[Ill.u.s.tration: WALTER SCOTT]

[Sidenote: FIRST ROMANCES]

Rummaging in a cabinet one day after some fishing tackle, he found a ma.n.u.script long neglected and forgotten. Instead of going fishing Scott read his ma.n.u.script, was fascinated by it, and presently began to write in headlong fashion. In three weeks he added sixty-five chapters to his old romance, and published it as _Waverley_ (1814) without signing his name. Then he went away on another "raid" to the Highlands. When he returned, at the end of the summer, he learned that his book had made a tremendous sensation, and that Fame, hat in hand, had been waiting at his door for some weeks.

In the next ten years Scott won his name of "the Wizard of the North," for it seemed that only magic could produce stories of such quality in such numbers: _Guy Mannering_, _Rob Roy_, _Old Mortality_, _Redgauntlet_, _Heart of Midlothian_, portraying the deathless romance of Scotland; and _Ivanhoe_, _Kenilworth_, _The Talisman_ and other novels which changed dull history to a drama of fascinating characters. Not only England but the Continent hailed this magnificent work with delight. Money and fame poured in upon the author. Fortune appeared for once "with both hands full." Then the crash came.

To understand the calamity one must remember that Scott regarded literature not as an art but as a profitable business; that he aimed to be not a great writer but a lord of high degree. He had been made a baronet, and was childishly proud of the t.i.tle; his work and his vast earnings were devoted to the dream of a feudal house which should endure through the centuries and look back to Sir Walter as its n.o.ble founder. While living modestly on his income at Ashestiel he had used the earnings of his poems to buy a rough farm at Clarty Hole, on the Tweed, and had changed its unromantic name to Abbotsford. More land was rapidly added and "improved" to make a lordly estate; then came the building of a castle, where Scott entertained lavishly, as lavishly as any laird or chieftain of the olden time, offering to all visitors "the honors of Scotland."

[Ill.u.s.tration: ABBOTSFORD]

Enormous sums were spent on this bubble, and still more money was needed. To increase his income Scott went into secret partnership with his publishers, indulged in speculative ventures, ran the firm upon the shoals, drew large sums in advance of his earnings.

Suddenly came a business panic; the publishing firm failed miserably, and at fifty five Scott, having too much honest pride to take advantage of the bankruptcy laws, found himself facing a debt of more than a hundred thousand pounds.

[Sidenote: HIS LAST YEARS]

His last years were spent in an heroic struggle to retrieve his lost fortunes. He wrote more novels, but without much zest or inspiration; he undertook other works, such as the voluminous _Life of Napoleon_, for which he was hardly fitted, but which brought him money in large measure. In four years he had repaid the greater part of his debt, but mind and body were breaking under the strain. When the end came, in 1832, he had literally worked himself to death. The murmur of the Tweed over its shallows, music that he had loved since childhood, was the last earthly sound of which he was conscious. The house of Abbotsford, for which he had planned and toiled, went into strange hands, and the n.o.ble family which he had hoped to found died out within a few years. Only his work remains, and that endures the wear of time and the tooth of criticism.

THE POEMS OF SCOTT. Three good poems of Scott are _Marmion_, _The Lay of the Last Minstrel_ and _The Lady of the Lake_; three others, not so good, are _Rokeby_, _Vision of Don Roderick_ and _Lord of the Isles_. Among these _The Lady of the Lake_ is such a favorite that, if one were to question the tourists who annually visit the Trossachs, a surprisingly large number of them would probably confess that they were led not so much by love of natural beauty as by desire to visit "Fair Ellen's Isle" and other scenes which Scott has immortalized in verse.

We may as well admit frankly that even the best of these poems is not first-cla.s.s; that it shows careless workmanship, and is lacking in the finer elements of beauty and imagination. But Scott did not aim to create a work of beauty; his purpose was to tell a good story, and in that he succeeded. His _Lady of the Lake_, for example, has at least two virtues: it holds the reader's attention; and it fulfills the first law of poetry, which is to give pleasure.

[Sidenote: QUALITY OF THE POEMS]

Another charm of the poems, for young readers especially, is that they are simple, vigorous, easily understood. Their rapid action and flying verse show hardly a trace of conscious effort. Reading them is like sweeping downstream with a good current, no labor required save for steering, and attention free for what awaits us around the next bend. When the bend is pa.s.sed, Scott has always something new and interesting: charming scenery, heroic adventure, picturesque incidents (such as the flight of the Fiery Cross to summon the clans), interesting fragments of folklore, and occasionally a ballad like "Lochinvar," or a song like "Bonnie Dundee,"

which stays with us as a happy memory long after the poem is forgotten.

A secondary reason for the success of these poems was that they satisfied a fashion, very popular in Scott's day, which we have not yet outgrown. That fashion was to attribute chivalrous virtues to outlaws and other merry men, who in their own day and generation were imprisoned or hanged, and who deserved their fate. Robin Hood's gang, for example, or the Raiders of the Border, were in fact a tough lot of thieves and cutthroats; but when they appeared in romantic literature they must of course appeal to ladies; so Scott made them fine, dashing, manly fellows, sacrificing to the fashion of the hour the truth of history and humanity. As Andrew Lang says:

"In their own days the Border Riders were regarded as public nuisances by statesmen, who attempted to educate them by means of the gibbet. But now they were the delight of fine ladies, contending who should be most extravagant in encomium. A blessing on such fine ladies, who know what is good when they see it!"

[Footnote: Quoted in Nicoll and Seccombe, _A History of English Literature_, Vol. Ill, p. 957.]

SCOTT'S NOVELS. To appreciate the value of Scott's work one should read some of the novels that were fashionable in his day,--silly, sentimental novels, portraying the "sensibilities" of imaginary ladies. [Footnote: In America, Cooper's first romance, _Precaution_ (1820), was of this artificial type. After Scott's outdoor romances appeared, Cooper discovered his talent, and wrote _The Spy_ and the Leather-Stocking tales. Maria Edgeworth and Jane Austen began to improve or naturalize the English novel before Scott attempted it.] That Scott was influenced by this inane fashion appears plainly in some of his characters, his fine ladies especially, who pose and sentimentalize till we are mortally weary of them; but this influence pa.s.sed when he discovered his real power, which was to portray men and women in vigorous action. _Waverley_, _Rob Roy_, _Ivanhoe_, _Redgauntlet_,--such stories of brave adventure were like the winds of the North, bringing to novel-readers the tang of the sea and the earth and the heather. They braced their readers for life, made them feel their kinship with nature and humanity. Incidentally, they announced that two new types of fiction, the outdoor romance and the historical novel, had appeared with power to influence the work of Cooper, Thackeray, d.i.c.kens and a host of minor novelists.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE GREAT WINDOW (MELROSE ABBEY)]

[Sidenote: GROUPS OF STORIES]

The most convenient way of dealing with Scott's works is to arrange them in three groups. In the first are the novels of Scotland: _Waverley_, dealing with the loyalty of the clans to the Pretender; _Old Mortality_, with the faith and struggles of the Covenanters; _Redgauntlet_, with the plots of the Jacobites; _The Abbot_ and _The Monastery_, with the traditions concerning Mary Queen of Scots; _Guy Mannering, The Antiquary_ and _The Heart of Midlothian_, with private life and humble Scottish characters.

In the second group are the novels which reveal the romance of English history: _Ivanhoe_, dealing with Saxon and Norman in the stormy days when Richard Lionheart returned to his kingdom; _Kenilworth_, with the intrigues of Elizabeth's Court; _The Fortunes of Nigel_, with London life in the days of Charles First; _Woodstock_, with Cromwell's iron age; _Peveril of the Peak_, with the conflict between Puritan and Cavalier during the Restoration period.

In the third group are the novels which take us to foreign lands: _Quentin Durward_, showing us the French court as dominated by the cunning of Louis Eleventh, and _The Talisman_, dealing with the Third Crusade.

In the above list we have named not all but only the best of Scott's novels. They differ superficially, in scenes or incidents; they are all alike in motive, which is to tell a tale of adventure that shall be true to human nature, no matter what liberties it may take with the facts of history.

[Sidenote: QUALITY OF THE NOVELS]

In all these novels the faults are almost as numerous as the virtues; but while the faults appear small, having little influence on the final result, the virtues are big, manly, wholesome,--such virtues as only the greatest writers of fiction possess. Probably all Scott's faults spring from one fundamental weakness: he never had a high ideal of his own art. He wrote to make money, and was inclined to regard his day's labor as "so much scribbling." Hence his style is frequently slovenly, lacking vigor and concentration; his characters talk too much, apparently to fill s.p.a.ce; he caters to the romantic fashion (and at the same time indulges his Tory prejudice) by enlarging on the somewhat imaginary virtues of knights, n.o.bles, feudal or royal inst.i.tutions, and so presents a one-sided view of history.

On the other hand, Scott strove to be true to the great movements of history, and to the moral forces which, in the end, prevail in all human activity. His sympathies were broad; he mingled in comradeship with all cla.s.ses of society, saw the best in each; and from his observation and sympathy came an enormous number of characters, high or low, good or bad, grave or ridiculous, but nearly all natural and human, because drawn from life and experience.

[Sidenote: SCENE AND INCIDENT]

Another of Scott's literary virtues is his love of wild nature, which led him to depict many grand or gloomy scenes, partly for their own sake, but largely because they formed a fitting background for human action. Thus, _The Talisman_ opens with a pen picture of a solitary Crusader moving across a sun-scorched desert towards a distant island of green. Every line in that description points to action, to the rush of a horseman from the oasis, to the fierce trial of arms before the enemies speak truce and drink together from the same spring. Many another of Scott's descriptions of wild nature is followed by some gallant adventure, which we enjoy the more because we imagine that adventures ought to occur (though they seldom do) amid romantic surroundings.

[Ill.u.s.tration: SCOTT'S TOMB IN DRYBURGH ABBEY]

WHAT TO READ. At least one novel in each group should be read; but if it be asked, Which one? the answer is as much a matter of taste as of judgment.

Of the novels dealing with Scottish life, _Waverley_, which was Scott's first attempt, is still an excellent measure of his story-telling genius; but there is more adventurous interest in _Old Mortality_ or _Rob Roy_; and in _The Heart of Midlothian_ (regarded by many as the finest of Scott's works) one feels closer to nature and human nature, and especially to the heart of Scotland. _Ivanhoe_ is perhaps the best of the romances of English history; and of stories dealing with adventure in strange lands, _The Talisman_ will probably appeal strongest to young readers, and _Quentin Durward_ to their elders. To these may be added _The Antiquary_, which is a good story, and which has an element of personal interest in that it gives us glimpses of Scott himself, surrounded by old armor, old legends, old costumes,--mute testimonies to the dreams and deeds of yesterday's men and women.

Such novels should be read once for the story, as Scott intended; and then, if one should grow weary of modern-problem novels, they may be read again for their wholesome, bracing atmosphere, for their tenderness and wisdom, for their wide horizons, for their joy of climbing to heights where we look out upon a glorious Present, and a yet more glorious Past that is not dead but living.

OTHER FICTION WRITERS

Of the work of Walter Scott we have already spoken. When such a genius appears, dominating his age, we think of him as a great inventor, and so he was; but like most other inventors his trail had been blazed, his way prepared by others who had gone before him. His first romance, _Waverley_, shows the influence of earlier historical romances, such as Jane Porter's _Thaddeus of Warsaw_ and _Scottish Chiefs_; in his later work he acknowledged his indebtedness to Maria Edgeworth, whose _Castle Rackrent_ had aroused enthusiasm at the beginning of the nineteenth century. In brief, the romantic movement greatly encouraged fiction writing, and Scott did excellently what many others were doing well.

Two things are noticeable as we review the fiction of this period: the first, that nearly all the successful writers were women; [Footnote: The list includes: f.a.n.n.y Burney, Ann Radcliffe, Jane Porter, Maria Edgeworth, Susan Ferrier, Sydney Owenson (Lady Morgan), Mary Brunton, Hannah More, Mary Russell Mitford,--all of whom were famous in their day, and each of whom produced at least one "best seller"] the second, that of these writers only one, the most neglected by her own generation, holds a secure place in the hearts of present-day readers. If it be asked why Jane Austen's works endure while others are forgotten, the answer is that almost any trained writer can produce a modern romance, but it takes a genius to write a novel. [Footnote: The difference between the modern romance and the novel is evident in the works of Scott and Miss Austen. Scott takes an unusual subject, he calls up kings, n.o.bles, chieftains, clansmen, robber barons,--a host of picturesque characters; he uses his imagination freely, and makes a story for the story's sake. Miss Austen takes an ordinary country village, observes its people as through a microscope, and portrays them to the life.

She is not interested in making a thrilling story, but in showing us men and women as they are; and our interest is held by the verity of her portrayal. (For a different distinction between romance and novel, see "THE EARLY ENGLISH NOVEL" above, Chapter VI.)]

[Ill.u.s.tration: MRS. HANNAH MORE]

JANE AUSTEN. The rare genius of Miss Austen (1775-1817) was as a forest flower during her lifetime. While f.a.n.n.y Burney, Jane Porter and Maria Edgeworth were widely acclaimed, this little woman remained almost unknown, following no school of fiction, writing for her own pleasure, and destroying whatever did not satisfy her own sense of fitness. If she had any theory of fiction, it was simply this: to use no incident but such as had occurred before her eyes, to describe no scene that was not familiar, and to portray only such characters as she knew intimately, their speech, dress, manner, and the motives that governed their action. If unconsciously she followed any rule of expression, it was that of Cowper, who said that to touch and retouch is the secret of almost all good writing. To her theory and rule she added personal charm, intelligence, wit, genius of a high order. Neglected by her own generation, she has now an ever-widening circle of readers, and is ranked by critics among the five or six greatest writers of English fiction.

[Sidenote: HER LIFE]

Jane Austen's life was short and extremely placid. She was born (1775) in a little Hampshire village; she spent her entire life in one country parish or another, varying the scene by an occasional summer at the watering-place of Bath, which was not very exciting.

Her father was an easy-going clergyman who read Pope, avoided politics, and left preaching to his curate. She was one of a large family of children, who were brought up to regard elegance of manner as a cardinal virtue, and vulgarity of any kind as the epitome of the seven deadly sins. Her two brothers entered the navy; hence the flutter in her books whenever a naval officer comes on a furlough to his native village. She spent her life in homely, pleasant duties, and did her writing while the chatter of family life went on around her. Her only characters were visitors who came to the rectory, or who gathered around the tea-table in a neighbor's house. They were absolutely unconscious of the keen scrutiny to which they were subjected; no one whispered to them, "A chiel's amang ye, takin' notes"; and so they had no suspicion that they were being transferred into books.

The first three of Miss Austen's novels were written at Steventon, among her innocent subjects, but her precious ma.n.u.scripts went begging in vain for a publisher. [Footnote: _Northanger Abbey_, _Pride and Prejudice_ and _Sense and Sensibility_ were written between 1796 and 1799, when Jane Austen had just pa.s.sed her twenty-first year. Her first novel was bought by a publisher who neglected to print it. The second could not be sold till after the third was published, in 1811.] The last three, reflecting as in a gla.s.s the manners of another parish, were written at Chawton, near Winchester. Then the good work suddenly began to flag. The same disease that, a little later, was to call halt to Keats's poetry of beauty now made an end of Miss Austen's portrayal of everyday life. When she died (1817) she was only forty-two years old, and her heart was still that of a young girl.

A stained-gla.s.s window in beautiful old Winchester Cathedral speaks eloquently of her life and work.

[Sidenote: NOVELS AND CHARACTERS]

If we must recommend one of Miss Austen's novels, perhaps _Pride and Prejudice_ is the most typical; but there is very little to justify this choice when the alternative is _Northanger Abbey_, or _Emma_, or _Sense and Sensibility_, or _Persuasion_, or _Mansfield Park_. All are good; the most definite stricture that one can safely make is that _Mansfield Park_ is not so good as the others. Four of the novels are confined to country parishes; but in _Northanger Abbey_ and _Persuasion_ the horizon is broadened to include a watering place, whither genteel folk went "to take the air."

The characters of all these novels are: first, the members of five or six families, with their relatives, who try to escape individual boredom by gregariousness; and second, more of the same kind a.s.sembled at a local fair or sociable. Here you meet a dull country squire or two, a feeble-minded baronet, a curate laboriously upholding the burden of his dignity, a doctor trying to hide his emptiness of mind by looking occupied, an uncomfortable male person in tow of his wife, maiden aunts, fond mammas with their awkward daughters, chatterboxes, poor relations, spoiled children,--a characteristic gathering. All these, except the spoiled children, talk with perfect propriety about the weather. If in the course of a long day anything witty is said, it is an accident, a phenomenon; conversation halts, and everybody looks at the speaker as if he must have had "a rush of brains to the head."

[Sidenote: HER SMALL FIELD]

Such is Jane Austen's little field, an eddy of life revolving endlessly around small parish interests. Her subjects are not even the whole parish, but only "the quality," whom the favored ones may meet at Mrs. B's afternoon at home. They read proper novels, knit wristlets, discuss fevers and their remedies, raise their eyebrows at gossip, connive at matrimony, and take tea. The workers of the world enter not here; neither do men of ideas, nor social rebels, nor the wicked, nor the happily unworthy poor; and the parish is blessed in having no reformers.

In this barren field, hopeless to romancers like Scott, there never was such another explorer as Jane Austen. Her demure observation is marvelously keen; sometimes it is mischievous, or even a bit malicious, but always sparkling with wit or running over with good humor. Almost alone in that romantic age she had no story to tell, and needed none. She had never met any heroes or heroines. Plots, adventures, villains, persecuted innocence, skeletons in closets,--all the ordinary machinery of fiction seemed to her absurd and unnecessary. She was content to portray the life that she knew best, and found it so interesting that, a century later, we share her enthusiasm. And that is the genius of Miss Austen, to interest us not by a romantic story but by the truth of her observation and by the fidelity of her portrayal of human nature, especially of feminine nature.

[Sidenote: INFLUENCE ON ENGLISH FICTION]