A SPINSTER HEROINE.*
A Country Doctor is not an ordinary novel, but a very original story of an uncommon type. It treats of a subject of growing importance, the interest of which none will question—not even those who most keenly resent being asked to follow the fortunes of a heroine who, of her own free choice, rejects the honest love of an honest man which she in part returns. She has every reason to believe that her love, if not rooted out altogether, will become an overmastering passion and render it impossible for her to follow out the great aim of her young life. So she re- fuses to become engaged, and returns bravely to the field of her labour. Miss Jewett calls upon us to concur in Nan's decision, and, for our own part, we do concur in it heartily. The questions which are virtually asked in these pages are,—" Is married life the state best adapted to the genius of all women P" and "Do domestic duties develop, to the fullest extent, the best quali- ties and the highest aims and instincts of all women alike r- and the answer is distinctly "No," and in this verdict we concur. Neither we nor Miss Jewett deny that married life is the natural sphere for women as a whole class, nor that domestic duties are those in the performance of which she generally finds her best happiness and exerts her best and highest influence ; but there is no hard-and-fast line for all women, any more than there is for all men. All women are not fitted alike to be the centre and the reigning spirit of a quiet family group or social circle. All women who are asked in marriage, and who choose to accept the offer, can become wives, and may become mothers, and be surrounded by friends' children and children's friends, and that has seemed to satisfy society up to the present time. Those who have not been asked in marriage, or have not chosen to accept the offer, have generally been looked upon as more or less failures ; but no one seems to observe that not by any means all those who have accepted the responsibilities of married life are successes. In- deed, in our estimation, this is very far from being the case. How many cannot each one of us point out, among our own circle of acquaintances, who, as wives, mothers, and mistresses of servants, are failures ; not even failing alone, but involving others in their failures ! In saying this, we are putting entirely out of the question all those women who have made mar- riages of convenience,—who have married for position, title, houses, and carriages ; these, speaking roughly, deserve to fail. It may be said that women, now-a-days, are free, as a rule, to marry or to remain single as they please ; that very little restraint is put upon them in that respect ; and it is quite true, as far as direct restraint goes ; but a very great pressure of indirect restraint is still put upon women, by public opinion, to force them into the old groove, and the more delicate- minded and sensitive a woman is, the more strongly, though unconsciously, the aversion to being anything which would render her conspicuous acts upon her, unless some very strong and decided bent, fostered by circumstances, counteracts this influence, and helps her to take up an independent position. Life, to many women, offers nothing but monotony apart from marriage, and they are unduly ready to feel prejudiced in favour of the man who shows a way of escape from this mono- tony, and many apparent love-marriages are made, where the real love is given to the hope of a larger, fuller life ; which hope is too often delusive in the end, if the woman, through ignorance, has mistaken her longing and aspiration for better things, for love for the man who seems to bring them. No alteration in public opinion could prevent all such mistakes; but it could very much lessen the number of them by removing the artificial barrier between women and their own best natures.- It is, and always will be, sad when those natures point to other careers than marriage ; for women cannot—as men can—adopt with success professions in which their intellects are satisfied, and at the same time live in homes where their hearts must overrule their heads ; and thus a lady, successful in her profession, and exerting—to her own satisfaction—her intellectual capacities in youth and middle life, must not hope to be the mother surrounded by devoted children in her old age ; but it is better to be more or less sad and yet to live up to the best that is in you, than to choose what is only best in the abstract, and for which you are not fitted, and then fail altogether.
All this Miss Jewett brings out most admirably in this one short volume. Nan is an orphan, the ward of a
• A Conntro Doctor. By Barth Orne Jewett. 1 vol Boston, U.S.A. : Houghton, Mifflin, and Ca-; and Riverside Press, Cambridge. delightful country doctor, with whom she grows up ; driving by his side—or rather, driving him—through the country roads surrounding the New England village where his lot is cast, and taking in ardently the stray remarks which he makes now and then to his child-companion, upon herbs and surgery, health and disease; till, uncon- sciously, she imbibes an intense interest in the healing art, and develops a longing to be of like service to her fellow- creatures ; and she astonishes her guardian, one day, by binding- up the broken leg of a chicken, and nursing the little bird back to health with consummate skill. This achievement awakens in him dreams of future greatness for her, and from that time the doctor's mind is much occupied with thoughts of the future of his ward, to whom he is greatly attached. He considers care- fully her keen intellect and ardent temperament, her inherited virtues and vices—her mother's mother's family having been stern, reasonable, reliable people, capable of much endurance and much achievement by hard work ; and her mother's father's family having been wild and ungovernable, and somewhat ad- dicted to drink (a tendency which had ruined Nan's young mother)—and he sees in Nan a blending of the good in both, but also a decided craving for a stirring life. He decides that if she shows any leaning toward a profes- sional life, which will use up the energy that, unused, might become dangerous, he shall interpose nothing to the following-out of whatever career she may prefer ; but that he shall in no way do or suggest anything which might shut Nan out from the joys of a home and family,—which joys were his for a short time in his early years, and the memory of which was intensely dear to him. Accordingly, when Nan's schooldays are over, a short period of sixes-and-sevens ensues, during which she wanders aimlessly about, trying to solve the problem of whether "life is worth living," and wondering why she is here at all ; till, at last, the light breaks upon her, and she tells her guardian—with lips trembling and eyes down- cast at the audacity of the longing which fills her heart—that she wants to become a doctor. Thus, with Dr. Leslie's warm approval, Nan enters the paths of that learned profession, and presses forward with great success and intense pleasure through six years of study. But a moment comes when Nan, with a stunned and awestruck sensation, finds herself on the verge of returning the affection of a young man
who is her superior in worldly position—handsome, good, and attractive. She recognises the fact of what is about to happen, but she knows that in her heart of hearts she should be infinitely thankful if, in some way, this great tempta- tion might be removed from her. She looks back upon the hours devoted to medicine, considers the wasted life of her ardent young mother—to whom the ties of home duties had proved no hindrance to ruin—regards the quiet family circles around her, and deciding that the sacred life of wife and mother is not for her, turns away from it bravely, and throws herself with heart and soul into the sphere for which she has so eagerly and so happily been fitting herself. And we, for our own part—assuming, of course, that she has judged herself accurately—applaud her decision. There are, no doubt, unions which would open to women as widespread a field of usefulness as the heart most deeply imbued with the "enthusiasm of humanity" could desire, and which would satisfy the most exigeaut craver for a life of intellectual activity ; but such opportunities are not offered to the acceptance of many, and such probably was not the sphere which marriage with George Gerry would have opened to Nan.
Apatt from the interest in Nan's career, there is much that is delightful in A Country Doctor, though we con- fess that, after the first two chapters, the story travels for some distance somewhat slowly. The opening scenes —where the excellent Dyer family, with their quaint con- versation and their neighbourly acts, are introduced—are very good and most amusing. We only regret that the Dyers, Jake and Martin (twin brothers), and their wives, and sour Mrs. Meeker—who delights in telling bad news, and never loses an opportunity of witnessing distress—are so soon eclipsed by other characters. Nan's visit to her "high relations" at the sleepy old seaport of Dunport, where she meets her lover, is most pleasantly described. Dr. Leslie's old servant, Manila, "who did not hear the doctor and his guest tramp up to bed until late, and though ahe had tried to keep awake, had been obliged to take a nap first, and then wake up again to get the benefit of such an aggravating occasion," is a capital character. We confess that we do not see much point in the introduction of the doctor's old friend, Dr. Ferris, except as an opportunity for our doctor to air his view43.. One remark of each doctor we wish to quote, in order tht,we may express our complete disagreement with it; but ste, do so with respect, as the tone of the whole book is of a deep, though unobtrusive, religious character, recognising, to the full, our high duties towards one another and towards God. "The gift of intuition reaches directly towards the truth," says Dr. Ferris, quoting Buckle on the feminine intellect, "and it is only reasoning by deduction that can take flight into the upper air of life and certainty I' "Yes," responds Dr. Leslie, and I have believed that the powers of Christ were but the higher powers of our common humanity. We recognise them dimly now and then, but few of us dare to say so yet. The world moves very slowly, doesn't it ? If Christ were perfect man, he could hardly tell us to. follow him and be like him, and yet know all the while that it was quite impossible, because a difference in his gifts made his character an unapproachable one to ours." Here is preached,. we suppose, the doctrine of Christ as a good man, and a stimu- lating example. And first of all, let us ask,—Has any one yet come up to his standard, even the best of us, or even approached to it ? We imagine not; but then, why not P Secondly, Christ, as a moral leader and as an attainable standard, is only a bless- ing to the successful—to the strong who can look back upon their lives and see no false steps that have led others astray, and can feel that they, like Christ, "have come not to be minis- tered unto, but to minister." But how about the sinful—the failures of this world—who can only look back upon their lives to find that they have made grievous mistakes and involved others in their errors, and been a burden upon those whom they most wished to benefit? To them we think that Christ the Divine—the supplement of our feeble natures, the great Righter of wrongs—will be a more acceptable, a more restoring image,. than Christ the good man and the edifying Example.
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