New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1911-09-17

scter upon her art. We have indicated
how she lived for that art, giving all that
was Ia her to its service, but because she
could not simply, naturally, humbly and
with her whole heart link herself with
humanity. a kind Of dry and parching
wind blows dispiritingly over the field
that she covered. We note here curl
GUS difference between her and the in
dubitably great writer. Read the biog-
raphy of any novelist Of the highest
rank, say, Fielding, or Thackeray, or
Balzac, and the narrative is pervaded
with the atmosphere Of his work to such
an extent that one is always remember
ing his characters and his turns Of
thought. 1t is not so with this memoir,
fact which we observe the more mar
rowly for the reason that we have read 1t
just after rereading some half dozen Of
her books All along we are conscious,
it is true, Of John oliver Hobbies" Of
literary personality, but this has not
meant that the body Of her work has en-
rched our impression with any living
force. On the contrary, the actual novels
and plays remain outside the discussion,
as 1t were, things apart, documents for
reference rather than vital elements al
lied to the main theme. This is, perhaps,
but another way of saying that Mrs
Craigie's writings date" to use a
phrase latterly grown common in Eng
lish criticism; it amounts TO character
ization of them as pieces once amusing
for their cleverness but wanting In stay
ing power.
John oliver Hobbies" and Mrs. Craigie
were, after all, very much alike. The
writer, like the woman, had clearly de-
fined limitations. Those thoughts which
she believed were too mature for her
body were not, to speak quite frankly, as
mature as she considered them to be.
She was in love with the things Of the
mind, but she had not great intellectual
power. Somewhere in her letters she
speaks Of her experience of life, of hav-
ing seen life on all sides, but as a mat
ter of fact she exaggerated the depth
and the breadth of her observation.
When she addressed herself to the anal
ysis of character she meant to paint a
portrait, but it was her way, instead, to
draw a thumbnail sketch. Take, for ex-
ample, this passage out of "A Study in
Temptations:
Miss Bellarnine was not a maiden lady
Of that pathetic type who pour out tea and
who have once loved She was tall and OF
m M q
considered purely Greek. (Perhaps this was
because she had the good taste TO drape
IL with Partisan millinery OF modern date
She had really beautiful features If one eX-
amined them separately. but as a whole
they appeared out of drawing, as though
they had been picked off various antique
divinities and stuck on her face at ran
DOM Thus her nose began too soon, and
her mouth ended too late: whist her eyes.
charming in color and shape, were so placed
that they offered one constant temptation
to shift them either higher or lower. Her
expression was neutral, for her character,
like that of many English women, slum-
bered behind her countenance like dog
in it's kennel to come out growing or ami
able as circumstances might demand She
was highly accomplished and spoke five
languages with one well bred accent. The
ology was her recreation, but Villon the
serious study of her life. Her notes on this
poet promised 10 be the most exhaustive
possible, and "Bellarmine on Villon," II
was said, would be read like Coke on Lyt-
Teton, as much Tor the commentary as the
text.
How clever this is, and how amusing!
But is it not, as clearly, done from the
outside" and is not that the suggestion
conveyed by all of Mrs. Craigie's work?
Because she is so witty and because her
touch is so light and so artistic she is
almost infallibly entertaining. But the
entertainment Iasses, like some charm
ing bit OF froth. and if one reflects upon
it at all it is with a wistfuI regret that
an author so accomplished could have
lived and died with so imperfect grasp
upon the real issues OF life.
She was devout and charitable She
cared for the things that are not of this
world. But she could not reject this
world. The mundane spirit was in her
blood. Though she wrote of love and
Death. Of joy and sorrow, and sought to
pierce to the marrow of the things that
are strong, she was subject to q most de-