The Portland daily press., 1895-10-21

| For reasons not understood by this re-
viewer Thomas Hardy's Return of the
| Native" (Which made its appearance In
this country late in the seventies as a
serial story in Harper's Magazine and is
edition Of Hardy's novels to be found
on the counters of Loring, Short & Har
inon) has. not met with the general favor
accorded to others of his tales.
Yet, with the possible exception Of
"Tess, . it is the strongest and most
| finished book he has written To our
taste it is much more grateful than
"Tess''. 1t is in certain ways greater
book In it Hardy employs an exquisite
diction not be be found in any preceding
or following book by him.
The story is not of SO general interest
as some he has narrated, and does not
deal with SO large social problems; but it
is told with perfection of style he never
reached before and has not touched since.
Quite likely the title is unattractive to
curious readers The story should be
called, Egdon Heath: A Nocturne. I"
For the entire scene is on the sombre
moor to which he has chosen to attach
that name. and the important events oo-
cur at night Or it might be called "The
Troubled Life and Tragic Death of Eus-
tacia Vye." For in her he has drawn
the most enticing heroine-in mems eyes,
| at least-in later fiction.
| This may seem to those who have not
read the novel extravaganza praise To
them we commend the picture of Eus-
tacia, painted in the opening pages of the
seventh chapter, and ask what more
sumptuous woman has been limned in a
modern bookP
"Eustacia Wye as the raw material of
divinity. On Olympus she would have
done well with little preparation. She
| had the passions and instincts which
make a model goddess, that is, those
which make not quite model woman.
| Had it been possible for the earth and
mankind to be entirely in her grasp for a
while, had she handled the distaff, the
spindle, and the shears at her own free
will, few in the world would have noticed
the change of government. There would
have been the same inequality of lot. the
same heaping up of favors here, OF con
tumely there. the same generosity before
justice, the same perpetual dilemmas, the
same captious alienation of caresses and
blows that we endure now.
'tShe was in person full-limbed and
somewhat heavy; without ruddiness, as
without pallor; and soft to the touch as a
cloud. To see her hair was to fancy that
a whole winter did not contain darkness
enough to form it's shadow, it closed over
her forehead like nightfall exiting uishing
the western glow.
"Her nerves extended into those tresses,
and her temper could always be softened
| by stroking them down. When her hair
was brushed she would instantly sink
into stiffness and look like the Sphinx.
If, in passing under one of the Egdon
banks, any Of its thick skeins were caught
as they sometimes were, by the prickly
tuft Of the bush which will act as a sort
of hairbrush, she would go back few
steps, and pass against it a second time.
'She had Pagan eyes, full of nocturnal
mysteries. Their light, as it came and
went, and came again, was partially
hampered by their oppressive lids and
lashes and Of these the under lid was
m UGH fuller than it usually is with Eng
lish women. This enabled her to indulge
! in reverie without seeming to do SO; she
might have been believed capable Of Sleep
ing without closing them up. Assuming
that the souls Of men and women were
of Eustacia's soul to be fame-like. The
| sparks from it that rose into her dark
| pupils gave the same impression.
"The mouth seemed formed less to
speak than to culver, less to culver than
TO kiss Some might have added, less to
kiss than to curl. Viewed sideways, the
closing line of her lips formed, with al
most geometric precision, the curve so
we'll known in the arts of design as the
Gina -recta, or ogee. The sight of such a
flexible bend as that on grim Egdon was
quite an apparition. 1t was felt at once
that that mouth did not come over from
Sleswig with band Of Saxon pirates
whose lips met like the two halves of
a muffin. One had fanoied that such lip
curves were mostly lurking underground
in the South as fragments of forgotten
marbles. So fine were the lines of her
lips that, though full, each corner of her
mouth was as clearly cut as the point of
spar. This keenness of corner was only
blnnted when she was given over to sud
den fits of gloom, one Of the phases of
the night-side of sentiment which she
knew too well for her years
"Her presence brought memories of
such things as Bourbon roses, rubies,
and tropical midnights; her moods re-
called lotus-eaters and the march in
'Athalie her motions, the ebb and flow
of the sea; her voice. the VIOLA