by the ,bibliothque nationale de ,france 7,bn,f_/,gallica7 at http3_/_/gallica4bnf4fr7 ,thomas ,hill ,green ,an ,estimate of ,the ,value and ,influence ,of ,works of ,fiction ,in ,modern ,times ,edited ,with ,introduction and ,notes ,by ,fred ,newton ,scott ,professor of ,rhetoric in the ,university of ,michigan ,george ,wahr ,ann ,arbor ,michigan #aiaa ,,copyright ,,fred ,,newton ,,scott #aiaa ,,the ,,ann ,,arbor ,,press ,,ann ,,arbor1 ,,mich4 ,,preface ,for a good many years ,i have used this essay of ,green's with an advanced class in the theory of prose fiction4 ,it has worked well4 ,it always arouses discussion1 and in doing so it has the great virtue that it imperiously leads the argument away from superficialities and centers it upon fundamentals4 ,its service as a stimulus to high thinking cannot easily be overestimated4 ,for any student1 and especially for one who has known only the unidea'd criticism of fiction so popular today1 it is a fine thing to come in contact with a high-minded1 sturdy1 and uncompromising thinker such as ,green is4 ,as ,green says of the hearer of tragedy1 ,he bears about him1 for a time at least1 among the rank vapors of the earth1 something of the freshness and fragrance of the higher air4 ,i trust that this reprint1 by making the essay more easily accessible than it has been heretofore1 will help to raise the grade of student thought and taste and criticism4 ,f4 ,n4 ,s4 ,university of ,michigan ,december #a1 #aiaj4 ,,contents4 ,,page ,introduction #i ,i4 ,,principles ,,of ,,art #ai a4 ,epic1 ,drama1 and ,novel #ai b4 ,imitation vs4 ,art #ba c4 ,nature the ,creation of ,thought #bb d4 ,the ',outward' aspect of ,nature #bc e4 ,conquest of ,nature by ,art #bd f4 ,the ,artist as ,idealizer #bf g4 ,the ,epic #bg h4 ,tragedy as ,purifier of the ,passions #bi i4 ,tragedy the ,elevation of ,life #cc j4 ,conditions ,favorable to ,tragedy #cd ,,ii4 ,,the ,,novel ,,an ,,inferior ,,form ,,of ,,art #ce a4 ,beginnings of the ,novel #ce b4 ,characteristics of the ,spectator #cf c4 ,the ,modern ,novel a ,reflection of ,ordinary ,life #ch d4 ,naturalism vs4 ,idealism #dc e4 ,tragedy and the ,novel #dd f4 ,the ,epic and the ,novel #dg g4 ,poetry and ,prose #di h4 ,the ,novel an ,incomplete ,presentation of ,life #eb i4 ,prudence the ,novelist's ,highest ,morality #ed j4 ,evil ,effects of ,novel-reading #ef ,,iii4 ,,true ,,function ,,of ,,the ,,novel #fj a4 ,a ,widener of ,experience #fj b4 ,an ,expander of ,sympathies #fc c4 ,a ,creator of ,public ,sentiment #fi d4 ,a ,leveller of ,intellects #fi ,,appendix4 a4 ,an ,appreciation of ,green's ,essay #gb b4 ,hegel on the ,novel #gg ,,introduction ,thomas ,hill ,green was born in ,birkin1 ,yorkshire1 ,april #g1 #ahcf4 ,his early education was acquired first at home under his father1 the rector of ,birkin1 then at ,rugby1 where he was sent at the age of fourteen4 ,in #ahee he entered ,balliol ,college1 ,oxford1 and came under the influence of ,jowett1 afterwards famous as ,master of ,balliol and translator of ,plato4 ,though he matured early1 ,green was not a brilliant student4 ,on the contrary1 he appeared to be indolent and sluggish4 ,no man1 wrote one of his fellow-students in #ahfb1 is driven with greater difficulty to work not to his taste4444 ,he wrote some of the best college essays3 he never sent them in on the right day1 and might generally be seen on the ,monday pondering over essays which every one else had sent in on the ,friday night4 ,these traits1 however1 as it proved later1 were the index not of a vagrant mind1 but of independence of thought and of preoccupation with weightier matters4 ,to quote again from the tribute of a fellow-student3 ,on everything he said or wrote there was stamped the impress of a forcible individuality1 a mind that thought for itself1 and whose thoughts had the rugged strength of an original character wherein grimness was mingled with humor1 and practical shrewdness with a love for abstract speculation4 ,in the end1 his solid qualities of mind and character made so strong an impression upon the ,university authorities that in #ahfj he was elected fellow of ,balliol4 ,at the same time he became lecturer on ancient and modern history4 ,though from the beginning of his student life he had been drawn to an academic career and especially to the study of philosophy1 he was now for a period undecided what to make his life-work4 ,at one time he thought of going into journalism in ,india4 ,in #ahfd1 having accepted a place with the ,royal ,commission on ,middle ,class ,schools1 he prepared a valuable report upon the organization of high schools and their relation to the university4 ,finally1 however1 in #ahff1 his indecision was brought to an end4 ,obtaining an appointment in that year to a position on the teaching staff of ,balliol ,college1 he settled down to the work of a tutor in philosophy4 ,when ,jowett was made ,master of ,balliol1 ,green became1 under him1 the responsible manager of the college1 performing the manifold small duties of the position with patience1 thoroughness1 and tact4 ,in #ahga he was married to ,miss ,charlotte ,symonds1 sister of ,john ,addington ,symonds4 ,twice ,green was candidate for a professorship2 once in #ahfd when he applied for the chair of moral philosophy at ,st4 ,andrews1 and again in #ahfg when the ,waynflate professorship of moral and metaphysical philosophy fell vacant at ,oxford4 ,in both cases he was unsuccessful4 ,it was not until #ahgh1 by his election to the ,whyte's professorship of moral philosophy1 that he obtained the position and the independence he had long deserved4 ,his enjoyment of the honor was brief4 ,he died of blood-poisoning1 after an illness of only ten days1 ,march #bf1 #ahhb4 ,green's character was compounded of a variety of elements4 ,the shyness and reserve characteristic of many cultivated ,englishmen1 was accentuated in his case by a natural austerity and an absorption in serious thought4 ,but though his temper was puritanic and inclined to moroseness1 there was no sourness or cynicism in it4 ,if1 he wrote to ,miss ,symonds1 ,i am rather a melancholy bird1 given to physical fatigue and depression1 yet ,i have never known for a moment what it was to be weary of life1 as the youth of this age are fond of saying that they are4 ,the world has always seemed very good to me4 ,grim though he might be outwardly1 he had a keen sense of humor and a warmth of interest in his fellows that made him1 for those who broke through his reserve1 a charming companion4 ,his most characteristic quality was elevation of mind4 ,in the essay that is here reprinted he speaks of that aspiring pride which arises from the sense of walking in intellect on the necks of a subject crowd4 ,something of this elevation1 this aloofness from the vulgar1 characterized all of his utterances and gave to them at times a solemn fervency akin to that of the ,hebrew prophets4 ,this trait is finely portrayed in the following description of the tutor ,grey 7a thin disguise for ,green7 in ,mrs4 ,ward's ',robert ,elsmere3' ,in after years memory could always recall to him at will the face and figure of the speaker1 the massive head1 the deep eyes sunk under the brows1 the midland accent1 the make of limb and features which seemed to have some suggestion in them of the rude strength and simplicity of a peasant ancestry2 and then the nobility1 the fire1 the spiritual beauty flashing through it all6 ,here1 indeed1 was a man on whom his fellows might lean1 a man in whom the generation of spiritual force was so strong and continuous that it overflowed of necessity into the poorer1 barrener lives around him1 kindling and enriching4 ,green's contributions to philosophy were partly constructive1 partly 7and perhaps mainly7 critical and destructive4 ,on the critical side1 his greatest effort was his attack upon the philosophy of ,hume in two masterly ,introductions to an edition of ,hume's ',works1' published in #ahgd-e4 ,english philosophical thinking1 so ,green held1 had stuck fast in the scepticism of ,hume4 ,such forward movement in thought as there had been since the #ahth ,century1 had come mainly through the writings of men like ,wordsworth and ,shelley--men who having seen deeply into life1 had expressed themselves in imaginative1 not in philosophical ways4 ,to set the stagnant tide of speculative thinking in motion1 involved a two-fold task3 on one side the breaking down of the barriers erected by the sensationalist and materialist schools of the #agth and #ahth centuries1 and on the other side the letting in of a current of fresh ideas from some source outside of ,england4 ,the first1 or destructive1 task ,green performed with remarkable success in the two ,introductions4 ,for the new and truer ideas which were to displace the old1 he naturally looked to ,germany1 whose methods of research were just coming into vogue at ,oxford through the influence of ,pattison and ,jowett4 ,and since to speculative thinkers of that time ,german philosophy meant the philosophy of ,hegel1 ,green's fundamental conceptions were derived by ,hegelian modes of thinking4 ,in other words1 he was a neo-,hegelian4 ,but1 as his biographer notes1 he never committed himself unreservedly to the ,hegelian credo4 ,while he regarded ,hegel's system as the 'last word of philosophy1' he did not occupy himself with the exposition of it1 but with the reconsideration of the elements in ,kant of which it was the development4 ,that is1 he was a neo-,kantian as well as a neo-,hegelian4 ,of his constructive thinking in these channels the most complete embodiment is his ',prolegomena to ,ethics4' ,though naturally his contributions to philosophy are first in bulk and importance1 ,green's writings cover a considerable range of subjects4 ,listed in the order of publication1 they are as follows3 ',the ,force of ,circumstances1' published in ,undergraduate ,papers1 #aheh2 ',an ,estimate of the ,value and ,influence of ,prose ,fiction1' published as a prize essay1 #ahfb2 ',the ,philosophy of ,aristotle' and ',popular ,philosophy in its relation to ,life1' ,north ,british ,review1 ,sept41 #ahff1 and ,march1 #ahfh2 ,introductions to ',hume's ,treatise of ,human ,nature' #ahgd-e2 ',the ,grading of ,secondary ,schools1' ,journal of ,education1 ,may1 #ahgg2 ,review of ,e4 ,caird's ',philosophy of ,kant1' ,academy1 ,sept4 #bb1 #ahgg2 ',mr4 ,spencer on the ,relations of ,subject and ,object1' ,contemporary ,review1 ,dec41 #ahgg2 ',mr4 ,spencer on the ,independence of ,matter1' ibid41 ,march1 #ahgh2 ',mr4 ,lewes' ,account of ,experience1' ibid41 ,july1 #ahgh2 review of ,j4 ,caird's ',introduction to the ,philosophy of ,religion1' ,academy1 ,july #aj1 #ahhj2 ',answer to ,mr4 ,hodgson1' ,contemporary ,review1 ,january1 #ahha2 review of ,j4 ,watson's ',kant and his ,english ,critics1' ,academy1 ,september #ag1 #bd1 #ahha2 ',liberal ,legislation and ,freedom of ,control1' #ahha2 ',the ,work to be done by the ,new ,oxford ,high ,school1' #ahhb2 ',prolegomena to ,ethics1' #ahhc2 ',the ,witness of ,god' and ',faith' 7delivered in #ahgj and #ahgg1 and at the time printed for private circulation71 #ahhd4 ,all of the foregoing1 with the exception of the ',prolegomena to ,ethics1' are included in the ',works' edited by ,r4 ,l4 ,nettleship 7#c ,vols41 #ahhe1 #b;d ,ed4 #ahhi1 ,longmans74 ,the ',works' contain1 in addition1 the following writings not previously published3 ,an essay on ',the ,influence of ,civilization on ,genius'2 an essay on ',christian ,dogma'2 an article on ',mr4 ,lewes' ,account of the ,social ,medium1' written for the ,contemporary ,review1 but not used2 four lectures or addresses on the ,new ,testament2 four lectures on ',the ,english ,commonwealth'2 a series of lectures on ',the ,philosophy of ,kant1' on ',logic' and on ',the principles of ,political ,obligations'2 a lecture on ',the ,different ,senses of ,freedom as ,applied to ,will and to the ,moral ,progress of ,man'2 and a fragment on ',immortality4' ,aside from occasional references to poetry and art in his philosophical writings1 as1 for example1 in the opening paragraphs of the ',prolegomena1' the essay on fiction here reprinted is ,green's only venture in the field of aesthetic criticism4 ,when we remember that it was one of his earliest productions1 having been submitted for the ,chancellor's prize in #ahfb1 when ,green was but #bf years of age1 the maturity of both style and contents seems remarkable4 ,it is in fact a monumental piece of literary criticism1 sufficient to establish the reputation of many a lesser writer4 ,at the same time1 however1 there is about it an air of constraint which shows that the author was not at ease in this kind of speculation4 ,he was fencing1 so to speak1 with his left hand4 ,his mind was so absorbed in the metaphysical1 ethical1 and religious aspects of experience that upon the aesthetic as such he had little attention to bestow4 ,when he approached aesthetic problems at all it was for the purpose of obtaining data which he could employ in other fields of thought4 ,he was obviously not in sympathy with the aims of ,english novelists4 ,he had no expert knowledge of the history of fiction in ,england1 and no knowledge at all1 so far as appears1 of its history in other countries4 ,probably he misunderstood the relation1 in certain particulars1 of the novel to the epic4 ,nevertheless1 his appreciation of concrete works of art was so genuine and profound1 his insight so clear1 his expressed judgments so candid1 that any contact of his mind with art1 literary or other1 could not fail to be illuminating4 ,whatever its limitations1 the essay has at least one distinguishing merit3 in it a fundamental principle of criticism is applied with merciless rigor to the solution of a literary problem4 ,the products of such a method are certain to be interesting and valuable4 ,whether we agree with the author's conclusions or not1 we can at least see whence he derives them and feel the stimulus which always comes from the spectacle of a powerful mind grappling in deadly earnest with momentous questions of art and life4 ,,an ,,estimate of the ,value and ,influence of ,works of ,fiction in ,modern ,times ,i4 ,,principles ,,of ,,art ,a4 ,,epic1 ,,drama1 ,,and ,,novel #a4 ,we commonly distinguish writings which appeal directly to the emotions from those of which the immediate object is the conveyance of knowledge1 by applying to the former a term of conveniently loose meaning1 works of imagination4 ,of the kinds included in the wide denotation of this term there are three1 between which it seems difficult at first sight to draw a definite line2 which appeal to similar feelings1 and excite a similar interest1 in the different ages to which each is appropriate4 ,these are the epic poem1 the drama1 and the novel4 ,each purports to be1 in some sort1 a reflex of human life and action1 as obeying certain laws and tending to a certain end4 ,in each men are represented1 not as at rest1 or in contemplative isolation1 but in co-operation or collision4 ,in each there is a combination of two elements1 an outer element of incident1 an inner of passion and character4 ,in view of these common features1 we might be tempted at first sight to suppose the difference between the three kinds to be merely one of form1 merely the difference between the vehicle of prose and the vehicle of metre4 ,we shall find1 however1 on deeper inquiry1 that to the true artist1 who does not find his materials in the world1 but creates them according to the inner laws by which the world and himself are governed1 the vehicle is not more a part of his creation than the impassioned truth which it conveys4 ,here1 as elsewhere1 form and substance are inseparable2 and the difference of form that distinguishes the novel from the other kinds of composition which it seems for the present to have superseded1 symbolises1 or rather is identical with1 a different potency in the art by which the substance is created4#a ,,footnote3 #a ,though in its most general sense the substance and matter of all fine art is the same1 issuing from the common source of the human desire for expression1 yet the region of fancy corresponding to each medium of utterance is molded by intercourse with that medium1 and acquires an individuality which is not directly reducible to terms of any other region of aesthetic fancy4 ,feeling1 in short1 is modified in becoming communicable2 and the feeling which has become communicable in music is not capable of re-translation into the feeling which has become communicable in painting4 ,thus the arts have no doubt in common a human and even rational content--rational in so far as the feelings which are embodied in expression1 for expression's sake1 arise in connection with ideas and purposes2 but each of them has separately its own peculiar physical medium of expression and also a whole region of modified feeling or fancy which constitutes the material proper to be expressed in the medium and according to the laws of each particular art4--,b4 ,bosanquet1 ',the ,relation of the ,fine ,arts to ,one ,another' 7,proceedings of the ,aristotelian ,society74 ,b4 ,,imitation vs4 ,,art #b4 ,mere copying is not art4 ,the farther the artist rises above the stage of imitation1 the higher is his art1 the more elevating its influence on those who can enter into its spirit4 ,if the landscape-painter does nothing more than represent nature as seen by the outward eye1 the vulgar objection against looking at pictures--,i can see as fine a view as this any day--is unquestionably valid4 ,but if the painter is anything better than a photographer1 he does far more than this4 ,he brings nature before us1 as we have seen it1 perhaps1 only once or twice in our lives1 under the influence of some strong emotion4 ,he does that for us which we cannot do for ourselves2 he reproduces those moments of spiritual exaltation in which we feel that we are greater than we know--moments which we can remember1 and of which the mere memory may be the light of our lives1 but which no act of our own will can bring back4 ,it is not till the distinction has been appreciated between nature as it is and nature as we make it to be1 between that which we see and that which having not seen we love1 that any branch of art can be reckoned in its proper value4 ,c4 ,,nature ,,the ,,creation ,,of ,,thought #c4 ,in one sense of the the word1 it would no doubt be true to say that nature is simply and altogether that which we make it to be4 ,modern philosophy has discarded the language which represented our knowledge of things as the result of impressions and the transmission of images4#b ,if we still not only speak but think of ourselves as primarily passive and in contact with an alien world1 this arises simply from the difficulty of conceiving a pure spontaneous activity4 ,driven from the crude imagination which found the primary condition of knowledge in the reception of ideas from without1 common sense took refuge in the more refined hypothesis of unknown objects1 which cause our sensations1 and through sensations our knowledge4#c ,but this standing-ground has been swept away by the consideration that such a cause may be found within as well as without1 in the laws of the subject's activity as well as in objects confessedly beyond the reach of cognition4 ,our ultimate analysis can find no element in knowledge which is not supplied by ourselves in conformity to a ruling law1 or which exists independently of the action of human thought4 ,,footnotes3 #b ,as1 e4g41 in the philosophy of ,locke4 #c ,probably referring to ,herbert ,spencer4 ,d4 ,,the ,,outward ,,aspect ,,of ,,nature #d4 ,but though the world of nature is1 in this sense1 a world of man's own creation1 it is so in a different way from the world of art and of philosophy4 ,thought is indeed its parent1 but thought in its primary stage fails to recognize it as its own1 fails to transfer to it its own attributes of universality1 and identity in difference4 ,it sees outward objects merely in their diversity and isolation4 ,it seeks to penetrate nature by endless dichotomy1 glorying in that dissection of unity which is the abdication of its own prerogative4#d ,it treats outward things as ministering to animal wants1 as the sources of personal and particular pleasures and pains2 and thus induces the sense of bondage1 of collision with a world in which it has not yet learnt to find itself4 ,it places the end of human life not in harmony with the law which is the highest form of itself1 but in happiness1 i4e41 in the extraction of the greatest possible amount of enjoyment from a world to which it seems to be accidentally related4 ,the view of things corresponding to this stage of thought is what we commonly call their outward aspect4 ,it is the aspect of matter-of-fact1 of logic1 of mere morality1 as opposed to that of art1 of philosophy1 and religion4 ,,footnote3 #d ,life1 says ,professor ,dewey 7',studies in ,logical ,theory1' p4 #ha71 proposes to maintain at all hazards the unity of its own process4 ,and in a foot-note he adds3 ,professor ,james's satisfaction in the contemplation of bare pluralism1 of disconnection1 of radical having-nothing-to-do-with-one-another1 is a case in point4 ,the satisfaction points to an aesthetic attitude in which the brute diversity becomes itself one interesting object2 and thus unity asserts itself in its own denial4 ,when discords are hard and stubborn1 and intellectual and practical unification are far to seek1 nothing is commoner than the device of securing the needed unity by recourse to an emotion which feeds on the very brute variety4 ,religion and art and romantic affection are full of examples4 ,e4 ,,conquest ,,of ,,nature ,,by ,,art #e4 ,the perfection of this of latter and higher view involves the absolute fusion of thought and things4 ,its full attainment is a new creation of the world4 ,yet it is but the discovery of a relationship which was from the beginning1 the adoption by thought of a child which was never other than its own4 ,the habitual interpretation of natural events by the analogy of human design1 to which every hour's conversation testifies1 is the evidence that to the ordinary man nature presents itself not as something external1 but1 like a friend1 as another himself4 ,the true conquest of nature is but the completion of the reconciliation thus anticipated in the everyday language and consciousness of mankind4 ,when the mind has come to see in the endless flux of outward things1 not a succession of isolated phenomena1 but the reflex of its own development into an infinite variety of laws on a basis of identity--when the laws of nature are raised to the character of laws which regulate admiration and love--when the experiences of life are held together in a medium of pure emotion1 and the animal element so fused with the spiritual as to form one organization through which the same impulse runs with unimpeded energy--then man has made nature his own1 by becoming a conscious partaker of the reason which animates him and it4#e ,the attainment of this consummation is the end of life3 but it is an end that can never be fully realised1 while dualism remains a necessary condition of humanity4 ,to most men it is as a land very far off1 of which occasional glimpses are caught from some specular mount of philosophic or poetic thought4 ,it can only approach realisation through the operation of a power which can penetrate the whole man1 and act on every moment of his life4 ,but that power1 which in the form of religion can make every meal a sacrament1 and transform human passion into the likeness of divine love1 is represented at a lower stage1 not only by the unifying action of speculative philosophy1 but by the combining force of art4 ,,footnote3 #e ,the same thought may be found1 in concrete and poetic form1 in ,wordsworth's lines3 ,and ,i have felt ,a presence that disturbs me with the joy ,of elevated thoughts2 a sense sublime ,of something far more deeply interfused1 ,whose dwelling is the light of setting suns1 ,and the round ocean and the living air1 ,and the blue sky1 and in the mind of man2 ,a motion and a spirit1 that impels ,all thinking things1 all objects of all thought1 ,and rolls through all things4 ,therefore am ,i still ,a lover of the meadows and the woods1 ,and mountains4 ,f4 ,,the ,,artist ,,as ,,idealizer #f4 ,the artist1 even at his lowest level1 is more than an imitator of imitations4#f ,abridgment1 selection1 combination1 are the necessary instruments of his craft2 and by their aid he introduces harmony and order into the confused multiplicity of sensuous images4 ,he substitutes for the primary outward aspect of things a new view1 in which thought already finds a resting place4 ,just as strong emotion tends to make all known existence the setting of a single form2 just as intense meditation sees in all experience the manifestation of a single idea2 so the artist1 even if he be merely telling a story1 or painting a common landscape1 puts some of his materials in a relief1 and combines all in a harmony1 which the untaught eye does not find in the world as it is4 ,he presents to us the facts in the one case1 the outward objects in the other1 as already acted upon by thought and emotion4 ,in this sense every artist1 instead of copying nature1 idealises it4 ,in degree and mode1 however1 the idealisation varies infinitely in the various kinds of art4 ,it is by considering the height to which it is carried in the epic poem and the drama that we shall best appreciate its limitations in the novel4 ,,footnote3 #f ,here are three beds3 one existing in nature1 which is made by ,god1 as ,i think that we may say--for no one else can be the maker8--,no4--,there is another which is the work of the carpenter8--,yes4--,and the work of the painter is a third8--,yes8--,beds1 then1 are of three kinds1 and there are three artists who superintend them3 ,god1 the maker of the bed1 and the painter8--,yes1 there are three of them4--,god1 whether from choice or from necessity1 made one bed in nature and one only2 two or more such ideal beds neither ever have been nor ever will be made by ,god4444 ,shall we1 then1 speak of ,him as the natural author or maker of the bed8--,yes1 he replied2 inasmuch as by the natural process of creation ,he is the author of this and of all other things4--,and what shall we say of the carpenter--is he not also the maker of the bed8--,yes4--,but would you call the painter a creator and maker8--,certainly not4--,yet if he is not the maker1 what is he in relation to the bed8--,i think1 he said1 that we may fairly designate him as the imitator of that which the others make4--,good1 ,i said2 then you call him who is third in the descent from nature an imitator8--,certainly1 he said4--,and the tragic poet is an imitator1 and therefore1 like all other imitators1 he is thrice removed from the king and from the truth4--,that appears to be so4--,plato1 ',republic1' ,x4 #eig4 ,g4 ,,the ,,epic #g4 ,in outward form the epic poem is simply a narrative in verse4 ,historically it seems to have originated in the records of ancestral heroism1 which passed from mouth to mouth in metre1 as the natural form of oral communication in an unlettered age4 ,in the ,iliad and ,odyssey we first find this outward form penetrated by a new spirit1 which converts the narrative into the poem4 ,there is no need to do violence to historical probability by supposing that ,homer was a conscious artist1 or that he imagined himself to be doing anything else than representing events as they happened4 ,we have simply to notice that in him facts have become poetry1 and to ask ourselves what constitutes the change4 ,how is it that the epic poet1 while holding up the mirror to nature1 yet shows us in the glass a glory which belongs not to nature as we see it1 in its material limitations8 ,the answer is1 that though he follows the essential laws of the human spirit1 his scene is not the earth we live in4 ,he fills it with actors other than the men who hoard and sleep and feed around us4 ,he places the action either in heroic ages--in the past which was never present1 when gods were more human and men more divine--or in heavenly places1 and among the powers of the air4 ,the action is simple in proportion to its remoteness from the reality of life1 and rapid in proportion to its simplicity4 ,it arises from the operation of the most elementary passions1 the wrath of ,achilles or the pride of ,satan1 in collision with an overruling power4 ,for the animal wants and tricks of fortune1 which entangle the web of man's affairs1 it has no place4 ,the animal element1 if not banished from view altogether1 becomes merely the organ of the ruling motions of the spirit2 and fortune is lost in destiny or providence4 ,thus the incidents of the narrative cease to be mere incidents4 ,they are held together by passion2 they are themselves1 so to speak1 manifestations of passion working with more and more intensity to the final consummation4 ,not the laws which regulate curiosity1 but those which regulate hope and awe1 are the laws which they have to satisfy4 ,h4 ,,tragedy ,,as ,,purifier ,,of ,,the ,,passions #h4 ,in tragedy1 as the product of a more cultivated age1 these characteristics appear more strongly than in the primitive epic4 ,the ,homeric poems are still legendary narratives1 though narratives unconsciously transmuted by the highest art4 ,tragedy1 on the contrary1 has no extraneous elements4 ,it implies a conscious effort of the spirit1 made for its own sake1 to re-create human life according to spiritual laws2 to transport itself from a world1 where chance and appetite seem hourly to give the lie to its self-assertion1 into one where it may work unimpeded by anything but the antagonism inherent in itself and the presence of an overruling law4 ,this result is attained simply by the action of the proper instruments of thought1 abstraction and synthesis4 ,the tragedian presents to us scenes of life1 not its continuous flow of incident4 ,in ,macbeth1 for instance1 there is an hiatus of some years between the earlier and later acts2#g but we are not sensible of the void2 for the passions which lead to the catastrophe are but the development of those which appear at the beginning1 and to the law against which they struggle a thousand years are but as yesterday4 ,time1 however1 is but one among many circumstances which the tragedian ignores4 ,the common facts of life as it is1 and always must have been1 the influence of custom1 the transition of passion into mechanical habit1 the impossibility of continuous effort1 the necessary arrangements of society1 the wants of our animal nature and all that results from them1 these are excluded from view1 and so much only of the material of humanity is retained as can take its form from the action of the spirit1 and become a vehicle of pure passion4 ,but the synthesis keeps pace with the abstraction1 for the tragedian creates not passions but men4 ,the outer garment1 the flesh itself1 is stript off from man1 that the spirit may be left to re-clothe itself1 according to its proper impulses and its proper laws4 ,the false distinctions of dress1 of manner1 of physiognomy1 are obliterated1 that the true individuality which results from the internal modifications of passion may be seen in clearer outline4 ,these modifications are as infinite and as complex as the spirit of man itself2 and if the characters of the ancient dramatists1 in their broad simplicity1 fail to exhibit the finer lineaments of real life1 yet in ,shakespeare the variations of pure passion are as numerous and as subtle as those of the fleshly or customary mask by which man thinks that he knows his neighbour4 ,the essential difference lies in the fact that they are variations of the spiritual1 not the animal1 man2 that they arise from the qualifications of the spirit by itself1 not from its intermixture with matter4 ,it is this which gives tragedy its power over life4 ,the problem of the diabolic nature1 of the possibility of a fallen spirit1 is not for man to solve4 ,he may be satisfied with the diagnosis of his own disease1 with the knowledge that it is his littleness1 not his greatness1 that separates him from the divine2 that not intellectual pride1 not spiritual self-assertion1 but the meanness of his ordinary desires1 the degradation of his higher nature to the pursuit of animal ends1 keep him under the curse4 ,from this curse tragedy1 in its measure1 helps to relieve him4 ,it purifies his passions#h by extricating them from their earthly immersion4 ,for an hour1 it may be1 or a day1 it raises him into a world of absolute ideality1 where he may forget his wants and his vanity1 and lose himself in a struggle in which the combatants are the forces of the spirit1 and of which the end is that annihilation in collision with destiny which is but the blank side of reconciliation with it4 ,and though his sojourn in this region be short1 yet1 when he falls again1 the smell of the divine fire has passed upon him1 and he bears about him1 for a time at least1 among the rank vapours of the earth1 something of the freshness and fragrance of the higher air4 ,,footnotes3 #g ,the actual time represented in the play has been calculated to be nine days1 with intervals of a week or two between ,acts ,,ii and ,,iii1 scenes ii and iii of ,act ,,iv1 and scenes i and ii of ,act ,v4 ,see ,new ,shakespeare ,society ,publications1 #ahgg-gi4 #h ,the phrase is ,aristotle's2 cf4 the ',poetics1' ,chap4 vi1 and1 for comment1 ,butcher's ',aristotle's ,theory of ,poetry and ,fine ,art1' ,chapter vi4 ,i4 ,,tragedy ,,the ,,elevation ,,of ,,life #i4 ,in this sense1 then1 tragedy satisfies its definition as the flight or elevation of life4 ,the two indispensable supports which render this elevation possible1 are metrical expression and great situations4 ,in the regeneration the language of the market-place and the morning call may answer to the realised harmony of life2 there may1 indeed1 be the fifth act of a tragedy in every death-bed2 there may be no distinction of great or little1 high or low4 ,but it is an affectation to confound what shall be with what is4 ,we cannot dissociate ordinary incidents from the petty wants out of which they ordinarily spring1 nor common language from the common-place thoughts which it usually expresses4 ,the action in tragedy must be relative to the situation2 and if the situation be one which we are unable to separate from matter-of-fact associations1 neither can the action be so separated except by an effort which of itself depresses the soaring spirit4 ,nor1 again1 if the action be high-wrought1 above the measure of man's ordinary activity1 can it find expression in the unrhythmical language#i which corresponds to that ordinary activity4 ,new wine must not be put in old bottles2 nor must the motions of disenthralled passion be confined in vessels worn by the uses of daily life4 ,,footnote3 #i ,the language of prose is not necessarily unrhythmical1 nor is it always commonplace1 as witness1 for example1 the more moving and imaginative passages of the ,english ,bible4 ,on this point consult ,gummere's ',beginnings of ,poetry1' ,chapter ii 7,rhythm as the ,essential ,fact of ,poetry1 especially pp4 #ef-fj72 ,watts's article ',poetry' in the ,encyclopdia ,britannica2 and the ,publications of the ,modern ,language ,association1 xx4 #d4 ,j4 ,,conditions ,,favorable ,,to ,,tragedy #aj4 ,these considerations may explain to us why the production of a great tragedy is almost an impossibility in our own time4 ,the age most favourable to it would seem to be one in which men stand on the edge of an old and but half-known world--as ,aeschylus and ,sophocles stood on the edge of the mythologic1 ,shakespeare on that of the feudal world--an age of sufficient culture and reflection for men to be conscious of the glory they have left behind1 while yet civilisation has not reached the stage of acquiescence in things as they are1 and scepticism as to all beyond them4 ,those great situations furnished by the mysterious past1 in which passion quits the earth1 soon lose their charm1 and with the reign of wonder that of tragedy ceases4 ,at ,athens it gives place to the new comedy1 whose highest boast was to copy present life 7,greek3 ,menandre kai ,bie1 poteros ar' humn poteron apemimsato273#aj in modern ,europe it has yielded to the novel4 ,,footnote3 #aj ,a saying of ,aristophanes1 the ,grammarian1 quoted by ,syrianus on ,hermogenes1 ,,iv4 #aja4 ,it may be translated3 ,o ,menander and ,life6 ,which of you copies the other8 ,,ii4 ,,the ,,novel ,,an ,,inferior ,,form ,,of ,,art ,a4 ,,beginnings ,,of ,,the ,,novel #aa4 ,the novel in its proper shape did not come to the birth in ,england till the time of ,fielding and ,richardson1 but it had long been in process of formation4 ,the seventeenth century at its close had lost the tragic impulse of its youth4 ,the ecstatic hope of a new world1 combined with the sad and wondering recollection of the old1 which had raised the human spirit to the height of the ,shakesperian tragedy1 had died out1 and the age had become eminently satisfied with itself4 ,wits1 philosophers1 and poets1 alike were full of the present time4 ,while the wits complimented each other on their superiority to the weaknesses of mankind1 they made no scruple of indulging those weaknesses in their own persons4 ,it was part of their business to do so1 for it was part of life4 ,the only difference between them and other men was that they were weak and laughed over it1 while others were weak and serious4 ,philosophers congratulated themselves on their new enlightenment2 but it was an enlightenment which gave them insight into things as they are1 not as they are to be4 ,the proper study of mankind1 they held was man2 man1 however1 not in his boundless promise1 but in the mean performance with which they proclaimed themselves satisfied4 ,the poetry of the time was1 at best1 merely common-sense with ornamentation4 ,it was neither lyrical nor tragic1 though it may have tried to be both4 ,it represented man neither as withdrawn into himself1 nor as transported into an ideal world of action1 but as observing and reasoning on his present affairs4 ,the satire and moral essay were its characteristic forms4 ,b4 ,,characteristics ,,of ,,the ,,spectator #ab4 ,the most pleasing expression of this self-satisfaction of the age is found in the ,spectator1 the first and best representative of that special style of literature--the only really popular literature of our time--which consists in talking to the public about itself4 ,humanity is taken as reflected in the ordinary life of men2 and1 as thus reflected1 it is copied with the most minute fidelity4 ,no attempt is made either to suppress the baser elements of man's nature1 or to transfigure them by a stronger light than that of the common understanding4 ,no deeper laws are recognised than those which vindicate themselves to the eye of daily observation1 no motives purer than the mixed ones which the practical philosopher delights to analyse1 no life higher than that which is qualified by animal wants4 ,the reader never finds himself carried into a region where it requires an effort to travel1 or which is above the existing level of opinion and morality4 ,it is from this levelness with life that the ,spectator derives its interest--an interest so nearly the same1 barring the absence of plot1 with that of the novel1 as to lead ,macaulay to pronounce ,addison the forerunner of the great ,english novelists4#aa ,the elements of the novel1 indeed1 already existed in ,addison's time1 and only required combination4 ,fictitious biography1 which may be regarded as its raw material1 had been written by ,defoe with a life-like reality which has never since been equalled2 and the popular drama furnished plots1 in the shape of love stories drawn from present life4 ,let the adventures of the fictitious biography1 instead of being merely external to the man1 as in ,defoe1 be made subservient to that display of character in which ,addison had shown himself a master1 and let them become steps in the development of a love-plot1 and the novel--the novel of the last century1 at any rate--is fully formed4 ,as was the self-contented1 and therefore uncreative and prosaic1 thought of the age1 which produced the novel1 such the novel itself continued to be4 ,man1 comfortable and acquiescent1 wished to amuse himself by a reflex of the life which he no longer aspired to transcend4 ,he wanted to enjoy himself twice over--in act and in fancy2 or1 if the former were denied him1 at least to explore in fancy the world of pleasure and excitement1 of which circumstances abridged or disturbed his enjoyment in fact4 ,in the smooth tale1 generally of love1#ab the novelist supplied the want4 ,,footnotes3 #aa ,we have not the least doubt that1 if ,addison had written a novel1 on an extensive plan1 it would have been superior to any that we possess4 ,as it is1 he is entitled to be considered1 not only as the greatest of the ,english essayists1 but as the forerunner of the great ,english novelists4--,macaulay1 ',life and writings of ,addison4' #ab ,a small tale1 generally of love4--,johnson's ,dictionary4 ,c4 ,,the ,,modern ,,novel ,a ,,reflection ,,of ,,ordinary ,,life #ac4 ,this ,johnsonian definition may be objected to as merely accidental1 and as inconsistent with the romantic character which the novel assumed in the hands of ,sir ,walter ,scott4 ,it expresses1 however1 adequately enough the view which the popular novelists prior to ,scott took of their own productions4 ,cervantes1 though in his own great work attaining that rhapsody of grotesqueness which lies on the edge of poetry1 had yet established the idea of the novel as the antithesis of romance4 ,these novelists1 accordingly1 if they are not always telling the reader 7like ,fielding71 seem yet to be always thinking to themselves1 how perfectly natural their stories are4 ,it is on this naturalness they pride themselves2 and naturalness1 in their sense1 meant conformity to nature as it is commonly seen4 ,this is the characteristic feature of the class4 ,whether1 like ,richardson1 they analyse character from within1 or1 like ,miss ,austen1 develop it in the outward particularities of an unruffled life--whether they describe1 like ,fielding1 the buoyancy of a generous animalism1 or1 like ,miss ,edgeworth and ,miss ,burney1 the precise decencies of conventional morality--they deal simply with eighteenth-century life as seen by eighteenth-century eyesight4 ,all romantic virtue1 all idealised passion1 they rigorously eschew4 ,prudence they make the guide1 happiness the end1 of life4 ,and they do well4 ,they undertake to copy present life1 and they do so4 ,they have to reflect man's habitual consciousness2 it is not for them to anticipate a consciousness which has not yet been attained1 or to represent man's lower nature as absorbed in a spiritual movement which1 because we cannot arrest it1 we habitually ignore4 ,it is just their deficiency in this respect which gives them their peculiar fascination4 ,man is not really mere man1 though he may think himself so4 ,he is always something potentially1 which he is not actually2 always inadequate to himself2 and as such1 disturbed and miserable4 ,the novel1 on the contrary1 represents him as being what he vainly tries to be--adequate to himself4 ,it offers to his imagination the full enjoyment of earthly life1 unchallenged by obstinate surmises1 untroubled by yearnings after the divine4 ,ordinary men are satisfied with this enjoyment2 the highest are allured by its temptation4 ,the reading public is charmed with the contemplation of its own likeness1 twice as natural as life4 ,its own wisdom1 its own wishes1 its own vanity1 are set before it in little with a completeness and finish which the deeper laws of the universe1 vindicating themselves by apparent disorder and misfortune1 happily prevent from being attained in real life4#ac ,it is thus pleasantly flattered into contentment with itself--a contentment not disturbed by the occasional censure of practices which good taste condemns as ungraceful1 or prudence as prejudicial to happiness4 ,but the man of keener insight1 who1 instead of wrestling with the riddle of life1 seeks for a time to forget it1 and to place in its stead the rounded representation of activity which the novelist supplies1 cannot but find the vanity of hiding his face from the presence which he dreads4 ,out of heart with the world about him--conscious of its actual meanness1 and without vigor to re-cast it in the mould of his own thought--he fancies that after a sojourn in the world of fiction he may come back braced for his struggle with life4 ,in his study1 with a novel1 he hopes to overlook the walls of his prison-house1 to see the beginning and the end of human strife4 ,but he soon finds himself in the embrace of the very power which he sought to escape4 ,here is the world itself brought back to him4 ,here is a perfect copy of that which in actual experience he sees but partially4 ,the mirror is but too truly held up to nature4 ,the getting and spending1 the marrying and giving in marriage1 the dominion of fortune which makes life a riddle1 the prudential motives and worship of happiness which hide its divinity1 these meet him here as they meet him in life1 untransmuted1 unidealised4 ,yet the charm of art overcomes him4 ,the perfectness of the representation1 the skill with which the incidents are combined to result in a crowning happiness behind which no sorrow seems to lie1 make him find a pleasure in the copy which he cannot find in actual life1 when in personal and painful collision with it4 ,but meanwhile he gains no real strength1 he readies no new height of contemplation4 ,he comes back to the world1 as a man with a diseased digestion1 after living for a time on spiced meats1 comes back to ordinary food4 ,he has not braced the assimilative power of his thought by a flight into the ideal world1 or learnt even for a time to turn matter to spirit by sublimation strange4 ,he has remained on the earth1 and though his fancy has for the hour given the earth a charm1 he is no better able than he was before to raise his eyes from its dead level1 or remove the limits of its horizon4 #ad4 ,thus1 then1 the old quarrel of the philosopher with the imitative arts seems to be revived in respect of the novel4 ,but though novel-writers might be banished from a new republic1#ad it would not be as artists1 but for the inferiority of their art4 ,an artist indeed the novelist is2 he combines events and persons with reference to ends2 he concentrates into a dialogue of a few sentences an amount of feeling and character which it would take real men some hours to express2 he imparts a rapidity to the stream of incident quite unlike the sluggishness of our daily experience4 ,in this sense he does not copy what we see1 but shows us what we can not see for ourselves4 ,our complaint against him is that the aspect of things which he shows us is merely the outward and natural1 as opposed to the inner or ideal4 ,his answer would probably be either that the ideal1 in any sense in which it can be opposed to the natural1 must be false and delusive2 or that it is merely an accident of novel-writing1 as hitherto practised1 and not anything essential to this species of composition1 which has prevented it from exhibiting the highest aspect of things2 or1 finally1 that admitting the view which the novel presents to be necessarily lower than the poetic1 it yet is a more useful view for man to contemplate4 ,,footnotes3 #ac ,this rather obscure phrase may be interpreted as follows3 ,the average man would like to live such a rounded and symmetrical life as is portrayed in the novel4 ,he would like to see his wisdom justifying itself1 his vanity triumphant1 his selfishness achieving its end2 and he thinks that his cravings are being satisfied4 ,but the deeper laws of the universe will not be balked1 they are lying in wait4 ,and presently when he thinks1 good easy man1 his little bourgeois world is rounding into the perfect sphere1 they spring up in his path1 shatter his sugar-candy paradise1 and ruthlessly vindicate themselves 7that is1 prove that they cannot be disregarded1 that they must be reckoned with7 by bringing into his life disorder and misfortune4 #ad ,as poets were from the republic of ,plato4 ,when any one of these pantomimic gentlemen1 who are so clever that they can imitate anything1 comes to us1 and makes a proposal to exhibit himself and his poetry1 we will fall down and worship him as a sweet and holy and wonderful being2 but we must also inform him that in our state such as he are not permitted to exist2 the law will not allow them4 ,and so when we have anointed him with myrrh1 and set a garland of wool upon his head1 we shall send him away to another city4 ,for we mean to employ for our souls' health the rougher and severer poet or story-teller1 who will imitate the style of the virtuous only1 and will follow those models which we prescribed at first when we began the education of our soldiers4--,plato1 ',republic1' ,,iii4 #cih4 ,d4 ,,naturalism vs4 ,,idealism #ae4 ,much fruitless controversy between naturalism and idealism in art might have been saved by a consideration of the true character of the antithesis4 ,it becomes unmeaning as soon as nature is expanded to the fulness of the idea4 ,and so expanded it may be1 for1 according to the old formula1 it is always in flux4 ,it is never in being1 always in becoming4 ,as has been already pointed out1 it is what we see2 and we see according to higher and lower laws of vision4 ,we may look at man and the world either from without or from within4 ,we may observe man's actions like other phenomena1 and from observation learn to ascribe them to certain general but distinct motives and faculties1 which we do not refer to any higher unity2 or1 on the other hand1 by the light of our own consciousness we may recognise that in man of which no observation of his actions could tell us--something which is in him1 but yet is not his own2 which combines with all his faculties1 but is none of them2 which gives them a unity1 to which their diversity is merely relative4 ,so again with regard to the phenomena of the world2 we may look on these either simply as phenomena1 or as manifestations of destiny or divine will4 ,the former view of man and the world we may conveniently call natural1 because the only view that mere observation can give us2 the latter ideal1 because making observation posterior to something given in thought4 ,e4 ,,tragedy ,,and ,,the ,,novel #af4 ,the tragedian1 then1 idealises1 because he starts from within4 ,he reaches1 as it were1 the central fire1 in the heat of which every separate faculty1 every animal want1 every fortuitous incident is melted down and lost4 ,we never could observe in actual experience passion such as ,lear's1 or meditation such as ,hamlet's1 fusing everything else into itself4 ,facts at every step would interfere to prevent such a possibility4 ,but let us place ourselves1 by the poet's help1 within the soul of ,lear or ,hamlet1 and we shall be able to follow the process by which the spiritual power1 taking the form of passion in the one1 and of thought in the other1 and working outwards1 draws everything into its own unity1 according to the same activity of which1 however impeded by the imperfections of matter1 we are conscious in ourselves4 ,the incidents of the tragedy are wholly subordinate1 issuing either from this spiritual energy of the actors on the one hand1 or1 on the other1 from destiny1 to whose throne the poet penetrates4 ,they thus present an aspect entirely different from that of events which we approach from without4 ,the novel1 on the contrary1 starts from the outside4 ,its main texture is a web of incidents through which the motions of the spirit must be discerned1 if discerned at all4 ,these incidents must be probable1 must be such as are consistent with the observed sequences of the world4 ,the view of man1 therefore1 which we attain through them1 can only be that which is attainable by observation of outward actions and events2 or1 in other words1 according to the distinction which we have attempted to establish1 it is the natural view1 not the ideal4 ,its character corresponds to its origin4 ,observation shows us man not as self-determined1 but as the creature of circumstances1 as a phenomenon among other phenomena4 ,as such1 too1 he is presented to us in the novel4 ,we do not see him1 as in tragedy1 standing in the strength of his own spirit1 remaking the world by its power1 determined by it for good or evil1 dependent on it for all that may be attractive or repellent about him4 ,the hero of a novel attracts in part by his physiognomy1 his manner1 or even his dress2 his character is qualified by circumstances and society2 his impulses vary according to the impressions of outward things2 he is the sport of fortune1 dependent for weal or woe on the acquisition of some external blessing which the development of the plot may or may not bestow on him4 ,as circumstances make his life what it is1 so the particular combination of circumstances1 called happiness1 constitutes its end4 ,instead of losing his merely personal and particular self1 as in the catastrophe of a tragedy1 he satisfies it with its appropriate pleasure4 ,he that loveth wife or children more than me1 is not worthy of me1 are the words of the ,author of the ,christian life4 ,marry1 enjoy domestic bliss1 and thou hast attained the end of virtue--such is the ordinary moral of the ordinary novel2 nay1 the only consistent moral of the consistent novel4 ,as the novelist sows1 so must he reap2 as his plot is1 such must its consummation be4 ,in the body of the work he must1 from the nature of the case1 represent men as they appear in fact1 and he cannot fitly round it off by representing them as they are only in idea4 ,he cannot step at pleasure from one sphere of art to another2 by attempting to do so he destroys the harmony without which there is no art at all1 and leaves us with a sense of dissatisfaction and unreality4 ,the reader1 who through the whole three volumes till close upon the end has been travelling in an atmosphere of ordinary morality and every-day aspiration1 knows not how in the last chapter to breathe the air of a higher life4 ,f4 ,,the ,,epic ,,and ,,the ,,novel #ag4 ,it may be objected to this limitation of the capabilities of the novel1 that it must stand on the same footing with the epic poem1 which is no less made up of a texture of incident1 and which1 therefore1 according to the present argument1 can only reach the springs of man's actions from without4 ,such an objection has some truth with reference to the ,homeric poems4 ,these1 as we have seen1 have the legendary narrative for their primitive element1 and in so far as they are merely a reflex of ,greek life in the ,homeric age1 their interest is that of a novel1 not properly of the epic4 ,the true epic 7of which the ,paradise ,lost would seem to be a less mixed form than the ,iliad or ,odyssey71 no less than tragedy1 seizes the idea of a self-determined spirit on the one hand1 and of destiny or divine law on the other4 ,these are the primary springs from which it makes action and incident issue1 with a perfect subordination which the laws of our lower nature and of social life must prevent from being realised in the world of experience1 and which the novelist therefore1 tied down to the world of experience1 only offends us by attempting to exhibit4 ,the essential character of the novel is not changed by its assumption of the form of a romance4 ,in the romantic world of the middle ages1 the great ,italian poets did indeed find their materials4 ,to their eyes it was a world in which hope and wonder might roam at large3 it furnished actions which1 glorified by them1 became manifestations of the divine and heroic in man4 ,but it is another world as seen by the novelist1 even by such a one as ,walter ,scott4 ,the romantic life which he depicts is simply the life which we see our own neighbors live1 with more picturesque situations1 with more to excite curiosity in the reader1 and activity in the imaginary hero4 ,we gain more from him1 it is true1 than from those copies of the too familiar faces around us which are the staple commodity in novels of the day4 ,he at least carries us into scenes of adventure1 where we may forget the smooth tale of our nineteenth-century life4 ,but further he cannot go1 for he approaches men from without4 ,he does not reach1 by other methods than observation1 to any a priori affection of the spirit1 and to this subordinate incident4 ,had he done so1 he could not have uttered himself in the language of common life4 ,in the world of heroes or angels1 i4e41 of men idealised1 to which the epic poet raises us1 he sustains us by the power of verse4 ,the exalted action and the poetic expression are as essentially correlative in the epic1 as are the natural incident and the prosaic expression in the novel4 ,g4 ,,poetry ,,and ,,prose #ah4 ,the hostility of ,wordsworth to the poetic diction of his time rested on principles of which he scarcely seems himself to have been conscious4#ae ,the poets of the last century had lost the genuine sense of their high calling4 ,their productions for the most part were1 at best1 practical philosophy in verse4 ,they observed the outer aspect of things1 and to make their observations poetry they clothed them in poetic diction1 which thus became offensive1 because artificial--because a superadded ornament1 and not the natural expression of exalted passion or the emotion which accompanies our passage behind the veil4 ,repugnance to this artificiality misled ,wordsworth into the celebrated assertion that between the language of prose and that of metrical composition1 there neither is1 nor can be1 any essential difference3 an assertion which1 as prompted by a feeling of the incompatibility of poetic language with prosaic thought1 is really a witness to the essential antithesis between poetry and prose4 ,verse is simple1 harmonious1 and unfamiliar4 ,it is thus the fitting organ for that energy of thought which simplifies the phenomena of life by referring them to a spiritual principle2 which blends its shifting colours in the light of a master-passion1 and passes from the contradictory data of the common understanding to the unity of a deeper consciousness4 ,even the spiritualist philosopher1 no less than the poet1 would have to speak in verse1 if1 instead of making statements1 he portrayed3 if1 besides asserting that all things are to be seen in ,god1 he sought to excite in the reader the emotion appropriate to the sight4 ,prose is the oratio soluta4 ,it is complex1 irregular1 inharmonious4 ,it thus corresponds to the natural or phenomenal view of life2 the view of it1 that is1 in its diversity1 as qualified in innumerable modes by animal wants and apparent accident1 and not harmonised by the action of the spirit4#af ,the novelist must express himself in prose1 because this is his view of life3 and this must be his view of life1 because he thus expresses himself4 ,it is indeed a view which may vary according to the circumstances of the case1 but only within definite limits4 ,there is an earnestness about some of our modern novelists1 ,miss ,bront for instance1 which would have seemed out of place to those of fifty years ago2 but this is merely because the life they see around them is more earnest4 ,it presents to them scenes of sterner significance than were to be found among the coquetry and dissipation of the fashionable world or the dull courtesies of a country house4 ,but that they do not transcend this outward life we have one crucial proof4 ,just in so far as each of us learns to regard his own individual being from within1 and not from without1 does he discard dependence on happiness as arising from external circumstances1 and becomes already in idea1 as he tends to become in reality1 his own world and his own law4 ,no novelist attains to the assertion of this spiritual prerogative4 ,as we follow in sympathy the story of his hero1 we find ourselves lifted up and cast down as fortune changes1 our life brightening as the clouds break above1 and darkening as they close again4 ,if the author chooses to disappoint us with a bad ending1 he leaves us1 not as we are left at the conclusion of a tragedy1 purified from personal desires1 but vexed and sorrowful1 sadder but not wiser men4 ,,footnotes3 #ae ,humble and rustic life was generally chosen1 because in that condition the essential passions of the heart find a better soil in which they can attain their maturity1 are less under restraint1 and speak a plainer and more emphatic language2 because in that condition of life our elementary feelings co-exist in a state of greater simplicity1 and1 consequently1 may be more accurately contemplated1 and more forcibly communicated4444 ,the language1 too1 of these men has been adopted 7purified indeed from what appear to be its real defects1 from all lasting and rational causes of dislike or disgust71 because such men hourly communicate with the best objects from which the best part of language is originally derived2 and because1 from their rank in society and the sameness and narrow circle of their intercourse1 being less under the influence of social vanity1 they convey their feelings and notions in simple and unelaborated expressions4 ,accordingly1 such a language arising out of repeated experience and regular feeling1 is a more permanent1 and a far more philosophical language1 than that which is frequently substituted for it by ,poets1 who think that they are conferring honor upon themselves and their art in proportion as they separate themselves from the sympathies of men1 and indulge in arbitrary and capricious habits of expression1 in order to furnish food for fickle tastes and fickle appetites of their own creation4--,wordsworth1 ,preface to the ',lyrical ,ballads4' #af ,on the relations of prose and poetry1 see ,alden's ',an introduction to ,poetry1' pp4 #bc-bh1 #abh-ach1 #afj-afd1 and the references there given4 ,h4 ,,the ,,novel ,,an ,,incomplete ,,presentation ,,of ,,life #ai4 ,by the mere explanation of the difference between the ideal and the natural1 the poetic and novelistic1 views of the world1 we may seem to have already settled the question as to the beneficial effects of each4 ,the question1 be it observed1 is not as to the comparative influence of the discipline of art and that of real life4 ,the man who seeks his entire culture in art of any kind will soon find the old antagonism between speculation and action begin to appear4 ,there will be a chasm1 which he cannot fill1 between his life in the closet and his life in the world2 his impotence to carry his thought into act will limit and weaken the thought itself4 ,but this ill result will equally ensue1 whether the art in which he finds his nurture be that of the novelist or that of the poet4 ,the novel-reader sees human action pass before him like a panorama1 but he feels none of its pains and penalties2 his fancy feeds on its pleasures1 but he has not to face the struggle of resistance to pleasure1 or the suffering which follows on indulgence4 ,nor is it merely from that weakness of effect which1 in one sense1 must always belong to representation as opposed to reality1 that the novel suffers4 ,the representation itself is incomplete4 ,the novelist1 like every other artist1 must abridge and select4 ,for many of the elements whose action builds up our human soul1 there is no place in his canvas4 ,a great part of the discipline of life arises simply from its slowness4 ,the long years of patient waiting and silent labor1 the struggle with listlessness and pain1 the loss of time by illness1 the hope deferred1 the doubt that lays hold on delay--these are the tests of that pertinacity in man which is but a step below heroism4 ,the exhibition of them in the novel1 however1 is prevented by that rapidity of movement which is essential to its fascination2 and hence to one whose acquaintance with life was derived simply from novels1 its main business would be unknown4 ,they are perhaps more brought home to us by ,defoe than by any other writer of fiction2 but this is due to that very deficiency of artistic power which makes his agglomeration of details#ag such heavy reading to all but school-boys4 ,,footnote3 #ag ,modern criticism inclines to the view that ,defoe's agglomeration of details is the result of high and conscious art4 ,if ',robinson ,crusoe' were kept away from schoolboys it would doubtless be read pleasurably by adults4 ,i4 ,,prudence ,,the ,,novelist',s ,,highest ,,morality #bj4 ,the novel1 then1 as being a work of art1 must fail to teach the lesson of life in its completeness3 as an inferior work of art1 it has peculiar weaknesses of its own4 ,however extensive the influence of the literature of fiction may have been1 its intensity has been in inverse proportion4 ,a great poem1 once made our own1 abides with us for ever4 ,amid the fretful stir ,unprofitable1 and the fever of the world1#ah the spirit1 returning to it1 may gain a fresh assurance of its own birthright1 and purify itself1 as in a river of ,lethe1 for an ideal transition to its proper home4 ,the novel1 itself the reflex of the fretful stir unprofitable1 can exercise no such power4 ,it can but make us more at home in the region from which a great poem transports us4 ,the value of that experience of the world1 which it is its object to impart1 is commonly overrated in our day4 ,in the form in which it is imparted by the novelist1 we have perhaps had too much of it without his aid4 ,our external environment is quite enough in our thoughts3 we are not too reluctant to admit that we are what we seem to be1 dependent for good or evil on circumstances which we do not make for ourselves4 ,this dependence is in itself1 no doubt1 a fact2 but it ceases to be so for us when we contemplate it in forgetfulness of that spring of potential freedom which underlies it1 and of the law of duty correlative to freedom4 ,to the exclusive consideration of it we owe those profitless recipes for eliciting moral health from circumstances which are the plague of modern literature1 and which one of our ablest writers has lately condescended to dispense1 in an essay on organisation in daily life4 ,this circumstantial view of life1 if we may use the term1 being the only one that the novelist can convey1 prudence is his highest morality4 ,but it may be doubted whether prudence is what any one has great need to learn4 ,the plain man1 who fronting circumstances boldly on the one hand1 looks reverently to the stern face of duty on the other1 can dispense with its maxims4 ,for the moral valetudinarian small benefit is to be gained from a doctor who will ,read each wound1 each weakness clear1 ,will strike his finger on the place ,and say1 ',thou ailest here and here'4#ai ,it is far better for him1 instead of poring over a detail of the causes and symptoms of the disease which he hugs1 to be stimulated to an effort in which1 though it be but temporary1 ecstatic1 and for an end not actually attainable1 he may at least forget the disease altogether4 ,such a stimulus a great poem may afford him2 but in the whole expanse of novel-literature he merely sees his own sickly experience modified in an infinite variety of reflections1 till he fancies that the strange disease of modern life is the proper constitution of ,god's universe4 ,,footnotes3 #ah ,when the fretful stir ,unprofitable1 and the fever of the world ,have hung upon the beatings of my heart4 --,wordsworth1 ',tintern ,abbey4' #ai ,matthew ,arnold's ',memorial ,verses1' lines #bj-bb1 adapted to the context4 ,j4 ,,evil ,,effects ,,of ,,novel-,,reading #ba4 ,novel-reading thus aggravates two of the worst maladies of modern times1 self-consciousness and want of reverence4 ,many a man in these days1 instead of doing some sound piece of work for mankind1 spends his time in explaining to himself why it is that he does not do it1 and how1 after all1 he is superior to those who do4 ,even men of a higher sort never seem to forget themselves in their work4 ,our popular writers generally take the reader into confidence as to their private feelings as they go along2 our men of action are burdened by a sense of their reputation with intelligent circles4 ,no one loses himself in a cause4 ,scarcely understanding what is meant by a divine indifference as to the fate of individual existences in the evolution of ,god's plan1 we weary heaven with complaints that we find the world contrary1 or that we cannot satisfy ourselves with a theory of life4 ,thus measuring ourselves by ourselves1 and comparing ourselves among ourselves1 we are not wise4 ,the novel furnishes the standard for the measurement1 and the data for the comparison4 ,it presents us with a series of fictitious experiences1 in the light of which we read our own1 and become more critically conscious of them4 ,instead of idealising life1 if we may so express ourselves1 it sentimentalises it4 ,it does not subordinate incidents to ideas2 yet it does not treat them simply as phenomena to excite curiosity1 but as misfortunes or blessings to excite sentiment4 ,the writer of the ,mill on the ,floss reaches almost the tragic pitch towards the close of her book1 and if she had been content to leave us with the death of the heroine and her brother#bj in the flood1 we might have supposed that in this case1 as representing the annihilation of human passion in the struggle with destiny1 the novelist had indeed attained the ideal view of life4 ,but the novelistic instinct does not allow her to do so4 ,at the conclusion we are shown the other chief actors standing1 with appropriate emotions1 over the heroine's grave1 and thus find that the catastrophe has not really been the manifestation of an idea1 but an occasion of sentiment4 ,the habitual novel-reader1 from thus looking sentimentally at the fictitious life which is the reflex of his own1 soon comes to look sentimentally at himself4 ,he thinks his personal joys and sorrows of interest to angels and men2 and instead of gazing with awe and exultation upon the world1 as a theatre for the display of ,god's glory and the unknown might of man1 he sees in it merely an organism for affecting himself with pains and pleasures4 ,thus regarded1 it must needs lose its claim on his reverence1 for it is narrowed to the limits of his own consciousness4 ,conversant with present life in all its outward aspects1 he forgets the infinite spaces which lie around and above it4 ,this confinement of view1 which among the more intelligent appears merely as disbelief in the possibilities of man1 takes a more offensive form in the complacent blindness of ordinary minds4 ,we have no wish to disparage our own age in comparison with any that have preceded it4 ,young men have always been ignorant1 and ignorance has always been conceited4 ,there is1 however1 this difference4 ,the ignorant young men of past time1 such as the five sons of ,sir ,hildebrand ,osbaldistone1#ba knew that they were ignorant1 but thought it no shame3 the ignorant young men of our days1 with the miscellaneous knowledge of life which they derive from the popular novelists1 fancy themselves wiser than the aged4 ,whoever be the philosopher1 the coxcomb nowadays will answer him not merely with a grin1 but with a joke which he has still in lavender from ,dickens or his imitators4 ,the comic aspect of life is indeed plain enough to see1 nor is the merely pathetic much less obvious2 but there is little good in looking at either4 ,it is far easier to laugh or to weep than to think2 to give either a ludicrous or sentimental turn to a great principle of morals or religion than to enter into its real meaning4 ,but the vulgar reader of our comic novelists1 when he has learnt from them a jest or a sentiment for every occasion of life1 fancies that nothing more remains unseen and unsaid4 ,,footnotes3 #bj ,lover in the original text of the essay4 ,the error does not much affect the argument4 #ba ,in ,scott's ',rob ,roy4' ,,iii4 ,,true ,,function ,,of ,,the ,,novel ,a4 ,a ,,widener ,,of ,,experience #bb4 ,but there is another side to this question which we must not allow ourselves to overlook4 ,we have shown what the novel cannot do1 and its ill effect on those who trust to it for their culture4 ,we must not forget that it has a proper work of its own which1 if modern progress be anything more than a euphemism1 must be a work for good4 ,least of all should it be depreciated by the student1 who may find in it deliverance from the necessary confinement of his actual life4 ,for the production of poetic effect1 as we have seen1 large abstraction is necessary4 ,it is with man in the purity of his inward being1 with nature in its simple greatness1 that the poet deals4 ,the glory which he casts on life is far higher than any which the novelist knows1 but it is only on certain of the elements of life that it can be cast at all4 ,the novelist works on a far wider field4 ,with choice of subject and situation he scarcely need trouble himself1 except in regard to his own intellectual qualifications4 ,wherever human thought is free1 and human character can display itself1 whether in the servants' hall or the drawing-room1 whether in the country mansion or the back alley1 he may find his materials4 ,he is thus a great expander of sympathies2 and if he cannot help us to make the world our own by the power of ideas1 he at least carries our thought into many a far country of human experience1 which it could not otherwise have reached4 ,we hear much in these days of the sacrifice of the individual to society through professional limitations4 ,in the progressive division of labor1 while we become more useful as citizens1 we seem to lose our completeness as men4 ,the requirements of special study become more exacting1 at the same time that the perfect organisation of modern society removes the excitement of adventure and the occasion for independent effort4 ,there is less of human interest to touch us within our calling1 and we have less leisure to seek it beyond4 ,hence it follows that one who has made the most of his profession is apt to feel that he has not attained his full stature as a man2 that he has faculties which he can never use1 capacities for admiration and affection which can never meet with an adequate object4 ,to this feeling1 probably1 are mainly due our lamentations over a past age of hero-worship and romance1 when action was more decisive and passion a fuller stream4 ,its alleviation1 if not its remedy1 is to be found in the newspaper and the novel4 ,every one indeed must lay in his own experience the foundation of the imaginary world which he rears for himself4 ,there is a primary virtue which cannot be taught4 ,no man can learn from another the meaning of human activity or the possibilities of human emotion4 ,but this ,greek3 pou st being given1 even the cloistered student may find that1 as his soul passes into the strife of social forces and the complication of individual experience1 which the newspaper and the novel severally represent1 his sympathies break from the bondage of his personal situation and reach to the utmost confines of human life4 ,the personal experience and the fictitious act and react on each other1 the personal experience giving reality to the fictitious1 the fictitious expansion to the personal4 ,he need no longer envy the man of action and adventure1 or sigh for new regions of enterprise4 ,the world is all before him4 ,he may explore its recesses without being disturbed by its passions2 and if the end of experience be the knowledge of ,god's garment1 as preliminary to that of ,god ,himself1 his eye may be as well trained for the vision beatific1 as if he had himself been an actor in the scenes to which imagination transfers him4 ,b4 ,,an ,,expander ,,of ,,sympathies #bc4 ,the novelist not only works on more various elements1 he appeals to more ordinary minds than the poet4 ,this indeed is the strongest practical proof of his essential inferiority as an artist4 ,all who are capable of an interest in incidents of life which do not affect themselves1 may feel the same interest more keenly in a novel2 but to those only who can lift the curtain does a poem speak intelligibly4 ,it is the twofold characteristic1 of universal intelligibility and indiscriminate adoption of materials1 that gives the novel its place as the great reformer and leveller of our time4 ,reforming and levelling are indeed more closely allied than we are commonly disposed to admit4 ,social abuses are nearly always the result of defective organisation4 ,the demarcations of family1 of territory1 or of class1 prevent the proper fusion of parts into the whole4 ,the work of the reformer progresses as the social force is brought to bear more and more fully on classes and individuals1 merging distinctions of privilege and position in the one social organism4 ,the novel is one of the main agencies through which this force acts4 ,it gathers up manifold experiences1 corresponding to manifold situations of life2 and subordinating each to the whole1 gives to every particular situation a new character1 as qualified by all the rest4 ,every good novel1 therefore1 does something to check what may be called the despotism of situations2 to prevent that ossification into prejudices arising from situation1 to which all feel a tendency4 ,the general novel literature of any age may be regarded as an assertion by mankind at large1 in its then development1 of its claims1 as against the influence of class and position2 whether that influence appear in the form of positive social injustice1 of oppressive custom1 or simply of deficient sympathy4 #bd4 ,to be what he is1 the novelist must be a man with large powers of sympathetic observation4 ,he must have an eye for the humanities which underlie the estranging barriers of social demarcation1 and in relation to which the influence of those barriers can alone be rightly appreciated4 ,we have already spoken of that acquiescence in the dominion of circumstance1 to which we are all too ready to give way1 and which exclusive novel-reading tends to foster4 ,the circumstances1 however1 whose rule we recognise1 are apt to be merely our own or those of our class4 ,we are blind to other idola than those of our own cave2 we do not understand that the feelings which betray us into indiscretions may1 when differently modified by a different situation1 lead others to game-stealing or trade-outrages4 ,from this narrowness of view the novelist may do much to deliver us4 ,the variations of feeling and action with those of circumstance1 and the essential human identity which these variations cannot touch1 are his special province4 ,he shows us that crime does not always imply sin1 that a social heresy may be the assertion of a native right1 that an offence which leads to conventional outlawry may be merely the rebellion of a generous nature against conventional tyranny4 ,thus1 if he does not do everything1 he does much4 ,though he cannot reveal to us the inner side of life1 he at least gives a more adequate conception of its surface4 ,though he cannot raise us to a point of view from which circumstances appear subordinate to spiritual laws1 he yet saves us from being blinded1 if not from being influenced1 by the circumstances of our own position4 ,though he cannot show the prisoners the way of escape from their earthly confinement1 yet by breaking down the partitions between the cells he enables them to combine their strength for a better arrangement of the prison-house4 ,the most wounding social wrongs more often arise from ignorance than from malice1 from acquiescence in the opinion of a class rather than from deliberate selfishness4 ,the master cannot enter into the feelings of the servant1 nor the servant into those of his master4 ,the master cannot understand how any good quality can lead one to forget his station2 to the servant the spirit of management in the master seems mere driving4 ,this is only a sample of what is going on all society over4 ,the relation between the higher and lower classes becomes irritating1 and therefore injurious1 not from any conscious unfairness on either side1 but simply from the want of a common understanding2 while at the same time every class suffers within its own limits from the prevalence of habits and ideas1 under the authority of class-convention1 which could not long maintain themselves if once placed in the light of general opinion4 ,against this twofold oppression1 the novel1 from its first establishment as a substantive branch of literature1 has made vigorous war4 ,from ,defoe to ,kingsley its history boasts of a noble army of social reformers2 yet the work which these writers have achieved has had little to do with the morals--commonly valueless1 if not false and sentimental--which they have severally believed themselves to convey4 ,defoe's notion of a moral seems to have been the vulgar one that vice must be palpably punished and virtue rewarded2 he recommends his ,moll ,flanders to the reader on the ground that there is not a wicked action in any part of it but is first or last rendered unhappy and#bb unfortunate4 ,the moral of ,fielding's novels1 if moral it can be called1 is simply the importance of that prudence which his heroes might have dispensed with1 but for the wildness of their animal license4 ,yet both ,defoe and ,fielding had a real lesson to teach mankind4 ,the thieves and harlots whom ,defoe prides himself on punishing1 but whose adventures he describes with the minuteness of affection1 are what we ourselves might have been2 and in their histories we hear1 if not the music1 yet the harsh and grating cry of suffering humanity4 ,fielding's merit is of the same kind2 but the sympathies which he excites are more general1 as his scenes are more varied1 than those of ,defoe4 ,his coarseness is everywhere redeemed by a genuine feeling for the contumelious buffets to which weakness is exposed4 ,he has the practical insight of ,dickens and ,thackeray1 without their infusion of sentiment4 ,he does not moralise over the contrast between the rich man's law and the poor man's1 over the indifference of rural justice1 over the lying and adultery of fashionable life4 ,he simply makes us see the facts1 which are everywhere under our eyes1 but too close to us for discernment4 ,he shows society where its sores lie1 appealing from the judgment of the diseased class itself to that public intelligence which1 in spite of the cynic's sneer on the task of producing an honesty from the combined action of knaves1 has really power to over-ride private selfishness4 ,the same sermon has found many preachers since1 the unconscious missionaries being perhaps the greatest4 ,scott was a ,tory of the purest water4 ,his mind was busy with the revival of a pseudo-feudalism3 no thought of reforming abuses probably ever entered it4 ,yet his genial human insight made him a reformer against his will4 ,he who makes man better known to man takes the first steps toward healing the wounds which man inflicts on man4 ,the permanent value of ,scott's novels lies in his pictures of the ,scotch peasantry4 ,he popularised the work which the ,lake poets had begun1 of re-opening the primary springs of human passion4 ,love he had found in huts where poor men lie1 and he announced the discovery2 teaching the world of ,english gentry what for a century and a half they had seemed to forget1 that the human soul1 in its strength no less than in its weakness1 is independent of the accessories of fortune4 ,he left no equals1 but the combined force of his successors has been constantly growing in practical effect4 ,they have probably done more than the journalists to produce that improvement in the organisation of modern life which leads to the notion that1 because social grievances are less obvious1 they have ceased to exist4 ,the novelist catches the cry of suffering before it has obtained the strength1 or general recognition1 which are pre-supposed when the newspaper becomes its mouthpiece4 ,the miseries of the marriage-market had been told by ,thackeray1 with almost wearisome iteration1 many years before they found utterance in the columns of the ,times4 ,,footnote3 #bb ,or in ,green's text4 ,c4 ,a ,,creator ,,of ,,public ,,sentiment #be4 ,it may indeed be truly said that1 after all1 human selfishness is much the same as it ever was2 that luxury still drowns sympathy2 that riches and poverty have still their old estranging influence4 ,the novel1 as has been shown1 cannot give a new birth to the spirit1 or initiate the effort to transcend the separations of place and circumstance2 but it is no small thing that it should remove the barriers of ignorance and antipathy which would otherwise render the effort unavailing4 ,it at least brings man nearer to his neighbor1 and enables each class to see itself as others see it4 ,and from the fusion of opinions and sympathies thus produced1 a general sentiment is elicited1 to which oppression of any kind1 whether of one class by another1 or of individuals by the tyranny of sectarian custom1 seldom appeals in vain4 ,d4 ,a ,,leveller ,,of ,,intellects #bf4 ,the novelist is a leveller also in another sense than that of which we have already spoken4 ,he helps to level intellects as well as situations4 ,he supplies a kind of literary food which the weakest natures can assimilate as well as the strongest1 and by the consumption of which the former sort lose much of their weakness and the latter much of their strength4 ,while minds of the lower order acquire from novel-reading a cultivation which they previously lacked1 the higher seem proportionately to sink4 ,they lose that aspiring pride which arises from the sense of walking in intellect on the necks of a subject crowd2 they no longer feel the bracing influence of living solely among the highest forms of art2 they become conformed insensibly1 to the general opinion which the new literature of the people creates4 ,a similar change is going on in every department of man's activity4 ,the history of thought in its artistic form is parallel to its history in its other manifestations4 ,the spirit descends1 that it may rise again2 it penetrates more and more widely into matter1 that it may make the world more completely its own4 ,political life seems no longer attractive1 now that political ideas and power are disseminated among the mass1 and the reason is recognised as belonging not to a ruling caste merely1 but to all4 ,a statesman in a political society resting on a substratum of slavery1 and admitting no limits to the province of government1 was a very different person from the modern servant of a nation of shopkeepers1 whose best work is to save the pockets of the poor4 ,it would seem as if man lost his nobleness when he ceased to govern1 and as if the equal rule of all was equivalent to the rule of none4 ,yet we hold fast to the faith that the cultivation of the masses1 which has for the present superseded the development of the individual1 will in its maturity produce some higher type even of individual manhood than any which the old world has known4 ,we may rest on the same faith in tracing the history of literature4 ,in the novel we must admit that the creative faculty has taken a lower form than it held in the epic and the tragedy4 ,but since in this form it acts on more extensive material and reaches more men1 we may well believe that this temporary declension is preparatory to some higher development1 when the poet shall idealise life without making abstraction of any of its elements1 and when the secret of existence1 which he now speaks to the inward ear of a few1 may be proclaimed on the house-tops to the common intelligence of mankind4 ,,appendix ,a4 ,,an ,,appreciation ,,of ,,green',s ,,essay ,it is interesting to see how the leading ideas in his ,green's mind governed the treatment of an apparently alien material in his last piece of academic work1 the essay on novels1 which gained the ,chancellor's prize in #ahfb4 ,the essay has also the additional interest of being almost the only record of his views on art and its relation to life4 ,the fundamental conception upon which it is based is one with which we have already met4 ,the world in its truth is a unity1 governed by a single law1 animated by an undivided life1 a whole in every part4 ,but to human apprehension it is fragmentary and mechanical1 a chaos of elements of which each is external to the other and all are external to our minds1 and in which chance tempered by familiarity seems to be the only law4 ,to exceptional men1 or at exceptional crises in life1 in the moments of intense insight or emotion which philosophy calls knowledge and religion faith1 the weight of custom falls away1 the truth breaks through the veil1 and the most trivial object or accident comes to reflect in itself the whole system of nature or the whole providence of ,god4 ,at such moments man realises that in order to live he must die1 that in order to be free he must obey1 and that only by surrendering his fancied independence can he enter into the divine unity4 ,to this liberation of the self from its own bondage art contributes its share4 ,the poetic genius1 like the speculative and the religious1 penetrates the monotonous disorder of everyday life1 and lays bare the impassioned expression which is there for those who can read it4 ,the dramatist1 for instance1 with whom the novelist is here compared1 shows us some elemental force of humanity1 stripped of the accidents of time and place1 working itself out in free conflict with other forces1 and finally breaking itself against the eternal fact that no man can gain the world without first losing himself4 ,it is this catastrophe which makes the real tragedy of life2 it is this which the tragic poet has the eye to see and the words to portray2 and in proportion as we can follow him in imagination1 we come away from the spectacle with our own hearts broken and purged1 but strengthened to face the fact and obey the law4 ,the novelist does with inferior means1 and for minds at a lower level1 what the dramatist may do for a mind at its highest4 ,he idealises enough to make us feel pleasure or pain1 not enough to make us forget ourselves4 ,he excites curiosity or suspense1 not awe or hope4 ,if the novel ends well1 it flatters our complacency with the feeling that the world as it is is not such a bad place after all2 if it ends badly1 it strengthens the indolent conviction that aimless misery is the law of the universe4 ,there are however two ways in which novels may be of real service and value4 ,if they cannot teach men how to live1 they may1 through the wide range of their subjects1 enable those who have already found a principle of life to give it a freer application than their limited circumstances would otherwise allow2 the fictitious experience may give expansion to the personal1 while the personal gives reality to the fictitious1 and thus may be mitigated that sacrifice of the individual to society which the modern division of labor tends to bring about4 ,and secondly1 by appealing to such various classes and capacities1 and exhibiting the identity of human nature under such various circumstances1 novels supply a vehicle through which the force of public opinion may work1 fusing differences1 breaking down prejudices1 and checking the despotism of situations4 ,the essay concludes characteristically with the refusal to believe that democracy is necessarily unpoetic4 ,as we hold fast to the faith that the 'cultivation of the masses1' which has for the present superseded the development of the individual1 will in its maturity produce some higher type of individual manhood than any which the old world has known1 so1 though in the novel the creative faculty has taken a lower form than it held in the epic and the tragedy1 we may well believe that this temporary declension is preparatory to some higher development1 when the poet shall idealise life without making abstraction of any of its elements1 and when the secret of existence1 which he now speaks to the inward ear of a few1 may be proclaimed on the housetops to the common intelligence of mankind4 ,readers of the essay who are also novel-readers will be inclined to say that the writer was not much in sympathy with his subject2 and he himself1 on getting the prize1 remarks that it is curious that ,i should have been successful in an essay on novels1 about which ,i know and care little1 and should have failed in both my efforts in theology1 for which ,i care considerably4 ,at the same time it is probably true1 as he once said1 that he had read more novels than his friends gave him credit for1 and it is certainly true that what his reading lacked in extent it made up in intensity4 ,as might be supposed1 his taste in fiction was for forcible delineation and robust humor4 ,the flavor of strong1 healthy individuality was what attracted him2 for rarities1 niceties1 and abnormalities of mental organisation he cared nothing4 ,he liked things which he could take hold of with his mind1 not things which merely gave him sensations1 pleasant or painful4 ,both in his deepest and his lightest moods he was absolutely simple and above board1 and this simplicity made him keenly alive to the proximity of the sublime to the ridiculous or the exquisite to the grotesque4 ,though he had little of the animal in him1 and was never troubled by his appetites1 he was quite free from prudery4 ,if obscenity moved him at all1 it was to frank laughter or to grim contempt2 he never dwelt upon it1 either in the way of enjoyment or loathing4 ,for rules of ascetic discipline1 says a friend1 he had no need4 ,the view of life suggested by so much of the best ,french literature1 that thinking men are generally in a practical dilemma between the extremes of sensual excess and of spiritual exaltation1 did not commend itself to him in the least4 ,the only forms of art to which he was keenly susceptible were those of oratory and poetry4 ,he had no ear for music1 though he seemed to get a certain exaltation from listening to it4 ,in regard to painting and sculpture he always professed himself incompetent1 but he was not without decided tastes4 ,on his first visit to the ,continent he was more attracted by ,rembrandt1 ,holbein1 and ,drer than by the ,italians2 these men1 he said1 grasped the idea of ,christianity4 ,of ,durer's four saints at ,munich he writes1 ,i could contemplate them with interest for hours2 he has contrived to give ,st4 ,john an almost perfect expression of 'divine philosophy'4 ,in later years when he went to ,italy he spent a good deal of time in looking at early ,italian pictures1 and admitted that they would soon have got a great hold upon him4 ,but on the whole his attitude to the arts 7excluding those of language7 was one of deferential ignorance4 ,he had not himself any artistic gifts2 he did not even write verses4 ,yet to his friends1 as one of them says1 he never represented the prose of existence4 ,with all his gravity1 with all his firm grip on fact and material interests1 he had the enthusiastic movement of the world's poetry in him4--,from the ,memoir by ,r4 ,l4 ,nettleship1 ,green's ',works1' ,vol4 #c1 pp4 xxx-xxxiii4 ,b4 ,,hegel ,,on ,,the ,,novel ,among the mongrel forms of epic should be included the half descriptive1 half lyric poems which were popular among the ,english1 dealing chiefly with nature1 the seasons of the year1 etc4 ,there belong also to this division numerous didactic poems in which a prosaic content is dressed up in poetic form1 such as compendiums of physics1 astronomy1 and medicine1 and treatises on chess1 fishing1 hunting1 and the conduct of life4 ,poems of this sort were most artfully elaborated by the later ,greeks1 by the ,romans1 and1 in modern times1 especially by the ,french4 ,despite their general epic tone1 they lend themselves readily to lyric treatment4 ,more poetical1 but still without the characteristics necessary for definite classification1 are romances and ballads4 ,being epic in content but lyric in treatment1 these products of the ,middle ,ages and of modern times may be assigned to either class indifferently4 ,the case of the novel1 the modern popular epic1 is very different4 ,here we find the same wealth and variety of interests1 circumstances1 characters1 and human relationships1 the same world-background1 and the same handling of events1 that characterize the true epic4 ,but there is lacking to it the primitive poetic state of the world1 in which the true epic took its rise4 ,the novel1 in the modern acceptation of the term1 presupposes a prosaically ordered reality4 ,but working from the basis of this reality1 and moving within its own circle1 the novel1 both as regards picturesqueness of incident and as regards characters and their fate1 retrieves for poetry 7so far as the above presupposition permits7 her lost prerogatives4#bc ,thus it happens that the struggle between the poetry of the heart and the opposing prose of outward circumstances is for the novel one of the commonest and most suitable conflicts4 ,this struggle may end comically1 or tragically1 or in a reconciliation of the opposing forces4 ,in the last case the characters who at first oppose the ordinary world-order may1 by learning to recognize the true and abiding elements in it1 become reconciled to the existing circumstances1 and take an active part in them2 or1 on the other hand1 they may strip off the prosaic hull from deed and accomplishment1 and thus put in the place of the original prose a reality which is on intimate and friendly terms with beauty and art4 ,as far as the range of representation is concerned1 the true novel1 like the epic1 requires a complete world and a complete view of life1 the many-sided materials and relationships of which exhibit themselves in the particular action that is the nucleus of the whole4 ,as to details of conception and development1 however1 the author must be allowed great liberty1 for it is difficult to bring the prose of real life into the representation without sticking fast in the prosaic and commonplace4--,hegel1 ',aesthetik4' #c4 ,thl41 ,kap4 ,,iii4 ,abt4 #c41 ,s4 #cid-cif4 ,,footnote3 #bc ,in simpler terms3 ,the novel1 being a form of epic1 should have all the characteristics of poetry4 ,but this is impossible because it is compelled to work in the humble field of prose4 ,nevertheless1 by a skilful use of description1 narration1 and dramatic situation1 it causes a poetic oasis to spring up in the desert of prose1 and so wins back some of its poetical rights4