To contend, however, for a moment that the present volume is Miss Austen's greatest, as it was her first published, novel, would be a mere exercise in paradox. There are, who swear by Persuasion; there are, who prefer Emma and Mansfield Park; there is a large contingent for Pride and Prejudice; and there is even a section which advocates the pre-eminence of Northanger Abbey. But no one, as far as we can remember, has ever put Sense and Sensibility first, nor can we believe that its author did so herself. And yet it is she herself who has furnished the standard by which we judge it, and it is by comparison with Pride and Prejudice, in which the leading characters are also two sisters, that we assess and depress its merit. The Elinor and Marianne of Sense and Sensibility are only inferior when they are contrasted with the Elizabeth and Jane of Pride and Prejudice; and even then, it is probably because we personally like the handsome and amiable Jane Bennet rather better than the obsolete survival of the sentimental novel represented by Marianne Dashwood. Darcy and Bingley again are much more 'likeable' (to use Lady Queensberry's word) than the colourless Edward Ferrars and the stiff-jointed Colonel Brandon. Yet it might not unfairly be contended that there is more fidelity to what Mr. Thomas Hardy has termed 'life's little ironies' in Miss Austen's disposal of the two Miss Dashwoods than there is in her disposal of the heroines of Pride and Prejudice. Every one does not get a Bingley, or a Darcy (with a park); but a good many sensible girls like Elinor pair off contentedly with poor creatures like Edward Ferrars, while not a few enthusiasts like Marianne decline at last upon middle-aged colonels with flannel waistcoats. George Eliot, we fancy, would have held that the fates of Elinor and Marianne were more probable than the fortunes of Jane and Eliza Bennet. That, of the remaining characters, there is certainly none to rival Mr. Bennet, or Lady Catherine de Bourgh, or the ineffable Mr. Collins, of Pride and Prejudice, is true; but we confess to a kindness for vulgar matchmaking Mrs. Jennings with her still-room 'parmaceti for an inward bruise' in the shape of a glass of old Constantia; and for the diluted Squire Western, Sir John Middleton, whose horror of being alone carries him to the point of rejoicing in the acquisition of two to the population of London. Excellent again are Mr. Palmer and his wife; excellent, in their sordid veracity, the self-seeking figures of the Miss Steeles. But the pearls of the book must be allowed to be that egregious amateur in toothpick-cases, Mr. Robert Ferrars (with his excursus in chapter xxxvi. on life in a cottage), and the admirably-matched Mr. and Mrs. John Dashwood. Miss Austen herself has never done anything better than the inimitable and oft-quoted chapter wherein is debated between the last-named pair the momentous matter of the amount to be devoted to Mrs. Dashwood and her daughters; while the suggestion in chapters xxxiii. and xxxiv. that the owner of Norland was once within some thousands of having to sell out at a loss, deserves to be remembered with that other memorable escape of Sir Roger de Coverley's ancestor, who was only not killed in the civil wars because 'he was sent out of the field upon a private message, the day before the battle of Worcester.'

Of local colouring there is as little in Sense and Sensibility as in Pride and Prejudice. It is not unlikely that some memories of Steventon may survive in Norland; and it may be noted that there is actually a Barton Place to the north of Exeter, not far from Lord Iddesleigh's well-known seat of Upton Pynes. It is scarcely possible, also, not to believe that, in Mrs. Jennings's description of Delaford--'a nice place, I can tell you; exactly what I call a nice old-fashioned place, full of comforts and conveniences; quite shut in with great garden walls that are covered with the best fruit-trees in the country; and such a mulberry tree in one corner!'--Miss Austen had in mind some real Hampshire or Devonshire country house. In any case, it comes nearer a picture than what we usually get from her pen. 'Then there is a dovecote, some delightful stew-ponds, and a very pretty canal; and everything, in short, that one could wish for; and, moreover, it is close to the church, and only a quarter of a mile from the turnpike-road, so 'tis never dull, for if you only go and sit up in an old yew arbour behind the house, you may see all the carriages that pass along.' The last lines suggest those quaint 'gazebos' and alcoves, which, in the coaching days, were so often to be found perched at the roadside, where one might sit and watch the Dover or Canterbury stage go whirling by. Of genteel accomplishments there is a touch In the 'landscape in coloured silks' which Charlotte Palmer had worked at school (chap, xxvi.); and of old remedies for the lost art of swooning, in the 'lavender drops' of chapter xxix. The mention of a dance as a 'little hop' in chapter ix. reads like a premature instance of middle Victorian slang. But nothing is new--even in a novel--and 'hop,' in this sense, is at least as old as Joseph Andrews.

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LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Mr. Dashwood introduced him Frontispiece

His son's son, a child of four years old

"I cannot imagine how they will spend half of it"

So shy before company

They sang together

He cut off a long lock of her hair

"I have found you out in spite of all your tricks"

Apparently In violent affliction

Begging her to stop

Came to take a survey of the guest

"I declare they are quite charming"

Mischievous tricks

Drinking to her best affections

Amiably bashful

"I can answer for it," said Mrs. Jennings

At that moment she first perceived him

"How fond he was of it!"

Offered him one of Folly's puppies

A very smart beau

Introduced to Mrs. Jennings

Mrs. Jennings assured him directly that she should not stand upon ceremony

Mrs. Ferrars

Drawing him a little aside

In a whisper

"You have heard, I suppose"

Talking over the business

"She put in the feather last night"

Listening at the door

Both gained considerable amusement

"Of one thing I may assure you"

Showing her child to the housekeeper

The gardener's lamentations

Opened a window-shutter

"I entreat you to stay"

"I was formally dismissed"

"I have entered many a shop to avoid your sight"

"And see how the children go on"

"I suppose you know, ma'am, that Mr. Ferrars is married"

It was Edward

"Everything in such respectable condition"

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