r may ask. A
novel, says the learned Charles Annandale, is "a fictitious prose
narrative, involving some plot of greater or less intricacy, and
professing to give a picture of real life, generally exhibiting the
passions and sentiments, in a state of great activity, and especially
the passion of love." Well, "Amaryllis at the Fair" is a fictitious
prose narrative professing to give a picture of real life, and involving
a plot of little intricacy. Certainly it exhibits the passions and
sentiments in a state of great activity. But Mr. Henry Salt, whose
little book on Jefferies is the best yet published, further remarks:
"Jefferies was quite unable to give any vivid dramatic life to his
stories . . . his instinct was that of the naturalist who observes and
moralizes rather than that of the novelist who penetrates and
interprets; and consequently his rustic characters, though strongly and
clearly drawn, do not live, as, for example, those of Thomas Hardy
live. . . . Men and animals are alike mere figures in his landscapes."

* * * * *

So far the critics. Jefferies being justly held to be "no ordinary
novelist," it is inferred by most that something is wrong with
"Amaryllis the Fair," and the book has been passed over in silence. But
we do not judge every novel by the same test. We do not judge "Tristram
Shandy," for example, by its intricate plot, or by its "vivid drama," we
judge it simply as an artistic revelation of human life and by its
humorous insight into human character. And judged by the same simple
test "Amaryllis at the Fair," we contend, is a living picture of life, a
creative work of imagination of a high order. Iden, the unsuccessful
farmer who "built for all time, and not for the circumstances of the
hour," is a masterly piece of character drawing. But Iden is a personal
portrait, the reader may object, Well, what about Uncle Toby? From what
void did he spring? Iden, to our mind, is almost as masterly a
conception, as broadly human a figure as Uncle Toby. And Mrs. Iden,
where will you find this type of nervous, irritable wife, full of
spiteful disillusioned love for her dilatory husband better painted than
by Jefferies? But Mrs. Iden is a type, not an individual, the reader may
say. Excellent reader! and what about the Widow Wadman? She is no less
and no more of an individual than is Mrs. Iden. It was a great feat of
Sterne to create so cunningly the atmosphere of the Shandy h