a psychological counter-current in recent fiction-第2部分

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indulges　the　weaker　brethren　with　an　abundance　of　accident　and　a

luxury　of　catastrophe；　which　the　reader　interested　in　the

psychology　of　the　story　may　take　as　little　account　of　as　he

likes。　　Without　so　much　of　them　he　might　have　made　a

sculpturesque　romance　as　clearly　and　nobly　definite　as　〃The

Scarlet　Letter〃；　with　them　he　has　made　a　most　picturesque

romantic　novel。　　His　work；　as　I　began　by　saying；　or　hinting；　is

the　work　of　a　poet；　in　conception；　and　I　wish　that　in　some

details　of　diction　it　were　as　elect　as　the　author's　verse　is。　

But　one　must　not　expect　everything；　and　in　what　it　is；　〃The　Right

of　Way〃　satisfies　a　reasonable　demand　on　the　side　of　literature；

while　it　more　than　meets　a　reasonable　expectation　on　the　side　of

psychological　interest。　　Distinctly　it　marks　an　epoch　in

contemporary　noveling；　and　mounts　far　above　the　average　best

toward　the　day　of　better　things　which　I　hope　it　is　not　rash　to

image　dawning。



II。　



I　am　sure　I　do　not　merely　fancy　the　auroral　light　in　a　group　of

stories　by　another　poet。　〃The　Ruling　Passion；〃　Dr。　Henry　Van　Dyke

calls　his　book；　which　relates　itself　by　a　double　tie　to　Mr。

Parker's　novel　through　kinship　of　Canadian　landscape　and

character；　and　through　the　prevalence　of　psychologism　over

determinism　in　it。　　In　the　situations　and　incidents　studied　with

sentiment　that　saves　itself　from　sentimentality　sometimes　with

greater　and　sometimes　with　less　ease；　but　saves　itself；　the

appeal　is　from　the　soul　in　the　character　to　the　soul　in　the

reader；　and　not　from　brute　event　to　his　sensation。　　I　believe

that　I　like　best　among　these　charming　things　the　two

sketchesthey　are　hardly　stories〃A　Year　of　Nobility〃　and　〃The

Keeper　of　the　Dight；〃　though　if　I　were　asked　to　say　why；　I　should

be　puzzled。　　Perhaps　it　is　because　I　find　in　the　two　pieces　named

a　greater　detachment　than　I　find　in　some　others　of　Dr。　Van　Dyke's

delightful　volume；　and　greater　evidence　that　he　has　himself　so

thoroughly　and　finally　mastered　his　material　that　he　is　no　longer

in　danger　of　being　unduly　affected　by　it。　　That　is　a　danger　which

in　his　very　quality　of　lyrical　poet　he　is　most　liable　to；　for　he

is　above　all　a　lyrical　poet；　and　such　drama　as　the　chorus　usually

comments　is　the　drama　next　his　heart。　　The　pieces；　in　fact；　are

so　many　idyls；　and　their　realism　is　an　effect　which　he　has　felt

rather　than　reasoned　his　way　to。　　It　is　implicational　rather　than

intentional。　　It　is　none　the　worse　but　all　the　better　on　that

account；　and　I　cannot　say　that　the　psychologism　is　the　worse　for

being　frankly；　however　uninsistently；　moralized。　　A　humor；

delicate　and　genuine　as　the　poetry　of　the　stories；　plays　through

them；　and　the　milde　macht　of　sympathy　with　everything　human

transfers　to　the　pleasant　pages　the　foresters　and　fishermen　from

their　native　woods　and　waters。　　Canada　seems　the　home　of

primitive　character；　the　seventeenth　century　survives　there　among

the　habitants；　with　their　steadfast　faith；　their　picturesque

superstitions；　their　old　world　traditions　and　their　new　world

customs。　　It　is　the　land　not　only　of　the　habitant；　but　of　his

oversoul；　the　good　cure；　and　his　overlord　the　seigneur；　now　faded

economically；　but　still　lingering　socially　in　the　scene　of　his

large　possessions。　　Their　personality　imparts　a　charm　to　the　many

books　about　them　which　at　present　there　seems　to　be　no　end　to　the

making　of；　and　such　a　fine　touch　as　Dr。　Van　Dyke's　gives　us　a

likeness　of　them；　which　if　it　is　idealized　is　idealized　by

reservation；　not　by　attribution。



　

III。　



Mr。　William　Allen　White's　method　is　the　reverse　of　Dr。　Van

Dyke's。　　If　he　has　held　his　hand　anywhere　the　reader　does　not

suspect　it；　for　it　seems；　with　its　relentless　power　of

realization；　to　be　laid　upon　the　whole　political　life　of　Kansas；

which　it　keeps　in　a　clutch　so　penetrating；　so　comprehensive；　that

the　reader　does　not　quite　feel　his　own　vitals　free　from　it。　　Very

likely；　it　does　not　grasp　the　whole　situation；　after　all；　it　is　a

picture；　not　a　map；　that　Mr。　White　has　been　making；　and　the

photograph　itself；　though　it　may　include；　does　not　represent

everything。　　Some　years　ago　there　was　a　silly　attempt　to　reproach

the　true　painters　of　manners　by　calling　them　photographic；　but　I

doubt　if　even　then　Mr。　White　would　have　minded　any　such　censure

of　his　conscientious　work；　and　I　am　sure　that　now　he　would　count

it　honor。　　He　cannot　be　the　admirable　artist　he　is　without

knowing　that　it　is　the　inwardness　as　well　as　the　outwardness　of

men　that　he　photographs；　and　if　the　reader　does　not　know　it；　the

worse　for　the　reader。　　He　is　not　the　sort　of　reader　who　will　rise

from　this　book　humiliated　and　fortified；　as　any　reader　worthy　of

it　will。



The　author　has　put　his　best　foot　forward　in　the　opening　story；

〃The　Man　on　Horseback；〃　which；　when　I　read　it　a　few　years　ago　in

the　magazine　where　it　first　appeared；　seemed　to　me　so　perfect　in

its　way　that　I　should　not　have　known　how　to　better　it。　　Of

course；　this　is　a　good　deal　for　a　critic　to　say；　it　is　something

like　abdicating　his　office；　but　I　repeat　it。　　It　takes　rather

more　courage　for　a　man　to　be　honest　in　fiction　than　out　of　it；

for　people　do　not　much　expect　it　of　him；　or　altogether　like　it　in

him；　but　in　〃The　Man　on　Horseback〃　Mr。　White　is　at　every　moment

honest。　　He　is　honest；　if　not　so　impressively　honest；　in　the

other　stories；　〃A　Victory　for　the　People；〃　〃A　Triumph's

Evidence；〃　〃The　Mercy　of　Death；〃　and　〃A　Most　Lamentable　Comedy；〃

and　where　he　fails　of　perfect　justice　to　his　material；　I　think　it

is　because　of　his　unconscious　political　bias；　rather　than

anything　wilfuller。　　In　the　story　last　named　this　betrays　itself

in　his　treatment　of　a　type　of　man　who　could　not　be　faithful　to

any　sort　of　movement；　and　whose　unfaithfulness　does　not

necessarily　censure　the　movement　Mr。　White　dislikes。　　Wonderfully

good　as　the　portrait　of　Dan　Gregg　is；　it　wants　the　final　touch

which　could　have　come　only　from　a　little　kindness。　　His　story

might　have　been　called　〃The　Man　on　Foot；〃　by　the　sort　of

antithesis　which　I　should　not　blame　Mr。　White　for　scorning；　and　I

should　not　say　anything　of　it　worse　than　that　it　is　pitilessly

hard；　which　the　story　of　〃The　Man　on　Horseback〃　is　not；　or　any　of

the　other　stories。　　Sentimentality　of　any　kind　is　alien　to　the

author's　nature；　but　not　tenderness；　especially　that　sparing　sort

which　gives　his　life　to　the　man　who　is　down。



Most　of　the　men　whom　Mr。　White　deals　with　are　down；　as　most　men

in　the　struggle　of　life　are。　　Few　of　us　can　be　on　top　morally；

almost　as　few　as　can　be　on　top　materially；　and　probably　nothing

will　more　surprise　the　saints　at　the　judgment　day　than　to　find

themselves　in　such　a　small　minority。　　But　probably　not　the　saints

alone　will　be　saved；　and　it　is　some　such　hope　that　Mr。　White　has

constantly　in　mind　when　making　his　constant　appeal　to　conscience。　

It　is；　of　course；　a　dramatic；　not　a　didactic　appeal。　　He　preaches

so　little　and　is　so　effectively　reticent　that　I　could　almost　wi