1884.] on the Art of Fiction. .79 



much are we accustomed to expect it, that one feels as if there has been 

 a debasement of the Art. It is, fortunately, not possible in this 

 country for any man to defile and defame humanity and still be called 

 an artist ; the development of modern sympathy, the growing rever- 

 ence for the individual, the ever-widening love of things beautiful and 

 the appreciation of lives made beautiful by devotion and self-denial, 

 the sense of personal responsibility among the English-speaking 

 races, the deep-seated religion of our people, even in a time of doubt, 

 are all forces which act strongly upon the artist as well as upon his 

 readers, and lend to his work, whether he will or not, a moral purpose 

 so clearly marked that it has become practically a law of English 

 Fiction. We must acknowledge that this is a truly admirable thing, 

 and a great cause for congratulation. At the same time, one may be 

 permitted to think that the preaching novel is the least desirable of 

 any, and to be unfeignedly rejoiced that the old religious novel, 

 written in the interests of High Church or Low Church or any other 

 Church, has gone out of fashion. 



Next, just as in Painting and Sculpture, not only are fidelity, 

 truth, and harmony to be observed in Fiction, but also beauty of 

 workmanship. It is almost impossible to estimate too highly the 

 value of careful workmanship, that is, of style. Every one, without 

 exception, of the great Masters in Fiction, has recognised this truth. 

 You will hardly find a single page in any of them which is not care- 

 fully and even elaborately worked up. I think there is no point on which 

 critics of novels should place greater importance than this, because it 

 is one which young novelists are so very liable to ignore. There 

 ought not to be in a novel, any more than in a poem, a single sentence 

 carelessly worded, a single phrase which has not been considered. 

 Consider, if you please, any one of the great scenes in Fiction — how 

 much of the effect is due to the style, the balanced sentences, the very 

 words used by the narrator ! This, however, is only one more point 

 of similarity between Fiction and the sister Arts. There is, 1 know, 

 the danger of attaching too much attention to style at the expense of 

 situation, and so falling a prey to priggishness, fashions, and man- 

 nerisms of the day. It is certainly a danger ; at the same time, it 

 sometimes seems, when one reads the slipshod, careless English which 

 is often thought good enough for story-telling, that it is almost 

 impossible to overrate the value of style. There is comfort in the 

 thought that no reputation worth having can be made without attend- 

 ing to style, and that there is no style, however rugged, which cannot 

 be made beautiful by attention and pains 



In fact, every scene, however unimportant, should be completely 

 and carefully finished. There should be no unfinished places, no sign 

 anywhere of weariness or haste — in fact, no scamping. The writer 

 must so love his work as to dwell tenderly on every page and be 

 literally unable to send forth a single page of it without the finishing 

 touches. We all of us remember that kind of novel in which every 

 scene has the appearance of being hurried and scamped. 



