THE HESPERIAN.
a
v.ulout subdivisions nrc not usually studied in their relations
to each other, and the impression which such a treatment of
any branch leaves upon the student's mind is necessarily
vague, disjointed and unsystematic. A review and examina
tion, if thorough, will correct this impression and will enable
the student to classify the facts which he has learned,
and to obtain a connected view of the whole subject.
Again, in pursuing any study for the first time there arc
always points which are but imperfectly understood even by
the most thorough students. A review will'gcncrally succeed
in clearing up these obs'cure places because of the additional
knowledgi of the branch which the student has gained by go
ing over it once. Lastly, the reviews and examinations help
to fix subjects in the mind. Those who are troubled with
treacherous memories, and that includes most of us, need
some such assistance. It is often the case that these exercises
arc the very means of so impressing some particular idea that
it shall rennin the permanent possession of the mind. In
short, reviews and examinations arc an essential part of the
term's work, and a student can no more afford to slight them
than an artist can afford to neglect the finishing touches for
his work.
WANTED A NOVELIST.
I believe that in its mission to mankind of awakening bet.
ter thoughts and urging better deeds American Literature has
today its most effective weapon in the Novel. I believe the
power of that novel lies chiefly among the middle and lower
classes of the American people. And that judged by this
standard we have today no author who can claim a place of
honor among the great novelists.
Since it behooves every person who may formulate a liter
ary creed to be able to give a substantial reason for the faith
that is in him, allow me to present those reflections which led
me to the opinions expressed at'thc beginning of this article.
A good novel is to a sound essay what an experiment is to
a lecture, what a life of charity and heroism is to a sermon
bristling with doctrine and controversy. Its primary objec
is neither to give information nor to furnish amusement. It is
to set before the reader's mental vision a picture of life, witn
its lights and shadows so arranged that one is forced to love
virtue and hate wickedness and that as the book is laid down
the strong arising of an earnest resolve to do that particular
duty which lies nearest shall fire the heart. And just in the
degree with which practice surpasses preaching, with which
example rises above precept, with which an earnest deed ex
cels an unexecuted thought, is the novel superior to the treat
ise, the essay, or the didactic poem.
The uncultured mind is the one upon which these life pic
tures make the deepest impression. To it no fault in style,
no failure in perspective dims the vividness of outline or
makes disagreeable the hand that points to Duty's path. From
such minds come also thegrcatest results. Action comes
mostly from the uncultured who think not, because the cultur
ed who think have no' time for action. And so one picture
of a practical good action set plainly before a rude active
mind is better than ten such descriptions received by one
with cultivated tastes and truined reasoning powers, who
halts to criticise and amend and perchance to admire till the
time for action is past.
Yet, this class of readers are handed over ip their youth to
the tender mercies of the Nickel Library and Saturday Night.
If ever they grow out of the taste for this sort of leading
their only alternative is the works of Scott or Dickens who
with all their local coloring have yet drawn the lineaments of
our common human nature with such clear outline that the
passing years and the broad Atlantic cannot wholly dim them.
It is not so with the litcraurc of the cultured and the wealthy.
The poet, the statesman, the physician, the man of fashion,
have every detail of their life pointed out beforehand, every
dangerous point on their course marked, "every wild dream
or morbid thought recorded and explained and exposed in
their books. It is only the great multitude who do the world's
work, while others dream its dreams, who make its fields
green and its harbors sure, who build its cities and lay broad
and deep the foundations of its palaces, it is only these who
must walk on this dark path from the cradle to the grave with
no light save that, worse than none, cast by those will-o'-the-wisps
of literature, the "penny dreadfuls of America. To my
mind it but shows the more strongly the superior power of ac
tion of these men that such a vast majority of them arrive so
safely at their journey's end.
Oh then for a man who has lived with the people, who has
eaten their dry crust and sung their simple songs, who has
warmed with their humble joys and thrilled with the anguish
of their hard struggle for existence. Who shall weave the
things which he has seen and felt into a tale which shall excel
in interest as why should it not, the shallow absurdities
of the Ledger or the dime novel? Who can clothe it in lan
guage which every wayfaring man, tho' he be a fool can un
derstand? This man's work will not be read by cultured peo
ple. The reviews will pat him on the back, half approving
ly, half snecringly; conservatives will shake their heads
doubtfully, the cunning misleadcrs of the people will rail and
spit upon him. But if he come he shall find for all these things
a glorious recompense, for the blessing and admiration of
countless honest, humble hearts shall be his and a name which
shall cease to live only when these burning questions of today
shall cease to glow.
Have we as writers of fiction one who approaches the ideal?
As for any difference in style or methods which the average
reader will perceive, James and Howells are practically one
man. Their scenes are laid in European watering places or,
what amounts to the same thing, in the higher circles of Bos
ton or New York,"the humbler characters bcing brought in
only as foils for the central figures. Their characters are per
sons whom most of us have never met and never will meet,
on whom none of the crushing exigencies of life ever come,
and who would sink beneath them if they did. They talk
much, they do'nothing. Howells and James are literary loaf
ers, perched high on Society's fence, above the mud and wa -ter
of the street below. I rail not ut them, but oh for a man
and brother who will stand on my 'level and reach forth a
hand to help! Vivid pictures of eastern society life these nov
els may be but as such they arc naught to me. I have ceased
to read them, for to me they bring no message, they teach no
lesson. They do not deal with the problems of my every day
life.
I take up the novels of Mr. Crawford. I sit enchanted by
the ornate beauty of his descriptions, the splendid sweep of
action; I live for a while among black-eyed Orientals with the
wealth ot the Indies under, their mobile fingers. I hear the
rustle of silken robes, I catch the flash of precious stones; I
close the book and sit once more discontented aud perplexed
in the stifling atmosphere and keen necessities of my life. Oh
you of culture and wealth, free to turn wheresoever you will,
free to wrap yourselves wholly from this world, in theperfnm-
ed dream-clouds of your own fancy,read these eastern dreams
and profit by and enjoy them, but such books are not for
me.
Of all American novels which I have read those of Miss
Woolson come the nearest to my ideal. Here at last we breath
the atmosphere of our own world, real men and women tell
