which was more or less due to the period of seclusion which followed the death of his wife, and a few smaller exceptions, especially among the "Dramatic Idylls," his later poems gave no impression of the same kind of subduing intellectual necessity and ardor. They are often gritty in thought and jolting in expression, as well as very obscure,

should never have had a Wordsworth, | we can clearly see is, that so far as the just as in the nineteenth century we special influence of the nineteenth cencould not in any case have had an tury is concerned, it acts distractingly Isaiah or a Micah. Genius such as rather than favorably on gifts of this Shakespeare's, or Milton's, or Words- unique order. We think we can see in worth's, or Scott's, or Tennyson's, is the case of Browning, for instance, how almost inconsistent with the multiplied the genius of the man was frittered distractions of a highly intellectual and away by the distractions of society, and critical age. The multifarious wonders the multiplied interests which attracted and interests which cultivate the under- his shrewd intelligence. What he wrote standing, and awaken the curiosity, and while he was comparatively unknown discipline the reason, and suggest skil- was occasionally hardly intelligible to ful experiments, and train lucid expo- the world (as in the case of "Sorsition, and educate fine discrimination | dello "), but for the most part it was and judicious criticism and intelligent written under a profound sense of intelappreciation, are not only not subser- lectual compulsion, or, as the old world vient to, but are positively inconsistent said, inspiration. But, with one great with, that concentration of the imagina- exception, "The Ring and the Book," tion on high themes and vivid anticipations of the whole drift of human life and emotion, which are essential to the higher genius. One of the most potent of all reasons why genius of the higher kind is now so seldom vouchsafed to us, is that for all ability and intelligence of the second-rate kind there are such infinitely varied occupations and interests, that there is hardly and embody none of the passion conany opportunity afforded for so dream- tained in such poems as "Pippa ing and musing and following the Passes," or "Two in the Campagna," deeper currents of human suggestion, or "El-Karshish, the Arabian Physias the prophets and poets of the greatest cian," or "The Bishop orders his Tomb moments of literature have always at St. Praxed's Church," or "Bishop dreamed and mused and sounded the Blougram's Apology," or "Christmas depths of their own hearts. The great Eve and Easter Day," or even The difference between the kinds of ability Grammarian's Funeral," or twenty and capacity which are now more com- others. The distractions of the world mon than ever, and the higher forms told upon him, and diverted him from of genius, is, we think, this, that the that concentrated devotion to the former depend upon the due division of themes most suited to his own genius labor, the careful study of appropriate which was essential to their perfect means and methods of intellectual dis-rendering; so that when he came to cipline, in a word, on the accumulation write, he only gave us a hasty and conof suitable intellectual experience; fused version of his own meditations. while the latter depend upon the care- The distractions of a world of scientific ful fostering of unique and only half- research and astounding discoveries, understood instincts and powers, such and inventions so ingenious that the as induced the prophets of the Jewish human mind itself seems almost people to retire into the wilderness, or dwarfed by its own newest instruments, in our own century sent up Wordsworth all militate against that cherishing of to his retreat amongst the Cumberland the half unconscious instincts of true hills, Thomas Carlyle into his Dum- genius essential to the meditative ma-friesshire fastness, and Alfred Tennyson turing of great gifts.

to his seashore ruminations. Now, what

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From The National Review.

THE CHILDREN OF FICTION.

we

Love's of man's life a thing apart, 'Tis woman's whole existence,

In a

good many modern novels the interest begins with marriage. In the complications which arise children must play an important part, if for no other reason than that the better and the worse characteristics of parents are brought out in their treatment of their children. There is no truer touch in Thackeray than the different way in which Rawdon Crawley and Becky his wife-née Sharpe treat their infant son. It would have

IF it be asked how children have know as a matter of daily expericome to occupy their present prominent ence that life is a very complex affair, position in literature, I think that the and that love as understood by poets reply must be that it is due in a great and writers of fiction plays in it a somedegree to the realistic tendency of mod- what subordinate part. Lord Lytton ern fiction. According to Mr. Hall long ago drew attention to the fact that Caine, the tide is turning, and romance marriage has a much greater influence is beginning to resume its former sway. on life than love. Men may or may not Howsoever this may be, the tide has marry the woman with whom they fancy been flowing in one direction for several they are in love; but if they marry at years, and that direction has been all, that fact more than any other detertowards an almost Pre-Raphaelite faith-mines the color of their lives. fulness of detail in depicting human life. In romance pure and simple there is no room for children. They may appear for a moment to heighten some tragic scene; but the larger joys and sorrows of grown-up men and women must keep children in the background. From fiction which sets before itself, as its main object, such a picture of life as ordinary persons will recognize to be a faithful representation of what they know to be true, children cannot be ex-been impossible to show more clearly cluded. The case was very different when the novel always closed with a wedding, or possibly more than one. Love was then the one theme of fiction. Its jealousies, complications, cold and hot fits, troubles, trials, and delights were ever to the front. No one was deemed worthy of notice until he fell in love; no one retained any claim upon attention after he was happily married. We might, perhaps, be presented with a picture of family life in the very last chapter of the third volume. Children's laughter is heard in the corridors of the noble home which enshrines the loving hearts of Edwin and Angelina. Children, the very image of their parents at the same age, lie upon the lawn at their parents' feet. But they are mere shadows which flit before our gaze for a moment, and then are gone for

ever.

They say nothing, and do nothing, and seem merely meant to assure the reader that there is no fear that the ancient families in which they have been taking such deep interest are likely to lack representatives in days to come. Whatever we may think of Lord Byron's oft-quoted dictum,

the tender-heartedness of the big, blustering, dull-witted soldier who hitherto has seemed to have no soul above billiards and other games of chance, and the cold, calculating selfishness of Becky, than in the scene where Rawdon plays with his boy in the nursery, while Becky flirts with the hateful old Lord Steyne in the drawing-room.

No picture of life which does not include children can be true to nature in a wide and general view of the forces which make up the sum and substance of human existence. Writers of fiction possessed by the realistic tendency of the age have felt this and acted accordingly. The same tendency is seen in modern works of art. Modern painters have been careful to delineate both the humorous and the pathetic side of childlife. Let any one compare the pictures of the second half of the nineteenth century with those of a previous period, and he will be forced to admit that in art as well as in literature children now occupy a foremost position. Whether art or literature led the way in the new development is not easy to determine. Probably the change was simultaneous.

Those who can really make children talk in natural fashion know that the wit put into their mouths need not be of a very exalted sort to evoke laughter. They know, too, that the passionate sorrows of childhood- stormy and tempestuous as a day in early spring, and, like such storms, brief of duration are sure to awaken sympathy in hearts which are less ready to feel acutely the

The remarkable thing is that it did not | the main motive is far removed from happen sooner. Writers have always the joys and sorrows of childhood, they felt the need of new interests; it is come in to brighten pages which might strange that they did not long ago per- otherwise be dull. ceive that in children they could find what they wanted. The beauties of spring have never lacked laudation. Some of us are inclined to think that its glories have been unduly praised. We are a little jealous for the glory of summer and autumn. Still, we freely admit that every spring is a recurring miracle, bringing with it brightness and beauty and promise of a future better than any past. Is it not so with child-woes of maturer life. The records of hood? It has unknown possibilities; it the bookselling trade prove that no topic has a present full of interest, because it touches the public heart so swiftly, so is as yet fresh and fair and unspoiled surely, and so continuously, as does by worldliness. Nor does it interest child-life. I have already, in the Napeople of one time of life. The young tional Review, pointed out that it is to delight in youth. They may, indeed, women that we are indebted for many sometimes desire to be grown up, be- of the best stories in this department of cause they fancy that they will be more literature. Their careful attention to able to do as they like delusive idea! minute detail, and their readiness to -but they are always full of the feeling reproduce faithfully what many men that old age is a terrible thing. They might regard as mere trivialities, give draw towards one another in a way that to women a great advantage in dealing+ now and again brings a pang unreason- with the lives of the young. able, perhaps, to the hearts of parents who have tried to be friends and companions of their children. The writer who can make children move and talk like children is sure of their adhesion. Nor will such a writer lack readers among "children of a larger growth."

In her own way Miss Rhoda Broughton takes a high place in this class of literature. Her children are nearly always those of the upper part of the middle class. They are never too good, nor are they monsters of mischief.

It may, perhaps, be said that the Let two grey-headed men who have young people who play such a promiknown each other in childish days nent part in "Nancy " are hardly chilget together, and they will soon sink dren. Even Tou Tou, of the thin legs into talk about their early days. The and the short frocks, would scarcely be very memory of childish merriment kept in the nursery unless she belonged makes them laugh as they seldom laugh to a family of position, one, moreover, nowadays. How the old jokes renew where the father is a somewhat terrible their youth! They see themselves as personage, who takes small pleasure in they were some fifty years ago. They the witticisms and amusements of youth. almost feel as if time had stood still. In many homes children, long before Those who have children of their own, they reach the age of Nancy and Baror who see still in memory the figures bara, Algy, Bobby, and the Brat, are of little ones who have passed away, the companions of their parents, and delight in books which give true pictures have no separate life in nursery or of child-life. Hence it has come to pass schoolroom. Considering, however, the that the literature which deals with the conditions supposed to exist in Nancy's lives of children has an enormous sale, home, we feel that nothing can be better and that much of the best talent of the than the way these young folks talk time is taken up in producing stories and act. They criticise one another, about children. Even in books where make jokes at one another's expense,