Dashing aivay the tear which cannot be checked at this affecting thought, M. de Wyzewa turns hopefully to those whose writing indicates that if iconoclasm exists, it is by no means the order of the day. Here he pauses to reflect on the influence of R, L. Stevenson for the ion of a new school. Love, when be the sacred or the profane, has no place in the dream of these strange and even in the midst of most criminal acts, a delicacy of feeling and mental attitude which compels us to admit them gentlemen."—Instinctively we recall the Master of Bullantrae, Northmour of The Pavilion on the Links, (though, perhaps, he scarcely comes into the eategnry since he was undoubtedly in love, after his fashion, with Clara Hudillestone), Hervi Dari, Mr. " Whish" (nothing of the gentleman in that fellow!) of The Ebb Tide. Such types are peculiar to the English novel and, in M. de Wyzewa's eyes, they constitute one of the most curious phenomena in all the history of literature, Mr. Hornung, Mr. Morrison, Mr. Arnold Bennett delight in their manufacture: but the foremost of the new school is Mr.
Mariott Watson who as the author of The Privateers has produced an exquisite poetic fantasy" which persuades de Wyzewa to pardon in Stevenson legacy that it would otherwise be difficult to stomach. One blemish only de Wyzewa observes in Mr.
Watson, as in many English write fan excess of cantion, of reserve: as if he were continually reminding his readers that "of course all this ix not true, it is only make-believe." This becomes wearisome as it is quite unnecessary, and it chills the reader's enthusiasm,
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.