hing about it is that the books should have found
publishers at all, and add, sourly, that if all similar coincidences
were brought to light by publication, the condition of English fiction
would be more hopeless than it is.

But the cynic would be wrong, as usual. If it is admitted that the new
books of Mr. Hichens and Mr. Thurston are not "epoch-making," it still
remains a fact that they are as nearly so as any of the books of the
year; they narrowly miss the standard which entitles them to be
genuine and permanent representatives of English literature.

No one needs to be reminded that love stories, in which the lovers are
required to surmount all sorts of obstacles, are common enough; one of
the chief difficulties in supplying the demand is to create obstacles
of the sort that will stand the test of plausibility and yet add a
reasonable means by which the hero and heroine may overcome them, for
the distracted couple must live up to what is expected of them, and
their romance must be molded by the practical maxim that nothing
succeeds like success--success meaning that their final happiness must
be in conformity with the necessities of conventional morality; their
union either blessed by the church of their faith or confirmed by law.
And it might be added that the reader, in the majority of cases, will
be conscious of a sense of uneasiness unless the happy outcome is
effected not only with his own approbation, but with that of the
conscience of each of the lovers. If any question of right and wrong
is left unsettled for them, the reader remains dissatisfied, no matter
what consideration of principle he may himself feel justified in
disregarding.

A man devoted to celibacy, by vows voluntarily made to the church
which he looks upon as his spiritual director, who finds himself in
love with a woman, in the nature of things presents an attractive
problem to a novelist--probably because the solution is so difficult;
to be sure, the theme is not altogether new, but it possesses an
interest that is never wholly satisfied; it suggests all sorts of
dramatic possibilities; it supplies material for an intense climax,
and it provokes discussion.

People will differ about what a man's duty is under such
circumstances, and the question will be asked whether his allegiance
is due to the church or to the woman who returns his love, overlooking
what may perhaps be the fact that it is not so much a question of
loyalty to the chur