This edition has been scanned, proofed and corrected for errors…
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An excerpt from the beginning of:
Chapter I.
The Novel as an Art-Form.
There is very little idea in this country as yet that the pursuit of art in any form, unless as a means of livelihood, may be a serious occupation of one's time. We may no longer consider a theatrical performance in itself sinful, but the cloud in which all kinds of public entertainment were so long enveloped has not entirely lifted, and our newly-acquired tolerance has not yet ripened even into approval, far less into enthusiasm. Even a high-class concert is regarded by many respectable people as a more or less frivolous relaxation, or at best a harmless amusement rather than a means of culture. In this depreciation of art the novel fully shares—indeed, it is depressed even below the other arts in the public esteem. To devote leisure time to pictures or music or poetry is quite respectable; but to be a confirmed theatre-goer or novel-reader lays one open to the suspicion of levity. What justice is there in this distinction? As regards the theatre there is perhaps some ground for it. It is part of the conditions of the drama that it should tend to keep on a comparatively low level. The expense of representation demands an appeal to the popular taste more imperatively than where specially-selected audiences can be addressed, and the opportunities of seeing what is distinctly above the average appreciation are therefore rare. Except in the largest centres, accordingly, to be a frequent theatre-goer means to be easily satisfied. But no such reason applies in the case of novel-reading. Good novels are as much within reach as bad ones. Why is there in some quarters such a presumption against it? It is not only that the constant novel-reader is looked at with suspicion, but one scarcely even says "I have been reading a novel", without feeling that some kind of excuse is expected. The explanation of this must be sought by enquiring briefly: What is the relation of art to life, and what is the place of prose fiction among the arts?
We have as yet no satisfactory philosophy of aesthetics, but whatever be the outer conditions of an impression of beauty, the enjoyment of it is clearly a function of the brain, when affected through the nerves of vision, or one of the other bodily senses. Out of the various influences afforded by the eye, the ear, the palate, there arises a general faculty of perceiving and enjoying beauty, which may be appealed to, not only directly by sensible objects, but by suggestion through the memory and imagination. Such indirect impressions will naturally be less vivid, but they are equally real with those received through the senses. It is not by a mere analogy that we pass from sensuous beauty to what is called intellectual or moral beauty. An outward action is simply a series of visible forms or pictures, and when any such series seems well adjusted to a reasonable end we call it graceful. Here we discover the close relation of the beautiful to the useful. It is a natural extension of this perception of appropriate action to represent to our minds some further end, not immediately present either in space or time, and it is with this conception that we follow any course of events or system of conduct. The enjoyment of beauty is thus brought about by certain sense-impressions, either singly or in combination, either directly or indirectly, through the memory or imagination…..
