appreciation of the artistic quality is only possible to one who has considerable knowledge of the objects and qualities imitated.

The various modes in which ideal character appears life-like or otherwise were touched upon in the last essay, in connection with the subject of naturalness. A reflective reader of a novel, or a spectator of a play, needs to understand the various feelings and actions which present themselves. It is evident that this comprehensibility can only be secured by an assimilation of the particular feelings to the general laws of human nature. Thus, for example, actions need to be clearly motived, emotions to be correctly expressed. Another and less obvious element of conformity to nature may be found in making all the inner relations of thought and feeling clear and natural. The representation of ideas according to the order of natural sequence, as well as the due recognition of the mutual influences of thought and emotion, supplies a fine test of an author's knowledge of the human mind. It is probable that very few writers, whether dramatists or novelists, could undergo the searching examination in psychologic accuracy, to which Gervinus has subjected Shakspeare. As a single example of this master's minute fidelity I may refer to the manner in which he makes the figures of speech employed by his characters correspond with, and so indicate, their previous circumstances and experiences. Thus for example, Othello, as Gervinus remarks, indicates the colour of his past life by the frequent use of images drawn from the sea, the battle-field, and the hunting ground.

Fidelity to nature in the construction of imaginary character shows itself not only in the observance of general laws of the human mind, but also in the adaptation of all the particular words and actions of a person to a definite individual conception. In reading a novel or in witnessing a new drama, the mind seeks, from impulses already described, to seize the leading traits of a particular character, by a knowledge of which it may understand all subsequent phases of the person's conduct. The poet and novelist are well aware of this impulse, and, for the most part, seek to assist the correct reading of a character in the earliest stages of the work. A novelist customarily does this by a rapidly drawn first-sketch, or by a brief resumé of the person's previous circumstances and education. The dramatist supplies the key-note of character either indirectly, that is through the conversation of others about the particular person, or directly, through a characteristic self-revelation of the person himself on his first appearance. Here again I cannot do better than refer

for illustrations to the king of dramatists. In how masterly a manner, for example, does he indicate the first eruption of a lawless ambition in Macbeth's reception of the witches' salutation, and the secret gnawing of an impotent discontent in Hamlet's first appearance in company with his mother and the king? Where these aptly selected characteristic scenes are sustained by appropriate and pregnant acting, the spectator gains a clear intuition of the individual nature represented. Many a fine point of criticism in estimating the naturalness of a particular course of conduct, turns on the correct apprehension of the fundamental qualities of the character. What is harsh and surprising in itself, ceases to be so when connected with the dominant traits of the mind from which it emanates. And thus a cultivated and imaginative reader discovers naturalness in modes of feeling and action which are inconceivable to the majority of persons, whose minds are only capable of appreciating human feeling so far as it coincides with their individual experiences.

In concluding these few illustrations of the pleasure derivable from a recognition of verisimilitude in ideal character, I may just observe how greatly it enlarges the sphere of artistic effect. Were it not for the gratification of this refined sentiment, the novelist could represent only those varieties of character which have some of the intrinsic attractions discussed in the previous essay. Yet who does not feel that many of the characters which possess a real interest in fiction would be exceedingly dull if met with in real life? One suspects, for instance, that some of the entertaining side figures in The Mill on the Floss would be positively dreary acquaintances. Such an ideal portrait owes its chief attraction to the charming manner in which dominant traits are hit off, and the whole character rendered clear and harmonious.

Art delights us as a faithful copy of nature, yet not merely in this aspect. It has often been observed that a slavish and unreflecting reproduction of nature's details can never constitute art. Only when an artist comprehends the totality of nature, recognizing the essential and the non-essential, the more and the less worthy, and the compatible and the incompatible, and only when he adapts his picture of nature to the emotional sensibilities of the human mind, elevating what is pleasing, and disguising what is offensive, can he reveal nature to us as a noble and beautiful mistress to whom we cannot but do homage. The artistic fashioner of character shows this ideality in the selection of those aspects of human nature which are most universal, most valuable, and most pleasurable to

witness, and also in the construction of such surroundings as will best call forth these qualities of mind.

We may view this selective process under two aspects. First of all, in the choice of individual characters as wholes, the artist will seek to exclude from his groups the common and uninteresting varieties of character, and to render prominent the more impressive and beautiful types. Secondly, after he has fixed upon a particular cast of character, he will wish to choose the best from among all conceivable circumstances and actions in which the character may unfold itself. With respect to the first mode of selection, it is evident that the pleasure of the spectacle will be greater in proportion to the quantity of aesthetic attraction in the character selected for representation. Fiction owes much to its capability of shutting out from view the dull and commonplace characters of our every-day society. In ordinary life but few of us are privileged to see men and women of impressive nobleness of disposition, of exquisite sensibility, or of ample humour. Yet, in the narrower circle to which the novelist introduces us, we rather expect to meet the most entertaining and admirable types of character. Fiction gains a further advantage from this facility of selection, namely, a certain effectiveness of grouping, that is to say, an arrangement of characters under the most impressive aspects of contrast and relief. Many a character known in real life fails to leave any deep impression because of a certain indistinctness of outline, or a want of strongly marked points of contrast with the society of which it forms a unit. Were it transplanted to another and widely different social environment, it might prove a striking object of contemplation. Now this want in the actual order of life the artist is able to make good by means of happy and striking juxtapositions. The nearer any two objects are placed to each other, the greater the probability of their diversity striking the mind of an observer; and hence we find that the best dramatists and novelists frequently paint their characters in sharp contrast to those of their nearest relatives and companions, or to persons likely to be associated with them in the reader's mind through similarity of age, etc.*

Many striking effects of this antithesis are to be found in Shakspeare. I may select the contrast between Prince Henry and Henry Percy in Henry IV., between Othello and Iago, Hamlet and Laertes, Cordelia and her sisters. Goethe makes a fine point of the contrast between the chivalrous Egmont and the prudent William of Orange, and between the sensitive poet Tasso and the resolute unemotional statesman Antonio. In fiction I may just refer to Miss Austen's Pride and Prejudice and Sense and Sensibility, which are professedl based on a contrast of mental disposition.

Similarly, an artist may introduce otherwise uninteresting and even repulsive types of character as points of balance and relief to the more attractive figures. The most delightful qualities in human nature would soon lose their charm if they presented themselves uniformly in all persons, and an ideal society in which everybody is equally amiable and praiseworthy will fail to convey a worthy artistic impression. The judicious use of the less pleasing forms of character-if free from all effect of violent repulsiveness, and in strict subordination to a total pleasurable effect—is one of the distinguishing attainments of the true artist.

The second kind of artistic selection in the construction of character, namely, that which has to do with the details of an individual figure, is still more important than the first. When, for example, a novelist has determined to illustrate a particular variety of temperament, there instantly occurs a number of questions as to the best mode of placing in prominent light the aspect of character fixed upon. There are two principal methods by which this prominence may be secured. The first is the method of Characterization, or the indication of a particular mode of disposition by appropriate actions; the second is that of Isolation, or the separation of the particular quality as far as possible from all other and confusing attributes.

To express briefly and unambiguously a certain peculiarity of character is by no means an easy attainment. It presupposes a careful observation and an accurate knowledge of all the many less obtrusive effects of temperament and ruling impulse, both on external behaviour, and on the order of internal ideas. In so far as the poet or novelist selects just such effects as are produced universally by the particular quality of mind, and produced by no other in precisely similar form, so far will his delineation, however sketchy and incomplete, be sharp in outline and distinct in form. Further, in order to compass this higher style of characterization, the author will need to employ a certain selectiveness with respect to the successive situations and circumstances of the person to be described. In daily life, the most charming and admirable moral qualities may remain latent for want of a fitting situation which would stimulate them into full activity. The artist supplies this deficiency by arranging surroundings fitted to call forth into striking and brilliant play the forces of character which he seeks to illustrate. Thus, for example, in the comedy of character, as distinguished from that of plot, a chief element of success is a happy co-ordination of events suitable to the required development of ludicrous traits of character.

The second artistic process by which a given moral quality may be rendered distinct and conspicuous, namely, by isolating it as far as possible from all other qualities likely to obscure it, has, if judiciously executed, a considerable value. We saw in the preceding essay that even in real life the prominence of one or two ruling elements in a character affords an observer a pleasurable impression of unity, while it gratifies the tendency of every variety of emotion to monopolize consciousness. These same impulses, intellectual and emotional, serve to give value to simplicity in fictitious character. In addition to this, it must be remembered that a certain one-sidedness of moral nature in fiction, by supplying the reader with one or two definite characteristics, is favourable to an easy recollection of the several names and,. consequently, to a ready comprehension of the story.

Yet while this method of isolating ingredients of human nature has these advantages, it is not always a safe process. The danger which uniformly besets it is that of substituting abstract fragments of character for concrete wholes. When a particular member of an ideal group of persons invariably exhibits the same peculiarities of thought or feeling, behaves in precisely the same manner, and even uses the same forms of speech, he becomes, to a discerning observer, too mechanical, and loses the semblance of the varied and complex human structure.* This defect has been more than once attributed to many of the characters in Dickens's novels. One may safely affirm that with respect to the principal figures of a drama or a story this abstract method of representation is artistically wrong. Where a character presents itself again and again under varying circumstances and in different moods, we reasonably expect to see the play of manifold moral forces. Amid the variegated scenes and during the long processes of a drama, and still more of a novel, we look not only for much of this alternate play of light and shade in individual feeling, but also for permanent changes of mental development. At the same time, one must concede that in the case of many of the side-figures of a story or drama this organic completeness of character is neither possible nor desirable. If in actual

This defect has been well pointed out by Hurd in the discussion of the drama which he interweaves into his Commentary on Horace. Lessing quotes the whole passage in the ninety-second and ninety-third chapters of the Dramaturgy.

† Mr. Lewes has well illustrated this lack of concreteness in the creations of our popular novelist. See the Fortnightly Review for February, 1872.