The Charleston daily news. [volume] (Charleston, S.C.) 1865-1873, 1868-12-03
REVIEWS.

may be-and the name, if we are not mistaken,
is a new one in the world of letters-he has
made no mean contribution to the fictitious
literature of the day in this record of the occu-
pations of retired life among the people of
s.Upper Mallowe." We say fictitious" itera-
ture because the form in which the book ap-
p,ars seems intended to convey the impress
sion of its being, in the conventional use Of
the term, fiction; but there is on air Of un-
conscious and unintentional verisimilitude
about the matter and manner Of the story,
which makes it hard to resist the belief that it
is really an old mans diary which are pc
rusing, and that the joys and sorrows, hopes,
palms. aches and recompcnses, cf which it is
the simple record, we're "really and truly" ex-
perienced by the persons with whose fates and
fortunes the unpretending chronicle deals. If,
however. this uraisembidnce be artistic, then
Mr. Garrett has achieved triumph not second
to that of the author OF ''The Household Of
Sir Thomas More" or of '"The Diary Of Lady
Willoughby;" "-perhaps, indeed, the triumph
is greater ono, inasmuch ls it is infinitely
moro difficult successfully TO initiate just such
contemporary chronicle as we have hore,
than one of past age whose fluctuations are
at an end, whose distinctive peculiarities are
more easily caught, and where, if the repro
duction be less exact, criticism is. on the other
hand, very much less expert.
Whether wholly fictitious however, or foun-
ded upon actual occurrences, the story here
unfolded has quiet charm Of its own, for
| 4. ir,k la ~
preteutious narratives There is something
almost epigrammatic in the curt simplicity of
some of Ruth CARROTS observations, and a
blending of homely truth and poetic insight in
such passages as the following. which endues
them with infinite suggestion:
"Man's whole duty to man is service, and,
therefore, everybody is somebody's servant,
and he stands highest who best serves the
greatest number"
"a genius, to be above h;s fellowa, must be
d good, commonplace man, and something
besides. Is he higher than others for having
what they have not, if he lack something
which they have2 never blame the good old
woman who boxed King Alfred's ears be-
dered over his miserable country. Served him
right"
Everything must turn out Of ita way some
times or else crush something beneath it."
If the book has fault, it is perhaps, to be
found in this, that it is in parts, little too
didactic; though, even granting this, we would
find it hard to decide what portions to curtai-
the terse antithetic sentences OF Ruth, b,-the
shrewd and sagacious, if less pointed utter
arces of the author in his own person.
| quaint humor and sober common sense of the
old Scottish grandfather,-or the quiet beauty
of thought and speech which characterize gen.
tie Agnes Herbert.
We cannot but advise our readers cordially
to take the first opportunity of becoming ac-
quainted with the people Of upper Mallowe.'
| The book can bo found at Russell's.
| ALEC FORBES OF HowoLES. By George Mcdonald.
New York: Harper & Bros. Charleston John
Russoll.
When the history of the literature of the
nineteenth century comes to be written, the
chronicler thereof will not find it tho least por-
tim of his task simply to record the names OF
the novels which have achieved moderate sue
ccsses. indeed, the cleverness OF the day
seems to have effervesced in these literary
ioam-bubbcs to an extent which almost ex-
cludes priori the possibility OF decided ex-
coliencc in any of the great Departments of lit
crature. Where talent is diffnscd over so wide
an area, it is hopeless to look for those results
which attend only singular concentration and
exceptional merit. There are some wh) doubt
if VIC have any great poet. And, in regard to
the subject directly before us, the Westminster
Review has lately pathetically lamented our
want of really great novel. Nevertheless
what may be called the representative lit
eraturc of tho day, cmbodies in remark
able degree the peculiar spirit of the time,
and affords L not untrustworthy index OF the
march of mind. at least along many of the
byways of thought.
Especially is this true OF the stories OF Mr..
George Mcdonald, Of whose peculiar charac-
tcristcs Alec Forces is very favorable spec:-
mcr. 1t used 10 be q favoritc theory with a
certain class of critics that poetry and prose
were in their nature antagonistic, and the
position was supported by the dic!,tm that no
great poet ever wrote his poem in prose. The
advocates of an opposite theory might, per-
haps, be willing enough to accept the general
statement, it they were allowed to raise q
class of exceptions which this novel may well
illustrate. We do not think Mr.. Mcdonald
will ever be q great poet in the acceptance of
the Leigh Hunt school Of criticism, nor are
we prepared to assert that Alec Forbes is o
great or complete poem. Where, in two CT
three instances, he falls into we're, he does
not appear to us to be peculiarly happy. But
the man who would deny to the book the
charm of living, breathing poetic spirit, be-
ginning, continuing and ending Its perhaps
cumbrous but never inharmonious plot, would
surely be dullard with whom it would be
vain to argue. 1t is indeed difficult to deal
with it as With an ordinary novel, for the not
unnatural reason, probably, that it is precisely
very uncommon and extraordinary novel;
novel which perhaps VIC are hardly justified
in calling q novel at all, though it processes
so to be, but rather strange, yet never un-
melodious mingling OF pastoral idvll with
drama of living human passion, of q philo
sophical meditation with comedy OF pro-
foundest humor and pathos. Between the
child-lifc and child-love of Alec and Annie at
Glamerton, and the turbulent student career
IN the university city, blended with the fierce