of happy intimacy -with delightful, well-bred, clear-minded -men and women; to share the outdoor life of -healthful sport, and the pleasant conversation -around the open fire; to sharpen one's observation -of natural scenery in summer and in -winter, and in this way to make a permanent -addition to one's mental resources; to learn the -significance of good manners, tact, modesty, -kindly consideration, purity of heart—not by -wearisome precepts, but by their flower and -fruit in human action. To read these books -is not to dodge life, it is to have it more abundantly.</p> - -<p>If, as Bacon said, a man dies as often as he -loses his friends, then he gains vitality by every -additional friendship. To know the Clinton -family and their acquaintances is not merely to -be let into the inner circle of English country -life, to discover for ourselves exactly what sort -of people English country folk are, to understand -what family tradition and ownership of -the land mean to them—it is to enlarge our own -range of experience and to increase our own -stock of genuine happiness, by adding to our<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> -mental life true friends—and friends that are -always available. For often the friends of flesh -and blood cannot be reached when we need them -most; perhaps they are asleep, or away on a -journey; but the staunch old friends introduced -to us by novelists never deny themselves. Is -not this a fairly good reason why, among all -the novels we read, some at all events should be -selected for the immanent charm of their characters? -I know how uncritical it is to admire -any work of art that possesses the element of -cheerfulness; but suppose our reading of novels -were entirely confined to the works of Maxim -Gorki?</p> - -<p>Why should we always select acquaintances -in fiction that we always avoid in real life? Is -it the same instinct that makes so many persons -love to go slumming?</p> - -<p>There is perhaps rather too strong a flavour -of tea in these stories, but that no doubt is a -legitimate part of their realism. The sacred -rite of afternoon tea plays fully as big a part -in English fiction as it plays in English life. -Tea—which would be an intolerable interruption -to business or to golf among normal Americans—is -never superfluous to the British. -Among the hundreds of English novels that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> -you have read, can you recall a single instance -where any character <i>declined</i> a cup of tea? -And, in terrible crises or trivial vexations, is -not the following exclamation familiar—"I -am dying for my tea!" I sometimes think -that if the house should be destroyed by fire -at three o'clock, half-past four would find the -family taking tea on the lawn. I remember, on -a voyage to Alaska, a vigorous old English -woman who appeared on deck every day between -four and five, and when she saw the circulation -of the china, a look of holy rapture -dawned in her eyes, and from her lips came -an ecstatic cry, "Ah, is there tea going?" -It must be wonderful to love anything on -earth so much as the English love their -tea.</p> - -<p>Two months after writing the above paragraph, -I received testimony which delightfully -supports the view expressed. An Englishman -informs me, that after the big sea-fight of Jutland, -he had the privilege of conversing with an -English blue-jacket who was perched aloft during -the whole of that terrific experience. There -he remained under orders, in the thick of the -battle, with the bolts of death flying all about -him. On being asked how he felt, the young<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> -man exclaimed with a tone of regret, "Well, of -course, I had to miss my tea."</p> - -<p>Not since Fielding's Squire Western has -there been a more vivid English country squire -than Mr. Marshall's Squire Clinton. The difference -between them is the difference between -the eighteenth and the twentieth centuries. He -is the man of the house, the head of the family, -and it is not until we have read all four of the -stories that we can obtain a complete view of -his character. He is a living, breathing man, -and we see the expression on his face, and hear -the tones of his voice, which his daughters imitate -so irresistibly. With all his pride and -prejudice, with all his childish irritableness, he -is the idol of the household. His skull is as -thick as English oak, but he has a heart of -gold. He is stupid, but never contemptible. -And when the war with Germany breaks out -in 1914, he rises to a magnificent climax in the -altercation with Armitage Brown. We hear in -his torrent of angry eloquence not merely the -voice of one man, but the combined voices of all -the generations that have developed him.</p> - -<p>Yet while Mr. Marshall has made an outstanding -and unforgettable figure of the fox-hunting -Squire, it is in the portrayal of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> -women of the family that he shows his most -delicate art. This is possibly because his skill -as an artist is reinforced by profound sympathy. -The Squire is so obtuse that it has -never dawned upon his mind that his wife is -a thousand times cleverer than he, or that her -daily repression has in it anything savouring -of tragedy. In the third book, <i>The Honour of -the Clintons</i>, intense and prolonged suffering -begins to sharpen his dull sight; and the scenes -between the old pair are unspeakably tender -and beautiful. Mr. Marshall never preaches, -never tries to adorn the tale by pointing a -moral. But the wild escapade of the daughter -in the first of these stories, and the insistence -of the mother on a superior education for the -twins exhibit more clearly than any letter to -the <i>Times</i> could do, what the author thinks -about the difference between the position -women have held in English country homes -and the position they ought to have.</p> - -<p>Of all his characters, perhaps those that the -reader will remember with the highest flood of -happy recollection are the twins, Joan and -Nancy. In the first novel, this wonderful pair -are aged thirteen; in the second, they are fifteen; -in the third, they are twenty-one. Mr.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> -Marshall is particularly skilful in the drawing -of young girls; and after one has read <i>Ann -Veronica</i>, I can think of no better antidote -than these Clinton books. Whatever may be -woman's place in the future, whatever she may -drink or smoke or wear or say or do, there -is one kind of girl that can never become unattractive; -and the Clinton twins illustrate that -kind. They are healthy, modest, quick-witted, -affectionate, high-spirited; when they come in -laughing and glowing from a game of tennis, -and take their places at the family tea-table, -they bring the breath of life into the room.</p> - -<p>In <i>The Eldest Son</i>, which of the four delightful -books dealing with the Clinton family, I -find most delightful, there is a suggestion of -the author's attitude toward humanity in the -procession of candidates for governess that -passes before the penetrating eyes of Mrs. -Clinton. Her love for the old Starling—one of -the most original of Mr. Marshall's creations—has -not blinded Mrs. Clinton to the latter's -incompetence for the task of training so alert a -pair as the twins. Of the women who present -themselves for this difficult position, not one is -wholly desirable; and it is plain that Mrs. Clinton -knows in advance that this will be the case.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> -She is not looking for an ideal teacher, for such -curiosities are not to be found on our planet; -the main requisite is brains, and she selects -finally the candidate whom many society women -would immediately dismiss as impossible, the -uncompromising, hard-headed, sexless Miss -Phipps, who has about as much amenity as a -steamroller. Miss Phipps bristles with faults; -but they are the faults that spring from excess -of energy, from a devotion to scholarship so -exclusive that the minor graces and minor -pleasures of life have received in her daily -scheme even less than their due. But the twins -already possess everything lacking in the composition -of their teacher; what they need is -not a sweet, sympathetic companion, what they -need is what nearly every one needs, mental -discipline, mental training, and an increase in -knowledge and ideas. In this dress-parade of -candidates we have a miniature parade of -humanity in the large; no one is faultless; but -those who have an honest mind and an honest -character have something essential. And who -knows but what the shrewd and deep-hearted -Mrs. Clinton did not also see that in the association -of this mirthless expert with two young -incarnations of vitality and vivacity, both par<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span>ties -to the contract might learn something of -value? Miss Phipps is about to discover that -the country-side in winter has resources entirely -unguessed at by her bookish soul; that -there are many of her countrymen and country-women -who find in outdoor sport a secret of -health and happiness.</p> - - - -<p class="i2 p2">Her bedroom was in the front of the house, and she -had heard, without much heeding them, the wheels and -the beat of horse-hoofs and the voices outside. Now she -began to be a little curious as to what was going on, and -rose and drew up her blind and looked out.</p> - -<p class="i2">The scene was quite new to her, and in spite of herself -she exclaimed at it. Immediately beyond the wide -gravel sweep in front of the house was the grass of the -park, where the whole brave show of the South Meadshire -Hunt was collected. It is doubtful if she had ever -seen a pack of hounds in her life, and she watched them -as if fascinated. Presently, at some signal which she -had not discerned, the huntsman and the whips turned -and trotted off with them, and behind them streamed all -the horsemen and horsewomen, the carriages and carts, -and the people on foot, until the whole scene which had -been so full of life and colour was entirely empty of all -human occupation, and there was only the damp grass -of the park and the big bare trees under the pearly grey -of the winter sky. She saw the Squire ride off on his -powerful horse, and admired his sturdy erect carriage, -and she saw Dick and Virginia, side by side, Humphrey, -the pink of sartorial hunting perfection, Mrs. Clinton -in her carriage, with Miss Dexter by her side and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> -twins opposite to her, and for a moment wished she had -accepted her invitation to make one of the party, -although she did not in the least understand where they -were going to, or what they were going to do when they -got there. All this concourse of apparently well-to-do -and completely leisured people going seriously about a -business so remote from any of the interests in life that -she had known struck her as entirely strange and inexplicable. -She might have been in the midst of some odd -rites in an unexplored land. The very look of the -country in its winter dress was strange to her, for she -was a lifelong Londoner and the country to her only -meant a place where one spent summer holidays.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="p6"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2>VII</h2></div> - - -<p>The novel <i>Watermeads</i> (1916), particularly -welcome to me because the friend -who wore a grotesque mask in <i>Upsidonia</i> -showed his healthy, agreeable, English face -again, opens characteristically with the entire -family gathered around the tea-table in a sunlit -room in an old manor house. This story is -mainly concerned with the waxing and waning -of a marriage-engagement; the rich fiancée -seems well enough among her own people and -in her own environment; her lack of breeding -appears with steadily increasing emphasis when -she is brought into the circle of the squire's -household. The restraint shown by Mr. Marshall -in contrasting her with the people among -whom she is expected to live is worthy of the -highest praise. There is nothing exaggerated, -not a trace of burlesque; little touches, shades -of speech and conduct, the expression at the -corners of the girl's mouth when she is displeased -or unsatisfied, all combine to lower the -temperature in her lover's heart. Nor is there -anything snobbish in this increasing coldness.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> -No matter how important may be a difference -in manners or social breeding, love could make -a happy fusion; it is, however, not in one act -of villainy, but in many trifles light as air that -the young woman is finally, even to the myopic -eyes of passion, revealed as wholly selfish.</p> - -<p>Two accidents—youth and cash—give to this -girl an assurance that finally makes her odious; -but women who have neither can be equally offensive. -Her prospective mother-in-law, the -squire's wife, parades the decline in the family's -finances so obtrusively that she becomes -as tiresome as a flapping curtain. When Lord -Kirby is shown by her through the ancestral -home, he escapes with a sense of enormous relief, -saying to his wife, "That's an awful -woman. You hear about people being purse-proud, -but she seems to be empty-purse-proud, -and I don't know that that isn't worse. If -people are as hard up as that they ought to -hide it."</p> - -<p>In <i>Abington Abbey</i> (1917) and <i>The Graftons</i> -(1918) we have really one book, and the last -page of the sequel makes me hope that the history -of this charming family may be continued—I -don't care through how many volumes. -Mr. Grafton is a gentleman, and the way in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> -which he settles the various problems of family -discipline and the affairs of the estate springs -from his unerring good sense. His daughters -adore their widower-father, but each in her own -manner. And though they are all attractive, I -know which one I like the best.</p> - -<p>Mr. Marshall published with <i>The Graftons</i> an -exceedingly interesting Introduction, containing -a defense of his methods which is not -needed by intelligent readers, but which may -enlighten those who do not understand what -he is about. In a personal letter, however, he -expressed himself in words that I like better -than his printed apologia. "The Grafton family -isn't so rich in varied interest as the Clinton -family, but I hope they will make their friends. -I think they are as 'nice' a family as any I've -drawn. I set out simply to show them in their -country home, and make their country neighbours -display themselves in the light of their -critical humour, without much idea of a story. -It turned into something rather different, and -I'm not quite sure about it yet. And it has -taken two books to work it out."</p> - -<p>Now the reason why I like this ink-epistle -better than the formal preface is because in -the latter Mr. Marshall seemed to think it nec<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span>essary -to reply to those critics who said he -ought to discuss in his novels the economic -questions concerned with the tenure of the -land. If he should by some evil temptation -make economic questions the basis of his stories -of English country life, he would commit the -cardinal sin that has corrupted so much of contemporary -fiction, the sin that I condemned at -the outset of this essay. The most conspicuous -element in his art is Charm. If some one -should persuade him that he ought to become -more "serious," his novels would lose their -atmosphere; and he might find himself writing -like that earnest student of modern movements, -Mrs. Humphry Ward.</p> - -<p>I am aware that the most insulting epithet -that can be applied to a book, or a play, or a -human being is the word "Puritan"; and I -remember reading a review somewhere of -<i>Abington Abbey</i> which commented rather satirically -on the interview between Grafton and -Lassigny, and most satirically of all on the conclusion -of the interview, which left the stiff, -prejudiced, puritanical British parent in possession -of the field. But once more, Mr. Marshall -is not trying to prove a thesis; he is -representing the Englishman and the French<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span>man -in a hot debate, where neither is right -and neither is wrong, but where each is partly -right and partly wrong. Each says in the heat -of the contest something injudicious, even as -men do when they are angry. But when Lassigny -literally takes French leave, we do not -care who has scored the most points; the real -winner is the one who is not present—the girl -herself. For when two men fight about a -woman, as they do somewhere every day, the -truly important question is not, which man -wins the fight? The only real question is, -does the woman win?</p> - -<p>It will never do to make generalizations from -merely one of Mr. Marshall's novels. If we -had only <i>Abington Abbey</i>, we might imagine -that he detested the clergy, for the clergyman -in this book is surely detestable; but in <i>The -Greatest of These</i> there are two clergymen who -are admirable characters, and a third who is by -no means wholly or even mainly evil. Like an -honest student of life, Mr. Marshall never considers -a man as a representative of a business, -but as a human being. No man is good because -he is a clergyman; but it would be well perhaps -if every member of that highest of all professions -were a clergyman because he was good.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="p6"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2>VIII</h2></div> - - -<p>There is an unconscious double meaning -in the American name given to the novel -published in 1914, <i>The Greatest of These</i>, -for it can be taken not only in the Pauline significance, -but as the greatest of these books we -are considering. It is the most ambitious and -on the whole the most effective of its author's -productions, containing also the essence of -his religion—charity contrasted with opinions. -We have an illustration of his favourite method -of portraying the shade and shine of human -character by placing in opposition two leading -representatives of two large classes of nominal -Christians—a clergyman of the Church of England -and a minister of the Dissenters. Mr. -Marshall never wrote a better first chapter. -The reader is instantly aware that he has in his -hands a masterpiece. Every leading character -is introduced in the opening chapter either in -person or in allusive conversation, and we know -that Mr. Marshall has what most novelists seek -in vain—a real plot. This book, which eventually -rises to the highest spiritual altitude at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span>tained -thus far by its author, begins on a note -of sordid sex-tragedy, as unusual in the stories -of Mr. Marshall as a picture like the Price -household is in the work of Jane Austen; here -it serves to bring forward the forthright and -self-satisfied Anglican, who little dreams of -his approaching humiliation; he is brought into -conflict with a kind of Zeal-of-the-land Busy, -whose aggressive self-righteousness is to be -softened by the very man who he hoped would -harden it. Here too, as in <i>Exton Manor</i>, we -come as near as we ever come in Mr. Marshall's -books to meeting a villain—in each case it is a -woman with a serpent's tongue.</p> - -<p>The time-element in <i>The Greatest of These</i> is -managed with consummate skill. So far as -the novel has a hero, it is the Rev. Dr. Merrow. -He does not appear in Roding until the one-hundred-and-sixty-third -page, but there is so -much talk, for and against him, that the reader -awaits his arrival at the railway station with -fully as much eagerness as any of the village -gossips. And then, owing to the Doctor's -fatigue from the journey, the reader is as -baffled as the parishioners. It is quite impossible -to discover what manner of man he is. -The author refuses to help us, preferring to let<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> -his leading character reveal himself without -any manipulation behind the scenes. This -revelation is gradual, made up of many little -details of speech and behaviour, as it would be -in real life.</p> - -<p>But although the personality of the man is -not clear until more than half of the book has -passed, the ninth chapter, which shows him in -action in London as a public institution, is one -of the most powerful pieces of prose Mr. Marshall -has ever composed. He writes as if inspired -by the theme. Not only is it a magnificent -description of a great occasion, its dramatic -power is immensely heightened because -we see it through the eyes of a young ritualist, -to whom it is as strange—and at first as repellent—as -some vulgar heathen observance. But -gradually distaste changes to interest, and interest -to enthusiasm. Such passages as the -following are entirely unlike the ordinary current -of Mr. Marshall's style, but it is a proof -that he can reach the heights when the occasion -calls.</p> - - -<p class="p2 i2">There came more of these sentences. The spark had -caught; the furnace was beginning to glow. George -gazed at the preacher with his own face alight. His -surroundings were forgotten.... If this was the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> -kind of preaching that had brought Dr. Merrow his -great reputation, then he understood its appeal, and -was himself moved by it. It came from something beyond -creeds, far beyond differences in methods of worship. -It had been heard in all ages of the Church, -amidst the splendours of mediæval superstition, as in -the crude barrenness of modern revivalism. The spirit -moved on the face of the waters; the stagnancy of mere -words was broken; there was life and healing in them.</p> - -<p class="i2">The words came faster. The voice grew stronger, and -took on a different tone, as if on an organ a touch of -reed had been added to diapason. The slightly bent -figure became straighter, the worn face younger. The -preacher began to use his hands—thin, flexible, nervous -hands, which seemed to clutch at deep truths, and -fling them out for the world to take hold of. Soon the -burning words came in a torrent, as of a rushing mass -of water of irresistible force, yet bound within its directing -channel. Every now and then they sank to a -deep calm, but were still infused with the same concentrative -power. Such words had stirred men's minds -and souls in long past ages. Spoken on bare hillsides -underneath the symbol of faith, they had converted -kingdoms. Flung forth over throngs of rough fighting -men, they had turned bloodshed and rapine into -righteous crusades. Their power was older than that -of Christianity itself. In the dim ages of religious -history it had singled out Aaron for the priesthood, and -put him above Moses, the warrior leader. Later, it had -burst the bonds of the priesthood itself, and winged the -utterances of great prophets.</p> - -<p class="p2">Every page that we turn in this extraordinary -book lessens the distance not only in time<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> -but in sympathy between the Rector and -the Pastor. The orthodox evangelical chapel -orator is drawn with just the insight one -would superficially <i>not</i> expect from a man of -Mr. Marshall's birth, breeding, and environment. -He is certainly the author's finest -achievement, even finer than Squire Clinton, -for he is more difficult to draw. The Rev. Dr. -Merrow must be added to Chaucer's Poore Persoun -and to Goldsmith's Village Preacher as -one more permanent clerical figure in imaginative -literature.</p> - -<p>Lesser personages in this story are given -with the same care in detail, until we feel their -presence as personal friends. The curate, the -Rev. George Barton, so completely misunderstood -by Mrs. Merrow, is an almost flawless portrait. -His healthy, athletic outdoor nature and -the development of his inner life are both presented -with subtle, delicate strokes of the pen -possible only to an artist of distinction.</p> - -<p>It is interesting to contemplate side by side -in the reader's mind the wife of the Rector and -the wife of the Pastor. Both are good women—their -only similarity. Lady Ruth, a born -aristocrat, with a "temperamental inability to -comport herself as the busy wife of a busy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> -clergyman" is one of the most gracious and -lovely figures created by our novelist, which -means that her charm is irresistible. The less -admirable, but more energetic wife of Dr. Merrow -is so perfect a representative of the busy -city pastor's helpmate that we can only wonder -how it is possible to put on paper any creation -so real. There is not a false touch in this picture. -William Allingham wrote in his diary -after reading one of Browning's poems, -"Bravo, Browning!" Upon finishing <i>The -Greatest of These</i>, which I confidently call a -great novel, I could hardly refrain from a -shout of applause.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="p6"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2>IX</h2></div> - - -<p>Mr. Marshall is a twentieth century -novelist, because he is happily yet alive, -and because he writes of twentieth century -scenes and characters; but he is apart -from the main currents of twentieth century -fiction, standing indeed in the midst of -the stream like a commemorative pillar to Victorian -art. He has never written historical romance, -which dominated the novel at the beginning -of our century; he has never written the -"life" novel—beginning with the hero's birth -and travelling with plotless chronology, the -type most in favour since the year 1906; he has -never written a treatise and called it a novel, -as so many of his contemporaries have done. -Every one of his novels, except the two unfortunate -burlesques, is a good story, with a good -plot and living characters; and he has chosen -to write about well-bred people, because those -are the people he knows best.</p> - -<p>It is also well to remember, that although -his best novels are parochial, he himself is a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> -citizen of the world. He has seen the North -Cape, he has lived in the Australian bush, in -various European cities, and has traveled extensively -in America. One reason why he can -describe English country life so clearly is because -he sees it in the proper perspective. He -is at home in any community on earth.</p> - -<p>I call him a realistic novelist, because his -realism is of the highest and most convincing -kind—it constantly reminds us of reality. I -cannot see why a well-constructed story, that -deals mainly with attractive men and women, -and ends on a note of robust cheerfulness, -should have any less right to the adjective -"realistic" than an ill-arranged transcript of -the existence of creatures living amongst poverty, -filth, and crime. And so far as Mr. Marshall's -Victorian reticence on questions of sex -is concerned, this strengthens his right to the -title Realist. As Henry James said, the moment -you insist that animalism must have its -place in works of art, there almost always -seems to be no place for anything else. If a -novelist is to represent real life, he must make -subordinate and incidental what in some -novels dominates every page. If a writer is -to describe events as they really happen, to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> -portray men and women as they really are, to -create living characters that can be recognized -in modern society, he ought to emphasize in -his art what life itself emphasizes—the difference -between man and the lower animals. The -curious thing is that in many so-called realistic -novels it is impossible to distinguish between -human beings and the beasts of the field; the -well-understood likeness is stressed so heavily -that not only the individual, but even the type -is lost. One can hardly call so total an absence -of discrimination true art. Even the most elementary -man or woman is less elementary than -a beast; and is it not true that the greater the -complexity, the greater the skill required to -report it truly?</p> - -<p>And here is a strange thing. It is only in -stories of human beings that our would-be -realists insist that animalism should be most -frankly and most minutely portrayed. When -we come to dog-stories—of which there are -many—the element of sex is as a rule wholly -omitted. Yet surely this is more salient in the -life of a dog than in the life of a man.</p> - -<p>Archibald Marshall is a realist. He represents -cultivated men and women as we saw -them yesterday, and as we shall see them to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span>morrow. -He seldom disappoints us, for among -all living novelists, whilst he is not the greatest, -he is the most reliable. It is difficult to analyse -the extraordinary charm of his stories, for they -are simpler than simplicity. He takes us literally -into the bosom of a family, where each -member has a distinct individuality, and the -novel progresses like beautiful voices with -orchestral accompaniment—each individual in -turn singing an air, while the family fortunes -supply the harmony. To read his books is to -associate with people whom it is highly important -to know—not because of their social -standing, but because of their solid worth. His -good characters are fundamentally good. They -are seldom brilliant, and almost never reformers. -They are more altruistic than philanthropic. -They possess the fine old virtues -of purity, wholesomeness, generosity, loving-kindness, -honesty, loyalty, tact, consideration; -such persons are always lovable in life, which -is why they are lovable in these books. His -heroes are not saviours of society, they are -simply good companions, be the weather fair -or foul; and we are never sickened by the diaphanous -veneer of sentimentality. His villains -seldom break the law of the land, and do not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span> -reek of melodrama. They are inconsiderate, -garrulous, inopportune, stupid, meddling, officiously -helpful, which is sometimes worse than -deliberate hostility. Mrs. Prentice in <i>Exton -Manor</i> is his most offensive specimen, and according -to the wisdom of the Book of Proverbs, -she is one of the four things for which the earth -is disquieted—"an odious woman when she is -married." These respectable villains, who -often cause more suffering than professional -criminals, receive the punishment of unpopularity. -But in most of his characters the elements -are more kindly mixed. We have on -every page the delight of recognition—the figures -are so perfectly drawn that we are under -the illusion that they are alive.</p> - -<p>Although these stories are never explicitly -didactic, they are ethically as well as artistically -true. Beneath the surface of light conversation -and trivial incident we find an idea -that works for righteousness. This idea is so -variously and so frequently illustrated that I -think it must be the foundation of the author's -philosophy of life and conduct. He would have -us believe that different individuals, different -social classes, different communities dislike and -distrust each other mainly through ignorance.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> -He would not say in the old phrase, to understand -is to forgive, he would say something -without any taint of condescension, something -finer and more fruitful—to understand is to -respect, to admire, to love. The inefficient aristocrat -and the pushing millionaire despise each -other, the haughty Churchman and the pious -Dissenter distrust each other's motives until -they are brought by the force of circumstances -into an unescapable daily intimacy; the result -of which to both is surprising and agreeable. -Apparently what we all need is more imagination, -more intelligence. These novels make -a combined attack on the last infirmity of both -noble and ignoble minds, that last citadel of -stupidity—Prejudice.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="p6"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2>BIBLIOGRAPHY</h2></div> - - -<table border="0" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="5" summary="bibliography"> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> </td><td class="center">English<br />publication</td> -<td class="center">American</td></tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Peter Binney, Undergraduate</td><td class="center">1899</td><td class="center">. . . .</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">The House of Merrilees</td><td class="center">1905</td><td class="center">1905</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Richard Baldock</td><td class="center">1906</td><td class="center">1918</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Exton Manor</td><td class="center">1907</td><td class="center">1908</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Many Junes</td><td class="center">1908</td><td class="center">1919</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">The Squire's Daughter</td><td class="center">1909</td><td class="center">1912</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">The Eldest Son</td><td class="center">1911</td><td class="center">1911</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Sunny Australia (<i>sketches of travel</i>)</td><td class="center">1911</td><td class="center">. . . .</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">The Mystery of Redmarsh Farm</td><td class="center">1912</td><td class="center">. . . .</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">The Honour of the Clintons</td><td class="center">1913</td><td class="center">1913</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">The Terrors (<i>short stories</i>)</td><td class="center">1913</td><td class="center">. . . .</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">The Greatest of These (Roding Rectory)</td><td class="center">1914</td><td class="center">1914</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">The Old Order Changeth (Rank and Riches)</td><td class="center">1915</td><td class="center">1915</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Upsidonia</td><td class="center">1915</td><td class="center">1917</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Watermeads</td><td class="center">1916</td><td class="center">1916</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Abington Abbey</td><td class="center">1917</td><td class="center">1917</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">The Graftons</td><td class="center">1918</td><td class="center">1918</td></tr> -</table> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Archibald Marshall, a Realistic -Novelist, by William Lyon Phelps - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ARCHIBALD MARSHALL *** - -***** This file should be named 60686-h.htm or 60686-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/0/6/8/60686/ - -Produced by Carlos Colon, the University of Toronto and -the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images -generously made available by The Internet Archive/Canadian -Libraries) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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