Hawthorne is
almost alone in his command of both kinds. We can live only in the
hope that Mr. Kipling, so skilled in so many species of the conte,
so vigorous in so many kinds of verse, will also be triumphant in
the novel: though it seems unlikely that its scene can be in
England, and though it is certain that a writer who so cuts to the
quick will not be happy with the novel's almost inevitable
"padding." Mr. Kipling's longest effort, "The Light which Failed,"
can, perhaps, hardly be considered a test or touchstone of his
powers as a novelist. The central interest is not powerful enough;
the characters are not so sympathetic, as are the interest and the
characters of his short pieces. Many of these persons we have met
so often that they are not mere passing acquaintances, but already
find in us the loyalty due to old friends.
Footnotes:
{1} The subject has been much more gravely treated in Mr. Robert
Bridges's "Achilles in Scyros."
{2} Conjecture may cease, as Mr. Morris has translated the Odyssey.
{3} For Helen Pendennis, see the "Letters," p. 97.
{4} Mr. Henley has lately, as a loyal Dickensite, been defending
the plots of Dickens, and his tragedy. Pro captu lectoris; if the
reader likes them, then they are good for the reader: "good
absolute, not for me though," perhaps. The plot of "Martin
Chuzzlewit" may be good, but the conduct of old Martin would strike
me as improbable if I met it in the "Arabian Nights.
Pages:
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228