Page:The Atlantic Monthly Volume 109.djvu/689

 A gossipy chronicle of life in Washington, from the point of view of a sensible Western lady, gives many an amusing glimpse of social and political affairs at our national capital; while Mr. Meredith Nicholson’s Hoosier Chronicle presents a broad and interesting picture of Indiana life. The history of the making and marring of men in politics is strongly conceived and graphically presented, while throughout, a certain high-mindedness on the part of the author makes itself felt refreshingly. More than one interesting character emerges, the most delightful of all being Mrs. Sally Owen, the elderly lady who is wise in regard to many things besides blooded horses. Romance runs through this chronicle of state events, and mystery involving the heroine of the tale lends piquancy and charm.

Two books of light comedy present the young American hero in those characteristics which are as much a part of his make-up as is the vestment of stars and stripes in the caricatures of Uncle Sam: quick resourcefulness, humor, unconventionality, absolute disinterestedness, imperturbable strength. Both novels are full of idyllic appeal, of romance, whose charm is strengthened by loveliness of background; in the one case the green meadows of Dapplemere, in the other a moss-grown ancestral castle. The Arcadia of the Money Moon has unusual fascination, but is not the chink of quite so many pounds of gold in that pastoral atmosphere a little vulgar? Both stories are humorous, and well-fitted to beguile the weariest reader in his weariest hour.

The suggestion of idyllic atmosphere brings to mind Mrs. Burnett’s latest tale, which comes like a breath of spring from the childhood of the world. It is a story of the healing power of nature, transforming an ill-tempered, selfish little girl into a happy and generous one. Though it is frankly based on an ethical idea, and the forces shaping character are drawn with unmistakable moral intent, yet so potent still is the author’s genius that the idea, like the old garden, becomes alive. The amazing naturalness of the three children makes the children in the other books of the season seem self-conscious, and one marvels anew at the secret of the undying freshness of Mrs. Burnett’s work.

There are several novels in which character-study is rather especially emphasized, perhaps at the expense of plot. Christopher is a genial and pleasant account of the development of a sensitive, impressionable lad, presented in a leisurely manner that has the charm of an elder day. The study of the earlier years is more interesting than that of later days, partly perhaps because of the picturesqueness of the foreign background, but partly, too, because the child-psychology is more definitely and vividly rendered than is that of youth.

Adrian Savage is the first book by Lucas Malet that I can recall which connects her thought with that of her father, Charles Kingsley. The theme, like that of the Saint’s Tragedy, is the glory of matrimony, though the daughter is fighting, not false asceticism but false intellectuality. The abstract plea is cleverly hidden behind the prolonged