FICTION.
THE KEYSTONE.* Miss Wimeocas's latest novel is a serious as well as a distinguished piece of work. It is classical in form and slow- moving and deliberate in development, a. book that must be read slowly and considered patiently. But that is just tho difficulty. It is almost impossible not to be impatient, not so much with the puppets on this Cornish stage, who are very much alive and play their parts with all the appearance of reality, but rather with the author, who pulls the strings. While " censuring with respect "—to use Dr.
Johnson's expression—and realizing the necessary limitations of a book that owes nothing to impressionism and little to brilliant dialogue or exotic atmosphere, we must confess that
The Keystone is a dull book. The plot itself is not, however,
dull. It is concerned with a North Cornish harbour town at the beginning of the nineteenth century, with its local life, its politics, its religion, its loves and hates. The pivot upon which the whole machinery turns is the rivalry between the two most important townsmen : the doctor and the squire, the former a
charming, hot-headed physician of the old school, something of a poet, much of an idealist, who lived only for the glory of his native place and the fame of his only son ; while the squire—
the " King of Talcarne," as he was called—is drawn as a reactionary autocrat, who loved to feel his power in every fibre of the town's existence, and was absolutely unscrupulous in the satisfaction of this ambition :-
" You could live in Talcarne comfortably enough under the administration of the squire provided that you lived humbly, never raising your head above the other flowers of the field. Emerge from the mass, however, and of course you would find the sword of Nemesis, otherwise Nick, laying low your pride."
The picture of the squire undoubtedly dominates the book as he sought to dominate Talcarne. And despite his impossible social creed, his overbearing disposition, and his immoral tenden- cies, he is not an altogether repulsive or even ungenial figure. His relations with his young cousin, whom he adopted with the intention of making her his heiress and the corner-stone of his pride by arranging her marriage, inspire pity for him as well as for the luckless Catherine. She is eventually rescued by young
Dr. Hender, the old doctor's idolized son, a character whose radical outlook and advanced views generally are played throughout the book as the foil to the Squire's double-dyed Toryism. One discussion between the two men has so much of the root of the matter in it, and gives, moreover, such a vivid
glimpse into the squire's personality, that it must be quoted, in part at any rate. Incidentally, it shows Miss Willcocks at her best in dialogue :— " Now,' said the squire, bending forward fingers on palm to show his point, you and I'll get to the bottom of all this. Look here, you know the old saying down in these parts, " they that can't schemey mun buster," that is they that can't use their brains must work with their muscles and brawn. That's Nature's law, and it's the key to all this fool-business that's making folks ramp up and down crying : " Eddicate the masses, giv"em the Bill, the whole Bill and nothing but the Bill—make 'em electors, give 'em power and responsibility." Mad-house jargon, so 'tis, all of it. You can't trust the people, not so much as to look after themselves.' a "Tisn't my view. I believe there's a bigger change than that coming out of all we're learning now. We've turned a corner.'
I don't want,' said Mr. Cardew, ' to do the toiling mass any
injustice. It is for their good—to keep their noses to the grindstone. I see to it in Talcarne that the best cute be never more than eightpence a pound, and that coal's cheap and plentiful. .If—as 'tis—bread's dear, I'm bringing the price • The Keystone. By 11. 1'. Wificocks. London : HutchInsoo. Pa. 6d. lend down all I know. For I see to it that in every lease I sign the proportion under grain and under roots is—as I see fit.' Hender smiled to himself.
I schemey for 'em all I know. That's my job. It's theirs to Jouster.'
And you see they do it, too,' laughed Render."
And much more to the same effect, and all of it well done. Nor is this the only weighty subject treated of in a weighty manner in the book. And possibly it is because there is no lighter side, no happy jest, no breath of humour between the two covers of The Keystone that it is difficult to read it with avidity, as every good book ought to be read, and to praise it with alacrity.
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