A BOOK OF THE MOMENT
THE NEW JANE AUSTEN
[0:11"laucnT IS THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA BY THE New York Times.] HALF, or nearly half, a new novel by Miss Austen! No one could have read in Mr. Austen-Leigh's Memoir of Jane Austen the tantalizing references to Sanditon, called by him " The Last Work," without a great desire to see the remains in their entirety and to judge whether Mr. Austen-Leigh was right in thinking that it would not be fair to the great woman novelist to place them under the public eye. The few verbatim quotations which we were allowed certainly did not make out an overwhelming case for suppression, but instead whetted our appetite. Now, owing to the good sense of the owner of the manuscript, the great-niece of Anna Lefroy, we are allowed to see what remains of Sanditon exactly as it was written in 1817.
Nobody need refrain from reading for fear of being pained with a sense of the author's declining powers. Neither in the writing nor in the method or .style is there the slightest sign of relaxation of interest in the scheme of human affairs.
The great and brilliant mind is working at a full and even pressure. and there is no trace of rattling, or rapping, or clinking. Till the last words on the last page we obtain that smooth and delightful and yet " spritely running " to which Jane Austen accustomed her readers from the appearance of her first novel.
If there was one thing which Jane Austen did better than another, where all was done superbly well, it was a beginning. The, first sentence of Sanditon is as good as the first sentence in Emma, or Northanger Abbey, or Mansfield Park. One can- not say more. Here is the beginning in question :- " A Gentleman & Lady travellin,, from Tunbridge towards that part of the Sussex Coast. which lies between Hastings & Eastbourne, being induced by Business to quit the high road, &- attempt a very rough Lane, were overturned in toiling up it's long ascent, half rock, half sand." - That, I adinil, is not as spritely as some of the earlier openings, but anyone who reads Sanditon will see that it exactly suits the novel. The atmosphere of the tale is heavy with what I can only describe as domestic irony. That is an irony which brings to nought the best laid plans of the tea-room, the boudoir, and the drawing-room, just as the magnificent irony of State overwhelms the plans of counsellors and princes.
The special note about Sanditon, and I think, on the whole, it was a note which even the super-fastidiousness of Jane Austen would not in the end have condemned to alteration, is one of strong satire. The wonderful patience which Jane Austen finds it possible to display to many of her important objectionable characters (Mr. Collins is, of course, an excep- tion) does not seem to have had much place in Sanditan. The egotistic bore who appears in the first words of the first chapter is a wonderful study, but there is little or no attempt by his creator to excuse him, or even gently to explain away his faults. The same thing is to be said about Sir Edward Denham, the Regency baronet who would have been as wicked as Regency baronets ought to be, except for his narrow circumstances. Not only was he obliged to drive a gig instead of a caracole or a barouche-tandam, but his vices find to be straitened and contracted into a similar span.
The book as a whole, like so much of Jane Austen's work, is extraordinarily modern in feeling, atmosphere, and detail. It is the story of a feolish, egotistical, small squire who wishes to fill his pockets, occupy his time, and raise his importance by developing a piece of Sussex sea-coast into a fashionable seaside resort. He does all this in the most modern way. He is full of medical terms. He talks of soils and sub-soils, of temperatures and damps and colds, and wind and fresh air, and above all, sea water, till one is reminded of the very last thing in prospectuses of a sea-side building estate, or the advertisements of a Borough Council determined to get a larger nantiber of tourists into their lodging-houses. To balance him we have Lady Denham. She is another landed proprietor moderately anxious to boom the village into a new Brighton ; but she has not only more shrewdness, but much more hu- manity than Mr. Parker, and does not deceive herself with the sophistries and futilities that overwhelm the mind of the male egotist. I may quote a conversation used to display Lady Denham's character, which I feel sure my readers will agree with me in saying is as good as anything in Miss Austen in her broader style. Charlotte, Lady Denham's interlocutor, is a very charming young lady whom the Parkers pick up from a neighbouring manor house when their post-chaise is over' turned. Lady Denham thinks that her nephew by marriage, Sir Edward, the good-looking, would-be vicious young baronet, has rather fascinated the quiet and sensible Charlotte, owing to the girl having unguardedly remarked on his good looks :- "This was said chiefly for the sake of saying something—but Charlotte directly saw that it was laying her open to suspicion by Lady D's giving a shrewd glance at her & replying—' Yes, yes, he is very well to look at—& it is to be hoped some Lady 'of large fortune will think so--for Sir Edward must marry for Money.— He & I often talk that matter over. A handsome young fellow like him, will go smirking & smiling about & paying girls compli- ments, but he knows he must marry for Money.—And Sir Edward is a very steady young Man in the main, & has got very good notions.' Sir Edward Denham, said Charlotte, with such personal Advantages may be almost sure of getting a Woman of fortune if he chooses it.'—This glorious sentiment seemed quite to remove suspicion. Aye my Dear—That's very sensibly said,' cried Lady Denham. And if we could but get a young Heiress to Sanditon ! But Heiresses are monstrous scarce ! I do not think we have had an Heiress here, or even a Co—since Sanditon has been a public place. Families come after Families, but as far as I can learn, it is not one in an hundred of them that have any real Property, Landed or Funded. An Income perhaps, but no Property. Clergymen may be, or Lawyers from Town, or Half pay officers, or Widows with only a 1ointure. And what - good can such people do anybody ?—except just as they take our empty Houses—and (between ourselves) I think they are great fools for not staying at home. Now, if we could get a young Heiress to be sent here for her health—(and if she was ordered to drink asses milk I could supply her)—and as soon as she got well, have her fall in love with Sir Edward ! " That would be very fortunate indeed." And Miss Esther must marry somebody of fortune too—She must get a rich Husband. Ah ! young Ladies that have no Money are very much to be pitied ! But—after a short pause—if Miss Esther thinks to talk me into inviting them to come & stay at Sanditon House, she will find herself mistaken."
The dissection of the baronet is even more poignant, though the touch of indignation is carried to a point unusual in Jane Austen. Charlotte, in the course of conversation, asks him what is the kind of novel that he likes :- " The NoveLs which I approve are such as display Human Nature with Grandeur—such as shew her in the Sublimities of intense Feeling—such as exhibit the progress of strong Passion from the first Germ of incipient Susceptibility to the utmost Energies of Reason half-dethroned—where we see the strong spark of Woman's Captivations elicit such Fire in the Soul of Man as leads him—. (though at the risk of some Aberration from the strict line of Primitive Obligations)—to hazard all, dare all, achieve all, to obtain her."
Further on we get a fascinatingly humorous delineation of Sir Edward's character. The ironic touches are laid on with the cunning hand which we all know and love so well :- " Sir Edward's great object in life was to be seductive. With such personal advantages as he knew himself to possess, & such Talents as he did also give himself credit for, he regarded it as his Duty.—He felt that he was formed to be a dangerous Man— quite in the line of the Lovelaces.—The very name of Sir Edward he thought carried some degree of -fascination with it.—To be generally gallant & assiduous about the fair, to make fine speeches to every pretty Girl, was but the inferior part of the Character he had to play.—Miss Heywood, or any other young Woman with any pretensions to Beauty, he was entitled (according to his own views of Society) to approach with high Compliment & Rhap- sody on the slightest acquaintance ; but it was Clara alone on whom he had serious designs ; it was Clara whom he meant to seduce.—Her seduction was quite determined on. Her Situation in every way called for it. She was his rival in. Lady D.'s favour, she was young, lovely & dependant.—He had very early seen the necessity of the case, & had now been long trying with cautious assiduity to make an impression on her heart, and to undermine her Principles.—Clara saw through him, & had not the least intention of being seduced—but she bore with him patiently enough to confirm the sort of attachment which her personal Charms had raised.--A greater degree of discouragement indeed would not have affected Sir Edward. He was armed against the highest pitch of Disdain or Aversion.—If she could not be won by affection, he must carry her off. He knew his Business.— Already had he had many Musings on the Subject. If he were
• constrained so to act, he must naturally wish to strike out some- thing new, to exceed those who had gone before him—and he felt a strong curiosity to ascertain whether the Neighbourhood of Timbuctoo might not afford some solitary House adapted for
Clara's recention :—but . the Expense alas of Measures in that masterly style was ill-suited to his Purse, & Prudence obliged him to prefer the quietest sort of ruin & disgrace for the object of his Affections, to the more renowned."
Clara, it is to be noted, is the companion of his aunt, Lady Denham, a girl without money or prospects.
I am not going to spoil Sanditon for readers by disclosing too much of the story or summarizing the characterization. It is enough to say that the narrative is as easy and rapid as ever and the irony as well concealed. In a word, the story is told with that perfection of art which Macaulay, not always so successful in lighter literary criticism, recognized so strongly and expressed so well. Speaking of the novelist, he said: " There are in the world no compositions which approach nearer to perfection." Only the very greatest of the great Dutch painters succeeded so absolutely in what he undertook to do as did Jane Austen.
Those who read Miss Austen's novels, not merely for the story or the characters, but also with a desire to understand the period, can never fail to be struck with that modernness of outlook which I have noted above. Though Jane Austen lived so quietly in the country, she seems to have kept abreast of every intellectual, or, at any rate, every literary develop- ment. If you study the dates, you see them exactly reflected in her story. It is to be feared there is now nothing more to hope for in regard to " new discoveries of Miss Austen's work in fiction." Time may restore us in its course the lost books of Livy, another Platonic dialogue, and any number of Greek plays and epigrams ; but I fear that the possibility of a new novel by Miss Austen turning up in a notebook with marbled leaves is beyond possibility. Miss Austen's success was too great in her own age, and she was too careful, and led too well ordered a life to make one think it possible that she could have left a whole story in an old chest of drawers in a country house or a seaside lodging. The incident of the unpaid washing bills in the chest in Northanger Abbey reminds us that her life was too tidy and well ordered for any such
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