Page:The Dial (Volume 73).djvu/791

Rh The point is that the problem of the artist lies elsewhere, and that the novel after Dostoevsky has given too much attention to the document. The document per se, being neither beautiful nor unbeautiful, falls into quite another plane of considerations from purely aesthetic ones. And if Dostoevsky must stand for his revelations of the human soul, then he stands as nothing other than a scientist who was improperly trained in scientific methods of presentation, and who gave us consequently a hodgepodge rather than a schematization. One might have thought that the peculiarly vigorous flourishing of science would have served rather to purge literature of any documentary obligations, just as the perfection of photography has brought about a similar release in painting. But instead, literature was swept into a sympathetic movement, and science became a burden rather than an instrument of liberation.

Perhaps, to define unescapably just how I should distinguish between the psychology of form and the psychology of subject-matter, I should pin myself to a specific illustration. We read, then, in The Things We Are:

" Bettington felt sad. It seemed to him that at the moment when he knew his friend, his friend was embarking on a great journey with him, a journey more dangerous perhaps, but far more wonderful than his own. It was too much. To have to say two farewells at the same moment was more than he could bear, more than he ought to bear; and besides, there was a strange envy in his heart. He must confess it.

I envy you old man. I can’' help it; I try not to.'

I wonder you don't hate me as well.'

No, I don't hate you I don't think I do. Why should I? I don't feeling you’re taking Felicia away from me. The more I think about her, the more I know she wasn't mine. But envy, yes. I'm afraid it goes pretty deep, too.' After a minute he added," et cetera.

Perhaps the author has established whether it is hate or envy. But I take liberty to assure the reader that he will not care. The information is there; but the issue hardly seems a contribution to beauty. Of course, I do not deny that even this sort of information