"PUT TO THE PROOF."* WE scarcely know whether to begin
our notice of this novel by praise or criticism, for both come very much to the fore as we turn over the pages; but as the critical sentiment is more excited by the first half of the story and the laudatory by the second, we will begin by criticism. Put to the Proof is evidently the work of a young—an exceedingly young—lady, which, in itself, is
anything but blameworthy ; but is it not a pity that, this being the case, she did not get the advice of an older person or have
her story overhauled by some professional hand, to save herself from the many absurd and outrageous errors which spoil an otherwise clever story and tempt us to say, as we read the first volume, that the book is written by a child and is not worth perusal? And, as far as the first volume is concerned, this is strictly true. The characters there introduced are carelessly drawn, perfectly uu-lifelike, and absolutely unnecessary to the rest of the story,—all, that is to say, excepting, of course, the character of the heroine and of her tutor. The situation is in the highest degree unnatural—we may say impossible—and artistically inexcusable, as the plot, such as it is, is quite independent of it. We are presented with a young man, apparently of a weak character and feebly obedient in everything to the will of a tyrannical old father, who. suddenly developes strength of purpose, calmly weighs his future, and, fully appreciating the effect of his determination, rejects for his wife the lady whom his father has chosen for him and marries a beautiful mill-girl upon whom his affections have been set since his early boyhood. His father disowns and dis- inherits him, as he expected, and the husband and wife go off together to work for their living; but before long the wife dies and is soon followed by her husband, who, apparently without any misgivings, leaves his little daughter, Margaret, to the tender mercies of his father, her only living relative. The old man accepts the trust but refuses to have any intercourse with his young grand-daughter, or even to allow her name, which is the same as her mother's, to be mentioned in his presence ; and, on one occasion, when asked what the child's name is, deliberately misnames her to avoid pronouncing the name of the woman he so much disliked; whereupon the little Oa states hotly that her name is Margaret. Upon the arrival of the child, Mr. Terry—the child's grandfather—orders three rooms in the east wing of the mansion—as far from the part of the house inhabited by himself as space would permit—to be prepared for "Miss Terry," and advertises for a tutor, as he particularly objects to governesses; and there, in these three rooms, live Margaret and her tutor, for ten years, during which time Mr. Philip Welford—the tutor—has four interviews with Mr. Terry, and Margaret apparently only one. They meet occasionally out riding, when Mr. Terry and Mr. Welford take off their hats, and Margaret bows. Mr. Welford holds what are regarded as exalted and peculiar views on the subject of woman's education, which appear to result in a species of Kindergarten system,— the greater part of Margaret's education being carried on out of doors, and viva voce. Mr. Welford also engages a dress- maker to instruct her in millinery and dressmaking, and be him- self initiates her into the mystery of wood-carving. We hear nothing of music, so we must conclude that that science is not included in the curriculum of woman's higher education. In this way, as we have said, ten years of Margaret's life—from eight to eighteen—pass peacefully away.
The whole story is, of course, ridiculous and impossible. No English gentleman, accustomed to good society, could so disregard the wise conventionalities of life as to permit such a state of things as that described; and when Agatha Entwistle—Mr. Terry's ward and the lady rejected by his sou — brings about the dismissal of Mr. Welford in the • Put to the Proof. By Caroline Fothergill. 3 vole. London: Richard Bentley and Son.
interests of propriety, we cannot look upon her as the meddling, mischief-making person that Miss Fothergill seems to think her. The impression produced upon the reader's mind, when he is introduced to Agatha Entwistle, is that she is going to be the evil genius of the story; but the dismissal of Philip and the introduction of a weak young nephew, as suitor for Margaret's hand, are her worst acts, and before the end of the first volume she is finally disposed of.
Again, we have ample reason to conclude that Margaret's life with Philip at the Hall is to sow the seeds of a permanent attach- ment, which is to be the point of variance between Margaret and her grandfather, and probably to cost her her inheritance But no,—a calm but warm and hearty friendship, and nothing more, runs through their intercourse from beginning to end.
Margaret does lose her inheritance, but not through Philip. It is -certainly a great art, in writing stories, to keep secret the plot and surprise the reader with an entirely unexpected result ; but it is quite the reverse to be constantly introducing persons .a.nd circumstances apparently intended to excite curiosity, and, when the reader is beginning to get interested in their develop- ment and to ask what happens, to come down upon them with "Oh, nothing happens ; that is all." The introduction of Mr. Banks, the lawyer, is another instance of this tendency to irreleyant incident ; we imagine that he is going to play some conspicuous part in Margaret's future, but he quietly disappears, and is seen and heard of no more.
The relation between Margaret and her grandfather is thoroughly absurd, as may be inferred from this final interview between the grandfather and grand-daughter. He has been trying to force Agatha's prot4ge upon her as a husband, and she has been refusing to accept him :—
"His face took an expression of fiendish malignity. He looked at her furiously. Had she shown the least sign of fear, he would pro- bably have struck her ; but she had never been taught to think that a graceful timidity is becoming in a woman, and she stood firm and unblenching before him. He did not dare to strike her, but looked -at her for a moment with all his hatred of her visible in his face ; then suddenly his face changed, his arm dropped nerveless to his aide, and he fell insensible to the ground."
At the end of the first volume Margaret is thrown upon the world — with Philip as her only friend—to earn her own living as a wood-carver, and this result might quite easily have been arrived at without this exceedingly unnatural and unpleasing preliminary passage in her life, for she is a simple, natural woman, and no more, with no queer twists of character which need accounting for as the result of her strange bringing-up,—unless, indeed, her amazing skill and success in her work, which are certainly astounding, can in any way bo attributed to it,—she completes, for instance, in less than three months—working some four hours a day—what would take years to accomplish ; namely, all the carving in a small but elaborate and exquisitely finished church :—
" The carving certainly merited the admiration which was bestowed upon it. Margaret had surpassed herself. The delicate tracery and openwork looked almost like lace in their fineness, and the bold, firm strokes proved the hand of one who had mastered her art. Perhaps the most beautiful thing of all was the immense cross which stood at the top of the chancel screen, and which was twined with wreaths of passion flowers, all cut in the shining black oak."
Oak is not black and shining when freshly carved. And -all this carving is done in the church itself, after the wood- -work is erected. We only extract this passage out of many -as an instance of Margaret's mighty doings in this line, but it will be quite sufficient, we are sure, to justify our recommenda- tion to Miss Fothergill to ask some advice on practical subjects before attempting another novel. The secrecy which is appar- ently quite easily maintained, too, as to the birth of her child, is quite impossible and absurd.
However, we have occupied enough space in fault-finding, but we have done it advisedly, and not out of mere captiousness, for we consider Miss Caroline Fothergill a writer of great promise, and well worth finding fault with, which is no small praise. Her faults are the faults of youth, inexperience, and ignorance, and her talent is unmistakable. She expresses herself capitally ; indeed so easy, fluent, and masterly is her style, that we have many times been tempted to waver in our judgment as to her youthfulness, and to think that the book must, after all, be the work of a practised hand. Before we put aside criticism -and turn to the more congenial work of praise, we must, however, seriously call Miss Fothergill's attention to a fault which ought to be and might very easily have been avoided. There is a great deal of carelessness in her work. She does not remember what she has previously written. She goes back from July to June, for instance, and makes a person, just described as sitting with his back to someone, look into his eyes. In the description of Philip's relation towards his mother, he is at one time represented as always giving way to her, and at another as always having his own way in the end. Angel represents her own family as perfectly indifferent to one another, yet when you are introduced to them you find it to be by no means the case. At one time you are told that Margaret is called by her married name by all the people whom she knows in the village where she is married, and at another that she has never been addressed by that name. All this is pure carelessness.
Having got rid of the disagreeable relations and the tiresome lover in the first volume, Margaret plunges into a delightful atmosphere of pleasant companions and congenial work, and the second and third volumes are interesting and unique in their con- ception. Miss Fothergill describes well and gracefully. She is particularly happy in her description of attitude. it is a character- istic little trait in her writing. All her people" move" for us. A word or two, and you see the graceful girl's supple motions as she crosses a moor, lies back in a railway carriage, or throws her- self into an easy chair. The pose of her figure—her step, even— seems familiar to you, and two or three words, simply written, have produced these effects. In the whole book there is no effort. All is easily, naturally, and forcibly expressed. Senti- ment and feeling are dealt with in the same direct and simple, but impressive, manner. Margaret's eccentric friend, Angel Darling, is a unique creation. Her hatred of men, and her calm and airy cynicism as to things in general, are brought out in very clever contrast with her youthful charms and her beautiful person. This antipathy of hers to men is most amusingly touched upon in many places, as in such sentences as the following. When Margaret confesses her marriage, "Angel, I am married,' " Angel breaks in with, "You want me to help you. What can I do ?' It was not until she was thinking over the interview afterwards that Margaret was struck by the fact that no sooner had Angel heard that she was married, than she took it for a settled thing that she must be in need of help." Again,—" Still, if they do come back,' went on the child, in a glow of enthusiasm,"—the child is speaking of some African explorers,—" think of the glory they will have!' ' They will all get the Victoria Cross for saving one another's lives,' said Angel sarcastically." Angel's dutiful attempt to fall in love with Philip, for Margaret's sake, is very cleverly described. And the fixity of purpose with which the authoress abstains from criti- cism, and lets this original conception of hers speak for herself —never attempting, to the last, to explain her oddities, neither condemning nor justifying her—is a stroke of real genius. Moreover, Angel's one great passion—her love for Margaret— is effectively brought out. Sibyl, Angel's little sister, thopgh so slightly drawn, is another charming sketch. Her shy devotion to her beautiful, cold sister, makes a delightful little picture; and the gentle mother of these girls, in her bleak, moor-land home, is well described.
On the whole, the two last volumes of Put to the Proof are clever, original, and interesting, and full of promise for the future, though there is a considerable want of point and method even in them. The incidents are too isolated, and do not arise sufficiently out of one another. A little more careful con- struction and consolidation of plot, more painstaking in the choice of details, and an avoidance of such manifest absurdities as we have mentioned, would have made this novel an excel- lent one. But, in conclusion, who is "put to the proof?" Is it Margaret ? We should have thought that the steadfastness of her character was established in the first few chapters, and needed no proof.
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