=7. James Hogg (1770–1835).= Hogg became_A history of English literature

Ettrick Shepherd,” for he was born of a shepherd’s family in the valley

of the Ettrick, in Selkirkshire. He was a man of much natural ability,

and from his infancy was an eager listener to the songs and ballads of

his district. He was introduced to Walter Scott (1802) while the latter

was collecting the Border minstrelsy, and by Scott he was supported

both as a literary man and as a farmer. Many of his admirers assisted

him in the acquisition of a sheep-farm, but Hogg proved to be a poor

farmer. He was known to most of the members of the Scottish literary

circle, but his shiftless and unmanageable disposition alienated most

of his friends. He died in his native district.

Hogg had little education and very little sense of discrimination, so

that much of his poetry is very poor indeed. Sometimes, however, his

native talent prevails, and he writes such poems as _Kilmeny_ and _When

the Kye comes Hame_. The latter is a lyric resembling those of Burns in

its humor and simple appeal. In _Kilmeny_ (in _The Queen’s Wake_) he

achieves what is commonly held to be the true Celtic note: the eerie

description of elves and the gloaming, and murmuring and musical echoes

of things half seen and half understood. Some of his books are _The

Forest Minstrel_ (1801), _The Queen’s Wake_ (1813), and _The Brownie of

Bodsbeck_ (1818), the last being a prose tale.

=8. Ebenezer Elliott (1781–1849).= Elliott was born at Masborough,

in Yorkshire, and worked as an iron-founder. The struggles of the poor,

oppressed by the Corn Laws, were early borne in upon him, and his

poetical gift was used in a fierce challenge to the existing system.

Like Crabbe, he devoted himself to the cause of the poor; and it

is a tribute to his merit as a poet that, in spite of his bristling

assertiveness, he produced some work of real value. He became known as

the “Corn Law Rhymer,” and he lived to see the abolition of the laws

that he had always attacked.

His best book is _Corn Law Rhymes_ (1830), which includes the powerful

and somber _Battle-song_. This poem is a kind of anthem for the poor,

and breathes a spirit of fierce unrest.

=9. Felicia Hemans (1793–1835).= Mrs. Hemans’s maiden name was

Browne, and she was born at Liverpool. Later she removed to Wales,

where a large part of her life was spent. At the age of fifteen she

began to write poetry, and persisted in the habit all her life. She

married somewhat unhappily, but she lived to be a highly popular

poetess, and produced a large amount of work. She died in Dublin.

Nobody can call Mrs. Hemans a great poetess, but her verses are facile

and fairly melodious, and she can give simple themes a simple setting.

One can respect the genuine quality of her emotions, and the zeal with

which she expressed them. Some of her better lyrics--for example,

_The Stately Homes of England_, _The Graves of a Household_, and _The

Pilgrim Fathers_--are in their limited fashion well done.

=10. Thomas Hood (1799–1845).= Hood was a native of London, and became

a partner in a book-selling firm. He took to a literary career, and

contributed to many periodicals, including _The London Magazine_. For a

time he edited _The New Monthly Magazine_, but he was much troubled by

illness, and died prematurely.

Hood first gained notoriety with some humorous poems, published

under the title of _Whims and Oddities_ (1826). To modern taste the

humor is rather cheap, for it consists largely of verbal quibblings,

such as the free use of the pun. It seemed to be acceptable to the

public of the time, for the book had much success. Other volumes in

the same vein were _The Comic Annual_, _Up the Rhine_ (1839), and

_Whimsicalities_ (1843). Hood, in spite of his smartness, could not

keep free of vulgarity, and his wit often jars. As a kind of tragic

relief Hood sometimes produced poems of a tearful intensity, such as

_The Death-bed_ and _The Bridge of Sighs_. One could believe that his

grief was genuine if he did not dwell so much upon it. His _Song of

the Shirt_, first published in _Punch_ in 1845, is rather a versified

political pamphlet than a real poem, but it is powerful verse, and

one can forgive much on account of the motive, which was to help

the sweated sempstress. His _Dream of Eugene Aram_ (1829) was an

attempt at the horrible, and was long a _bravura_ piece for aspiring

elocutionists. It is a middling specimen of poetical rhetoric.

=11. John Clare (1793–1864)= was a true peasant poet, and in his day he

had a great popularity. After his death his works fell into neglect,

but recently (1920) a reissue of his poems, some of them new to the

public, has recalled attention to the considerable value of much that

he wrote. He was born near Peterborough, his father being a cripple and

a pauper. At the age of thirteen he saved sufficient money to buy a

copy of _The Seasons_, which fired his poetic ability. His _Collection

of Original Trifles_ (1817) attracted notice, and his _Poems_ (1820)

was much praised. The patronage of rich admirers put him above poverty,

but a tendency to insanity developed, and, like Christopher Smart, he

died in a madhouse.

Clare’s poems are seen at their best when they deal with simple rustic

themes, and then they are quite charming. He rejoices in the ways of

animals and insects. He is not a great poet, but there are many poets

with flaunting credentials who have less claims to consideration than

he.

=12. James Smith (1775–1837)= and =Horace Smith (1779–1849)=, two

brothers, collaborated in the production of a work that was one of

the “hits” of the period. This book was _Rejected Addresses_ (1812).

When the Drury Lane Theatre was burned down and rebuilt the management

offered a prize for the best poem to be recited on the opening

night. The Smiths hit on the idea of making parodies of the notable

poets of the time and pretending that they were the rejected poems

of the writers mentioned. The result is the classical collection of

parodies in English. Scott, Wordsworth, and other well-known authors

are imitated, usually with much cleverness. The Wordsworth poem is

recited by Nancy Lake, a girl of eight, who is drawn upon the stage in

a perambulator:

My brother Jack was nine in May,

And I was eight on New Year’s Day;

So in Kate Williams’ shop

Papa (he’s my papa and Jack’s)

Bought me, last week, a doll of wax,

And brother Jack a top.

WALTER SCOTT (1771–1832)

=1. His Life.= Scott was born in Edinburgh, of an ancient stock of

Border freebooters. At the age of eighteen months he was crippled

for life by a childish ailment; and though he grew up to be a man of

great physical robustness he never lost his lameness. He was educated

at the High School of Edinburgh and at the university; and there he

developed that powerful memory which, though it rejected things of no

interest to it, held in tenacious grasp a great store of miscellaneous

knowledge. His father was a lawyer, and Scott himself was called to

the Scottish Bar (1792). As a pleader he had little success, for he

was much more interested in the lore and antiquities of the country.

He was glad, therefore, to accept a small legal appointment as Sheriff

of Selkirkshire (1799). Just before this, after an unsuccessful

love-affair with a Perthshire lady, he had married the daughter of

a French exile. In 1806 he obtained the valuable post of Clerk of

Session, but for six years he received no salary, as the post was still

held by an invalid nominally in charge.

In 1812, on receipt of his first salary as Clerk of Session, he

removed from his pleasant home of Ashiestiel to Abbotsford, a

small estate near Melrose. For the place he paid £4000, which he

characteristically obtained half by borrowing and half on security

of the poem _Rokeby_, still unwritten. During the next dozen

years he played the laird at Abbotsford, keeping open house, sinking

vast sums of money in enlarging his territory, and adorning the house

in a manner that was frequently in the reverse of good taste. In

1826 came the crash. In 1801 he had assisted a Border printer, James

Ballantyne, to establish a business at Edinburgh. In 1805 Scott became

secretly a partner. As a printing firm the concern was a fair success;

but in an evil moment, in 1809, Scott, with another brother, John

Ballantyne, started a publishing business. The new firm was poorly

managed from the beginning; in 1814 it was only the publication of

_Waverley_ that kept it on its legs, but the enormous success

of the later Waverley Novels gave it abounding prosperity--for the

time. Then John Ballantyne, a reckless fellow, plunged heavily into

further commitments, which entailed great loss; Scott in his easy

fashion also drew heavily upon the firm’s funds; and in 1826 the whole

erection tumbled into ruin. With great courage and sterling honesty

Scott refused to take the course that the other principals accepted

naturally, and compound with his creditors. Instead he attempted what

turned out to be the impossible task of paying the debt and surviving

it. His liabilities amounted to £117,000, and before he died he had

cleared off £70,000. After his death the remainder was made good,

chiefly from the proceeds of Lockhart’s _Life_, and his creditors

were paid in full.

The gigantic efforts he made brought about his death. He had a slight

paralytic seizure in 1830. It passed, but it left him with a clouded

brain. He refused to desist from novel-writing, or even to slacken the

pace. Other illness followed, his early lameness becoming more marked.

After an ineffectual journey to Italy, he returned to Abbotsford, and

died within sound of the river he loved so well.

=2. His Poetry.= Scott’s earliest poetical efforts were translations

from the German. _Lenore_ (1799), the most considerable of them, is

crude enough, but it has much of his later vigor and clatter. In 1802

appeared the first two volumes of _The Minstrelsy of the Scottish

Border_. In some respects the work is a compilation of old material;

but Scott patched up the ancient pieces when it was necessary, and

added some original poems of his own, which were done in the ancient

manner. The best of his own contributions, such as _The Eve of St.

John_, have a strong infusion of the ancient force and fire, as well as

a grimly supernatural element.

In _The Lay of the Last Minstrel_ (1805) there is much more

originality. The work is a poem of considerable length, professing to

be the lay of an aged bard who seeks shelter in the castle of Newark.

As a tale the poem is confused and difficult; as poetry it is mediocre;

but the abounding vitality of the style, the fresh and intimate local

knowledge, and the healthy love of nature made it a revelation to a

public anxious to welcome the new Romantic methods. The poem was a

great and instant success, and was quickly followed up with _Marmion_

(1808).

In popular estimation _Marmion_ is held to be Scott’s masterpiece.

The story deals with Flodden Field, and is intricate in detail, as

Scott labors to obtain a _dénouement_. For several cantos the tale

is cumbered with the masses of antiquarian and topical matter with

which Scott’s mind was fully charged. Once the narrative is within

touch of Flodden it quickens considerably. The conclusion, dealing

with the death of Marmion and the close of the battle, is one of the

triumphs of martial verse:

But as they left the dark’ning heath,

More desperate grew the strife of death.

The English shafts in volleys hail’d,

In headlong charge their horse assail’d;

Front, flank, and rear, the squadrons sweep

To break the Scottish circle deep,

That fought around their King.

But yet, though thick the shafts as snow,

Though charging knights like whirlwinds go

Though bill-men ply the ghastly blow,

Unbroken was the ring;

The stubborn spear-men still made good

Their dark impenetrable wood,

Each stepping where his comrade stood,

The instant that he fell.

No thought was there of dastard flight;

Link’d in the serried phalanx tight,

Groom fought like noble, squire like knight,

As fearlessly and well;

Till utter darkness closed her wing

O’er their thin host and wounded King....

Next came _The Lady of the Lake_ (1810), a still greater success, but

clumsy in plot and heavy with unpoetical matter. The poem made the

fortune of the Trossachs. In _Rokeby_ (1813) the scene shifts to the

North of England. As a whole this poem is inferior to its predecessors,

but some of the lyrics have a seriousness and depth of tone that are

quite uncommon in the spur-and-feather pageantry of Scott’s verse. _The

Bridal of Triermain_ (1813) and _The Lord of the Isles_ (1814) mark a

decline in quality.

In addition to the longer poems Scott composed many lyrics, and

continued to write such till late in his career. Most of them are

passable in a tuneful and picturesque fashion; and in a few, such as

_Proud Maisie_ and _A Weary Lot is Thine_, he attains to something

finer and deeper. A ballad from _Rokeby_ has an intensity that gives it

a strongly lyrical cast. The conclusion is as follows:

“With burnish’d brand and musketoon

So gallantly you come,

I read you for a bold Dragoon,

That lists the tuck of drum.”

“I list no more the tuck of drum,

No more the trumpet hear;

But when the beetle sounds his hum,

My comrades take the spear.

“And O! though Brignall banks be fair,

And Greta woods be gay,

Yet mickle must the maiden dare,

Would reign my Queen of May!

“Maiden! a nameless life I lead,

A nameless death I’ll die;

The fiend whose lantern lights the mead

Were better mate than I!

And when I’m with my comrades met

Beneath the green-wood bough,

What once we were we all forget,

Nor think what we are now.

“Yet Brignall banks are fresh and fair,

And Greta woods are green,

And you may gather garlands there,

Would grace a summer queen.”

As a poet Scott’s reputation has depreciated and continues to

depreciate. His faults, like his merits, are all on the surface: he

lacks the finer poetical virtues, such as reflection, melody, and

delicate sympathy; he (in poetry) is deficient in humor; he records

crude physical action simply portrayed. Even the vigor that is often

ascribed to him exists fitfully, for he loads his narrative with

overabundant detail, often of a technical kind. When he does move

freely he has the stamp, the rattle, and the swing of martial music.

One must nevertheless do credit to the service he did to poetry by

giving new zest to the Romantic methods that had already been adopted

in poetry.

=3. His Prose.= About 1814 Scott largely gave up writing poetry, and

save for a few short pieces wrote no more in verse. There are two

chief reasons for his desertion of the poetical form. With his native

shrewdness he saw that he had marketed as much verse as the public

could absorb; and, secondly, as he confessed in the last year of his

life, Byron had “bet” him by producing verse tales that were fast

swallowing up the popularity of his own. In 1814 Scott returned to

a fragment of a Jacobite prose romance that he had started and left

unfinished in 1805. He left the opening chapters as they stood,

and on to them tacked a rapid and brilliant narrative dealing with

the Forty-five. This made the novel _Waverley_, which was issued

anonymously in 1814. Owing chiefly to its ponderous and lifeless

beginning, the book hung fire for a space; but the remarkable remainder

was almost bound to make it a success. After _Waverley_ Scott went on

from strength to strength: _Guy Mannering_ (1815), _The Antiquary_

(1816), _The Black Dwarf_ (1816), _Old Mortality_ (1816), _Rob Roy_

(1818), _The Heart of Midlothian_ (1818), _The Bride of Lammermoor_

(1819), and _The Legend of Montrose_ (1819). All these novels deal

with scenes in Scotland, but not all with historical Scotland. They

are not of equal merit, but even the weakest, _The Black Dwarf_,

is astonishingly good. Scott now turned his gaze abroad, producing

_Ivanhoe_ (1820), the scene of which is pitched in early England; then

turned again to Scotland and suffered failure with _The Monastery_

(1820), though he triumphantly rehabilitated himself with _The Abbot_

(1820), a sequel to the last. Henceforth he ranged abroad or stayed

at home as he fancied in _Kenilworth_ (1821), _The Pirate_ (1822),

_The Fortunes of Nigel_ (1822), _Peveril of the Peak_ (1823), _Quentin

Durward_ (1823), _St. Ronan’s Well_ (1824), _Redgauntlet_ (1824),

_The Betrothed_ (1825), and _The Talisman_ (1825). By this time such

enormous productivity was telling even on his gigantic powers. In the

later books the narrative is often heavier, the humor more cumbrous,

and the descriptions more labored.

Then came the financial deluge, and Scott began a losing battle against

misfortune and disease. But even yet the odds were not too great for

him; for in succession appeared _Woodstock_ (1826), _The Fair Maid of

Perth_ (1828), _Count Robert of Paris_ (1831), and _Castle Dangerous_

(1831). The last works were dictated from the depths of mental and

bodily anguish, and the furrows of mind and brow are all over them. Yet

frequently the old spirit revives and the ancient glory is renewed.

It should never be forgotten that along with these literary] labors

Scott was filling the office of Clerk of Session, was laboriously

performing the duties of a Border laird, and was compiling a mass

of miscellaneous prose. Among this last are his editions of Dryden

(1808) and Swift (1814), heavy tasks in themselves; the _Lives of the

Novelists_ (1820); the _Life of Napoleon_ (1827), a gigantic work

that cost him more labor than ten novels; and the admirable _Tales

of a Grandfather_ (1827–29). His miscellaneous articles, pamphlets,

journals, and letters are a legion in themselves.

=4. Features of his Novels.= (_a_) _Rapidity of Production._ Scott’s

great success as a novelist led to some positive evils, the greatest

of which was a too great haste in the composition of his stories.

His haphazard financial methods, which often led to his drawing upon

future profits, also tended to overproduction. Haste is visible in the

construction of his plots, which are frequently hurriedly improvised,

developed carelessly, and finished anyhow. As for his style, it is

spacious and ornate, but he has little ear for rhythm and melody, and

his sentences are apt to be shapeless. The same haste is seen in the

handling of his characters, which sometimes finish weakly after they

have begun strongly. An outstanding case of this is Mike Lambourne in

_Kenilworth_.

It is doubtful if Scott would have done any better if he had taken

greater pains. He himself admitted, and to a certain extent gloried in,

his slapdash methods. So he must stand the inevitable criticisms that

arise when his methods are examined.

(_b_) His _contribution to the novel_ is very great indeed. To the

historical novel he brought a knowledge that was not pedantically

exact, but manageable, wide, and bountiful. To the sum of this

knowledge he added a life-giving force, a vitalizing energy, an

insight, and a genial dexterity that made the historical novel an

entirely new species. Earlier historical novels, such as Clara Reeve’s

_Old English Baron_ (1777) and Miss Porter’s _Scottish Chiefs_

(1810), had been lifeless productions; but in the hands of Scott the

historical novel became of the first importance, so much so that for a

generation after his time it was done almost to death. It should also

be noted that he did much to develop the domestic novel, which had

several representatives in the Waverley series, such as _Guy Mannering_

and _The Antiquary_. To this type of fiction he added freshness, as

well as his broad and sane handling of character and incident.

(_c_) _His Shakespearian Qualities._ Scott has often been called the

prose Shakespeare, and in several respects the comparison is fairly

just. He resembles Shakespeare in the free manner in which he ranges

high and low, right and left, in his search for material. On the other

hand, in his character-drawing he lacks much of the Elizabethan’s deep

penetration, though he has much of Shakespeare’s genial, tolerant

humor, in which he strongly resembles also his great predecessor

Fielding. It is probably in this large urbanity that the resemblance to

Shakespeare is observed most strongly.

(_d_) _His Style._ The following extract will give some idea of Scott’s

style at its best. It lacks suppleness, but it is powerful, solid, and

sure. In his use of the Scottish vernacular he is exceedingly natural

and vivacious. His characters who employ the Scottish dialect, such

as Cuddie Headrigg or Jeanie Deans, owe much of their freshness and

attraction to Scott’s happy use of their native speech:

Fergus, as the presiding judge was putting on the fatal cap of

judgment, placed his own bonnet upon his head, regarded him with

a steadfast and stern look, and replied in a firm voice: “I

cannot let this numerous audience suppose that to such an appeal

I have no answer to make. But what I have to say you would

not bear to hear, for my defence would be your condemnation.

Proceed, then, in the name of God, to do what is permitted to

you. Yesterday and the day before you have condemned loyal and

honourable blood to be poured forth like water. Spare not mine.

Were that of all my ancestors in my veins, I would have perilled

it in this quarrel.” He resumed his seat, and refused again to

rise.

Evan Maccombich looked at him with great earnestness, and,

rising up, seemed anxious to speak; but the confusion of the

court and the perplexity arising from thinking in a language

different from that in which he was to express himself, kept him

silent. There was a murmur of compassion among the spectators,

from the idea that the poor fellow intended to plead the

influence of his superior as an excuse for his crime. The judge

commanded silence, and encouraged Evan to proceed.

“I was only ganging to say, my lord,” said Evan, in what he

meant to be an insinuating manner, “that if your excellent

Honour and the honourable court would let Vich Ian Vohr go

free just this once, and let him gae back to France, and no to

trouble King George’s government again, ony six o’ the very best

of his clan will be willing to be justified in his stead; and if

you’ll just let me gae down to Glennaquoich, I’ll fetch them up

to ye mysell, to head or hang, and you may begin wi’ me the very

first man.”

_Waverley_

JANE AUSTEN (1775–1817)

=1. Her Life.= Jane Austen was the daughter of a Hampshire clergyman.

She was educated at home; her father was a man of good taste in the

choice of reading material, and Jane’s education was conducted on sound

lines. Her life was unexciting, being little more than a series of

pilgrimages to different places of residence, including the fashionable

resort of Bath (1801). On the death of the rector his wife and two

daughters removed to the neighbourhood of Southampton, where the

majority of Jane Austen’s novels were written. Her first published

works were issued anonymously, and she died in middle age, before her

merits had received anything like adequate recognition.

=2. Her Novels.= The chronology of Miss Austen’s novels is not

easy to follow, for her earliest works were the last to be published.

In what follows we shall take the books approximately in their order of

composition, not of publication.

Her first novel was _Northanger Abbey_, which was finished in 1798,

but not published till 1818, after her death. The book begins as a

burlesque of the Radcliffe type of the terror novel, which was then

all the rage. The heroine, after a visit to Bath, is invited to an

abbey, where she imagines romantic possibilities, but is in the end

ludicrously undeceived. The incidents in the novel are ingloriously

commonplace, and the characters flatly average. Yet the treatment is

deft and touched with the finest needle-point of satiric observation.

The style is smooth and unobtrusive, but covers a delicate pricking of

irony that is agreeable and masterly in its quiet way. Nothing quite

like it had appeared before in the novel.

In _Pride and Prejudice_ (1797) the same methods are to be seen. We

have the same middle-class people pursuing the common round. The

heroine is a girl of spirit, but she has no extraordinary qualities;

the pride and prejudice of rank and wealth are gently but pleasingly

titillated, as if they are being subjected to an electric current of

carefully selected intensity. In unobtrusive and dexterous art the book

is considered to be her masterpiece.

_Sense and Sensibility_ (1798) was her third novel, and it followed

the same general lines as its predecessors. Then came a long pause,

for she could find no publisher to issue her work. The first to see

print was the last mentioned, which appeared in 1811. Stimulated to

further effort, in quick succession she wrote _Mansfield Park_ (1814),

_Emma_ (1816), and _Persuasion_ (1818). The latter group are of the

type of the others; if there is development it is seen in the still

more inflexible avoidance of anything that is unusual or startling. The

novels are all much the same, yet subtly and artistically different.

=3. Features of her Novels.= (_a_) _Her Plots._ Her plots are severely

unromantic. Her first work, beginning as a burlesque of the horrible

in fiction, finishes by being an excellent example of her ideal novel.

As her art develops, even the slight casualties of common life--such

an incident, for example, as the elopement that appears in _Pride and

Prejudice_--become rarer; with the result that the later novels, such

as _Emma_, are the pictures of everyday existence. Only the highest art

can make such plots attractive, and Jane Austen’s does so.

(_b_) Her _characters_ are developed with minuteness and accuracy.

They are ordinary people, but are convincingly alive. She is fond of

introducing clergymen, all of whom strike the reader as being exactly

like clergymen, though each has his own individual characteristics. She

has many characters of the first class, like the servile Mr. Collins

in _Pride and Prejudice_, the garrulous Miss Bates in _Emma_, and the

selfish and vulgar John Thorpe in _Northanger Abbey_. Her characters

are not types, but individuals. Her method of portrayal is based upon

acute observation and a quiet but incisive irony. Her male characters

have a certain softness of thew and temper, but her female characters

are almost unexceptionable in perfection of finish.

(_c_) Her _place in the history of fiction_ is remarkable. Her

qualities are of a kind that are slow to be recognized, for there is

nothing loud or garish to catch the casual glance. The taste for this

kind of fiction has to be acquired, but once it is acquired it remains

strong. Jane Austen has won her way to a foremost place, and she will

surely keep it.

We add a short extract to illustrate her clear and careful style, her

skill in handling conversation, and the quiet irony of her method.

(_Catherine Morland, the heroine of the novel, is introduced

to the society of Bath, where she cuts rather a lonely figure

till she meets a young man called Tilney--“not quite handsome,

but very near it.” The following is part of their conversation

at a dance._)

After chatting some time on such matters as naturally arose from

the objects around them, he suddenly addressed her with--“I have

hitherto been very remiss, madam, in the proper attentions of a

partner here; I have not yet asked you how long you have been in

Bath; whether you were ever here before; whether you have been

at the Upper Rooms, the theatre, and the concert; and how you

like the place altogether. I have been very negligent--but are

you now at leisure to satisfy me in these particulars? If you

are I will begin directly.”

“You need not give yourself that trouble, sir.”

“No trouble, I assure you, madam.” Then forming his features

into a set smile, and affectedly softening his voice, he added,

with a simpering air, “Have you been long in Bath, madam?”

“About a week, sir,” replied Catherine, trying not to laugh.

“Really!” with affected astonishment.

“Why should you be surprised, sir?”

“Why, indeed!” said he, in his natural tone; “but some emotion

must appear to be raised by your reply, and surprise is more

easily assumed, and not less reasonable, than any other.--Now

let us go on. Were you never here before, madam?”

“Never, sir.”

“Indeed! Have you yet honoured the Upper Rooms?”

“Yes, sir, I was there last Monday.”

“Have you been to the theatre?”

“Yes, sir, I was at the play on Tuesday.”

“To the concert?”

“Yes, sir, on Wednesday.”

“And are you altogether pleased with Bath?”

“Yes--I like it very well.”

“Now I must give one smirk, and then we may be rational again.”

_Northanger Abbey_

OTHER NOVELISTS

=1. Maria Edgeworth (1767–1849).= This novelist was born in County

Longford, Ireland. Her life is largely the catalogue of her books,

which are numerous, varied, and in quality very unequal. Her best

novels deal with Irish life. They were warmly praised by Scott,

who declared that they gave him ideas for his own stories. _Castle

Rackrent_ (1800) is successful in its dealing with Irish characters;

_Lenora_ (1806) shows a good deal of power; _Tales of Fashionable Life_

(1809) contains much of her best work, including _The Absentee_, which

is commonly considered her masterpiece. Other works are _Patronage_

(1814), _Harrington_ (1817), and _Ormand_ (1817). Her type of fiction

is lively and agreeable, except when she indulges in a shallow kind of

moralizing. In her day her popularity ran a close second to Scott’s,

but now only a slight flicker survives.

=2. John Galt (1779–1839)= was born in Ayrshire, and there he passed

the early years of his life, afterward removing to Greenock. He

studied for the Bar, but delicate health drove him abroad. After

much traveling he settled in Scotland, and produced a large amount of

literary work. He engaged unsuccessfully in business transactions,

then took once more to writing novels and to journalism. He died at

Greenock, where his career had commenced.

The best of his novels are _The Ayrshire Legatees_ (1820), in the form

of a letter-series, containing much amusing Scottish narrative; _The

Annals of the Parish_ (1821), his masterpiece, which is the record of a

fictitious country minister, doing in prose very much what Crabbe had

done in verse; _The Entail_ (1821); and _The Provost_ (1822). Galt had

a vigorous style and abundant imagination, with a great deal of humor

and sympathetic observation. He is too haphazard and uneven to be a

great novelist, though he has value as a painter of Scottish manners.

=3. William Harrison Ainsworth (1805–82)= was an early imitator of

Scott. He wrote a great number of novels, which cover many periods

of English history. The first was _Sir John Chiverton_ (1825), but

he scored his great success with the Dick Turpin romance _Rookwood_

(1834). A few of the many others were _Jack Sheppard_ (1839), an

immense success, _The Tower of London_ (1840), _Old St. Paul’s_ (1841),

_Windsor Castle_ (1843), _The Star Chamber_ (1854), _The Constable of

the Tower_ (1861), and _Preston Fight_ (1875). Ainsworth possesses

little of Scott’s genius, for his handling of history is crude and

heavy, and consists of throwing in large, undigested lumps of history.

He is feeble in his treatment of his characters, but when he is in

the right vein he can give the reader a vigorous narrative and a fair

quality of description.

=4. George P. R. James (1801–60)= was another follower of the method of

Scott, and he was responsible for a hundred and eighty-nine volumes,

chiefly novels. He was born in London; traveled abroad; settled down

to novel-writing; on the strength of some serious historical work was

appointed Historiographer Royal; entered the consular service; and died

at Venice.

_Richelieu_ (1828), which bears a strong resemblance to _Quentin

Durward_, was his earliest, and is by many considered to be his best,

novel. Others include _Darnley_ (1830), _De l’Orme_ (1830), _The Gipsy_

(1835), and _Lady Montague’s Page_ (1858). As was almost inevitable

with such mass-production, he makes his novels on a stock pattern. He

is fond of florid pageantry, and can be rather ingeniously mysterious

in his plots. He has little power in dealing with his characters, and

no imaginative grasp of history. In style he is undistinguished, but

fluent and clear.

=5. Charles Lever (1806–72).= Lever was born in Dublin, was educated at

Trinity College and Göttingen, and became a physician. The success of

his novels caused him to desert his profession, and in the course of

time (1842) he became editor of _The Dublin University Magazine_, which

had published his first stories. In his latter years he lived abroad,

was appointed consul in Sardinia (1858), and after some other changes

died when consul at Trieste.

_Harry Lorrequer_ (1839), his first novel, made a great hit. It is

a novel of the picaresque type, dealing with the adventures of the

hare-brained but lovable hero. _Charles O’Malley_ (1841) is of the same

species, and others are _Jack Hinton_ (1842) and _Tom Burke of Ours_

(1844). The scenes of these novels are pitched in Ireland; there is

little plot, what there is consisting of the scrapes of the heroes; the

humor is rough-and-tumble, though agreeably lively; and the heroes,

who are all much the same, are amiable fellows, with a propensity

for falling into trouble and falling out of it. A later class of

Lever’s novels was more of the historical cast, and includes _The

O’Donovan_ (1845) and _The Knight of Gwynne_ (1847). Others dealt with

the Continent, and include _The Dodd Family Abroad_ (1854) and _The

Fortunes of Glencore_ (1857). These latter are more stable and serious,

and as novels are better than the earlier groups.

=6. Frederick Marryat (1792–1848)= followed the Smollett tradition

of writing sea-stories. He was born in London, entered the Navy at an

early age (1806), and saw some fighting just before the conclusion of

the Napoleonic Wars. He saw further service in different parts of the

world, rose to be a captain, and spent much of his later life writing

the novels that have given him his place in literature.

His earliest novel was _The Naval Officer_ (1829), a loose and

disconnected narrative, which was followed by _The King’s Own_ (1830),

a much more able piece of work. From this point he continued to produce

fiction at a great rate. The best of his stories are _Jacob Faithful_

(1834), _Peter Simple_ (1834), _Japhet in Search of a Father_ (1836),

_Mr. Midshipman Easy_ (1836), and _Masterman Ready_ (1841). All his

best books deal with the sea, and have much of its breeziness. Marryat

has a considerable gift for plain narrative, and his humor, though

it is often coarse, is entertaining. His characters are of the stock

types, but they are lively and suit his purpose, which is to produce a

good yarn.

=7. Michael Scott (1789–1835)= was another novelist whose favorite

theme was the sea. Scott was not a sailor like Marryat, but a merchant,

first in Jamaica and then in his native city of Glasgow. His two tales,

_Tom Cringle’s Log_ (1829) and _The Cruise of the Midge_ (1834), were

published in _Blackwood’s Magazine_. They have attempts at fine writing

which Marryat did not aspire to, and are none the better for it, for

Scott seldom succeeds in being impressive. His actual nautical details

lack the intimacy and freshness of Marryat’s. He was, however, a gifted

story-teller, and his tales are rarely dull.

=8. Benjamin Disraeli (1804–81), Lord Beaconsfield=, was a Londoner of

Jewish race, and after many struggles and failures rose to be leader of

the Tory party in Parliament and Prime Minister. His political career

does not concern us here.

He began his literary career as a novelist. _Vivian Grey_ (1826)

soon set the fashionable world talking of its author. It dealt with

fashionable society, it was brilliant and witty, and it had an easy

arrogance that amused, incensed, and attracted at the same time.

The general effect of cutting sarcasm was varied, but not improved,

by passages of florid description and sentimental moralizing. His

next effort was _The Voyage of Captain Popanilla_ (1829), a modern

_Gulliver’s Travels_. The wit is very incisive, and the satire, though

it lacks the solid weight of Swift’s, is sure and keen. Disraeli

wrote a good number of other novels, the most notable of which were

_Contarini Fleming_ (1831), _Henrietta Temple_ (1837), _Coningsby_

(1844), _Sybil_ (1845), and _Tancred_ (1847). These last books, written

when experience of public affairs had added depth to his vision and

edge to his satire, are polished and powerful novels dealing with

the politics of his day. At times they are too brilliant, for the

continual crackle of epigram dazzles and wearies, and his tawdry taste

leads him to overload his ornamental passages. Disraeli also carried

further the idea of _Captain Popanilla_ by writing _Alroy_ (1832),

_Ixion in Heaven_ (1833), and _The Infernal Marriage_, which are half

allegorical, half supernatural, but wholly satirical romances. In style

the prose is inflated, but the later novels sometimes have flashes of

real passion and insight.

=9. Edward Bulwer-Lytton (1805–73)= was the son of General Bulwer.

On the death of his mother he succeeded to her estate and took the

name of Lytton, later becoming Lord Lytton. He was at first educated

privately, and then at Cambridge, where he won a prize for English

verse. He had a long and successful career both as a literary man and

as a politician. He entered Parliament, was created in turn a baronet

and a peer, and for a time held Cabinet rank.

His earliest efforts in literature were rather feeble imitations of

the Byronic manner. His first novel was _Falkland_ (1827), which

was published anonymously, and then came _Pelham_ (1828). These are

pictures of current society, and are immature in their affectation

of wit and cynicism. They contain some clever things, but they lack

the real merit of the early novels of Disraeli. Another of the same

kind was _Devereux_ (1829). _Paul Clifford_ (1830) changed the scene

to the haunts of vice and crime, but was not at all convincing.

Lytton now took to writing historical novels, the best of which were

_The Last Days of Pompeii_ (1834), _Rienzi_ (1835), and _Harold_

(1848). They are rather garish, but clever and attractive, and they

had great popularity. He did not neglect the domestic novel, writing

_The Caxtons_ (1849) and _My Novel_ (1853); and the terror and

supernatural species were ably represented by _A Strange Story_ (1862)

and _The Coming Race_ (1871). Lytton is never first-rate, but he is

astonishingly versatile, and, considering the speed of his production,

his books are of a high quality. His plays, such as _Richelieu_ (1839)

and _Money_ (1840), had great success.

CHARLES LAMB (1775–1834)

=1. His Life.= Lamb was born in London, his father being a kind of

factotum to a Bencher of the Middle Temple. The boy, who was a timid

and retiring youth, was educated at Christ’s Hospital, where he was a

fellow-pupil of Coleridge, whose early eccentricities he has touched

upon with his usual felicity. He would have entered the Church, but

an impediment in his speech made such a course impossible; instead he

obtained a clerkship first in the South Sea House, then (1792) in the

East India House, where the remainder of his working life was spent.

There was a strain of madness in the family which did not leave him

untouched, for in 1795–96 he was under restraint for a time. In the

case of his sister, Mary Lamb, the curse was a deadly one. In September

1796 she murdered her mother in a sudden frenzy, and thereafter she

had intermittent attacks of insanity. Lamb devoted his life to the

welfare of his afflicted sister, who frequently appears in his essays

under the name of Cousin Bridget. After more than thirty years’ service

Lamb retired (1825) on a pension, and the last ten years of his life

were passed in blessed release from his desk. He was a charming man,

a delightful talker, and one of the least assuming of writers. His

reputation, based upon his qualities of humor, pathos, and cheery

goodwill, is unsurpassed in our literature.

=2. His Essays.= Lamb started his literary career as a poet, producing

short pieces of moderate ability, including the well-known _The Old

Familiar Faces_ and _To Hester_. He attempted a tragedy, _John Woodvil_

(1801), in the style of his favorite Elizabethan playwrights, but it

had no success on the stage. His _Tales from Shakespeare_ (1807),

written in collaboration with his sister, are skillfully done, and are

agreeable to read. His critical work, narrow in scope, is remarkable

for its delicate insight and good literary taste. All these writings,

however, are of little importance compared with his essays.

The first of his essays appeared in _The London Magazine_ in 1820,

when Lamb was forty-five years old. It was signed “Elia,” a name

taken almost at random as that of an old foreigner who used to haunt

the South Sea House. The series continued till October 1822, and was

published as _The Essays of Elia_ (1823). A second series lasted from

May 1824 to August 1825, and was published under the title of _The Last

Essays of Elia_ (1833).

The essays are unequaled in English. In subject they are of the usual

miscellaneous kind, ranging from chimneysweeps to old china. They are,

however, touched with personal opinions and recollections so oddly

obtruded that interest in the subject is nearly swamped by the reader’s

delight in the author. No essayist is more egotistical than Lamb; but

no egotist can be so artless and yet so artful, so tearful and yet so

mirthful, so pedantic and yet so humane. It is this delicate clashing

of humors, like the chiming of sweet bells, that affords the chief

delight to Lamb’s readers.

It is almost impossible to do justice to his style. It is

old-fashioned, bearing echoes and odors from older writers like Sir

Thomas Browne and Fuller; it is full of long and curious words; and

it is dashed with frequent exclamations and parentheses. The humor

that runs through it all is not strong, but airy, almost elfish, in

note; it vibrates faintly, but in application never lacks precision.

His pathos is of much the same character; and sometimes, as in

_Dream-Children_, it deepens into a quivering sigh of regret. He

is so sensitive and so strong, so cheerful and yet so unalteringly

doomed to sorrow.

The extract given below deals with the playhouse, which was one of

his greatest passions. The reader can easily observe some of the

above-mentioned features of his style.

In those days were pit orders. Beshrew the uncomfortable manager

who abolished them!--with one of these we went. I remember

the waiting at the door--not that which is left--but between

that and an inner door in shelter--O when shall I be such an

expectant again!--with the cry of nonpareils, an indispensable

playhouse accompaniment in those days. As near as I can

recollect, the fashionable pronunciation of the theatrical

fruiteresses then was, “Chase some oranges, chase some

num-parels, chase a bill of the play;”--chase _pro_ chuse.

But when we got in, and I beheld the green curtain that veiled

a heaven to my imagination, which was soon to be disclosed--the

breathless anticipations I endured! I had seen something like it

in the plate prefixed to _Troilus and Cressida_, in Rowe’s

Shakespeare--the tent scene with Diomede--and a sight of that

plate can always bring back in a measure the feeling of that

evening.--The boxes at that time, full of well-dressed women of

quality, projected over the pit; and the pilasters reaching down

were adorned with a glistering substance (I know not what) under

glass (as it seemed), resembling--a homely fancy--but I judged

it to be sugar-candy--yet, to my raised imagination, divested

of its homelier qualities, it appeared a glorified candy!--The

orchestra lights at length arose, those “fair Auroras!” Once the

bell sounded. It was to ring out yet once again--and, incapable

of the anticipation, I reposed my shut eyes in a sort of

resignation upon the maternal lap. It rang the second time. The

curtain drew up--I was not past six years old--and the play was

_Artaxerxes_!

_My First Play_

THOMAS DE QUINCEY (1785–1859)

=1. His Life.= De Quincey was born at Manchester, where his father

was a rich merchant. The elder De Quincey left considerable property,

but De Quincey himself was improvident and unreliable in his financial

affairs. He was educated first at Manchester Grammar School and then

at Oxford. There he studied for a long time (1803–8), distinguishing

himself by his ability in Greek. While he was an undergraduate (1804)

he first became acquainted with opium, soaking his tobacco in the drug

and then smoking it in order to alleviate the pains of neuralgia. His

money was always easily spent, and his early struggles were a painful

effort to make both ends meet. He earned a precarious livelihood by

journalism, and lived for a long time (1809–30) in the Lake District,

becoming intimate with the local literary celebrities. During this time

his devotion to the drug was excessive, but he produced a large amount

of work. Then, becoming loosely attached to the staff of _Blackwood’s

Magazine_, he removed to Edinburgh. In this neighborhood he remained

till the end of his long life, and was buried in the Scottish capital.

=2. His Works.= De Quincey is one of the authors whose work is to

be rigorously sifted. He wrote a large amount of prose; most of it is

hack-work, a fair proportion is of good quality, and a small amount is

of the highest merit. He wrote no book of any great length, in this

respect resembling another opium-eater, Coleridge.

The book that made his name was his _Confessions of an English

Opium-Eater_ (1821), which appeared in _The London Magazine_. The work,

which is chaotic in its general plan, is a series of visions that melt

away in the manner of dreams. Much is tawdry and unreal, but the book

contains passages of great power and beauty. The remainder of his

work is a mass of miscellaneous production, the best of which is _The

English Mail-coach_, _Suspiria de Profundis_, and _Murder considered as

One of the Fine Arts_.

A great part of his work is dreary and diffuse, and vitiated by a humor

that is extremely flat and ineffective. He displays a wide range of

knowledge, though it is often flawed with inaccuracy. In style he is

apt to stumble into vulgarity and tawdriness; but when inspiration

descends upon him he gives to the English tongue a wonderful strength

and sweetness. In these rare moments he plunges into an elaborate style

and imagery, but never loses grip, sweeping along with sureness and

ease. In rhythm and melody he is almost supreme; he can “blow through

bronze” and “breathe through silver,” and be impressive in both.

The passage we now give is among his most impressive efforts. It has

the unity and passion of the lyric, and its effect is both thrilling

and profound. Observe the studied rhythm, often ejaculatory, the deep

and solemn beauty, and the simplicity of diction. This is poetic prose

at its best:

As a final specimen, I cite one of a different character, from

1820.

The dream commenced with a music which now I often heard in

dreams--a music of preparation and of awakening suspense; a

music like the opening of the coronation anthem, and which,

like _that_, gave the feeling of a vast march--of infinite

cavalcades filing off--and the tread of innumerable armies. The

morning was come of a mighty day--a day of crisis and of final

hope for human nature, then suffering some mysterious eclipse,

and labouring in some dread extremity. Somewhere, I knew not

where--somehow, I knew not how--by some beings, I knew not

whom--a battle, a strife, an agony was conducting--was evolving

like a great drama, or piece of music; with which my sympathy

was the more insupportable from my confusion as to its place,

its cause, its nature, and its possible issue. I, as is usual in

dreams (where, of necessity, we make ourselves central to every

movement), had the power, and yet had not the power, to decide

it. I had the power, if I could raise myself, to will it; and

yet again had not the power, for the weight of twenty Atlantics

was upon me, or the oppression of inexpiable guilt. “Deeper than

ever plummet sounded,” I lay inactive.

Then, like a chorus, the passion deepened. Some great interest

was at stake; some mightier cause than ever yet the sword

had pleaded, or trumpet had proclaimed. Then came sudden

alarms: hurryings to and fro: trepidations of innumerable

fugitives, I knew not whether from the good cause or the

bad: darkness, and lights: tempest, and human faces; and at

last, with the sense that all was lost, female forms, and the

features that were worth all the world to me, and but a moment

allowed,--and clasped hands, and heart-breaking partings, and

then--everlasting farewells! and with a sigh, such as the caves

of hell sighed when Sin uttered the abhorred name of Death, the

sound was reverberated--everlasting farewells! and again, and

yet again reverberated--everlasting farewells!

And I awoke in struggles, and cried aloud--“I will sleep no

more!”

_The Confessions of an English Opium-Eater_

WILLIAM HAZLITT (1778–1830)

The period now under review is very rich in critical and miscellaneous

work. Of the writers of literary criticism Hazlitt may be taken as

representative.

=1. His Life.= Hazlitt was born in Shropshire, the son of a

Unitarian minister. His first intention was to be a painter, but he

abandoned the idea and took to letters as a profession. He was a

friend of Coleridge, with whom he shared an ardent admiration for

revolutionary principles. This enthusiasm, and others of a similar

nature, Hazlitt was not slack in expressing; and this habit, added to a

brawling acerbity of temper, made his life largely a series of quarrels

and controversies.

=2. His Works.= His output was very large, and included many political

works. Those that are of importance here are _The Characters of

Shakespeare’s Plays_ (1817), _Lectures on the English Poets_ (1818),

and _The Spirit of the Age_ (1825). His longest work was the _Life of

Napoleon_ (1828) but it was of no great value.

Hazlitt’s criticism, though it is limited in scope to English

literature, shows great ability, shrewd insight, and sanity in its

enthusiasms. It is far more precise and equable than that of Coleridge,

broader and more incisive than Lamb’s, and much more reasoned and

scientific than De Quincey’s. It is often spoilt by his political

views, but when they are allowed for it can be trusted to a great

degree.

His style is admirable for his purpose. It is readable and clear,

and when necessary it can rise into expressing the keen zest that

Hazlitt felt for the good and the wholesome in English literature. The

following extract is of interest as a comparison of Addison and Steele:

It may be said, that all this is to be found, in the same or a

greater degree, in the _Spectator_. For myself, I do not think

so; or, at least, there is in the last work a much greater

proportion of commonplace matter. I have, on this account,

always preferred the _Tatler_ to the _Spectator_. Whether

it is owing to my having been earlier or better acquainted

with the one than the other, my pleasure in reading these two

admirable works is not at all in proportion to their comparative

reputation. The _Tatler_ contains only half the number of

volumes, and, I will venture to say, at least an equal quantity

of sterling wit and sense. “The first sprightly runnings” are

there--it has more of the original spirit, more of the freshness

and stamp of nature. The indications of character and strokes

of humour are more true and frequent; the reflections that

suggest themselves arise more from the occasion, and are less

spun out into regular dissertations. They are more like the

remarks which occur in sensible conversation, and less like a

lecture. Something is left to the understanding of the reader.

Steele seems to have gone into his closet chiefly to set down

what he observed out of doors. Addison seems to have spent most

of his time in his study, and to have spun out and wire-drawn

the hints, which he borrowed from Steele, or took from nature,

to the utmost. I am far from wishing to depreciate Addison’s

talents, but I am anxious to do justice to Steele, who was,

I think, upon the whole, a less artificial and more original

writer. The humorous descriptions of Steele resemble loose

sketches, or fragments of a comedy; those of Addison are rather

comments, or ingenious paraphrases, on the genuine text.

_The English Comic Writers_

OTHER WRITERS OF MISCELLANEOUS PROSE

=1. Francis Jeffrey (1773–1850)=, one of the founders of _The

Edinburgh Review_, was born at Edinburgh, educated at the high

school and university of his native city, and was called to the

Scottish Bar. Though for many years an industrious writer for his

journal, he maintained a considerable legal practice, and distinguished

himself in politics as an ardent Whig and a supporter of the Reform

Bill of 1832. When, after the passage of the Bill, his party came into

office he was rewarded by being appointed Lord Advocate. This meant the

abandonment of his position on the _Review_, though he always kept

a paternal eye on its progress. He was finally appointed to the Bench,

with the title of Lord Jeffrey.

_The Edinburgh Review_ was at first a joint production of a group

of young and zealous Whigs, including Sydney Smith and Dr. John Brown.

After the first number Jeffrey was in sole control, and he drew around

him a band of distinguished contributors, including at one time Sir

Walter Scott and Lockhart. The journal led the way among the larger

reviews, and was noted for its briskness. It was not above prejudice,

as was shown in its opposition to the Lake School, but it did much to

raise the standard of criticism, and it succeeded in bringing much

talent to light, including the early efforts of Macaulay.

=2. Sydney Smith (1771–1845)= was for a time a colleague of Jeffrey.

He was born in Essex, and was the son of a clergyman. He was educated

at Winchester and Oxford, and became a clergyman in his turn. After

traveling on the Continent as a tutor, he settled for a time at

Edinburgh, and assisted in the launching of _The Edinburgh Review_

(1802). He took a large share in the political squabbles of the time,

and wrote much on behalf of the Whig party.

His works consist of many miscellaneous pieces, most of them of a

political character. The most noteworthy of them is a collection called

_The Letters of Peter Plymley_ (1807), which deals with Catholic

Emancipation. A more general selection from his writings was published

in 1855, and his _Wit and Wisdom_ in 1861. Nowadays it is somewhat

difficult to account for his great influence, for he has left so little

of real merit; but to his own contemporaries he was a very important

person. He was admired and feared as a wit, and some of his best

witticisms have been preserved. He was always a gentlemanly opponent,

always easy but deadly in the shafts leveled against his political

foes. He wrote the prose of an educated man, and is clear and forcible.

=3. John Wilson (1785–1854)=, who appears in literature as

=Christopher North=, was born at Paisley, the son of a wealthy

manufacturer. He was educated at Glasgow and Oxford, wrote poetry,

and for a time settled in the Lake District. He lost most of his

money, tried practice as a barrister, and then joined the staff of

_Blackwood’s Magazine_. He was appointed in 1820 Professor of

Moral Philosophy at Edinburgh University.

His early poems, _The Isle of Palms_ (1812) and _The City of the

Plague_ (1816), are passable verse of the romantic type. His

novels--for example, _The Trials of Margaret Lyndsay_ (1823)--are

sentimental pictures of Scottish life. His longest work, and the one

that perpetuates his name, is his _Noctes Ambrosianæ_ (beginning in

1822), which had a long and popular run in _Blackwood’s_. This is

an immensely long series of dialogues on many kinds of subjects.

The characters are the members of a small club who meet regularly,

consume great quantities of meat and drink, and frequently indulge in

immoderate clowning. The talk is endless, and is often tedious in the

extreme. At times Wilson rises into striking descriptive passages,

more florid and less impressive than De Quincey’s, but beautiful in a

sentimental fashion. His taste, however, cannot be trusted, and his

humor is too often crude and boisterous.

=4. John G. Lockhart (1794–1854)= was born at Cambusnethan, educated at

Glasgow and Oxford, and became a member of the Scottish Bar. He soon

(1817) became a regular contributor to _Blackwood’s Magazine_, sharing

in its strong Tory views and its still stronger expression of them. He

rather gloried in these literary and political fisticuffs, which in one

case led to actual bloodshed, though he did not participate in it. In

1820 he married Scott’s favorite daughter Sophia, and lived to be the

biographer of his famous father-in-law. He was editor of _The Quarterly

Review_ from 1826 till 1852.

Lockhart wrote four novels, the best of which are _Valerius_ (1821)

and _Adam Blair_ (1822). They are painstaking endeavors, but they

lack the fire of genius, and are now almost forgotten. His poetry is

quite lively and attractive, especially his _Spanish Ballads_ (1821).

_Peter’s Letters to his Kinsfolk_ (1819) is a collection of brilliant

sketches of Edinburgh society. Lockhart’s fame, however, rests on _The

Life of Scott_ (1837–38), which was first published in seven volumes.

This book ranks as one of the great biographies in the language. Though

it is full of intimate and loving detail, it possesses a fine sense

of perspective and coherence; and while it is influenced by a natural

partiality for its subject, the story is judiciously told. In this book

Lockhart casts aside his aggressiveness of manner. His descriptions,

as, for example, that of the death of Scott, have a masterly touch.

=5. William Cobbett (1762–1835)= was born at Farnham, Surrey, and

was the son of a farm-laborer. He enlisted in the Army, rose to be

sergeant-major, emigrated to America, where he took to journalism, and

returned to England, to become actively engaged in politics. In 1835 he

was elected to Parliament, but was not a success as a public man. He

was a man of violent opinions, boxed the political compass, and died an

extreme Radical.

He was an assiduous journalist, beginning with _Peter Porcupine’s

Journal_ (1801). His other paper was his _Political Register_, which he

began in 1802 and carried on till 1835. His further literary work is

contained in his _Rural Rides in England_. He writes with an unaffected

simplicity that reminds the reader of Bunyan, and his descriptions of

contemporary England are clear and forcible.

=6.= The =historians= belonging to this period are both numerous and

important, but we can mention only a few.

(_a_) =Henry Hart Milman (1791–1868)= was educated at Eton and Oxford,

and afterward wrote some plays, including the tragedy _Fazio_ (1817).

His chief historical works are _The History of the Jews_ (1829) and

_The History of Latin Christianity_ (1856). Milman is a solid and

reliable historian, with a readable style.

(_b_) =George Grote (1794–1871)= was a London banker, and entered

politics. His _History of Greece_ (1846–56) is based on German

research, and is well informed and scholarly. The work, however, is

sometimes considered to be too long and tedious in its detail.

(_c_) =Henry Hallam (1777–1859)= was a member of the Middle Temple,

but he practiced very little. He wrote on both literary and historical

subjects, and contributed to _The Edinburgh Review_. His historical

works include _A Constitutional History of England_ (1827) and _An

Introduction to the Literature of Europe_ (1838–39). Hallam acquired

a great and deserved reputation for solid scholarship. Like Gibbon,

he tried to attune his style to his subject, and wrote in a grave and

impressive manner, but, lacking the genius of Gibbon, he succeeded only

in making his style lifeless and frigid.

THE DEVELOPMENT OF LITERARY FORMS

The amount of actual development during this period was not so great

as the immense output. Authors were content with the standard literary

forms, and it was upon these as models that the development took place.

=1. Poetry.= (_a_) This was indeed the golden age of the _lyric_,

which reflected the Romantic spirit of the time in liberal and varied

measure. It comprised the exalted passion of Shelley, the meditative

simplicity of Wordsworth, the sumptuous descriptions of Keats, and the

golden notes of Coleridge. It is to be noted that in form the lyric

employed the ancient externals of the stereotyped meters and rhymes.

There was some attempt at rhymeless poems in the work of Southey and

the early poems of Shelley, but this practice was never general.

(_b_) With _descriptive and narrative poems_ the age was richly

endowed. One has only to recall Byron’s early work, Keats’s tales,

Coleridge’s supernatural stories, and Scott’s martial and historical

romances to perceive how rich was the harvest. Once more the poets

work upon older methods. The Spenserian stanza is the favorite model,

but the ballad is nearly as popular. These older types suffered some

change, as was almost inevitable with such inspired minds at work

upon them. The Spenserian manner was loosened and strengthened; it was

given richer and more varied beauties in _The Eve of St. Agnes_, and

a sharper and more personal note in the _Childe Harold_ of Byron. In

the case of Wordsworth we observe the frequent use of blank verse for

meditative purposes, as in _The Prelude_.

(_c_) _Satirical poems_ were numerous; and their tone was fierce, for

the success of the French Revolution led to the expression of new hopes

and desires. Outstanding examples were Byron’s _Don Juan_ and _The

Vision of Judgment_ and Shelley’s _Masque of Anarchy_.

=2. Drama.= Drama was written as freely as ever, but rather as a form

of literary exercise than as a serious attempt at creating a new

dramatic standard. Tragedy almost monopolized the activities of the

major poets. Of all the tragedies Shelley’s _Cenci_ came first in power

and simplicity. Byron’s tragedies had little merit as dramas; and

Wordsworth’s _Borderers_ and Coleridge’s _Remorse_ added little to the

fame of their authors.

The comic spirit in drama was in abeyance. Shelley’s _Œdipus Tyrannus,

or Swellfoot the Tyrant_, is almost the only instance of it worth

mention, and this was a poor specimen of that writer’s creative power.

=3. Prose.= (_a_) _The Novel._ Of the different kinds of prose

composition, the novel showed in this period the most marked

development. This was largely due to the work of Scott and Jane Austen,

who respectively established the historical and domestic types of novel.

With regard to the work of Scott, we can here only briefly summarize

what has already been said. He raised the historical novel to the rank

of one of the major kinds of literature; he brought to it knowledge,

and through the divine gift of knowledge made it true to life; he fired

historical characters with living energy; he set on foot the device

of the unhistorical hero--that is, he made the chief character purely

fictitious, and caused the historical persons to rotate about it; he

established a style that suited many periods of history; and pervading

all these advances was a great and genial personality that transformed

what might have been mere lumber into an artistic product of truth and

beauty.

Miss Austen’s achievement was of a different kind. She revealed the

beauty and interest that underlie ordinary affairs; she displayed the

infinite variety of common life, and so she opened an inexhaustible

vein that her successors were assiduously to develop.

Most of the other novelists of the time were either imitators of Scott,

like James and Ainsworth, or a combination of Scott and Miss Austen,

like Bulwer-Lytton. Disraeli developed a rather different species in

his brilliant society novels, which depended for their chief effects

on satiric insight and caustic epigram. _Tancred_ is probably the

best of this species.

(_b_) _Periodical Literature._ At the beginning of this chapter we

noted the chief members of a great new community of literary journals.

These periodicals were of a new type. Previous literary journals, like

_The Gentleman’s Magazine_ (1731), had been feeble productions, the

work of elegant amateurs or underpaid hack-writers. Such papers had

little weight. The new journals were supreme in the literary world;

they attracted the best talent; they inspired fear and respect; and

in spite of many defects their literary product was worthy of their

reputation.

(_c_) _The Essay._ Finding a fresh outlet in the new type of

periodical, the essay acquired additional importance. The purely

literary essay, exemplified in the works of Southey, Hazlitt,

and Lockhart, increased in length and solidity. It now became a

review--that is, a commentary on a book or books under immediate

inspection, but in addition expounding the wider theories and opinions

of the reviewer. This new species of essay was to be developed still

further in the works of Carlyle and Macaulay.

The miscellaneous essay, represented in the works of Lamb, likewise,

acquired an increased dignity. It was growing beyond the limits set by

Addison and Johnson. It was more labored and aspiring, and contained

many more mannerisms of the author. This kind also was to develop in

the hands of the succeeding generation.

(_d_) Other prose works must receive scanty notice. The art of

letter-writing still flourished, as can be seen in the works of Byron,

Shelley, and Lamb. Lamb in particular has a charm that reminds the

reader of that of Cowper. Byron’s letters, though egotistical enough,

are breezy and humorous.

Biographical work is adequately represented in _The Life of Byron_,

by Moore, and _The Life of Scott_, by Lockhart. These books in their

general outlines follow the model of Boswell, though they do not

possess the artless self-revelation of their great predecessor.

There is an advance shown by their division into chapters and other

convenient stages, a useful arrangement that Boswell did not adopt.

The amount of historical research was very great, and the historians

ranged abroad and tilled many fields; but in their general methods

there was little advance on the work of their predecessors.

THE DEVELOPMENT OF LITERARY STYLE

=1. Poetry.= This period being instinct with the spirit of revolt,

it may be taken for granted that in poetic style there is a great range

of effort and experiment. The general tendency is toward simplicity

of diction and away from the mannerisms of the eighteenth century. In

the case of the major poets, the one who comes nearest in style to the

eighteenth century is Byron; next to him, in spite of his theories of

simplicity, comes Wordsworth, who has a curious inflation of style that

is kept within bounds only by his intense imaginative power. The best

work of Coleridge and Shelley is marked by the greatest simplicity;

but, on the other hand, Keats is too fond of golden diction to resist

the temptation to be ornate.

=2. Prose.= In this period we behold the dissolution of the more

formal prose style of the previous century. With this process the

journalists and miscellaneous prose-writers have much to do. In the

place of the older type we see a general tendency toward a useful

middle style, as in the books of Southey and Hazlitt. Outside this

mass of middle prose we have a range from the greatest simplicity to

the highest efforts of poetic prose. At one end of the scale we have

the perfectly plain style of Cobbett. The passage we give (from the

_Rural Rides_) could not be simpler, but it is energetic and

expressive:

When I returned to England in 1800, after an absence from the

country parts of it for sixteen years, the trees, the hedges,

even the parks and woods, seemed so small! It made me laugh to

hear little gutters, that I could jump over, called rivers. The

Thames was but a ‘creek!’ But when in about a month after my

arrival in London, I went to Farnham, the place of my birth,

what was my surprise! Every thing was become so pitifully small!

I had to cross in my postchaise the long and dreary heath of

Bagshot. Then at the end of it, to mount a hill called Hungry

Hill: and from that hill I knew that I should look down into the

beautiful and fertile vale of Farnham. My heart fluttered with

impatience, mixed with a sort of fear, to see all the scenes of

my childhood; for I had learned before the death of my father

and mother.

From Cobbett we range through a large number of writers, like Lockhart

and Miss Austen, who write in the usual middle style to the more

labored manner of Scott, who in his descriptive passages adopts a kind

of Johnsonese. When he writes in the Scots dialect he writes simply

and clearly, but in his heavier moods we have a style like that which

follows. Note the long and complicated sentences, and the labored

diction.

The brow of the hill, on which the Royal Life-Guards were now

drawn up, sloped downwards (on the side opposite to that which

they had ascended) with a gentle declivity for more than a

quarter of a mile, and presented ground which, though unequal in

some places, was not altogether unfavourable for the manœuvres

of cavalry, until near the bottom, when the slope terminated

in a marshy level, traversed through its whole length by what

seemed either a natural gully or a deep artificial drain, the

sides of which were broken by springs, trenches filled with

water, out of which peats and turf had been dug, and here

and there by some straggling thickets of alders, which loved

the moistness so well that they continued to live as bushes,

although too much dwarfed by the sour soil and the stagnant

bog-water to ascend into trees. Beyond this ditch or gully the

ground arose into a second heathy swell, or rather hill, near to

the foot of which, and as if with the object of defending the

broken ground and ditch that covered their front, the body of

insurgents appeared to be drawn up with the purpose of abiding

battle.

_Old Mortality_

From Scott the evolution of style can be traced through the mannered,

half-humorous ornateness of Lamb to the florid poetic prose of Wilson

and the dithyrambic periods of De Quincey. As a final specimen we give

an extract from the _Noctes Ambrosianæ_. The style is fervidly

exclamatory, but it lacks the depth of De Quincey’s at its best.

_Shepherd._ Oh that I had been a sailor! To hae

circumnavigated the world! To hae pitched our tents, or built

our bowers, on the shores o’ bays sae glittering wi’ league-long

wreaths o’ shells, that the billows blushed crimson as they

murmured! To hae seen our flags burning meteor-like, high up

among the primeval woods, while birds, bright as bunting, sat

trimming their plumage amang the cordage, sae tame in that

island where ship had haply never touched before, nor ever might

touch again, lying in a latitude by itself, and far out of the

breath o’ the tradewinds! Or to hae landed with a’ the crew,

marines and a’--except a guard on shipboard to keep aff the

crowd o’ canoes--on some warlike isle, tossing wi’ the plumes on

chieftain’s heads, and sound--sound--sounding wi’ gongs! What’s

a man-o’-war’s barge, Mr Tickler, beautiful sight tho’ it be, to

the hundred-oared canoe o’ some savage Island-king!

TABLE TO ILLUSTRATE THE DEVELOPMENT OF LITERARY FORMS

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|1810| | | | | | | |Southey |

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|1830| | | | | |Marryat | | |

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EXERCISES

1. Below are given two extracts on autumn, one written by Keats and one

by Shelley. Compare them carefully with regard to selection of details,

style, and meter. How far does each reflect the nature of its author?

(1) Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness!

Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;

Conspiring with him how to load and bless

With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;

To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees,

And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;

To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells

With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,

And still more, later flowers for the bees,

Until they think warm days will never cease;

For Summer has o’er-brimmed their clammy cells.

KEATS, _Ode to Autumn_

(2) The warm sun is failing, the bleak wind is wailing,

The bare boughs are sighing, the pale flowers are dying,

And the Year

On the earth her death-bed, in a shroud of leaves dead,

Is lying.

Come, Months, come away,

From November to May,

In your saddest array;

Follow the bier

Of the dead cold Year,

And like dim shadows watch by her sepulchre.

SHELLEY, _Autumn: A Dirge_

2. From an examination of the following extracts, and from what has

already been said regarding their respective authors, write a brief

account of the style of the authors. How do the extracts compare as

regards clearness, lucidity, and melody?

(1) During the first year that Mr Wordsworth and I were

neighbours, our conversations turned frequently on the two

cardinal points of poetry, the power of exciting the sympathy of

the reader by a faithful adherence to the truth of nature, and

the power of giving the interest of novelty by the modifying

colours of imagination. The sudden charm, which accidents of

light and shade, which moonlight or sunset diffused over a known

and familiar landscape, appeared to represent the practicability

of combining both. These are the poetry of nature. The thought

suggested itself (to which of us I do not recollect) that a

series of poems might be composed of two sorts. In the one, the

incidents and agents were to be, in part at least, supernatural;

and the excellence aimed at was to consist in the interesting of

the affections by the dramatic truth of such emotions, as would

naturally accompany such situations, supposing them real. And

real in this sense they have been to every human being who, from

whatever source of delusion, has at any time believed himself

under supernatural agency. For the second class, subjects were

to be chosen from ordinary life; the characters and incidents

were to be such, as will be found in every village and its

vicinity, where there is a meditative and feeling mind to seek

after them, or to notice them, when they present themselves.

COLERIDGE, _Biographia Literaria_

(2) I thought that it was a Sunday morning in May, that it was

Easter Sunday, and as yet very early in the morning. I was

standing, as it seemed to me, at the door of my own cottage.

Right before me lay the very scene which could really be

commanded from that situation, but exalted, as was usual,

and solemnised by the power of dreams. There were the same

mountains, and the same lovely valley at their feet; but the

mountains were raised to more than alpine height, and there

was interspace far larger between them of meadows and forest

lawns; the hedges were rich with white roses; and no living

creature was to be seen, excepting that in the green churchyard

there were cattle tranquilly reposing upon the verdant graves,

and particularly round about the grave of a child whom I had

tenderly loved, just as I had really beheld them, a little

before sunrise in the same summer, when that child died.

DE QUINCEY,

_The Confessions of an English Opium-Eater_

(3) When a child, what a mysterious pleasure it was to witness

their operation!--to see a chit no bigger than one’s-self enter,

one knew not by what process, into what seemed the _fauces

Averni_--to pursue him in imagination, as he went sounding

on through so many dark stifling caverns, horrid shades!--to

shudder with the idea that “now, surely, he must be lost for

ever!”--to revive at hearing his feeble shout of discovered

daylight--and then (O fulness of delight!) running out of doors,

to come just in time to see the sable phenomenon emerge in

safety, the brandished weapon of his art victorious like some

flag waved over a conquered citadel! I seem to remember having

been told that a bad sweep was once left in a stack with his

brush, to indicate which way the wind blew. It was an awful

spectacle certainly; not much unlike the old stage direction in

_Macbeth_, where the “Apparition of a child crowned, with a

tree in his hand, rises.”

LAMB, _The Praise of Chimney-Sweepers_

(4) If a young reader should ask, after all, What is the best

way of knowing bad poets from good, the best poets from the

next best, and so on? the answer is, the only and two-fold

way; first, the perusal of the best poets with the greatest

attention; and second, the cultivation of that love of truth

and beauty which made them what they are. Every true reader of

poetry partakes of a more than ordinary portion of the poetic

nature; and no one can be completely such, who does not love,

or take an interest in everything that interests the poet, from

the firmament to the daisy--from the highest heart of man, to

the most pitiable of the low. It is a good practice to read

with pen in hand, marking what is liked or doubted. It rivets

the attention, realises the greatest amount of enjoyment, and

facilitates reference. It enables the reader also, from time to

time, to see what progress he makes with his own mind, and how

it grows up to the stature of its exalter.

LEIGH HUNT, _Letters_

3. Each of the following extracts from narrative poetry is an example

of the Romantic style. How is the Romantic spirit revealed in each, and

how far is each different from the others?

(1) The moving Moon went up the sky,

And nowhere did abide:

Softly she was going up,

And a star or two beside--

Her beams bemock’d the sultry main,

Like April hoar-frost spread;

But where the ship’s huge shadow lay,

The charmed water burnt alway

A still and awful red.

Beyond the shadow of the ship,

I watch’d the water-snakes:

They mov’d in tracks of shining white,

And when they rear’d, the elfish light

Fell off in hoary flakes.

Within the shadow of the ship

I watch’d their rich attire:

Blue, glossy green, and velvet black,

They coil’d and swam; and every track

Was a flash of golden fire.

COLERIDGE, _The Rime of the Ancient Mariner_

(2) And still she slept an azure-lidded sleep,

In blanched linen, smooth, and lavendered,

While he forth from the closet brought a heap

Of candied apple, quince, and plum, and gourd,

With jellies soother than the creamy curd,

And lucent syrops, tinct with cinnamon,

Manna and dates, in argosy transferred

From Fez; and spiced dainties, every one,

From silken Samarcand to cedared Lebanon.

KEATS, _The Eve of St. Agnes_

(3) Like adder darting from his coil,

Like wolf that dashes through the toil,

Like mountain-cat who guards her young,

Full at Fitz-James’s throat he sprung;

Received, but recked not of a wound,

And locked his arms his foeman round.

Now, gallant Saxon, hold thine own!

No maiden’s hand is round thee thrown!

That desperate grasp thy frame might feel,

Through bars of brass and triple steel!

They tug, they strain; down, down they go,

The Gael above, Fitz-James below!

The Chieftain’s gripe his throat compressed,

His knee was planted on his breast;

His clotted locks he backward threw,

Across his brow his hand he drew,

From blood and mist to clear his sight,

Then gleamed aloft his dagger bright!

SCOTT, _The Lady of the Lake_

(4) While thus they spake, the angelic caravan,

Arriving like a rush of mighty wind,

Cleaving the fields of space, as doth the swan

Some silver stream (say Ganges, Nile, or Inde,

Or Thames, or Tweed), and ’midst them an old man

With an old soul, and both extremely blind,

Halted before the gate, and in his shroud

Seated their fellow traveller on a cloud.

But bringing up the rear of this bright host

A Spirit of a different aspect waved

His wings, like thunder-clouds above some coast

Whose barren beach with frequent wrecks is paved;

His brow was like the deep when tempest-toss’d;

Fierce and unfathomable thoughts engraved

Eternal wrath on his immortal face,

And _where_ he gazed a gloom pervaded space.

BYRON, _The Vision of Judgment_

4. The two following extracts represent two styles used by Scott. How

far is each appropriate to the characters, the period, and the occasion

of each novel? Which seems the more natural? How does this compare with

Shakespeare’s use of prose and blank verse in his plays?

(1) “Od, here’s another,” quoth Mrs Mailsetter. “A

ship-letter--post-mark, Sunderland.” All rushed to seize

it.--“Na, na, leddies,” said Mrs Mailsetter, interfering; “I hae

had eneugh o’ that wark--ken ye that Mr Mailsetter got an unco

rebuke frae the secretary at Edinburgh, for a complaint that

was made about the letter of Aily Bisset’s that ye opened, Mrs

Shortcake?”

“Me opened!” answered the spouse of the chief baker of Fairport;

“ye ken yoursel’, madam, it just cam open o’ free will in my

hand--what could I help it?--folk suld seal wi’ better wax.”

“Weel I wot that’s true, too,” said Mrs Mailsetter, who kept a

shop of small wares, “and we have got some that I can honestly

recommend, if ye ken onybody wanting it. But the short and the

lang o’t is, that we’ll lose the place gin there’s ony mair

complaints o’ the kind.”

“Hout, lass--the provost will take care o’ that.”

“Na, na--I’ll neither trust to provost nor bailie,” said the

postmistress,--“but I wad ay be obliging and neighbourly,

and I’m no again your looking at the outside of a letter

neither.--See, the seal has an anchor on’t--he’s done’t wi’ ane

o’ his buttons, I’m thinking.”

_The Antiquary_

(2) “And these are all nobles of Araby?” said Richard, looking

around on wild forms with their persons covered with haiks,

their countenances swart with the sunbeams, their teeth as

white as ivory, their black eyes glancing with fierce and

preternatural lustre from under the shade of their turbans, and

their dress being in general simple, even to meanness.

“They claim such rank,” said Saladin; “but, though numerous,

they are within the conditions of the treaty, and bear no arms

but the sabre--even the iron of their lances is left behind.”

“I fear,” muttered De Vaux in English, “they have left them

where they can be soon found.--A most flourishing House of

Peers, I confess, and would find Westminster Hall something too

narrow for them.”

“Hush, De Vaux,” said Richard, “I command thee.--Noble

Saladin,” he said, “suspicion and thou cannot exist on the same

ground.--Seest thou,” pointing to the litters--“I too have

brought some champions with me, though armed, perhaps, in breach

of agreement, for bright eyes and fair features are weapons

which cannot be left behind.”

_The Talisman_

5. Compare Wordsworth’s view of nature with that of Byron, as revealed

in the two following extracts. Which view seems to be the deeper and

clearer? How far does each reflect the life and habits of the author?

(1) The sounding cataract

Haunted me like a passion; the tall rock,

The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood,

Their colours and their forms, were then to me

An appetite; a feeling and a love

That had no need of a remoter charm,

By thought supplied, or any interest

Unborrowed from the eye. That time is past,

And all its aching joys are now no more,

And all its dizzy raptures. Not for this

Faint I, nor mourn, nor murmur; other gifts

Have followed,--for such loss, I would believe,

Abundant recompense. For I have learned

To look on nature, not as in the hour

Of thoughtless youth, but hearing oftentimes

The still, sad music of humanity,

Nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power

To chasten and subdue.

WORDSWORTH, _Tintern Abbey_

(2) And I have loved thee, Ocean! and my joy

Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be

Borne like thy bubbles, onward: from a boy

I wantoned with thy breakers, they to me

Were a delight; and if the freshening sea

Made them a terror,’twas a pleasing fear,

For I was as it were a child of thee,

And trusted to thy billows far and near,

And laid my hand upon thy mane--as I do here.

BYRON, _Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage_

6. The first extract below gives Shelley’s idea of the cause of Keats’s

death. Compare it with the more cynical utterance of Byron, quoted

next. How far does each extract reveal the author’s attitude toward

life in general? How far is each statement true?

(1) Our Adonais has drunk poison--oh!

What deaf and viperous murderer could crown

Life’s early cup with such a draught of woe?

The nameless worm would now itself disown:

It felt, yet could escape, the magic tone

Whose prelude held all envy, hate, and wrong,

But what was howling in one breast alone,

Silent with expectation of the song,

Whose master’s hand is cold, whose silver lyre unstrung.

_Adonais_

(2) John Keats, who was killed off with one critique,

Just as he really promised something great,

If not intelligible, without Greek

Contrived to talk about the gods of late,

Much as they might have been supposed to speak.

Poor fellow! His was an untoward fate;

’Tis strange the mind, that very fiery particle,

Should of itself be snuffed out by an article.

_Don Juan_

7. Compare Scott and Coleridge as narrative poets.

8. How far does the supernatural enter into the work of Scott, Shelley,

and Coleridge? Give a brief account of each.

9. Mention some of the chief literary critics of the period. What are

the main features of their criticism?

10. Give an account of the contemporary drama, naming some of the chief

plays and giving a criticism of their principal features.

11. What use do Shelley, Keats, and Coleridge make of natural features?

How do their attitudes compare with that of Wordsworth?

12. Write a note on the chief satirists of the period both in prose and

poetry.

13. Estimate the importance of Scott’s contribution to the novel.

14. Who are the chief lyrical poets of the period? Point out their

respective excellences and defects.

15. “In the earliest years of the nineteenth century, all the

influences which were most harmful to prose style were most rife. The

best elements of the eighteenth-century prose were gone, and a new host

were rushing into literature.” (Craik.) What were the influences that

were at work? How far did they affect prose style? How far did the

influence of journalism affect prose style?

16. “In point of genius the period is a period of poetry; in point of

mere form the remarkable change in it concerns not poetry but prose.”

(Saintsbury.) Discuss this statement. How far do the poets excel the

prose-writers in merit? Did the prose-writers revolt more strongly

against the earlier fashions?

17. “_The Excursion_ and _The Prelude_, his poems of greatest bulk, are

by no means Wordsworth’s best work. His best work is in his shorter

pieces.” (Matthew Arnold.) Discuss this statement.

=7. James Hogg (1770–1835).= Hogg became known to the world as “the