MISS HONETWOOD'S LOVERS.*
Miss Honeywood's Lovers is a story which shows that the author- has great cleverness of his own,—much too great to make it at all wise or indeed intelligible that he should borrow Mr. Dickens's worst faults of style, and strum upon them with a hand so heavy, and so like his master's, that we could almost believe- that the author was a " writing medium," and Mr. Dickens: the communicating spirit of the most extravagant elements in this nevertheless amusing tale. The picture of Mr. Grim- shaw, the solicitor of this tale, not only vividly recalls Mr.. Gradgrind in Hard Times, but is described with all that frightful zeal which Dickens displayed in bringing out the phy- sical features of a character of which he knew hardly anything- except those physical features. Just as Cousin Feenix's legs, in Dombey and Son, were always taking him at an angle from the• direction in which he intended to go, and as Carker showed his gleaming teeth, and as Mr. Joggers in Great Expectations always bit the side of his finger by way of menace, and so forth, just so Mr. Grimshaw's "powerful manner," and his smile, which "drags every part of his face but his nose out of sight behind his whiskers," is insisted on and ticked off every time he speaks or smiles, by the author, with the precision of an astronomer who is bound to notice the passage of a particular star across the meridian. To give an instance. On the first occasion, when Mr.. Grimshaw goes to dine with Mr. Honeywood in this story, it is noted that when he enters, the "greater part of his face is tightly drawn behind his whiskers by a violent smile ;" then he goes through the introductory forms " in a powerful way ;" he asks Miss Cherrip how she does " powerfully ;" when dinner is an- nounced he " strides massively over to Letty, and in a very powerful way offers her his arm, with his face, as usual, dragged by a smile out of sight ;" he says ' dear me ' " strongly " when • Min Honeywoods Lovers: a Novel. 2 vols. London: Sampson Low awl Oa
a mistake occurs about the arrangement at dinner ; soon after he "retires behind his whiskers ;" then he declares "in his strongest manner " that he has met dozens and dozens of the nobility ; then he "submits to the facial withdrawal that was the inexorable con- dition of a smile with him ;" then he declares "in his most powerful manner" that all self-made men are practical men ; then he smiles at Letty, "with a smile that transformed his face into a perfect mass of hair with a nose in the middle" ; then he "withdrew behind his whiskers and reappeared again ;" and then, when he is going away he exclaims that he is an early man " in a loud and powerful voice," and on saying good-bye to Letty, "his face retired," while he gives "only a cold though a strong bow" to Miss Cherrip ; and as he goes down the doorsteps, he strides "powerfully into the gloom." And this is only one scene in the story. Mr. Grim- shaw goes through the whole story in the same fashion. This strumming on these two notes of his powerful' manner and his habit of 'retiring behind his whiskers' is never relaxed. The author evidently thinks that the reader can't have too much of it. Like Mr. Dickens, he appears to hold that a peculiarity of physical expression is not so much important as individualising the character, as for its own sake. Once dis- covered or invented, it is, to the author, like a child's rattle to a baby, a source of infinite amusement in itself. He cannot wind it up and make it go off too often. Evidently he thinks of it much as if each verification of the remarkable characteristic were like a new discharge of fireworks,—the more effective instead of the less effective for all the previous discharges. Nor is Mr. Grimshaw the only character thus treated in the book. Mr. Cherrip, who passes his hands through "the horns" of his hair, and whose one philosophical maxim is "two and two make four, and nothing over," is played off in just the same way, like a very poor musical-box with two cracked tunes. And Miss Cherrip's Roman nose, with which she " strikes an attitude" in the air, is almost as hardly-worked as Mr. Grimshaw's smile.
Now, this is bad and vulgar art, and it is the more annoying because the author of Miss Honey wood's Lovers is in no need of these clap-trap expedients. Though he has not, of course, Dickens's inexhaustible humour, he has sufficient humour of his own, and can draw lifelike characters which are far superior in reality to these wire-puppets marked by special distortions of countenance or bearing. The pictures of both Mr. and Mrs. Honeywood, who are not conceived in this extravagant vein of physical caricature, and are really very telling ; and what is more, when the great calamity of the loss of his wife comes on Mr. Honeywood, the change which trouble makes in his demeanour is so painted that he remains in every respect the same man to the reader,—it is impossible to doubt the identity of the character,—even while his whole out- ward bearing has undergone a very marked outward change. This is a real test of a novelist's power. Many clever men and women can paint a character with tolerable vividness while it retains the aspect in which it was first observed, or even conceived; but the difference between the artist who can paint this only, and the artist who can vary at pleasure the conditions, internal and external, under which the character is delineated, and yet preserve the personal tone and identity beneath the shifting lights and shadows, is very great. As far as we can judge, the author of Miss Honeywood's Lovers has the latter and more genuine power. At least, in the one case in which he has chosen to exercise it, that of the fidgetty, irritable, somewhat weak, and exceedingly mercurial country brewer, who is so very determined on having his own way in his own house, and so exceedingly unable either to get his own way, or indeed to deserve to get it, there can be no question at all that be has succeeded, and indeed succeeded so well as to make the reader indignant with the very common-place comic " business " in which the author too much delights. The matrimonial scenes between the self-important, worldly little brewer and his languid and selfish, but less worldly and far from heartless wife, on the subject of their daughter's rival lovers, the prosperous Mr. Grimshaw, whom Letty detests, and the far from prosperous Mr. Keane, whom she loves, are not only lively, but faithful to life. And the utter collapse of Mr. Honeywood under the shadow of death and grief is painted with great force. It is this—together with a certain real humour which, in spite of the author's want of self-restraint and of delicacy of discrimination, is evident throughout the story—that makes us disposed to upbraid him for the gross mistake of imitating the worst tricks of Dickens, a mistake excusable only in a man who can do no better. Our present author can do better ; witness this discussion between Mr. and Mrs. Honeywood about their daughter's admirers ;—Mr.
Honeywood has just been dismissing his clerk, Mr. Keane, whom his daughter loves, and explaining away to Mr. Grimshaw, as he best can, Letty's apparent reluctance to accept his very desirable offer :—
" At half-past four, Mr. Honoywood left the Brewery, and walked home. The first thing he had to do was to acquaint his wife with everything that had happened. He accordingly sought and found her in her bedroom, seated in a velvet arm-chair, with her legs on a stool.
Well, my dear,' said he, leaning against the foot of the bed, 'how do you feel this afternoon ?'—' Much as usual, Josiah,' she answered, look- ing bard at him. Indeed, she must have been blind not to see that he had come to give her some news. His face was as full as a newspaper. 'I have done a great deal of work to-day,' said he, ' a great deal of very queer work. But I've put matters right, and don't think Joseph could find a flaw in the whole job from beginning to end.' Mrs. Honeywood, laying the book she had been reading in her lap, resigned herself to hear. 'Keane's gone, to begin with,' said Mr. Honeywood.' Gone r exclaimed his wife. Turned out ?'—' Well, we mustn't say turned out, but gone. Ho refused to give Letty up, and so we parted. First of all, Joseph and I called upon Mrs. Keane. No practical result from the interview ; but suggested by Joseph as a sentimental stratagem. That over, I tackled Keane. He's gone. Then Mr. Grimshaw called ; and I've made him more satisfied with Letty for not accepting his offer, than if, on receiving his letter, she had rushed down the High Street to his offices, and flung herself into his arms.'—' And that is your news?'—' Certainly. And bad news, eh ? bad news is it ?' exclaimed Mr. Honeywood, damped by the question.—' Really, Josiah I should like to know how many other men could have transacted such a compli- cated piece of business so neatly and effectually ?'—' Oh, as to that,' said Mrs. Honeywood, rather contemptuously, 'there's nothing very wonderful in it all that I can see. Any superior can dismiss his clerk and Mr. Grimshaw is so conceited, theta child might persuade him that blue is green, providing he wanted to think so, and it wasn't a law- matter. You have to consider Letty. She is the principal one, I hope. In turning your clerk away, and smoothing the backs of your Mr. Grimshaws, you quite forget that you have a daughter, and that she has feelings.'—' Now look here, Letitia,' exclaimed Mr. Honeywood sternly. ' Are you going to be with me or against me in this matter? answer me that.'—' Really, Josiah Just answer me that. If you want Letty to marry a clerk without a sixpence, instead of a rising attorney, making his fifteen hundred a year, say so. I know what I mean ; and now perhaps you will tell me what you mean.'—'People may mean what they like,' replied Mrs. Honeywood indignantly ; but I am not to be stunned because you can't discuss a simple matter without storming at me.' Mr. Honeywood walked about the room. 'Talk of marriage ' he burst out,, ' and children, and homes ! who'd have such troubles? who'd be worried by them ? Haven't I the Brewery to attend to ? isn't brew- ing hard enough work for a man but that he must be fighting with this one, and cajoling that one, and making himself ill with anxiety, in order to prove to his daughter that without money there can't be happiness, and a score of other self-evident propositions? There! that's quite enough,' said Mrs. Honeywood, in a weak voloe.'—' What I ought to do, continued Mr. Honeywood, working himself into a rage, ' is to let things take their own course ; not to interfere ; to be selfish; enjoy myself ; allow Letty to marry anybody she likes, on condition she doesn't trouble me. That's what most men would do.'—' Quite enough, I Rasura you.' —" What time have I got to be working on one man's feelings, and in- sulting another's ? finessing, tricking, growing wretched with nervous. nose, wasting my breath in proving obvious facts ? Is money so easy to get that I can go into my garden and dig it up ? Is brewing such a matter-of-course, that I have nothing to do but sot the engine going, and leave the whole process to take care of itself ?'—' Josiah " an- swered Mrs. Honeywood. closing her eyes, " I came here for quietude, 'reeling far from well. Had I thought you would have returned home in such a temper, I would have locked the door.' Mr. Honeywood looked at his wife, who kept her eyes closed, and for a moment it seemed as if ho were going to say something rude, or emphatic, or both ; but changing his mind, or wanting courage, he turned on his heel and left the room."
And as we have said, though it is not easy to illustrate by any single extract, our author can paint equally well the same not un- kindly, peppery, eager little man, mere creature of circumstance as be is, when shaken by a great grief, and making the unac- customed effort to control the keen ripple of his feelings under the influence of a serious purpose.
On the whole, we would say to the author of Miss .Honeywood'ir Lovers, whoever he may be, that he would do well to shake off the study of a master who, great as was his genius as a humourist, was no true artist,—melodrama, indeed, with all its artificial tricks and properties, was his great foible,—to study simplicity, and to endeavour to be himself. If he will do this, we feel pretty sure that there is vivacity and humour and observation and imagina- tion enough in him to insure his success. But the kind of story which was so great a favourite with Dickens, written on purpose to explode a heartless philosophy, and in which, as a natural consequence, one or two persons are made preposterous embodiments df that philosophy, and one or two other persons as preposterous embodiments of the opposite philosophy, is not a good opportunity for the exhibition of any genuine talent of the artistic kind. That, in spite of a radically bad plan, the author of Miss Honeyirood's Lovers has exhibited such a talent, speaks well for his capacity, if not exactly for the maturity of the judgment which buried that capacity under so heavy and unmanageable a load.
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