A Change of Air

In his speech at the annual banquet of the

Royal Academy in 1894, among many other good

things, Mr. Andrew Lang said:

"The thrifty plan of giving us sermons, politics,

fiction, all in one stodgy sandwich, produces

no permanent literature, produces but temporary

'tracts for the times.' Fortunately we

have among us many novelists-young ones,

luckily-who are true to the primitive and

eternal, the Fijian canons of fiction. We have

Oriental romance from the author of 'Plain

Tales from the Hills.' We have the humor and

tenderness-certainly not Fijian, I admit-which

produces that masterpiece 'A Window

in Thrums'; we have the adventurous fancy that

gives us 'A Gentleman of France,' 'The

Master of Ballantrae,' 'Micah Clarke,' 'The

Raiders,' 'The Prisoner of Zenda.'"

The last of these books was by Anthony

Hope Hawkins, whom Mr. Lang thus classed

among potential immortals. This romance

has made him within the last three months

fairly famous. Walter Besant, too, has stamped

it with his high approval, and the English

and American press have been unusually

unanimous in their praise.

Its hero is a rare and striking figure, and

thoroughly represents the ideal soldier of our

Anglo-Saxon race. He faces great dangers

and does brave deeds, quietly and quickly. He

suffers and loves deeply, but says little. In his

portrayal, the possibilities of "repressed emotion"

have been startlingly indicated. He appeals

to Americans and English far more than

the swaggering and loquacious, though more

historic heroes of Dumas and his school ever

can.

Much curiosity has been excited regarding

"Anthony Hope."

The author's methods of composition and what

may have suggested the very original plot are as

yet unknown. Besides what we may get from

his portrait, we are told that he is "a tall, thin,

dark man, with a face that would be ascetic if

it were not bubbling with humor." He is a

lawyer, as other good romancers have been before

him, and has chambers in the Middle

Temple, a place made famous in fiction by

Thackeray and on the stage by Pinero. His

profession and politics are his chief concerns,

and literature a diversion in his leisure hours.

He is an extremely modest man, and in response

to a request from his American publishers

for autobiographical matter, gave the barest

facts of his life. He expressed absolutely no

opinion on literary canons or on his own work.

There was, however, a rare sincerity and cordiality

in his letters.

Anthony Hope Hawkins was born in 1863,

his father being the Rev. E. C. Hawkins of St.

Brides, Fleet Street, London. He was educated

at Marlborough, and at Balliol College, Oxford,

of which he was a scholar. At Oxford, he was

a hard worker and obtained first classes in

Classical Moderations and in the School of

Litter Humaniores, commonly known as

"Greats." At this university, where he attained

the degree of M. A. some eight years ago, he

began to show an aptitude for public life, was a

striking figure among his contemporaries, and

became president of the Union. In 1892 he

stood as a Liberal candidate for a seat in Parliament

from the southern division of Buckinghamshire,

but was defeated by Viscount Curzon.

His first book, "A Man of Mark," was published

in 1890, and was followed next year by

"Father Stafford," an interesting study of an

Anglican priest's struggles between love and

sense of obligation to his vow of celibacy.

The pictures of his cheerless ascetic life are

marked by the sincerity conspicuous in Mr.

Hawkins' later books. Some very thoughtful

conversations on art and on religion are introduced.

In 1892 appeared "Mr. Witt's Widow, a

Frivolous Tale" of a lady who had "harmonious

contrasts," such as dark eyes and golden hair.

It foreshadows the power in plot-making that

characterizes our author's later works.

In the spring of 1893 appeared "Sport Royal,"

a collection of Mr. Hawkins' short stories,

mostly from the St. James' Gazette.

In "Half a Hero," published last year, there

are several foreshadowings of "The Prisoner of

Zenda." In both stories the scene is imaginary,

but given realism by characteristics respectively

of New Zealand and of Germany; in both

intrigues and heroism are conspicuous, though

in the latter the author did not adopt the old

device of giving his hero some bad qualities to

make him human. "Half a Hero" contains

much firm, crisp character-drawing, and a strong

love interest, but has the slight taint of the

"purpose novel," already noted in Father Stafford;

in this case, the discussion being politics,

especially the "labor" element.

Anthony Hope inherited refinement through

a father in an exalted calling; he used his

college advantages to the utmost, and now his

interests are in living public affairs, and in his

chosen calling as a lawyer, he has good opportunities

to study life, and seems already to have

well mastered the best elements of Anglo-Saxon

character. From his work, he appears

to have read widely and with a sympathetic eye

for the merits of markedly diverse writers,

which he seems to make his own. His style

has the terseness and suggestiveness characteristic

of Kipling, but without his harshness, and

at times he shows a sense of beauty almost

worthy of our own Hawthorne, and withal the

military dash and snap of Lever. It would be

strange if the foundation for the remarkably

life-like colonists of "Half a Hero," and the German

officers of "The Prisoner of Zenda," had

had not been laid by travel and the observation

of their more or less remote prototypes.

"A Change of Air," while containing much

of its humor and snap, furnishes a marked contrast

to "The Prisoner of Zenda," and is in a

more serious vein, having a strong and tragic

undercurrent, and not without an element of

peril. Confining its occurrences pretty severely

to the possible and generally probable, it nevertheless

is highly original. Dale Bannister, the

wild young poet, who commences by thoroughly

scandalizing Market Denborough, is a most

picturesque and uncommon character. The

effect of his early principles on his later life is

deftly indicated. The story moves on steadily,

and while it teaches a lesson of moderation and

charity, it does so entirely by the acts and

thoughts of the characters without any sermonizing

on the part of the author. Some good

authorities that have seen this book place it

even above "The Prisoner of Zenda," which we

probably shall see on the stage next year, as

the author has a friend busily engaged on its

dramatization.

R. H.

July, 1894.