name, chronicles of Cranford over again. Now and then, indeed—but not very often—as in the account of Lady Harriet’s surprise visit to the Miss Brownings, or in the meditations of Mrs. Goodenough, passim, we have the actual Cranford brought back to us; and quite exceptionally, as in the passage concerning Mrs. Gibson’s Methodist cook, a slightly out-of-date flavour of humour, occasionally traceable in the earlier work. But, speaking generally, the aspects under which the familiar localities are presented in “Wives and Daughters” are as fresh as the incidents of which they are the scene and as the characters who appear in them.

In the first place, we now become acquainted with the relations between the good folk of the town and the Towers, the seat of the “belted earl”, who is the magnate par excellence of the whole division of the county, with his far more majestic countess. No “actualities” are, of course, here transferred to the story except the local association, which has been well described by a writer whom I have already had the pleasure of citing:

“Then, about the town, too, were the tree-shaded roads, the old halls, among them those of Tatton, Tabley, and Toft, with their broad park-lands; that of Tatton having its lodge-gate at the end of the main street, which was in [Mrs. Gaskell’s] mind, no doubt, and perhaps a personal reminiscence, when in ‘Wives and Daughters’ we are given a description of Molly Gibson’s first visit to the Towers.”¹

We have it on excellent authority² that the account of Lady Cumnor’s garden-party is “a facsimile” of those which the first Lady Egerton of Tatton used to give to certain inhabitants of Knutsford, and that “the scene of Molly Gibson’s mishap can be easily identified by any one familiar with the garden at Tatton.”

In the account-of Hamley Hall I am unable to say whether reminiscences of Sandlebridge are not interwoven with those of other Cheshire halls of a larger type; I should be glad to think that a feature or two had been borrowed either from Tabley or from Toft, both of which have remembrances of their own dear to every lover of fine literature. What, however, is well assured is that no family reminiscences contributed to the life-like, though rather saddening, picture of the Hamley household; and quite equally certain is it that there is nothing of Dr. Peter Holland, Mrs. Gaskell’s uncle, who resided as a practising physician at Knutsford, in the personality of Mr. Gibson—except the honour in which he was held in the community around him. Mr. Gibson is the type of a country doctor such as may still be found here and there in the south of England as well as in the north, even in days when motors have superseded the traditional dog-cart, in which Molly rejoiced to sit by her father’s side—

“the back-seat shut up, and the light weight going swiftly and merrily bumping over the stone-paved lanes.

“ ‘Oh, this is charming!’ said Molly, after a toss-up on her seat from a tremendous bump.”

Molly—for in speaking of what seems to me most noticeable in this delightful book, I must speak first of that which is nearest to my heart — is perhaps the loveliest conception to be found in all Mrs. Gaskell’s writings; and this conception is brought before us without a flaw in the execution. Some great masters of fiction—I think, to go no further back, Fielding might be cited as one instance, and Dickens as another—seem at their very best, when they are picturing to themselves and to their readers what, in a noble passage, the former describes as more glorious than the sun in all his majesty—an exemplar of true human beneficence. But the golden warmth of the radiance that seems to emanate from the character of Molly Gibson is explicable only if we remember that in her virgin mind the impulses of her noble nature have free play, while that nature remains immutably true to itself. Thus she confronts the hard trials of her young life with a spirit which, like that of the knight who is sure to meet dragons in his path, is never impar congressui. The first of Molly’s dragons is an “every-day” one; indeed, there would have been little that was appalling in Mr. Coxe (who must have been cousin, though a long way removed, to Mr. Toots), even had his designs not been concealed from Molly by her father’s vigilance. But these designs are the motive cause of her first exile from home, and of the first serious trial of her life—the second marriage of this kind and faithful father. He carries the news of his intention to her while she is