PROM MISS AUSTEN TO MR. TROLLOPE. •
THE loss of Mr. Anthony Trollope makes us turn back from his long series of elaborate pictures of English' society during the third quarter of the present century, to those in which Miss Austen painted the rural society of England during the cud of the last and the beginning of the present century, with a quite now sense of the magnitude of the change which had taken place in the transition from the one to the other. Miss Austen's Works have just been republished by Mr. Bentley, in six handsome volumes, sadly injured, to our eyes, by the unfortunate redness of the ink with which. the admirable
type has been printed. An elaborate edition of the speeches of Denton, or the " Carmagnoles," as Macaulay called them, of Barri:ere, might, perhaps, be appropriately given in red ink ; but for Miss Austen, whose exquisite studiee. of quiet and rather conventional life have absolutely nothing of either the showy or the glaring in them, indeed, of whose writings she would prohably herself have said, almost as Hawthorne said of his, that they "had the pile tint of flowers that blossomed in too retired a shade;"—for these to be printed in ink of a reddish tint, strikes 'us with a sense of
discord which is positively painful. If " Barchester Towers " or the " Eustace Diamonds" had been printed in reddish ink, we should not have felt the discord half as much. Mr. Slope in the one, and Lady Eustace, to say nothing of subordinate figures, in the other, would have suited. the red shade well enough, though the gentle sentences of poor Mr. Harding would hardly have recognised themselves in red ink at all, and might have seemed almost to be blushing for the effrontery of their appearance. But Miss Austen is not herself in red ink, and we can hardly persuade ourselves that it is not a blood- shot eye which gives to that unobtrusive irony and that delicate banter so very unnatural a glare. But even the special unfit- ness which there seems to be in this tint of the new edition of Miss Austen's stories, reminds us at once of the greatest of all the social changes between the rural life of Miss Austen's pic- tures and the rural life of Mr. Trollope's. The former is, above all things, -mild and unobtrusive, not reflecting the greater world at all, and giving us the keenest sense of how easy it would be to drive oneself, even in a short drive, quite out of reach of all the characters described in any one story; while the latter is, above all things, possessed with the sense of the aggressiveness of the outer world, of the hurry which threatens the tranquillity even of such still pools in the rapid currents of life as Hiram'e Hospital at Barchester, of the rush of commercial activity, of the competitiveness of fashion, of the conflict for existence even in outlying farms and country parsonages. Miss Austen's clergy aro gentlemen of such leisurely habits of mind, that even the most energetic of them suggests a spacious and sequestered. life. Mr. Trollope's clergy are the centres of all sorts of crowding interests, of ecclesiastical conflicts, of attacks of the Press, of temptations from the great London world, of danger from Courts of Justice. The difference between Mr. Elton, empty, conceited, easy-going, under-bred, and Mr. Slope, ambitious, audacious, prompt, and vulgar, is the difference between the whole world of the two novel- ists. Everybody in Miss Austen, from the squires and the doctors down to the lovers, is leisurely, giving one a great sense of perfect seclusion, ample opportunity, plenty of space, and plenty of time. Everybody in Mr. Trollope is more or less under pressure, swayed hither and thither by opposite attractions, assailed on this side and on that by the strategy of rivals ; everywhere someone's room is more wanted than his company ; everywhere time is short. Mr. Woodhouse's quiet apothecary, Mr. Perry, of Highbury, in "Emma," and the pompous physician, Dr. Fillgravo, of Bar- chester, who telegraphs for a consultation with Sir Omicron Pie whenever a distinguished patient is in danger, in " Barchester Towers," are not more different from each other, than the whole spirit of Miss Austen's country life from Mr. Trollope's. Compare two even of their stupidest clergymen. Rare is Mr. Collins's excuse for not singing, in " Pride and Prejudice" : —" • If I,' said Mr. Collins, were so fortunate as to be able to sing, I should have great pleasure, I am sure, in obliging the company with an air ; for I consider music a very innocent diversion, and perfectly compatible with the profession of a clergyman. I do not mean, however, to assert that we can be justified. in devoting too much of our time to music, for there are certainly other things to be attended to. The rector of a parish has much to do. In the first place, he must make such an agreement for tithes as may be beneficial to himself, and not offensive to his patron. Ho must write his own sermons, and the time that remains will not be too much for his parish duties, and the care and improvement of his dwelling, which he cannot be excused from making as comfortable as possible. And I do not think it of light importance that he should have attentive and conciliatory manners towards everybody, especially towards those to whom he owes his preferment. I cannot acquit him of that duty, nor could I think well of the man who should omit an occasion of testifying his respect for anybody connected with the family.' And with a bow to Mr. Daley, he concluded his speech, which had been spoken so loud as to be heard by half the room." Now, take a speech by Mr. Thumble, an equally stupid clergyman of Mr. Trollope's in the "Last Chronicles of Barchester," and notice how much more life presses on him, how money matters press on him, how clerical and social ambitions press on him, how much less space there is for his stu- pidity to blossom in, how much more the world straitens Mr. Thumble, from all points of view, than it ever straitened Mr. Col- lins. Mr. Thumble is complaining to Mr. Quiverful of the expense of attending a Clerical Commission in Barchester ;—" One's first duty is to one's wife and family,' said Mr. Quiverful. ' Well, yes; in a way that, of course, is quite true, Mr. Quiverful; and when we know bow very inadequate are the incomes of the working clergy, we cannot but feel ourselves to be, if I may so say, put upon, when we have to defray the expenses inci- dental to special duties out of our own pockets. I think, you know,—I don't mind saying this to you,—that the Palace should have provided us with a chaise and pair.' This was ungrateful on the part of Mr. Thumble, who had been permitted. to ride miles upon miles to various outlying clerical duties upon the Bishop's worn-out cob. ' You see,' continued. Mr. Thumble, ' you and I go specially to represent the Palace, and the Palace ought to remember that. I think there ought to have been a chaise and pair, I do, indeed.' I don't care much what the conveyance is,' said Mr. Quiverful, ' but I certainly shall pay nothing more out of my own pocket ; certainly I shall not.' The result will be that the Palace will be thrown over if they don't take care,' said Mr. Thumble." There you see a clergyman almost as stupid as Mr. Collins, and quite as full of his own small affairs ; but instead of seeing him, as you do Mr. Collins in "Pride and Prejudice," swelling out like a shrivelled apple under an air-pump to its full size, and much more than its full importance, you see Mr. Mumble jostled and fidgetted by the impact of the world, and crumpled up, as it were, into the insignificant man he is. In Miss Austen's novels,—it is one of their chief attractions,—this is never so. Every one is what he is by the natural force of his own nature and tastes. 1 You hardly ever see the crush of the world on any one. The vain,../ man's vanity sedately flowers ; the dull man's dullness runs to seed; the proud man's pride strikes its roots deep; even the fidgettiness of fidgetty persons appears to come from within, not from the irritation of external pressure. Half the distinctiveness, for instance, of such sketches as those of Mrs. Jennings and the Misses Steele in " Sense and Sensibility " arises from the cir- cumstance that the active good-natured vulgarity of the one, and the furtive restlessness of the others, are so entirely self- prompted, so entirely unforced from outside. Turn to Mr. Trollope, and everything is changed. The atmosphere of tiff airs is permanent. The Church or the world, or the flesh or the devil, seems always at work to keep men going, and prevent them from being exactly themselves. Miss Austen's people are them- selves alone. Mr. Trollope's people are themselves so far as the circumstances of the day will allow them to be themselves, but very often arc much distorted from their most natural selves.
Then, again, in Miss Austen's world, how little you see of London, even in the effect the metropolis has upon the country. In " Northanger Abbey " and in " Persuasion," you see a good deal of the local capital of pleasure, Bath. In "Mansfield Park," and in " Pride and Prejudice," a very small portion of the by-play of the story takes place in London. In " Sense and Sensibility " alone, there is an important London episode. In ' "Emma," if we recollect rightly, London is hardly mentioned at all. In Mr. Trollope's novels—the Irish ones, of course, ex- cepted—nothing can be done without London. Even "The Warden " depends wholly for its plot on the articles of Tom Towers in the "Jupiter," and poor Mr. Harding's visit to London is the turning-paint of the story; while ten out of every dozen of Mr. Trollope's stories turn chiefly upon London life. Even his evangelical Bishops go up to London, while his statesmen, poli- ticians, Civil servants, money-lenders, commercial travellers, bar- risters, boarding-house keepers, and policemen, all, of course, live there. Nothing is more remarkable, in reading the two series of novels together, than the self-centredness of the country in Miss,. Austen, and the constant reference to London in Mr. Trol- lope. One might read Miss Austen's books through and never know that there was a Parliament sitting in Westminster at the time, so little are the doings of the Legislature ever referred to in her country houses. One might read them through, and never know that there were Courts of Law in London. One might read. them through, and never suspect that there was better medical advice to be had in London than in the country. In Mr. Trollope's tales you never forget these things. Indeed, you see a good deal of the machinery of Parliament and of the greater administrative offices of the State. You are constantly hearing of the Bar, of the various kinds of solicitors, and of the mighty physicians by whose fiat it is supposed. to be known whether a man shall live or die. In a word, the society which in Miss Austen's tales seems to be wholly local, though it may have a few fine connections with the local capital, is in Mr. Trollope's a great web of which London is the centre, and some
kind of London life for the most part the motive-power. The change from Miss Austen to Mr. Trollop° is the change from social home-rule to social centralisation. And, to read about, at all events,—though both are most entertaining,— one prefers the home-rule,
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