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  THE SPLENDID SPUR

  Being Memoirs of The Adventures of Mr. John Marvel, A Servant of HisLate Majesty King Charles I., In The Years 1642-3: Written by Himself:Edited in Modern English by Q (Arthur T. Quiller Couch)

  By Arthur T. Quiller Couch

  1897

  "I loved thee so, boy Jack."]

  TO

  EDWARD GWYNNE EARDLEY-WILMOT.

  _MY DEAR EDDIE,

  Whatever view a story-teller may take of his business, 'tis happy whenhe can think, "This book of mine will please such and such a friend,"and may set that friend's name after the title page. For even if toplease (as some are beginning to hold) should be no part of his aim,at least 'twill always be a reward: and (in unworthier moods) next to aWriter I would choose to be a Lamplighter, as the only other that getsso cordial a "God bless him!" in the long winter evenings.

  To win such a welcome at such a time from a new friend or two would bethe happiest fortune for my tale. But to you I could wish it to speakparticularly, seeing that under the coat of_ JACK MARVEL _beats theheart of your friend_

  Q.

  _Torquay, August 22d_, 1889.

  INTRODUCTORY NOTE.

  "Q."

  A year or two ago it was observed that three writers were using thecuriously popular signature "Q." This was hardly less confusing thanthat one writer should use three signatures (Grant Allen, ArbuthnotWilson, and Anon), but as none of the three was willing to try anotherletter, they had to leave it to the public (whose decision in suchmatters is final) to say who is Q to it. The public said, Let him wearthis proud letter who can win it, and for the present at least it isin the possession of the author of "The Splendid Spur" and "The BluePavilions." It would seem, too, as if it were his "to keep," for "Q" islike the competition cups that are only yours for a season, unless youmanage to carry them three times in succession. Mr. Quiller-Couch hasbeen champion Q since 1890.

  The interesting question is not so much, What has he done to be the onlyprominent Q of these years, as Is he to be the Q of all time? If so, hewill do better work than he has yet done, though several of his latestsketches--and one in particular--are of very uncommon merit. Mr.Quiller-Couch is so unlike Mr. Kipling that one immediately wants tocompare them. They are both young, and they have both shown such promisethat it will be almost sad if neither can write a book to live--as,of course, neither has done as yet. Mr. Kipling is the more audacious,which is probably a matter of training. He was brought up in India,where one's beard grows much quicker than at Oxford, and where you notonly become a man (and a cynic) in a hurry, but see and hear strangethings (and print them) such as the youth of Oxford miss, or, becomingacquainted with, would not dare insert in the local magazine of themoment. So Mr. Kipling's first work betokened a knowledge of the worldthat is by no means to be found in "Dead Man's Rock," the first bookpublished by Mr. Quiller-Couch. On the other hand, it cannot truly besaid that Mr. Kipling's latest work is stronger than his first, whilethe other writer's growth is the most remarkable thing about him. Itis precisely the same Mr. Kipling who is now in the magazines that waswriting some years ago in India (and a rare good Mr. Kipling too), butthe Mr. Quiller-Couch of to-day is the Quiller-Couch of "Dead Man'sRock" grown out of recognition. To compare their styles is really tocompare the men. Mr. Kipling's is the more startling, the stronger (asyet), and the more mannered. Mark Twain, it appears, said he reads Mr.Kipling for his style, which is really the same thing as saying you readhim for his books, though the American seems only to have meant thathe eats the beef because he likes the salt. It is a journalistic style,aiming too constantly at sharp effects, always succeeding in gettingthem. Sometimes this is contrived at the expense of grammar, as when (acommon trick with the author) he ends a story with such a paragraph as"Which is manifestly unfair." Mr. Quiller-Couch has never sinned in thisway, but his first style was somewhat turgid, even melodramatic, and,compared with Mr. Kipling's, lacked distinction. From the beginning Mr.Kipling had the genius for using the right word twice in threetimes (Mr. Stevenson only misses it about once in twelve), whileMr. Quiller-Couch not only used the wrong word, but weighted it withadjectives. The charge, however, cannot be brought against him to-day,for having begun by writing like a Mr. Haggard not quite sure of himself(if one can imagine such a Mr. Haggard), and changing to an obviousimitation of Mr. Stevenson, he seems now to have made a style forhimself. It is clear and careful, but not as yet strong winged. Itsdistinctive feature is that it is curiously musical.

  "Dead Man's Rock" is a capital sensational story to be read and at onceforgotten. It was followed by "The Astonishing History of Troy Town,"which was humorous, and proved that the author owed a debt to Dickens.But it was not sufficiently humorous to be remarkable for its humor, andit will go hand in hand with "Dead Man's Rock" to oblivion. Until "TheSplendid Spur" appeared Mr. Quiller-Couch had done little to suggestthat an artist had joined the ranks of the story-tellers. It is not inanyway a great work, but it was among the best dozen novels of its year,and as the production of a new writer it was one of the most notable.About the same time was published another historical romance of thesecond class (for to nothing short of Sir Walter shall we give afirst-class in this department), "Micah Clarke," by Mr. Conan Doyle. Itwas as inevitable that the two books should be compared as that he whoenjoyed the one should enjoy the other. In one respect "Micah Clarke" isthe better story. It contains one character, a soldier of fortune, whois more memorable than any single figure in "The Splendid Spur." This,however, is effected at a cost, for this man is the book. It contains,indeed, two young fellows, one of them a John Ridd, but no Diana Vernonwould blow a kiss to either. Both stories are weak in pathos, despiteJoan, but there are a score of humorous situations in "The SplendidSpur" that one could not forget if he would--which he would not--as, forinstance, where hero and heroine are hidden in barrels in a ship, andhero cries through his bunghole, "Wilt marry me, sweetheart?" to whichheroine replies, "Must get out of this cask first." Better still is thescene in which Captain Billy expatiates, with a mop and a bucket, on themerits of his crew. But the passages are for reading, not for hearingabout. Of the characters, this same Captain Billy is not the worst, butperhaps the best is Joan, Mr. Quiller-Couch's first successful pictureof a girl. A capital eccentric figure is killed (some good thingsare squandered in this book) just when we are beginning to find him agenuine novelty. Anything that is ready to leap into danger seems tobe thought good enough for the hero of a fighting romance, so that JackMarvel will pass (though Delia, as is right and proper, is worth two ofhim, despite her coming-on disposition). The villain is a failure, andthe plot poor. Nevertheless there are some ingenious complications init. Jack's escape by means of the hangman's rope, which was to send himout of the world in a few hours, is a fine rollicking bit of sensation.Where Mr. Quiller-Couch and Mr. Conan Doyle both fail as compared withthe great master of romance is in the introduction of historical figuresand episodes. Scott would have been a great man if he had written nonovel but "The Abbott" (one of his second best), and no part of"The Abbott" but the scene in which Mary signs away her crown. Mr.Quiller-Couch almost entirely avoids such attempts, and even Mr. ConanDoyle only dips into them timidly. There is, one has been told, a theorythat the romancist has no right to picture history in this way. But hemakes his rights when he does it as Scott did it.

  Since "The Splendid Spur," Mr. Quiller-Couch has published nothing inbook form which can be considered an advance on his best novel, butthere have appeared by him a number of short Cornish sketches, which areperhaps best considered as experiments. They are perilously slight, andwhere they are successful one remembers them as sweet dreams or like
abar of music. All aim at this effect, so that many should not be takenat a time, and some (as was to be expected with such delicate work)miss their mark. It might be said that in several of these melodiesMr. Quiller-Couch has been writing the same thing again and again,determined to succeed absolutely, if not this time then the next, andif not the next time then the time after. In one case he has succeededabsolutely. "The Small People," is a prose "Song of the Shirt." To mymind this is a rare piece of work, and the biggest thing for its sizethat has been done in English fiction for some years.

  These sketches have been called experiments. They show (as his booksscarcely show) that Mr. Quiller-Couch can feel. They suggest that he maybe able to do for Cornwall what Mr. Hardy has done for Dorset--thoughthe methods of the two writers are as unlike as their counties. But thatcan only be if in filling his notebook with these little comedies andtragedies Mr. Quiller-Couch is preparing for more sustained efforts.

  "Our hope and heart is with thee We will stand and mark."

  J. M. BARRIE.