. George Meredith in anecdote and criticism . ikings with his critical instincts. But now observe Symons—I quote from his review in Time, March, 1886—without the least embarrassment on the subject of Emilia : The book forms the first volume of the history of Emilia Ales-sandra Belloni, than which it is doubtful whether its author has everdone better and more satisfactory work. Those less admirablequalities of Mr. Meredith, which some people find so objectionable—his excess of wit and overdose of humour, his too conspicuouscleverness, and the most fantastically fanciful flourishes of


. George Meredith in anecdote and criticism . ikings with his critical instincts. But now observe Symons—I quote from his review in Time, March, 1886—without the least embarrassment on the subject of Emilia : The book forms the first volume of the history of Emilia Ales-sandra Belloni, than which it is doubtful whether its author has everdone better and more satisfactory work. Those less admirablequalities of Mr. Meredith, which some people find so objectionable—his excess of wit and overdose of humour, his too conspicuouscleverness, and the most fantastically fanciful flourishes of his style—are here controlled, in great measure, by a profound seriousnessof aim, noticeable even in the brilliant social satire which formsone element of the book, and especially prominent in the characterand development of Emilia. . The book is full of practical wisdom, of healthy human sym-pathy, expressed often enough in terms of gentle satire; it is instinctwith passion and poetry, weighted with intellectual seriousness, and. From the dra-wiii« by Charles Kcatc in Once u Week. Evans Meeting with Susan Wheedle Striving to rouse the desolate creature, he sliook her slightly. She now raised her head with a slow, gradual motion, like that of a wax-work, showing a white young face, tearless,—dreadfully drawn at the lips. Evan Harrington. Chapter perniissio}i oj Messrs. Hradbury, A^neiu & Co. NOVELS IN CONTEMPORARY CRITICISM 209 balanced by artistic symmetry; a book that lives, and that will live,being of imagination all compact, when the novels of the day orthe hour, merry dancers on the yet green graves of their fellows ofyesterday, have danced, they, too, the dusty dance of death toextinction. Again, let us turn for a moment to Mr. Ernest Newmans studyof the novels, from which I have had occasion to quote in an earlierchapter: By one set of critics, not too robust in themselves (writes ) he is lauded as the exposer of sentimentalism, againstwhich mode


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