LITERATURE OF THE DAY.
774
LITERATURE OF THE DAY. Democracy: An American Novel. (Leisure ‘ into close intercourse with Ratcliffe, and Hour Series.) New York: Henry Holt who is alternately fascinated and repelled & Co. by his bold, astute and unscrupulous course. In certain directions American novel Her own conduct, and the danger of her writing has been making rapid progress of marrying Ratcliffe and becoming an instru late. Under the leadership of Mr. James ment of his ambition, arouse the solicitude and Mr. Howells it is taking on a charac of her sister and of a chivalrous friend, a ter of its own. If not yet racy and sponta Virginian of the old school, who cherishes neous, it has ceased to be nerveless and pur a secret and hopeless love for her; and the
poseless.
If it gives us no fresh, free pic
combined efforts of the two to save her from
tures of life, stamped with fidelity and im- ' Ratclifl'e's designs form the undercurrent of the action and bring about the dénouement. bued with charm, it has learned to work up its materials carefully, to present distinct and Among the minor characters having little or
even vivid images, and to aim at artistic ex cellence both as regards construction and in the management of details. Its improvement, in short, has been greater in form than in substance. ‘Vhat seems likely to be its dis tinguishing characteristic is a superabun
dant cleverness.
lts prevailing tone is that
of delicate satire; the characters it sets be fore us are “ studies;" the observations and dialogue are epigrammatic-, the scenes and incidents reveal not only the writer's aim,
nothing to do with the plot are a couple of foreign envoys, Lord Skye and Baron Jacobi, whose comments serve as a kind of chorus,
and Miss Virginia Dare, who typifies the peculiarities of the American young lady as displayed in society at “lashington and else where.
These are sufficiently good elements for a story distinctively and characteristically American, and they are handled with con
but his views of things in general. There is rarely a suggestion of unconscious inspi
siderable skill. There is no lack of con tinuity in the action, no dulness in the de scriptions, no sign of languor, indecision or
ration, of a mirror-like mind reflecting not
want of clear perceptions in the manage
only the lines but the hues of the shapes that pass before it. Hence, while our ad
ment of the story or in the writing. The style is crisp and pointed, the conversations
miration is continually excited, we are sel dom deeply moved, seldom made grateful for
some added knowledge of human nature or some wider or warmer sympathy with its va ried ways of acting and feeling. The book before us, being neither the best nor the worst of its class, shows the merits and defects we have spoken of in about an
equal degree. Its aim, which is not well represented by its titleI is to depict the po litical society of Washington, the character
istics of the class which cabals and ma noeuvres for the possession of office and
power.
These characteristics are all em
bodied in the person of Senator Ratclilfe, the other figures of the same class, includ ing the newly-elected President, being either his tools or his victims, and much more faint ly delineated. The heroine, Mrs. Lee, is a widow, rich, refined and intellectual, whose absorbed interest as a spectator brings her
are generally entertaining, there are many
vigorous sketches of characters and scenes, and many touches, if not of humor, of a piquancy that may pass for wit. Yet the general effect is far from being that of a
faithful and well-painted picture.
The lines
are hard, the coloring is cold, there is a gen
eral baldness which prevents the objects de lineated from being seen in their natural as pect and relations and producing blended impressions. Types, rather than individuals, are presented to us—salient features;instead of a phase of life with all its component parts conceived as a whole. Hence the reader's interest in the book is mainly critical. He never loses the sense of watching a perform ance.
He is amused, but he acknowledges
no illusion. His feelings are unstirred, his views, whatever they may have been, remain unmodified. He has gained no light and felt no warmth.
