Landscapes, Churches, and Moralities. By the Author of "The Recreations
of a Country Parson." (Longmans.)—We opened this volume at a sentence which seemed to account for its strength and for its weakness. "Blessed be reading It is the next consolation to writing." It strikes us that the writing which is a " consolation " to the writer is not unlikely to be anything but a consolation to his readers. To be true to its character, it must, to specify one point, be done with ease, and we all know what the opinion of no mean judge was about " easy writing." Writing ought to be a very serious business, and it would be well if our author would realise the fact a little more. He has no little skill in the art, and this has been recognised by a popularity which is probably, to say the least, not unequal to his merits, but he presumes on his facility and his reputation. He gossips to us in a way that not more than one or two writers during all time have ever been allowed to gossip to their readers. There must be something peculiarly rich and productive in a mind which can without offence transcribe its casual thoughts. Men of ordinary genius must be content to think their very best, when they wish to interest others. The "Country Parson" thinks, it would seem, that whatever may pass through his mind gets thereby a stamp which should make it pass current. Most of what he produces is accordingly very rude and unformed. He is a man, it is clear, of culture, and of liberal views in theological and social matters. Hence he is never offensive, but he is sometimes tedious, and sometimes curiously wrong. Let any one read, for instance, his chapter on Cathedrals. He wants to know, for instance, who would now-a-days think of building a Cathe- dral. Why, the people at Manchester are thinking of it ; this is but one answer out of many. In a note, indeed, he acknowledges that he is wrong, but would it not have been better to cancel the essay, or such part of it as needed cancelling ?—If the Country Parson' is a veteran author, Mr. A. Lamont, who gives us Wayside Wells, or Thoughts from Deepdale (Hodder and Stoughton), is a novice. So much, indeed, he tells us in his preface. If he would strike out three out of four of his epithets, his style would be vastly improved. The best thing in his book is a criticism on "Nathaniel Hawthorne," which shows sound judgment and a power of just appreciation.
Previous page
