A ROMANCE OF ART-MAGIC!
To the looker-on at the ways of society in these restless days, its successive fads are not a little amusing, and the least enduring of them are the most entertaining. They will all recur, for social history has its repetitions also, as the present revival of the Art-Magic fad of the present day proves. The world will again behold the petticoat-and-platter style of furniture, the shapeless-and-sad order of costume, the unintelligible-intense fashion of speech, and the voice of the preachers of those doc- trines will again be heard in the land. The fads which especially appeal to the vanity and restlessness of mankind are still more certain to recur, because there will always be a demand for them, and they will always be recognisable, and referable to some former experience more or less recent. " Occultism" is the fad of the present hour, and it is the oftenest revived, and, to the faddists, the most serious-seeming of fade, while to un- believers it is hardly serio-comic. Yesterday, it was Mr. Home and the Spiritualists ; to-day, it is Brehm, and Gantama, and the Theosophists, with mystic Mahatmas and opportune teacups ; to-morrow, it might be Confucius, were it not for the deterrent common-Henn of that sage.
Boudoir-Buddhism counts its devotees by hundreds ; followers of Brahm drop in at receptions of the higher-culture kind ; palmistry is a social profession ; young people who are working off the foolishness inseparable from their time of life, in what they suppose to be a more excellent way than that provided by the " Western creeds," indulge in the murmurings of mysticism, and compard their experiences of the hits and misses of com- peting astrologers. Such is the inoffensive Art Magic of these later days, peacefully pursuing its " patter " without the fear of an astral-bodied Lord's Anointed, or a " reincarnated " Sir Matthew Hale. Seeing that the protean fad has to be accepted as a con- stituent of our social state, it is but natural and fair that each successive form of it should find servitors among professors of the various arts. It is occasionally killed by them ; the method° fad, for instance, having been painted, dramatised, burlesqued, and written to death, a wearied world promptly drew up its blinds, put on Philistine raiment, and furnished its rooms with a shocking disregard of backgrounds. Occultism has its ex- ponents in art and literature also, and it boasts at least one thoroughly convinced disciple as its novelist-in-chief.
Not a smile lurks about the countenance of the author of A Modern Magician : it would be both unfair and stupid to doubt the entire good faith with which he has written the romance dedicated, " in sign of service," to the strange personage who is known in its pages as Benoni. A Modern Magician is of un- usual interest, as the work of a tree believer in " Occultism ;" for it is always pleasant, and sometimes profitable to learn what it is that attracts one's fellows strongly and in numbers in any particular direction. Although Mr. Molloy's wizard leaves us as much in the dark as ever upon several matters which we should like to have made plain, he is the most distinct and out- spoken representative of the so-called "mysticism" of the day that has yet been proposed to the contemplation of the outsider. He is not a successful wizard ; on the contrary, his disciple, Philip Amerton, disregards his precepts, although they are delivered under impressive, not to say awful circumstances, and, moved by a purely human and natural impulse, finally emancipates himself from his control. Love and grief are too strong for the neophyte ; occultism has no spell wherewith to conjure these ; and Benoni vanishes, leaving behind him, it is tree, plentiful promises, and a hint of his return. " In the silent hours of dusk and grey of
• A Modern Magician. By F. Fitzgerald Molloy. London Ward and Downey. dawn, when the world without is hushed, and your heart seeks rest," he bids Philip look for him, but for the time he has lost his influence. We do not find fault with this ; on the con- trary, we regard it as an unconscious testimony to the truth. The new—or, rather, the revived—religion of occultism fails just at the point where the old religion of revelation is most sensibly the stay of both heart and soul. More than this, if Philip Amerton had been a reasonable Christian, instead of an occultist with an "astral " familiar, he would have known that practical " sacrifice " means living for others instead of living for one's self, bearing and forbearing, being kindly and sympathetic, cherishing no intellectual scorn, and avoiding the hateful habit of introspection which is merely the indulgence of vanity with a big name. But in that case we should not have heard any- thing about his mysticism or his magician, and we are glad to hear all this novel has to tell. It would be delightful to know a Benoni, to be able to will him into our company by moonlight and on other occasions, and to get him to summon up a "Faithful One" in an emergency, who would " incantate " for us after the fashion of " Monk" Lewis's sorcerer, but with perfectly proper results. And then be would be so delightfully unlike every other kind of wizard ; he would have no connec- tion with materialised spirits of imperfect education, who have singularly neglected their enlarged opportunities in another sphere, but would be gentlemanly, dignified, sweet, and serious. Even if he were persuasively to whisper " Don't " when we fall in love and want to marry the one perfect sample of her sex, we need not take his advice, but might follow the example of Philip Amerton. Benoni interests us very much ; but he does not persuade us that there is anything " in " occultism.
Turning from Mr. Molloy's mysticism to his story•telling, we find a very good plot—which might have been worked out just as well without magic, or a magician, so far as its incidents go— and some clever sketches of types and individuals belonging to the most modern phase of society. The underplot, as the author regards it, is by far the best part of the story, and the Glender episode is striking and well told. We have no intention of telling the story, to the detriment of both author and reader ; but we may say that it is no small feat to have invested the scene in which Ambrose Bradley suddenly appears in the presence of his wife, who has long believed him dead, with dramatic and novel interest. Philip Amerton and Miriam Netley are fairly interesting, and the incon- sistency of each in his and her several ways, is not untrue to life; it is, however, a new departure for a novelist to depict this moral defect with such startling frankness and results so terrible. We think Mr. Molloy has overcrowded his canvas with figures, and thereby done himself injustice. He has not allowed himself sufficient space for the development of the incidents of the story, and we see little of some people of whom we should like to see more. He is not humorous, but he is very smartly satirical, and his social scenes are excellently portrayed. Next to Glender, the leading villain, who is a remarkable success, we admire Mrs. Netley, the rich woman with the fine house who resolves to get into society (we all know the type) and to marry a "Lord." We wish Mr. Molloy had given us more of the very nnmystical company of Mrs. Netley and her Lord Pompey. A love of Nature in all its moods, strong sense of the companion- ship of " soulless things," a thoughtful habit of mind, and true love of grace and beauty, make themselves evident throughout this novel.
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