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    North and South (with an Introduction by Adolphus William Ward)
    North and South (with an Introduction by Adolphus William Ward)
    North and South (with an Introduction by Adolphus William Ward)
    Ebook663 pages15 hours

    North and South (with an Introduction by Adolphus William Ward)

    By Elizabeth Gaskell

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    Set in the fictional industrial town of Milton in the North of England, “North and South” is Elizabeth Gaskell’s 1855 novel that contrasts the different ways of life in the two respective regions of England. In the North the emerging industrialized society is sharply contrasted with the aging gentry of the agrarian based South. The plot of “North and South” centers around the main character Margaret Hale, the daughter of a non-conformist minister who moves his family to an industrial town in the North after a split from the Church of England. Here the impact of the industrial revolution can be fully seen as tensions between workers and employers over poor working conditions and the growing divide between the rich industrialists and poor factory workers escalate into violent conflict. Originally serialized between September 1854 and January 1855 in Charles Dickens’s “Household Words”, “North and South” was one of the first and most important social novels to address the changes brought about by the industrial revolution in England. This edition includes an introduction by Adolphus William Ward and a biographical afterword.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherDigireads.com Publishing
    Release dateNov 17, 2015
    ISBN9781420951790
    North and South (with an Introduction by Adolphus William Ward)
    Author

    Elizabeth Gaskell

    Elizabeth Gaskell was an English author and poet, and is best-known for her classic novels Cranford, North and South, and Wives and Daughters. Gaskell was a contemporary and an associate of many other early nineteenth-century writers, including Charles Dickens, Harriet Beecher Stowe, and Charlotte Bronte, and was commissioned by Bronte’s father upon the author’s death to write her biography, The Life of Charlotte Bronte. Gaskell died in 1865 at the age of 55.

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    Reviews for North and South (with an Introduction by Adolphus William Ward)

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    • 5/5
      After having watched and re-watched (and re-watched and re-watched and...) the BBC adaptation of North and South, it was only right that I should read the novel. Mind you, it was something I meant to do since the first time I saw it, oh so many years ago. And after a North and South marathon with a friend (until the wee hours of the morning), the book reading was my next step.So, it was with a solid knowledge of the story and clear favourites among the characters (Oh, Mr. Thornton...) that I started. One of the things that I first noticed was the language and the portrayal of Margaret, the main character of this book. I quite liked Margaret in the series, but on my first acquaintance with her in book form I found her a bit petty and snobbish. I knew she would change, but it did shock me. But petty and snobbish as she was, and much due to the amazing writing of Elizabeth Gaskell, I didn't see her as a thing of the past, she was not simply a character of a book, and outdated at that. In a few pages Margaret was a real person, and wouldn't be at all out of place in our days. And the same could be said about the writing. Not old fashioned at all, and together with the characterization of Margaret, I could forget this was set in the 19th century.Enter Mr. Thornton, who in the series is beautifully portrayed by Richard Armitage and I thought couldn't get any better. Well, I was wrong. For, something that is less common in the books that are written nowadays, in North and South we can see both actions and feelings (and thoughts) of all the characters, not just the central one. John Thornton, who to Margaret is a stiff, unfeeling master of the North (and in trade *shock, gasp*), when shown to us in the company of his family and friends proves to be an intelligent, honest and fair man, even if he is set in his ways. Really, the man has his faults, like everyone else, but all in all, he a fine man.Amidst the struggle of a factoring town, of poor conditions to workers, whom Margaret befriends and helps, and the heavy hand (and sometimes sneaky) of the masters, of talks of strikes and a lot of death (seriously, Mrs. Gaskell, was there need for so many?) there is a love story between these two. Not without its bumps (it couldn't be that simple, now, could it?), but it was fun to follow it, even if at times it broke my heart (poor, poor, Mr. Thornton).But back to the struggles of the poor. Even if in the case of the Higgins, Margaret's working friends, I prefer their TV counterparts (especially Bessie, who isn't so fervours in her religion on screen), I liked that part of the story. It was a look into the past, of the hardships of those who had to work in conditions that would undoubtedly kill them, and how the priorities of life were different from those of Margaret, for instance.There are, of course, a couple things on this book that I wish that would be different. First, towards the end, when Margaret leaves Milton, much of what happens there stops being told, and I kept wishing to know how those left behind fared. And second, the ending. Oh, it is a very good ending, that made me laugh. But could I please have another chapter? Just a tiny little one? Please? Because I want more!Summarizing (or not really): a very good book, a classic no doubt. I loved the writing (so much that I could only follow this book with another one of Mrs. Gaskell), and the story. Read this book, and watch the series. Both totally worth it.Also at Spoilers and Nuts
    • 4/5
      Victorian women's oppression is pretty harsh, and I was reminded of that just by the "conflict" between Margaret and Mr. Thornton. This is a good social novel, though. I mean, Germinal is far better, but if you like Victorian romance (which I think I don't, really) mixed in with your working class issues, it's pretty good. I guess I also didn't love the Christianity stuff either - Austen and Eliot, by comparison, tend not to talk about religion so much. But I really appreciate the depiction of class conflict and class differences in this book.
    • 3/5
      North and South was first published in 1854. As was common in those times, it was serialized in a magazine. The title refers to the contrast between the north of England, which is very industrial, and the wealthier, and more agricultural, south. Cultural differences and classism are seen through the eyes and experiences of the main character, Margaret Hale. As a young woman of 19, Margaret is transplanted to the north when her clergyman father decides to leave the church and pursue other employment. Margaret is accustomed to a life of relative leisure, and is thrust into an industrial town where textile mills drive the local economy.In the north Margaret comes in direct contact with poorer, lower classes -- who are typically laborers in the mills. She gains an understanding of working conditions and resulting health issues. She seems to move seamlessly between classes, simultaneously befriending a local laborer and his family, and a wealthy mill owner named John Thornton. Gaskell portrays the lower classes as hard-working, honest folk and the upper classes as haughty and insensitive. Towards the end of the novel Margaret finds herself again in the south, and it is clear her life in the north has changed her world view. She does not enjoy the parties and leisurely pace; in fact, she feels guilty about having these privileges when there are so many who struggle to meet basic needs.While North and South is an effective portrayal of Victorian England and class differences, the pace was a bit slow and the plot, predictable. While there is a romantic thread to the story, I did not care enough about the characters to be pulling for a happy ending. Sometimes when reading classics, I find it helpful to consult other sources to better understand the themes. But even that didn't help me much; in the end this book left me a bit flat.
    • 4/5
      This started slowly, but gained pace as the story progressed, as the characters gained depth. I loved the contrast between rich and poor that Gaskell describes so well. Margaret was a strong character, and was far from shallow, unlike some of her relations, and I liked the way she changed as a person over the course of the book. It reminded me a little of Pride and Prejudice and I loved the ending, even though I could see it coming!
    • 3/5
      This book is not as much fun as Gaskell's frothy Wives and Daughters. Instead, this is an almost Dickensian look at the problems industrialization in 19th Century Britain (along, of course, with the requisite romance).Nineteen-year-old Margaret Hale happily returns home from London to the idyllic southern village of Helstone after her cousin Edith marries Captain Lennox. She has been living for 10 years in the city with Edith and wealthy Aunt Shaw to learn to be a young lady, and has refused an offer of marriage from the captain's brother, Henry. Her life is turned upside down when her father, the local rector, leaves the Church of England and becomes a dissenter. He moves his wife and daughter to Milton-Northern (where Mr. Bell was born and owns property), an industrial town in Darkshire where workers and mill owners are clashing in the first organised strikes.Margaret finds the Milton dirty, harsh and strange, and is upset by the poverty of the mill workers.. Mr. Hale works as a tutor and one of his pupils is John Thornton, the owner of Marlborough Mills. From the outset, Margaret and Thornton are at odds with each other; she sees him as coarse and unfeeling, and he sees her as haughty. However, of course as the book progresses, they become attracted to each other.In the 18 months she spends in Milton Margaret learns to appreciate both the city and its hard-working people, especially Nicholas Higgins (a union representative) and his daughter Bessy, whom she befriends. Bessy is ill with byssinosis from inhaling cotton dust, which eventually kills her. At the same time, Margaret's mother is becoming sicker, and a workers' strike is brewing and teh mill owners import strike-breaking workers in from Ireland. The descriptions of the plight of the workers, the 'violence of the strike & the military's efforts to put the strike down are worthy of any of Dickens' novels.Unfortunately, then we are submitted to a ridiculous sub-plot of Margaret's older brother who has been living in exile in Spain because he is wanted for participating in a naval mutiny. He sneaks back into England to be at his mother's death bed, is confronted by someone who knows his crime at the railroad station and kills him. It takes the last third of the book to settle all the problems with this errant sibling before we can get to the requisite happy ending.
    • 4/5
      The heroine must move from her happy, rural parsonage home to an industrial city when her father, the parson, resigns his post due to doctrinal doubts. The novel then examines the intersections of class and religion and the relationships of labor and ownership. The novel includes an interesting plot and well-drawn characters. The questions of economics and theology that are raised are complex and interesting, I think even for a modern audience.
    • 5/5
      Great book, even better adaptation!
    • 5/5
      Brilliantly strong characters and strong social commentary. I admit that watching the BBC adaptation of it book has significantly contributed to my increased enjoyment, appreciation and love for the book the 2nd time around. (Having Richard Armitage's Mr. Thornton in mind...mmmm...)I'm continually amazed at Elizabeth Gaskell's realistic and deep portrayal of each main character. Even though I love them, each character has flaws which force me to pause and reflect that, despite those flaws, I still love, respect, or at least empathize with them.Aside from Margaret and Mr. Thornton, I'm particularly struck with Mrs. Thornton, in her fierce love for her son and her strength of character. What a mother! (And what a mother-in-law she would make!!) I must say that Mrs. Gaskell is now one of my favourite authors, on par with Jane Austen!
    • 4/5
      Margaret Hale's formative years have been spent as a companion to her wealthier cousin, Edith, in London's Harley Street. After Edith's wedding, Margaret returns to her parents' home in Helstone, where her father is the vicar. Very soon Rev. Hale has a crisis of conscience that drives him to give up his living and move the family to the industrial city of Milton, where he will work as a tutor. His most devoted student is manufacturer John Thornton, who, despite Margaret's haughty treatment of him and her disdain for the North and its capitalism, falls deeply in love with Margaret. Margaret's initial impressions of the North and its industry are gradually softened as she gets to know individuals like the working-class Bessie Higgins and her father, Nicholas.I had a hard time warming up to Margaret as a character. Her class consciousness and prejudices rubbed me the wrong way. It was infuriating that she was able to persuade so many of the other characters to do things against their better judgment. Why would reasonably intelligent adults allow themselves to be guided by an idealistic but ignorant teenager? Mr. Bell saved the book for me. His sharp wit brought a welcome breath of fresh air to an otherwise stuffy novel.
    • 4/5
      Margaret Hale, daughter of a country curate driven by a struggle of conscience into giving up his living and moving to a Northern manufacturing town where he takes on work as a tutor, features as the unusual heroine of this novel that combines aspects of a typical Victorian romance with a critique of the labor system of nineteenth century England. The story follows Margaret as she returns home from living with her well-to-do relatives only to learn of her father’s decision to relocate, a decision that has far-reaching consequences for all members of the family.Margaret is an atypical heroine in that, while she does take on all of the womanly duties expected of middle-class daughters at that time, she also comments, at least to herself, on how fatiguing they are, and the reader gets a distinct sense of the frequent unfairness of her position. In other such novels, the heroines are more likely to submit to these duties without a murmur, if they’re “good” characters, or complain unceasingly, if they’re “bad” characters. Margaret’s private weariness is much more believable and sympathetic, allowing the reader to understand her actions more clearly than is often the case. She also has her failings, some of which are very real, which is also less common in Victorian romances. All in all, she’s more real, and more alive, than your usual maidenly, pure, and unearthly Victorian protagonist.This is not to say that she doesn’t indulge in some preposterously moralistic speeches, because she most definitely does. Some of her little declarations regarding God and truth made me roll my eyes. Still, considering the era in which this was written, I allow for a certain amount of slack in such matters.For anyone who has read Austen, much will be familiar in this book. In some ways, the romance aspect of the book is very reminiscent of Pride and Prejudice, but with less dancing. Other parts, however, reminded me more of a less romanticized version of Dickens’s Hard Times, which I only recently read. The working class in this book is not kept belowstairs; in fact, at least one working class character is even invited in to tea with the old curate, a plot device that readers of Victorian class novels will notice with surprise. There were numerous discussions of why workers strike, what the living conditions of the working class were really like, and what kind of people the workers were. In that sense, this could also be called a social consciousness novel, as the reader is made to understand that these are subjects that the author has thought about often, and believes the reader should think upon as well.As a random novel, North and South succeeds as a reasonably interesting (if highly predictable) romance, and an interesting look at British class interactions during the nineteenth century. The strength of the novel, however, is that it combines those two usually (at that time) distinct areas, and does so in a way that doesn’t usually feel contrived. All too often the working classes and their problems are used only as a set piece against which the “important” (ie monied) characters act out their parts. Here, however, those working characters play an integral part in the action and are ultimately acknowledged as real people by at least some of the wealthier characters.Just as Austen’s books are interesting for their insights regarding the society that she inhabited, so too is this book worth reading for its insights into class relations during this era. Unfortunately, Gaskell’s skills as a writer, although solid, are not at Austens’ level, making this somewhat less enjoyable from a purely aesthetic standpoint. If it weren’t for the class observations so nicely intertwined with the romance and family analysis, this would be a fine if unremarkable book. The way that the plot is developed, however, makes this an excellent book for anyone interested in getting a less idealized version of what life might have been like for a middle-class woman in early nineteenth century England.
    • 4/5
      North and South is the story of Northern England during the Industrialization. The book centers around the Hale family--Rev., Margaret, and the Missus. Because Rev. Hale wouldn't agree to support the Book of Common Prayer he was let go from his parish and moves his family north where he takes up teaching. They meet Mr. Thornton, a misunderstood factory owner? Margaret and her family become sympathetic to the factory workers and the union. This is a very bleak book, much like those of Thomas Hardy's . There is the requisite happy ending, but it is not satisfying.There is just something "missing" from this book when compared to Hardy and Trollope who write of the same time period. 521 pages 3 1/2 stars
    • 4/5
      Like her contemporary Charles Dickens, Elizabeth Gaskell wanted to expose the human consequences of the Industrial Revolution. Where Dickens sought “to take the rooftops off” in Dombey and Son to show the disease and suffering caused by the relentless pursuit of the capitalist enterprise, in North and South, Gaskell focused on the response of one individual when confronted by poverty and suffering. The result is a blend of genres – a combination of Bildungsroman with Victorian industrial novel.Gaskell’s protagonist Margaret Hale is jolted out of her pastoral background when her vicar father leaves the Church in a crisis of conscience and moves the family north to the mill town of Milton (a psuedonym for Manchester). Margaret’s physical journey to this new region brings about an awakening about the poverty and suffering experienced by the mill workers. Her preconceived ideas about industry and trade, born from her experience of Southern ways, are gradually relinquished as she deepens her friendship with some of the worker families.She begins with an acute sense of class divisions and distaste of anyone involved in commerce.I don’t like shoppy people. I think we are far better off knowing only cottagers and labourers and people without pretence….. I like all people whose occupations have to do with land…But through her growing friendship with the vocal workers’ leader Nicholas Higgins and his gentle daughter Bessy, her sense of class is destabilised. Instead of the socially superior attitude with which she arrives at Milton, she begins to align herself with the workers, to challenge mill owner John Thornton about their conditions and to transgress the accepted boundaries of her class by speaking the language of the working class. Rebuked by her mother she retorts:If I live in a factory town, I must speak factory language when I want it..Her transgression is complete when she intervenes in a violent scene where she intervenes in a violent scene between John Thornton and a mass of striking workers. In using her body to shield him she steps out of the conventional private and domestic sphere for women, turning herself into an object for public scrutiny.It’s in the stormy relationship with Thornton, a self made man, that the book shows Gaskell’s concept of how individual feeling fused with social concern can become an agent for change. Margaret refuses to accept his explanations of the relationship between owners and workers which dehumanises the latter by the reductive term “hands”. Under Margaret’s influence and the collapse of his business Thornton learns to treat his workers as individuals and to adopt a more paternalistic attitude towards their welfare.Their exchanges are at times somewhat tedious (Dickens himself was very uneasy with some of the discussions), as are some conversations with Bessy Higgins as she lies dying from consumption and contemplates the afterlife. I found the use of dialect hard to digest also.But those are minor points of criticism and don’t distract from my feeling that this was an engaging book.
    • 4/5
      After watching the recent BBC adaptation, I knew I just had to read the book! There is a strong thread of integrity in the book. Mr Hale must stand by his convictions and leave the church, Mr Thornton is his own kind of Master, self made, but not willing to comprimise family or the livelyhood of his workers, Mrs Thornton is the strong matriach who will stand by her son through good times and bad, and Margaret believes that her integrity is blemished by a misunderstanding with Mr Thornton. There is also a knock against unlearned assumptions. When first arriving in Milton, Margaret has certain views about the North, which are changed as she gets to know some of the people, but these assumptions remain concreted in her Aunt Shaw and cousin Edith who destain the place and the people. Mr Bell's humerous dialogue is a treat!
    • 5/5
      Think Pride and Prejudice is as good as it gets? Think you can't dream up a better romantic hero than Mr. Darcy? Wrong!Immediately read this, and understand why I would prefer Mr. Thornton over cranky Mr. Darcy any day of the week. He is a gentleman through and through, and his never-ceasing kindnesses toward Margaret should be enough to make anyone fall in love with his character.Also, being able to picture him as Richard Armitage (as in the BBC production of this story) doesn't hurt.Austen is better at the witty social commentary, I'll give her that. But, to replace that, Gaskell adds in a dash of Charles Dickens in her portrayal of the battle between the mill owners and the working class. It adds a real depth and interest to the story.Mr. Thornton is a manager of a mill, and even though Margaret Hale is involved with his family socially, she becomes close to the working family of Nicholas Higgins. She sees both sides of the ongoing struggle and eventual strike, and her views change quite a bit as she matures and the book progresses. For that matter, so do Mr. Thornton's.When you pick up this book, you will quickly become wrapped up in the story. The class struggles will engage you just as quickly as the Margaret/Thornton interactions. Although many people disagree with me that it beats Pride & Prejudice, there is still something for everyone to be found in the plot!
    • 5/5
      Fantastic. Huge Elizabeth Gaskell fan. As an immigrant to the UK, it gave me a lot of insight into the socio-cultural-political history of England. Also a thread of feminism throughout.
    • 5/5
      Beneath Gaskell's social, moral and industrial blathering, beats the heart of a powerful romance; or at least, beat the hearts of two of the most romantic characters I have encountered in a while. Margaret Hale is at first arrogant and patronising, but matures into a wilful, noble heroine who must bear an almost gothic period of mourning in an incredibly brief time. Arriving from the indolent, gentle South, after her rather pathetic father suffers a crisis of confidence, Margaret immediately forms a prejudice against the hectic and polluted 'North', with its 'dark satanic mills', and professes an active hatred for the scruffy, uncouth plebs who dwell there. The fact that she is merely the daughter of 'gentleman' without means doesn't seem to alter her perspective. As one character says, 'she seems to have a notion of giving herself airs; I can't think why'.But Margaret is young, and sheltered from reality, and the daughter of a delicate lady who married beneath her 'station'; if it is possible to endure the first few chapters in the mellow Hampshire village of 'Helstone', the reward comes when Margaret is toppled from her self-styled pedestal, by circumstance and familial bonds, and grows almost beyond recognition from a shallow, snobbish girl into a humble, generous, if shattered, woman. I went from feeling irritation to admiration, and finally finding Margaret - as is Mrs Gaskell's intention, no doubt - worthy of Mr Thornton's love.Which leads me onto a hero who, in strength, pride, passion and sheer devotion, is more than a match for any Rochester or Darcy. John Thornton. I fell so much in love with the self-made master from 'Milton' (or Manchester) that the chapter where he visits the ailing Mrs Hale with a gift of fresh fruit, soon after Margaret's rejection of his heartfelt proposal, almost had me snivelling on the bus to work! He is absolutely fascinating, almost 'two chaps in one body', as Higgins describes him - the strong, silent millowner facing striking workers with grim determination, but also the loving son, who pulled himself and his family up after the suicide of his father, to make a name and a fortune for himself, yet who isn't too proud to seek a cultured polish to his lacking education and deal with the 'common man' as an equal. The charged dialogue - and silent gestures - between Mr Thornton and Margaret are far more erotic than any love scene (and these two only manage one kiss in the whole book!) John Thornton is now one of my favourite literary heroes, but it's because of his love for Margaret - from their first proper meeting, when he watches with rapt attention how she fidgets with a loose bracelet, to the brave, almost painful moment when he declares how he feels. These two are drawn, and belong, together, which is the true mark of soulmates in fiction.The only failing I found with this novel is the ending - for me, the climax is to be found early on in chapter 24, after which the tension slowly dissipates among grand speeches and prolonged misunderstandings. Although I could appreciate Margaret's love for her brother, and the gloomy landscape Mrs Gaskell paints of 'Darkshire' (or Lancashire), all that really holds this story together is the attraction of opposites between Margaret and John. I enjoyed reading every scene with him, and found Margaret an inspiring Victorian heroine (once she grew up), but the thrill was in the chase. I was gripped through every chapter, abandoning another book to concentrate on this story, and savouring both historical fact and dramatic device - only to disappointed by the standard 'reversal of fortune' in the final pages. Why must a strong hero be brought down before the heroine is permitted to return his love? Wouldn't the union of two equal partners, in status and personality, be more exciting than the powerful woman stooping to raise up her man? I can understand why Gaskell and other female authors might have been tempted to redress certain social inequalities of the Victorian era in their writing, but John Thornton deserves more than the same old treatment. The long-awaited resolution between John and Margaret makes me wish that someone would write a sequel, however lacking, for this novel, but their playful words also seem rushed. Mrs Gaskell was apparently under pressure to complete her story, and I share what must have been her frustration at the result.Engrossing, educational, evocative; witty in places (especially droll Mr Bell), and bitter in parts, 'North and South' is a novel of changing moods and times. Recommended.
    • 4/5
      When her father has a crisis of faith and leaves his position as a parish priest in the lush community of Helstone in southern England, Margaret Hale finds herself transplanted to the strangely foreign community of Milton in northern England. In this bustling, industrial town, Margaret encounters the rough and striving John Thornton, a local mill owner, with whom she regularly clashes. In Milton, Margaret develops a greater awareness of the social injustices between the owners of industry and their workers and also discovers that there may be more to her relationship with Mr. Thornton than either of them ever expected.Gaskell's novel is a fascinating combination of Victorian romance and a contemporary exploration of the social upheavals that came along with the Industrial Revolution. Margaret and Mr. Thornton are both well-drawn characters each with a realistic combination of virtues and flaws. Watching their clashes and growing realization of their feelings is a delight. Interspersed is a narrative exploring the conflict, so associated with the Industrial Revolution, between the labourers and their employers. While Gaskell's views are unlikely to gibe with modern sensibilities, in Nicholas Higgins she creates a character that moves beyond caricature of the lower class and imbues him with emotion, intelligence, and ultimately makes him a sympathetic figure. A great read whether the politics, the romance, or both are of most interest.
    • 3/5
      Doesn't deserve its classic status. Plodding for the first three quarters, long and superficial discussions on capital vs labour, Victorian melodrama and morality (without the characterisation or otherworldliness of Jane Eyre, for example). Even by Victorian standards, the wasting sicknesses, tragic deaths and agonising over propriety are overdone. A cpouple of moments from the last pages made me laugh out loud: "glowing with beautiful shame" and "Don't mock my own deep feeling of unworthiness [with your own!]". The denouement did absorb me, but after 450 pages of investment maybe that's not surprising! There are flourishes of insight too; Mr Bell - and the desperately needed wit and humour he injects - could have been introduced earlier and played a larger role.
    • 5/5
      Holy mackerel, this is good. I expected it to be Austen-ish (and I do love Pride and Prejudice), but if P&P is cotton candy, this is... some other delicious, yet way more nutrient-dense food. Gaskell takes us out of the drawing room and into the streets. Set in the industrial north of England, she gives us strikes, riots, poverty, wealth (new and old), economic debates, religious debates, and some surprisingly modern-feeling observations about psychology. And still, a fully characterized hero and heroine in Mr. Thornton and Margaret Hale. Mr. Thornton, especially. He may have displaced Mr. Darcy at the top of my List of Dreamy Fictional Men. Highly, highly recommended. 
    • 4/5
      Enjoyed except for the abrupt ending.
    • 4/5
      Liked it--didn't love itThe only things I knew about Elizabeth Gaskell was that she was Charlotte Bronte's close friend (she even laid Charlotte out to be buried) and that she was one of the few women Victorian novelist who had what might be called a "normal" life. It ws a refreshing change to get away from Home Counties drama , but I can't help comparing Gaskell to George Eliot--which is unfair of me, I know. Nobody else is George Eliot, either. Margaret was a great snotty heroine, and I loved John Thorton's mother. (No spoiler here--wow--is Margaret going to have problems later!) but John himself wasn't that interesting. The details about life in the mills were more fascinating than the hero. This is a problem, no? My biggest complaints--way too many deaths even for a novel of this era and the minor characters had an irritating habit of ruminating about Margaret. I can't stand it when an author is so heavy handed in telling the reader what to think. Still a worthy read. I look forward to the mini-series.This was the first book I read on an e-reader--courtesy of "Beam it Down" and my iouch--it did take a while to adjust to the automatic scroll but then I enjoyed reading one-handed.
    • 2/5
      I’m sitting here making an undecided facial expression and smacking my lips somewhat like after I do make when I’ve eaten something that doesn’t taste bad exactly, but it’s certainly nothing I would try again and I feel like my tongue has been coated unpleasantly so that I get to continue to taste it until I brush my teeth. Yeah, that’s how I feel about this book.

      In fairness, I should disclose that I went into this reading adventure with some fairly high expectations because so many Jane Austen fans recommended her so whole heartedly. In fact, they were well nigh as intrigued with Ms. Gaskell’s characterizations as they were with Ms. Austen’s. It has stellar ratings on Goodreads. And I feel beyond let down.

      A word about Ms. Gaskell: I was told she was a contemporary of Austen, perhaps on the later end of Austen’s writings. She is not. Elizabeth Gaskell was actually a contemporary of Dickens and contributed many short stories to a circular that Dickens published. And there’s the rub. I hate Dickens. I do. Just. Simply. Hate. Dickens. She also wrote a biography of Charlotte Bronte. I hate Bronte. Either one. Simply. Hate. Bronte. It’s all so dismal and dreary. Don’t get me wrong, I love a good “humanity sucks and should be wiped out” story as much as the next person, but I’ve always felt that Dickens-esque novels were too heavy-handed and ended up focusing on part of a story that I never found that interesting.

      North and South was long: 400 some-odd small print, larger pages. It was extra hefty on description and meticulously written dialogue with Northern Englanders accent. I actually almost gave up on it out of sheer boredom at around 40 pages. As it was the only book I had with me on the train to and from work, I kept reading another 5 or so pages, and to its credit, it did become more interesting. But for a book that is about social class divisions and the struggles within each group to understand the lot of the other, it was decisively shallow. I felt like many of the “key” scenes were simply too contrived. There is no reason for Mr. Thornton, the male protagonist, to fall head over heals with Miss Hale, the female protagonist. They meet and instantly dislike one another, but, in my opinion, Glaskell is never able to convince me why their feelings change for one another. The author’s contrivance to move Mr. Thornton’s heart is really only a moment where Miss Hale (bravely but mostly stupidly) puts her body between Mr. Thornton and a bunch of rioters to protect him. Really? Hunh? At some point she throws herself at him still to “protect” him and the author has Thornton reflecting much on the feel of her against him. So his hatred for her “superior” ways all vanish in a cloud of smoke over a little lust? Isn’t there a town harlot for that?

      Much later, of course only after making Miss Hale an heiress, and conveniently, an heiress over the very property upon which Mr. Thornton works and lives, Miss Hale realizes that he is all that is good in a man. I’m not certain why this change of heart because the author never tells us. It is true that Mr. Thornton does make great personal strides as a human being learning to understand the plight of others. But that she should decide she loves him on that alone seems, well, wholly unconvincing.

      I actually had to re-read the last couple of chapters to make sure that I didn’t miss anything because one moment they are without any contact for a few years and the next he sees her in London and kisses her. I was convinced that my book must have been missing a few pages, but no, it just ended quickly. And that is one of my greatest pet peeves: rambling on and on and freaking on only to end the story without properly tying up your loose ends or making the tying up believable. I feel betrayed as a reader who invested my time to slog through your unnecessary detail.

      The long and the short of it is that I ought to have stopped 40 pages in when I originally thought to give up. Why do people like this story? Two thumbs down.
    • 4/5
      When Margaret Hale moves with her father from the comfort of the south of England to the industrial north, she is at first repulsed by what she sees; and then when she discovers the conditions under which the workers are forced to live, she is outraged. But this throws her into direct conflict with the powerful young mill-owner, John Thornton. Using personal passions to explore deep social divisions, North and South is a great romance – and one of Elizabeth Gaskell’s finest works. Summary Naxox Audiobooks.I listened to both the abridged (read by Jenny Agutter) and unabridged (read by Clare Wille) versions of the novel over the course of several weeks. The abridged version lacks the complexity of the complete story; I don't recommend it.The BBC mini-series of the novel starring Richard Armitage and Daniela Denby-Ashe was by and large faithful to the content and intent of the original piece and led me to seek out the novel. NORTH AND SOUTH was an important work for northern England, for the new age of the "tradesman" and "merchant" class, and for the importance of the commercial activity it fostered.Hard to believe NORTH AND SOUTH was published in 1855, a mere six years after JANE EYRE. The political and philosophical concepts it describes seem decades more modern than Ms Bronte's gothic, and let's face it, rather self-centred, tale. I contrast the two famous authors, because (if you read my blog you'll know this) a connection between the two already exists in their friendship with each other and in that Mrs. Gaskell was Charlotte Bronte's first official biographer. Even compared to Dickens, NORTH AND SOUTH seems less freighted with sentimentality, caricature and Victorian morality.I believe the romance in Ms Gaskell's story could be read as an Industrial Revolution translation of PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. I particularly enjoyed the way Mrs. Gaskell contrasts the mores of Mr. and Mrs. Hale with the younger couple, Margaret Hale and John Thornton, who prove themselves open to the social upheaval of their times.9 out of 10 Highly recommended to readers of fine English literature, political and historical fiction.
    • 4/5
      One of my favorite reads of the new year! I really enjoyed the love story between Margaret and Mr. Thorton but also enjoyed reading about the industrialization of northern England.
    • 5/5
      This is an excellent novel. I try not to read too much about a book before I read it because I want to be surprised by everything. So, if you're like me and reading this I'll tell you this: Just read it. Don't expect action packed and mysterious. If you enjoy a nice leisurely stroll through a story of love developing out of nowhere, a girl growing up and changing, then you'll enjoy this.
    • 4/5
      Probably the only other book where I enjoyed the film version more than I did the actual novel. I liked this novel much more than I liked “Practical Magic” (see above), and I think the reason I liked the mini-series produced of this book so much more than the book itself is because there are so many things that can be read into a look and a glance and you can’t see that in the novel -- especially a novel where the story is told in a kind of first person omniscient, not first person directly, but it only follows one person’s view at a time, in a way, so you don’t really get that intensity in Mr. Thornton’s expression on the page even though it’s described adequately enough. I do like that the mini-series stuck to the book very faithfully (with only a few understandable distinctions), but all the main aspects of the book was there in the mini-series. The one change that they made that I wish had been in the book was with the character of Bessie. She was a much stronger character in the mini-series, I thought.
    • 5/5
      A very satisfying novel. The heroine's father is an English vicar who gives up his living because of religious doubts and moves his family north to a fictionalized version of Manchester at the time of the industrial revolution. The relationship between the heroine and a prosperous mill owner reminded me of Pride and Prejudice.
    • 3/5
      Being a classic I had high hopes for this one, but was dissapointed that I really couldnt get too excited for the heroine or the storyline. It was intriguing seeing the differences between classes and the dialouge between the labor union and the employers. Overall I am glad I read it but would be hard to pick it up soon for a second read.
    • 5/5
      Why has it taken me so long to read an Elizabeth Gaskell novel? North and South is an excellent book with well-drawn characters, themes of class and religion, and a love story, too. I was initially reminded of Jane Austen (always a favorite), but as the novel progressed these themes were explored on a broader, more worldly scale. Also, although Gaskell was writing only several decades later than Austen, I was surprised to find her language much more accessible.

      This was a combination read/listen for me. Juliet Stevenson's narration was nothing short of perfection.
      Very highly recommended
      4.5/5 stars
    • 5/5
      A socialist tract, a paean to capitalism, a Victorian love story, a bildungsroman, or a realist portrayal of life in mid nineteenth century industrial England. This very wonderful novel is all of these things; what it is not is a novel about the divide between the North and the South, but this title was suggested by Charles Dickens whose own novel Hard Times had just been published. Hard Times a novel also concerned with working conditions was not one of Dickens's greatest achievements and lacked the breadth of vision that Mrs Gaskell achieved with North and South.Mrs Gaskell's original title was Margaret Hale and her novel charts Margaret's course from a well born but impoverished parson's daughter to an heiress and part owner of a large textile mill. The novel opens with Margaret staying with her wealthy cousins in London, but after her cousins marriage she rejoins her parent at Helstone a hamlet in the New Forest. She loves the gentle country life, but the family faces a major change when her father must give up his parish over religious scruples and opts to move to Milton (Manchester) the centre of the cotton industry, where he will eek out a living as a tutor. The family find Milton noisy, ugly, dirty and crowded but Margaret is determined to make the best of it for her parents sake. She makes friends with the Higgens family: mill workers and trade unionists while her father becomes a tutor to Mr Thornton a mill owner and captain of industry. Mr Thornton falls in love with Margaret but she is repelled by his hard commercialism and rejects his marriage proposal. The novel charts the bildungsroman of both Margaret and Mr Thornton which must happen before they can reach any kind of accommodation.The reader of course recognises their suitability and similarity and the outcome to their possible relationship is only revealed on the last page of the novel. Here is Mr Thornton's view of Margaret when he first sees her in some rented rooms:"but now that he saw Margaret, with her superb ways of moving and looking, he began to feel ashamed of having imagined that it would do very well for the Hales.....Margaret could not help her looks, but the short curled upper lip the round, massive upturned chin, the manner of carrying her head; her movements full of soft feminine defiance always gave strangers the impression of haughtiness"And this is Margaret's view of Mr Thornton when she sees him at dinner talking to his colleague Mill Owners:"some dispute arose, which was warmly contested, it was referred to Mr Thornton who had hardly spoken before, but who now gave an opinion, the grounds of which were so clearly stated that even the opponents yielded. Margaret's attention was called to her host; his whole manner as master of the house, as entertainer of his friends was so straightforward, simple and modest as to be thoroughly dignified. Margaret thought she had never seen him to so much advantage".Margaret's friendship with the Higgens family which has allowed her to see the suffering of the mill workers at first hand has driven a wedge between her and Thornton:"Margaret's whole soul rose up against him while he reasoned in this way as if commerce were everything and humanity nothing"The battle between commerce and humanity, capital and labour is fought out in the factories and mills of Milton and the rhetoric used then is just as relevant as it was in the 1980's when Britain's industry was reshaped under Thatcher's government. Mrs Gaskell guides the reader to a more humanitarian view; the fight between the masters and the men could be ameliorated if only they would take note of what each was saying. Both their livelihoods depend on the success of the industry and if they could find ways of working together then surely it would be to everyone's benefit. This is skillfully reflected in the battle of wills between Margaret and Mr Thornton whose own love story is brilliantly woven into the fabric of the events on the industrial battle ground.The struggle between the masters and the men is a titanic struggle for power and the hard headed Thornton sets himself against Higgens who becomes a sort of working class hero. Gaskell refuses to take sides as she ensures that both viewpoints are given equal weight. Higgens and Thornton are both proud men but are also honorable men and it is through Margaret's friendship with both of them that at last a dialogue can begin. Mrs Gaskell has Higgens speak in the local dialect which highlights the differences between him and the mill owners but also between him and the Hales family. It is superbly done.Milton is brought to vibrant life through Margaret's eyes and becomes almost another character in the novel. The smoke and the grime, the rough streets the workers pouring out of the factories at certain times of the day catching Margaret unawares and always ready with some witty comment about the way she looks. Mr Thornton's house is situated opposite his mill inside the factory gates, a large courtyard and a flight of steps is all that separates him from his work. Margaret and her family are horrified by the noise and the industry when they first visit. Change is the motif that runs throughout this novel. The vibrant trade capital of Milton is constantly changing and at a rapid pace. To succeed in their ventures then the attitudes of the mill owners must change as must the trade unionists. Margaret must adapt to her new situation and Mr Thonton must change his way of thinking if he wants to win Margaret. The people who cannot change must make way and there are plenty of deaths, most of which have repercussions for Margaret. Both her parents die, Bessy Higgens finally succumbs to her terminal illness contracted whilst working in the mills. Mr Bell the Oxford friend of Mr Hale must also depart as his refuge in academia does not fit him for the new commercial world. Margaret's strength of character enables her to deal with all that life throws at her and although she bends she does not break and her experiences in Milton only serve to make her stronger. Mrs Gaskell's achievement in bringing off this novel should be admired by every reader. The avoidance of sentimentality, her refusal to take sides, her realistic portrayal of industrial conflict and the brilliant characters that people her book all add up to a wonderful reading experience.

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    North and South (with an Introduction by Adolphus William Ward) - Elizabeth Gaskell

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    NORTH AND SOUTH

    By ELIZABETH GASKELL

    Introduction by ADOLPHUS WILLIAM WARD

    North and South

    By Elizabeth Gaskell

    Introduction by Adolphus William Ward

    Print ISBN 13: 978-1-4209-5178-3

    eBook ISBN 13: 978-1-4209-5179-0

    This edition copyright © 2015. Digireads.com Publishing.

    All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

    Cover Image: Manchester from Kersal Moor, 1852 (w/c with bodycolour and gum arabic on paper), Wyld, William (1806-89) / Royal Collection Trust © Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II, 2015 / Bridgeman Images.

    Please visit www.digireads.com

    CONTENTS

    Introduction

    Preface to Original Edition

    Chapter I. ‘Haste to the Wedding’

    Chapter II. Roses and Thorns

    Chapter III. ‘The More Haste the Worse Speed’

    Chapter IV. Doubts and Difficulties

    Chapter V. Decision

    Chapter VI. Farewell

    Chapter VII. New Scenes and Faces

    Chapter VIII. Home Sickness

    Chapter IX. Dressing For Tea

    Chapter X. Wrought Iron and Gold

    Chapter XI. First Impressions

    Chapter XII. Morning Calls

    Chapter XIII. A Soft Breeze in a Sultry Place

    Chapter XIV. The Mutiny

    Chapter XV. Masters and Men

    Chapter XVI. The Shadow Of Death

    Chapter XVII. What Is A Strike?

    Chapter XVIII. Likes and Dislikes

    Chapter XIX. Angel Visits

    Chapter XX. Men and Gentlemen

    Chapter XXI. The Dark Night

    Chapter XXII. A Blow and Its Consequences

    Chapter XXIII. Mistakes

    Chapter XXIV. Mistakes Cleared Up

    Chapter XXV. Frederick

    Chapter XXVI. Mother and Son

    Chapter XXVII. Fruit-Piece

    Chapter XXVIII. Comfort in Sorrow

    Chapter XXIX. A Ray of Sunshine

    Chapter XXX. Home at Last

    Chapter XXXI. ‘Should Auld Acquaintance Be Forgot?’

    Chapter XXXII. Mischances

    Chapter XXXIII. Peace

    Chapter XXXIV. False and True

    Chapter XXXV. Expiation

    Chapter XXXVI. Union Not Always Strength

    Chapter XXXVII. Looking South

    Chapter XXXVIII. Promises Fulfilled

    Chapter XXXIX. Making Friends

    Chapter XL. Out of Tune

    Chapter XLI. The Journey’s End

    Chapter XLII. Alone! Alone!

    Chapter XLIII. Margaret’s Flittin’

    Chapter XLIV. Ease Not Peace

    Chapter XLV. Not All a Dream

    Chapter XLVI. Once and Now

    Chapter XLVII. Something Wanting

    Chapter XLVIII. ‘Ne’er To Be Found Again’

    Chapter XLIX. Breathing Tranquillity

    Chapter L. Changes at Milton

    Chapter LI. Meeting Again

    Chapter LII. ‘Pack Clouds Away’

    BIOGRAPHICAL AFTERWORD

    Introduction

    North and South has always seemed to me, and seems to me more than ever after a careful reperusal, one of the finest of modern English fictions. Like the great statue of the famous Florentine, it was cast, head and foot, in a single piece—all the metal flowing in from the same fire. Human kindness, the sympathetic sense of contrasts in which resides the essence of true humor, and the burning passion of love—all these, with much else, contributed to the current. And yet, so it chanced, the novel was the first which its authoress wrote bit by bit; just as, by a curious coincidence, Dickens’ Hard Times, which preceded Mrs. Gaskell’s story in the same periodical, and which presents other points of contact with its successor, was the first story ever brought out by him in weekly instalments. It is well known that the inconveniences of the experiment, to which Mrs. Gaskell bears testimony in the Prefatory Note to the original edition, were, according to his wont, stated by Dickens in the most emphatic of terms. The difficulty of the space, he wrote, after a few weeks’ trial, is CRUSHING. Nobody can have an idea of it who has not had an experience of patient fiction-writing with some elbow-room always, and open places in perspective. In this form, with every kind of regard to the current number, there is no such thing. North and South first came out in Household Words, where it appeared in the numbers extending from September 2, 1854, to January 27, 1855. It was first published as a complete work (by Messrs. Chapman and Hall), in two volumes, in 1855, and went through many subsequent editions. A French translation of it, by Mmes. Loreau and H. de l’Espigne, was published in 1859, and, in a second edition, in 1865.

    Although it was Sylvia’s Lovers—a work of later date—which Mrs. Gaskell chose for dedication to her husband, he can hardly have taken a deeper interest in any of her books than that with which he watched, and furthered, the production, first of Mary Barton, and then of North and South. Mr. Gaskell’s heart, like his wife’s, was, as has been seen, with the people among whom they dwelt; and the best of his remarkable powers were given to his ministerial work in Lancashire—the sphere of his life’s labours, though not, strictly speaking, his native county. As was written of him after his death by one who had long looked up to him as a teacher of literature, much as he liked Nature and everything that was beautiful in scenery and in art, he was most at home in cities, where he could see and study, and love and guide, the men and women with whom he came into contact. He watched and noted the thoughts and feelings of the Darkshire folk as closely as he traced their ways and forms of speech. It was in 1854, the year in which the publication of North and South opened, that he brought out his two Lectures on the Lancashire Dialect, which were in the same year appended to the fifth edition of Mary Barton. He must at the same time have been pursuing his favorite study of German poetry—and hymnology in particular—among whose fruits were the translations contributed by him to Miss Catherine Winkworth’s Lyra Germanica, of which the first series appeared in 1858. Reminiscences of this study seem to have found their way into one or two of the mottoes prefixed to the chapters of noblest instincts, so too the conditions of the national life North and South, which are borrowed from Mr. Gaskell’s favourites, Rückert, Uhland, and Kosegarten.

    In North and South may easily be traced the effects of a perfect union of tastes as well as of affections, which made the companionship of her husband and daughters the greatest happiness of Mrs. Gaskell’s life, and helped to mature in her the knowledge of men’s and women’s hearts—the supreme gift of the writer who undertakes to interpret to others the best, though they may not be the least common, experiences of human life. This book has much to tell of sorrow and suffering; and Miss Edgeworth, had she lived to criticize it, might have been excused for complaining of the number of its death-beds—including those of Mrs. Hale and Mr. Hale, Mr. Bell, Margaret’s generous guardian, and Bessy, her humble friend and admirer. Yet the work is, notwithstanding, the product of a happy mind in a happy mood—and at times this happiness finds expression in passages radiant with beauty, and glorious as testifying to the service of Love the Conqueror. Thus. the force and charm of the personal sentiment with which the story is instinct correspond to what may be called its chief purpose (since a novel with a purpose it remains)—the endeavour to commend reconciliation through sympathy; and this is the solution applied by it to the problems suggested by the nature of the plot and the course of the story.

    Most prominent among these problems—though, as will be seen, most felicitously mingled and interfused with difficulties or contrasts of a wholly uncontroversial sort—is the national question as to the relations between masters and men, and the whole social condition of the manufacturing population, to which, in North and South, the authoress of Mary Barton once more addressed herself. If she had in the meantime grown older, calmer—and why should we not say wiser?—without becoming untrue to herself and her which affected this question had undergone an unmistakable modification. During the six years, or thereabouts, which passed between the writing of Mary Barton and that of North and South, a change had come over the movement for advancing and improving the condition of the working population, more especially in the manufacturing districts of Lancashire and other parts of the North.

    In the first place, few movements involving the interests and affecting the sentiments of large classes of the population are able to escape the common fate of being followed by periods of reaction. The triumph of the agitation against the Corn Laws, which went to the very root of the sufferings of the working-classes, had been complete; and the philanthropic activity of Lord Ashley, and of those who acted with him, had since his return to Parliament in 1847 been chiefly directed to matters of a less controversial character than the practices of the factories and the pits. Moreover, about this time the condition of the Irish population, which went on rapidly from worse to worse, had begun to absorb a large share of attention and munificence. Finally, the revolutionary movements, which shook the Continent of Europe in the years 1848 and 1849, though they left England virtually unaffected, could not but leave behind them in a large part of English society a mingled sense of repugnance and relief. After the failure of the Chartist demonstration in London of April, 1848, the cause which it had intended to advance seemed for many years dead in this country; the Chartist conference held in Manchester early in 1851 was attended by the representatives of not more than four localities; nor was it till 1855 that another attempt was made in the same town to revive the agitation. In general, although notwithstanding the gradual collapse of the Whig Government there was no question of any permanent acceptance by the nation of a Conservative policy, still less of any return to Protectionist principles, yet a period of compromise and tranquillity was at hand in home affairs and internal legislation, which covered both the building of the temple of peace in 1851 and the opening of the gates of war in 1854. Finally, it must not be overlooked that in the manufacturing districts during these years the employed had become more accustomed to, and more expert in, the use of their readiest and most effective weapon of offence, as well as of defence, against their employers; and that strikes (though none seems to have been attempted on a large scale in Manchester between 1848 and 1854) were becoming more frequent in the manufacturing districts at large.

    The reaction to which the above and other contemporary causes contributed could not but exercise an influence upon that group of English writers of prose-fiction who had shown so genuine and so special an interest in the condition of our working-classes; who had insisted so strongly on the justice as well as on the expediency of hearing both sides of the questions at issue; and who, whether from a national, a humanitarian, or a Christian point of view, had pleaded that justice should be done to the needs of the employed not less than to the claims of the employers, and that masters and men should meet each other as friends, not as foes.

    It so happened that early in the year 1854 Dickens and Mrs. Gaskell, with whom his literary relations had of late been so intimate, each set out upon the composition of a story of which the scene was to be laid in the manufacturing districts, and which, under whatever conditions, could not fail to address itself to the perennial question of the relations between capital and labour—or, better perhaps, for much is involved in the choice of phrase, of the relations between masters and men. Dickens, though his wondrous activity of mind, his breadth of human sympathy, and his hatred of social injustice, could not but excite in him an interest in the manufacturing districts and their population—to which, as in The Chimes and The Old Curiosity Shop, he had already given expression more passionate than convincing—possessed no intimate knowledge either of the North or of the manufacturing classes in general; indeed, neither his upbringing, nor his experience (except incidentally)—nor again, his reading and his tastes—had brought him into close contact with this particular class of our population. In this year, 1854, when he was revolving the story Hard Times, which was (though somewhat late) to present the full deliverance of his mind on the condition of our manufacturing districts, he traveled to Preston, where at the time there was a strike, to catch what he could of the spirit of the conflict, and of its influence upon those concerned in it. But he was much disappointed with what he saw, or rather with what he did not see; and, having ascertained that the people sit at home and mope, went off himself to witness an indifferent performance of Hamlet at the theatre. Even genius cannot satisfactorily report or reproduce what it only imperfectly understands. Dickens’ intuitive perception of this truth will not be held to derogate from the characteristic candor and generosity of a passage in a letter which, four months later, he addressed to Mrs. Gaskell, with the general design of whose new story he must by this time have become acquainted:

    I have no intention of striking. The monstrous claims at diminution made by a certain class of manufacturers, and the extent to which the way is made easy for working-men to slide down into discontent under such hands, are within my scheme; but I am not going to strike, so don’t be afraid of me. But I wish you would look at the story yourself, and judge where and how near I seem to be approaching what you have in your mind. The first two months of it will show that.

    While, from the nature of the case, the publication of the successive portions of Hard Times, which appeared in Household Words from April 1 to August 12, 1854, could not have exercised any but a quite incidental influence upon the composition of Mrs. Gaskell’s story, internal evidence shows the latter to have been written in absolute independence of Dickens’ work. Thus, while it would be impertinent to offer here any general criticism of what can hardly be described as the earlier of the two works except by reason of their dates of publication, even a comparison between the pair seems superfluous. Yet the almost simultaneous treatment, by two eminent writers in close mutual touch, of themes which, though not identical, in many respects cover each other, is something more than a curiosity in literary history, and should not be lost sight of by critics desirous of applying a comparative treatment. Is it going too far to say that in Hard Times Dickens, whose creative power had then only just passed its zenith, sought to illustrate social conceptions fervently cherished by him by means of types drawn only in part from spheres within his own intimate knowledge; while Mrs. Gaskell sought to harmonize personal and social contrasts in conditions of life that came home to her with an intimate and familiar force? However this may have been—and we may be sure that no such conclusions were tried by her with her great friend—nothing could have been more delightful, and nothing more magnanimous, than the spirit in which Dickens applauded every stage in the progress of a story which he welcomed as an ornament, not only to his journal, but to the literature of English fiction. As far back as May 3, 1853, when he must have been revolving in his mind the first notions of the story for which out of a wealth of proposed titles he at last selected the name of Hard Times, he wrote to her as to the subject, doubtless communicated to him in general terms, of her proposed story:

    "The subject is certainly not too serious, so sensibly treated. I have no doubt that you may do a great deal of good by pursuing it in ‘Household Words.’ I thoroughly agree in all you say in your note. I have similar reasons for giving it some anxious consideration, and shall be greatly interested in it. Pray decide to do it. I am sure you may rely on being widely understood and sympathized with."

    A month later he had the first portion of the story in his hands, and wrote back with cordial warmth:

    I have read the MS. you have had the kindness to send me, with all possible attention and care. I have shut myself up for the purpose, and allowed nothing to divide my thoughts. It opens an admirable story, is full of character and power, has a strong suspended interest in it (the end of which I don’t in the least foresee), and has the very best marks of your hand upon it. If I had more to read, I certainly could not have stopped, but must have read on.

    And, in July, when Mrs. Gaskell appears to have consulted him as to the name of her story, he, instead of preferring a title which would have obscured any suggestion of a competition with his own story, unhesitatingly advised:

    "North and South appears to me to be a better name than Margaret Hale. It implies more, and is expressive of the opposite people brought face to face in the story."

    And, finally, in January, 1855, when the last installment of the story had reached him, he wrote:

    Let me congratulate you on the conclusion of your story: not because it is the end of a task to which you had [no doubt because of the special conditions of publication] conceived a dislike (for I imagine you to have got the better of that delusion by this time), but because it is the vigorous and powerful accomplishment of an anxious labour. It seems to me you have felt the ground thoroughly firm under your feet, and have strided on with a force and purpose that must now give you pleasure. I shall still look forward to the large sides of paper, and shall soon feel disappointed if they don’t begin to reappear.

    The scheme (to borrow Dickens’ word) of Mrs. Gaskell’s own story no doubt conformed itself to a wish, which may have been only half conscious though at the same time most genuine on her part, to find an opportunity for rectifying whatever misapprehensions might have arisen as to the real purpose—for purpose there had been—with which she had written Mary Barton. Yet her object in sending forth North and South to take its place by the side of her early masterpiece was by no means, as has been at times loosely suggested, to balance her previous advocacy of the claims of one class by showing what was to be said in favor of the other. Beyond a doubt, she desired to assert her sincere wish to be fair to both masters and men; and in North and South she succeeded better in the endeavor than she had in Mary Barton. The tones of her censor-in-general themselves were hushed into accents of the most complacent, if still self-controlled, satisfaction.

    It is, wrote Mr. W. R. Greg, "no compliment to say that your book has been my constant companion since I saw you; I only finished it last night. But I have been in society every day, and could only snatch time for a chapter before going to bed at night. Last night, however, I was home early and resolved upon a treat; so sat up till 1 o’clock, and came to an end, and was sorry when I had done it. I find no fault in it, which is a great deal for a critic to say, seeing that one inevitably gets the habit of reading in a somewhat critical spirit. I do not think it as thorough a work of genius as Mary Barton—nor the subject as interesting as Ruth—but I like it better than either; and you know how, in spite of my indignation, I admired the first. I think you have quite taken the right tone, and the spirit and execution of the whole is excellent. The characters are all distinct, and kept distinct to the last, and the delineation is most delicate and just. Now you are, I know, so used to full and unmodified eulogy that I daresay my appreciation will appear faint, scanty, and grudging. Indeed it is not so; if you knew how painfully scrupulous I am (not as a matter of conscience, but of insuperable instinct) in matters of praise to keep within the truth—you would read more real admiration in my cold sentences than in the golden opinions of more demonstrative ones."

    Like her critic, Mrs. Gaskell in North and South had no other desire than that of perfect fairness. Once more, she accorded the recognition which was its due to the heroic element perceptible in the conduct of the workmen, when persistently holding out together even to the disadvantage of their individual interests—that’s what folk call fine and honourable in a soldier, and why not in a poor weaver chap? On the other hand, she cast no glamor round their unreasonableness in thought and in action, and exhibited them as clinging to their prejudices even where pernicious to themselves—like the men who didn’t like working in places where there was a wheel, because they said as how it made ’em hungry, at after they’d been used to swallowing fluff, to go without it, and that their wage ought to be raised if they were to work in such places. In Nicholas Higgins she drew to the life the best kind of Lancashire operative; and the pitifulness of the likeness was attested by the great engineer, Sir William Fairbairn, who knew more than most men of Manchester workshops, and who wrote to Mrs. Gaskell:

    Poor old Higgins, with his weak consumptive daughter, is a true picture of a Manchester man. There are many like him in this town, and a better sample of independent industry you could not have hit upon. Higgins is an excellent representative of a Lancashire operative—strictly independent—and is one of the best characters in the piece.

    But she depicted with no less force and fidelity the fanaticism of unreason in the personage of Higgins’ bête noire, the unlucky Boucher—whose folly, dealing destruction to his nearest and dearest as well as to himself, his comrade was to requite by a self-sacrificing care for the suicide’s widow and children.

    But the companion picture to that of the working man typical of the best characteristics of his class—the picture of a master who, with the roots of his own strength in his native ground, aware of his power and jealous of all interference with its legitimate exercise, yet comes gradually to realize the whole of his duty towards his workmen—this was for the first time deliberately essayed by Mrs. Gaskell in North and South. In her first novel old Mr. Carson is, towards the end of his career, brought to an insight into the significance of all that remains to be done in order to humanize the personal relations between employer and employed. In North and South the whole course of the story, whose most dramatic scene has shown the master and his men face to face in all but internecine conflict, makes us understand how its hero, Mr. Thornton, a man of true Lancashire metal, possessed of a firm will, a clear head, and a true heart, gradually finds for himself the true solution of a problem of which he has come to understand the conditions in their entirety. The intuition of Margaret, his soul’s love, has from the first, in the midst of her ignorance, insisted upon this solution. Through her Mr. Thornton comes to know Higgins; through Higgins his fellow-workmen; and in the end the simple and self-evident conclusion, God has made us so that we must be mutually dependent, is acknowledged true on both sides; and we may look forward to this recognition bringing forth fruit, though not always in the same amplitude—some an hundred-fold, some sixty-fold, some thirty-fold.

    At the same time—and the process illustrates the wonderful evolutionary force proper to the ideas of a really creative imagination—the theme of Mary Barton, thus enlarged and expanded into that of North and South, in the latter novel advances into a quite new phase.{1} The antagonism, it has been well said by a critic whom I make no apology for quoting once more,{2} of which we are here called upon to take note, is not so much the antagonism of capital and labour, as that between ancient and modern civilisations. The agricultural, patriarchal, easy-going, idyllic South is opposed to the feverish energy and severe austerity of the North. We have here a profound contrast, which has become an essential part of English life, and a theme fertile in developments—moral, artistic, and economic. Mrs. Gaskell deserves credit for having so clearly seized and so subtly delineated certain aspects at all events of this antithesis. And, it may be added, she contrives with admirable skill to do justice to both parts of the picture, and to show the weak spots in the social life of both Northerners and Southerners—town folk and country folk. The ways of the manufacturing districts of the North are, as might be expected, described with a kindly truthfulness with which the most susceptible sensibility could hardly find fault, even though time may have softened some of the colors, or cast some varied hues over the characteristically colorless background of the picture. A single chapter (Looking South) suffices to remind us how the simple life of the southern village, as well as the more complicated life of the busy northern town, has not only its shortcomings, but its trials and temptations. And, ultimately, Margaret, the refined and ardent heroine of the tale, after she has in spite of herself learnt to understand the truth and tenderness that light up the darkness of the North, has only to revisit the southern home, in comparison with which every other spot once seemed to her hard and prosaic-looking, in order, even in its old enchanting atmosphere, to see clearly and judge justly.

    The distinguished French critic just cited by me conjectures that Mrs. Gaskell put a good deal of her heart into the contrast which in North and South she endeavored to depict—a contrast which no true painters of English life, from Chaucer to Dickens, has failed to introduce into his pictures. M. Cazamian can hardly be wrong in asserting that the days of her childhood and youth at Knutsford, and her school-time at Stratford-on-Avon, had familiarised her with the irresistible attractions of English country-life. But his logical conclusion that, suddenly transplanted, she might very well have felt all the repugnance which Manchester excites, is rather of the high primal kind. It ignores one of the most characteristic of her gifts—a saving gift, one might almost call it—which she owed, partly to the varied personal experience of her earlier life (not all of which was spent among green hedgerows and in ministers’ gardens), but chiefly to the swiftness of her imaginative powers and to the serene catholicity of her humor. Thus she could at all times enter, not only quickly but fully, into quite different and mutually contrasting aspects of life and its surroundings; and I cannot imagine her at any time to have had to do battle in her own mind with those prejudices which to Margaret Hale were the source, at first of so much pride, and then of so much anguish. Thus North and South, among its many distinctive merits, possesses that of a fairness of judgment which is the result, not of balanced antipathies, but of a most comprehensive sympathy. The personal reminiscences in the book are, to all seeming, few and far between. In Mr. Hale, the high-minded clergyman who, irresolute in small things, relinquishes his living and his clerical work for conscience’ sake, there may be (as has been suggested) distinguishable some features of Mrs. Gaskell’s father, William Stevenson, in his relations to the religious ministry. And the character and experiences of Frederick, the exiled first-born child, for whom his poor dying mother yearns with all the strength of her weakness, may in some measure, like those of Peter in Cranford, have been suggested by the mysterious story of John Stevenson, Mrs. Gaskell’s own brother. But the figure of Frederick is of secondary importance only; and, in the eyes of most readers, good Mr. Hale’s religious difficulties are likely to occupy a less prominent place in the story than they perhaps did in the design of Mrs. Gaskell, and certainly in the judgment of Charlotte Bronte. Writing, presumably, of the fine chapter in which Mr. Hale announces his decision to his daughter, that staunch conservative Churchwoman says in a letter to her friend:

    The subject seems to me difficult; at first I groaned over it: if you had any narrowness of views or bitterness of feeling towards the Church or her clergy, I should groan over it still; but I think I see the ground you are about to take as far as the Church is concerned: not that of attack on her, but of defence of those who conscientiously differ from her, and feel it a duty to leave her fold. Well—it is good ground, but still rugged for the step of fiction. Stony—thorny will it prove at times, I fear.

    Since Mr. Hale’s time, it should be remembered, some of the outward obstacles to such a course as that pursued by him have been removed; and, with the growth of a tolerance which is not due to indifference only, has grown an unwillingness to interfere, even by a comment which would sometimes not be wholly unwelcome, between a sincere thinker and his conclusions.

    The construction of North and South may in my judgment be rightly described as almost faultless. There is not an incident in the story which does not bear upon its progress. There is no dissipation of interest; and the attention of the reader is kept throughout in perfect suspense. Dickens, it will be remembered, could not in the least foresee the ending of the plot. This ending is most admirably devised, though exception might perhaps be taken with a detail or two in the way which is found for Mr. Thornton out of his final difficulties. The action at large is carried on among a group of characters, all of which are kept perfectly distinct from one another, and are at the same time thoroughly interesting in themselves. I have already touched on the admirable delineations of the working men, and of Bessy Higgins, with her spiritual yearnings for a peace which is not of this world, and her human love of change for the sake of change—so that she can ever find an excuse for her father’s lapses into drinking. At the other end of the social scale are the Lennoxes and Aunt Shaw—the shadows of a season, cheerfully limited and entirely contented with their limitations. Of them Henry Lennox, Margaret’s first lover, is a subtle variety—clever enough for anything, except for an insight into his own fatal limitation—self.

    About Margaret, whom there are few heroines to equal in fiction—in that of our own times Ethel Newcome alone deserves to rank beside her—there is a quite extraordinary charm; and the transformation in her on which the story turns is worked out with equal power and delicacy. One can almost see her, as poor Bessy saw her in a dream, coming swiftly towards me, wi’ yo’r hair blown back wi’ the very swiftness o’ the motion, a little standing off like; and the white shining dress on yo’ve getten to wear; or in the moment of anguish, confronted with her real lover and his passion, her head, for all its drooping eyes, thrown a little back, in the old proud attitude. If, after the arrival of the Hales at Milton, Margaret’s prejudice against tradesmen is a little overdone, though the talk about gentlemen is perfectly natural, there is not a false tone or a wrong color at any subsequent stage of the story of the long assay. And thus at the end, after all has seemed over, and she and her poor heart have, in the words—surely of St. Francois de Sales—read by her, found their only refuge in humble submission to the Divine mercy, she is vouchsafed the supreme earthly happiness of learning that the love concealed in that heart is returned.

    The character of Thornton, whose nature is the complement of Margaret’s, is drawn with no less force and consistency. I belong to Teutonic blood, he says; it is little mingled in this part of England to what it is in others: we retain much of their language; we retain more of their spirit; we do not look upon life as a time for enjoyment, but as a time for action and exertion. Our glory and our beauty arise out of our inward strength, which makes us victorious over material resistance, and over greater difficulties still. He is an admirable type of the best of the Lancashire master manufacturers of his day: upholding the principle of independence for both masters and men; hating Parliamentary or other State interference; and very much averse from giving reasons where he claims a right to give orders. But in the story he interests us for something beyond his views of industry or of life, and besides the action into which he unhesitatingly translates those views. It would be difficult to find in fiction an equally simple, striking, and true picture of a strong man under the spell of a great passion—a passion worthy of himself.

    These two great figures stand in an environment which partly enables us to understand them both, partly accentuates particular sides of the contrasts which are harmonized between hero and heroine. Mrs. Thornton is effective on the whole, but in her austerity, a trifle Dickensian—or may one venture to say, stagey? When Margaret refuses her son, this rather alarming mother-in-law in posse showed her teeth like a dog for the whole length of her mouth; and when she in her turn reproves the young foreigner with supposed levity of conduct, she describes her son as this Milton manufacturer, his great heart scorned as it was scorned. The truth is that the mothers of self-made men, and sometimes of other persons of importance, have almost as hard a time of it in fiction as some of them have in real life. Mr. Hale, as has already been said, belongs to his times, and is a very attractive example of them—more so perhaps than the excellent Mr. Bell, who with his common-room wit and his bottle of port for luncheon, would have shocked the more delicate idiosyncrasies of even the contemporaries of Robert Elsmere. But how life-like and clear-cut every one of these figures is, including that of Mrs. Hale’s own maid, Dixon, a perfectly new variety in Mrs. Gaskell’s exquisite collection of serving-women—aristocratic in her tastes, vulgar in her soul, rising quite superior to her unlucky master’s theological scruples, but not above edifying the listening Milton maid-of-all work by her talk about the Harley Street establishment and true of heart withal!

    The success of North and South was unequivocal. While, owing to the very fact of its fairness of spirit and evenness of judgment, it was the last sort of book to create what is called a sensation, it was destined to become a favorite of all classes, and of many generations, and is unlikely to lose the hold it has gained over the lovers of the best kind of fiction. For the commanding interest of this inimitable story is truly human; and no art could be more triumphant than that with which its varied contrasts are harmonized, and its central conflict is ended.

    ADOLPHUS WILLIAM WARD

    1906.

    Preface to Original Edition

    On its appearance in ‘Household Words,’ this tale was obliged to conform to the conditions imposed by the requirements of a weekly publication, and likewise to confine itself within certain advertised limits, in order that faith might be kept with the public. Although these conditions were made as light as they well could be, the author found it impossible to develope the story in the manner originally intended, and, more especially, was compelled to hurry on events with an improbable rapidity towards the close. In some degree to remedy this obvious defect, various short passages have been inserted, and several new chapters added. With this brief explanation, the tale is commended to the kindness of the reader;

    ‘Beseking hym lowly, of mercy and pité,

    Of its rude makyng to have compassion.’

    Chapter I. ‘Haste to the Wedding’

    ‘Wooed and married and a’.’

    ‘Edith!’ said Margaret, gently, ‘Edith!’

    But, as Margaret half suspected, Edith had fallen asleep. She lay curled up on the sofa in the back drawing-room in Harley Street, looking very lovely in her white muslin and blue ribbons. If Titania had ever been dressed in white muslin and blue ribbons, and had fallen asleep on a crimson damask sofa in a back drawing-room, Edith might have been taken for her. Margaret was struck afresh by her cousin’s beauty. They had grown up together from childhood, and all along Edith had been remarked upon by every one, except Margaret, for her prettiness; but Margaret had never thought about it until the last few days, when the prospect of soon losing her companion seemed to give force to every sweet quality and charm which Edith possessed. They had been talking about wedding dresses, and wedding ceremonies; and Captain Lennox, and what he had told Edith about her future life at Corfu, where his regiment was stationed; and the difficulty of keeping a piano in good tune (a difficulty which Edith seemed to consider as one of the most formidable that could befall her in her married life), and what gowns she should want in the visits to Scotland, which would immediately succeed her marriage; but the whispered tone had latterly become more drowsy; and Margaret, after a pause of a few minutes, found, as she fancied, that in spite of the buzz in the next room, Edith had rolled herself up into a soft ball of muslin and ribbon, and silken curls, and gone off into a peaceful little after-dinner nap.

    Margaret had been on the point of telling her cousin of some of the plans and visions which she entertained as to her future life in the country parsonage, where her father and mother lived; and where her bright holidays had always been passed, though for the last ten years her aunt Shaw’s house had been considered as her home. But in default of a listener, she had to brood over the change in her life silently as heretofore. It was a happy brooding, although tinged with regret at being separated for an indefinite time from her gentle aunt and dear cousin. As she thought of the delight of filling the important post of only daughter in Helstone parsonage, pieces of the conversation out of the next room came upon her ears. Her aunt Shaw was talking to the five or six ladies who had been dining there, and whose husbands were still in the dining-room. They were the familiar acquaintances of the house; neighbours whom Mrs. Shaw called friends, because she happened to dine with them more frequently than with any other people, and because if she or Edith wanted anything from them, or they from her, they did not scruple to make a call at each other’s houses before luncheon. These ladies and their husbands were invited, in their capacity of friends, to eat a farewell dinner in honour of Edith’s approaching marriage. Edith had rather objected to this arrangement, for Captain Lennox was expected to arrive by a late train this very evening; but, although she was a spoiled child, she was too careless and idle to have a very strong will of her own, and gave way when she found that her mother had absolutely ordered those extra delicacies of the season which are always supposed to be efficacious against immoderate grief at farewell dinners. She contented herself by leaning back in her chair, merely playing with the food on her plate, and looking grave and absent; while all around her were enjoying the mots of Mr. Grey, the gentleman who always took the bottom of the table at Mrs. Shaw’s dinner parties, and asked Edith to give them some music in the drawing-room. Mr. Grey was particularly agreeable over this farewell dinner, and the gentlemen staid down stairs longer than usual. It was very well they did—to judge from the fragments of conversation which Margaret overheard.

    ‘I suffered too much myself; not that I was not extremely happy with the poor dear General, but still disparity of age is a drawback; one that I was resolved Edith should not have to encounter. Of course, without any maternal partiality, I foresaw that the dear child was likely to marry early; indeed, I had often said that I was sure she would be married before she was nineteen. I had quite a prophetic feeling when Captain Lennox’—and here the voice dropped into a whisper, but Margaret could easily supply the blank. The course of true love in Edith’s case had run remarkably smooth. Mrs. Shaw had given way to the presentiment, as she expressed it; and had rather urged on the marriage, although it was below the expectations which many of Edith’s acquaintances had formed for her, a young and pretty heiress. But Mrs. Shaw said that her only child should marry for love,—and sighed emphatically, as if love had not been her motive for marrying the General. Mrs. Shaw enjoyed the romance of the present engagement rather more than her daughter. Not but that Edith was very thoroughly and properly in love; still she would certainly have preferred a good house in Belgravia, to all the picturesqueness of the life which Captain Lennox described at Corfu. The very parts which made Margaret glow as she listened, Edith pretended to shiver and shudder at; partly for the pleasure she had in being coaxed out of her dislike by her fond lover, and partly because anything of a gipsy or make-shift life was really distasteful to her. Yet had any one come with a fine house, and a fine estate, and a fine title to boot, Edith would still have clung to Captain Lennox while the temptation lasted; when it was over, it is possible she might have had little qualms of ill-concealed regret that Captain Lennox could not have united in his person everything that was desirable. In this she was but her mother’s child; who, after deliberately marrying General Shaw with no warmer feeling than respect for his character and establishment, was constantly, though quietly, bemoaning her hard lot in being united to one whom she could not love.

    ‘I have spared no expense in her trousseau,’ were the next words Margaret heard. ‘She has all the beautiful Indian shawls and scarfs the General gave to me, but which I shall never wear again.’

    ‘She is a lucky girl,’ replied another voice, which Margaret knew to be that of Mrs. Gibson, a lady who was taking a double interest in the conversation, from the fact of one of her daughters having been married within the last few weeks. ‘Helen had set her heart upon an Indian shawl, but really when I found what an extravagant price was asked, I was obliged to refuse her. She will be quite envious when she hears of Edith having Indian shawls. What kind are they? Delhi? with the lovely little borders?’

    Margaret heard her aunt’s voice again, but this time it was as if she had raised herself up from her half-recumbent position, and were looking into the more dimly lighted back drawing-room. ‘Edith! Edith!’ cried she; and then she sank as if wearied by the exertion. Margaret stepped forward.

    ‘Edith is asleep, Aunt Shaw. Is it anything I can do?’

    All the ladies said ‘Poor child!’ on receiving this distressing intelligence about Edith; and the minute lap-dog in Mrs. Shaw’s arms began to bark, as if excited by the burst of pity.

    ‘Hush, Tiny! you naughty little girl! you will waken your mistress. It was only to ask Edith if she would tell Newton to bring down her shawls: perhaps you would go, Margaret dear?’

    Margaret went up into the old nursery at the very top of the house, where Newton was busy getting up some laces which were required for the wedding. While Newton went (not without a muttered grumbling) to undo the shawls, which had already been exhibited four or five times that day, Margaret looked round upon the nursery; the first room in that house with which she had become familiar nine years ago, when she was brought, all untamed from the forest, to share the home, the play, and the lessons of her cousin Edith. She remembered the dark, dim look of the London nursery, presided over by an austere and ceremonious nurse, who was terribly particular about clean hands and torn frocks. She recollected the first tea up there—separate from her father and aunt, who were dining somewhere down below an infinite depth of stairs; for unless she were up in the sky (the child thought), they must be deep down in the bowels of the earth. At home—before she came to live in Harley Street—her mother’s dressing-room had been her nursery; and, as they kept early hours in the country parsonage, Margaret had always had her meals with her father and mother. Oh! well did the tall stately girl of eighteen remember the tears shed with such wild passion of grief by the little girl of nine, as she hid her face under the bed-clothes, in that first night; and how she was bidden not to cry by the nurse, because it would disturb Miss Edith; and how she had cried as bitterly, but more quietly, till her newly-seen, grand, pretty aunt had come softly upstairs with Mr. Hale to show him his little sleeping daughter. Then the little Margaret had hushed her sobs, and tried to lie quiet as if asleep, for fear of making her father unhappy by her grief, which she dared not express before her aunt, and which she rather thought it was wrong to feel at all after the long hoping, and planning, and contriving they had gone through at home, before her wardrobe could be arranged so as to suit her grander circumstances, and before papa could leave his parish to come up to London, even for a few days.

    Now she had got to love the old nursery, though it was but a dismantled place; and she looked all round, with a kind of cat-like regret, at the idea of leaving it for ever in three days.

    ‘Ah Newton!’ said she, ‘I think we shall all be sorry to leave this dear old room.’

    ‘Indeed, miss, I shan’t for one. My eyes are not so good as they were, and the light here is so bad that I can’t see to mend laces except just at the window, where there’s always a shocking draught—enough to give one one’s death of cold.’

    Well, I dare say you will have both good light and plenty of warmth at Naples. You must keep as much of your darning as you can till then. Thank you, Newton, I can take them down—you’re busy.’

    So Margaret went down laden with shawls, and snuffing up their spicy Eastern smell. Her aunt asked her to stand as a sort of lay figure on which to display them, as Edith was still asleep. No one thought about it; but Margaret’s tall, finely made figure, in the black silk dress which she was wearing as mourning for some distant relative of her father’s, set off the long beautiful folds of the gorgeous shawls that would have half-smothered Edith. Margaret stood right under the chandelier, quite silent and passive, while her aunt adjusted the draperies. Occasionally, as she was turned round, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror over the chimney-piece, and smiled at her own appearance there-the familiar features in the usual garb of a princess. She touched the shawls gently as they hung around her, and took a pleasure in their soft feel and their brilliant colours, and rather liked to be dressed in such splendour—enjoying it much as a child would do, with a quiet pleased smile on her lips. Just then the door opened, and Mr. Henry Lennox was suddenly announced. Some of the ladies started back, as if half-ashamed of their feminine interest in dress. Mrs. Shaw held out her hand to the new-comer; Margaret stood perfectly still, thinking she might be yet wanted as a sort of block for the shawls; but looking at Mr. Lennox with a bright, amused face, as if sure of his sympathy in her sense of the ludicrousness at being thus surprised.

    Her aunt was so much absorbed in asking Mr. Henry Lennox—who had not been able to come to dinner—all sorts of questions about his brother the bridegroom, his sister the bridesmaid (coming with the Captain from Scotland for the occasion), and various other members of the Lennox family, that Margaret saw she was no more wanted as shawl-bearer, and devoted herself to the amusement of the other visitors, whom her aunt had for the moment forgotten. Almost immediately, Edith came in from the back drawing-room, winking and blinking her eyes at the stronger light, shaking back her slightly-ruffled curls, and altogether looking like the Sleeping Beauty just startled from her dreams. Even in her slumber she had instinctively felt that a Lennox was worth rousing herself for; and she had a multitude of questions to ask about dear Janet, the future, unseen sister-in-law, for whom she professed so much affection, that if Margaret had not been very proud she might have almost felt jealous of the mushroom rival. As Margaret sank rather more into the background on her aunt’s joining the conversation, she saw Henry Lennox directing his look towards a vacant seat near her; and she knew perfectly well that as soon as Edith released him from her questioning, he would take possession of that chair. She had not been quite sure, from her aunt’s rather confused account of his engagements, whether he would come that night; it was almost a surprise to see him; and now she was sure of a pleasant evening. He liked and disliked pretty nearly the same things that she did. Margaret’s face was lightened up into an honest, open brightness. By-and-by he came. She received him with a smile which had not a tinge of shyness or self-consciousness in it.

    ‘Well, I suppose you are all in the depths of business—ladies’ business, I mean. Very different to my business, which is the real true law business. Playing with shawls is very different work to drawing up settlements.

    ‘Ah, I knew how you would be amused to find us all so occupied in admiring finery. But really Indian shawls are very perfect things of their kind.’

    ‘I have no doubt they are. Their prices are very perfect, too. Nothing wanting.

    ‘The gentlemen came dropping in one by one, and the buzz and noise deepened in tone.

    ‘This is your last dinner-party, is it not? There are no more before Thursday?’

    ‘No. I think after this evening we shall feel at rest, which I am sure I have not done for many weeks; at least, that kind of rest when the hands have nothing more to do, and all the arrangements are complete for an event which must occupy one’s head and heart. I shall be glad to have time to think, and I am sure Edith will.’

    ‘I am not so sure about her; but I can fancy that you will. Whenever I have seen you lately, you have been carried away by a whirlwind of some other person’s making.’

    ‘Yes,’ said Margaret, rather sadly, remembering the never-ending commotion about trifles that had been going on for more than a month past: ‘I wonder if a marriage must always be preceded by what you call a whirlwind, or whether in some cases there might not rather be a calm and peaceful time just before it.’

    ‘Cinderella’s godmother ordering the trousseau, the wedding-breakfast, writing the notes of invitation, for instance,’ said Mr. Lennox, laughing.

    ‘But are all these quite necessary troubles?’ asked Margaret, looking up straight at him for an answer. A sense of indescribable weariness of all the arrangements for a pretty effect, in which Edith had been busied as supreme authority for the last six weeks, oppressed her just now; and she really wanted some one to help her to a few pleasant, quiet ideas connected with a marriage.

    ‘Oh, of course,’ he replied with a change to gravity in his tone. ‘There are forms and ceremonies to be gone through, not so much to satisfy oneself, as to stop the world’s mouth, without which stoppage there would be very little satisfaction in life. But how would you have a wedding arranged?’

    ‘Oh, I have never thought much about it; only I should like it to be a very fine summer morning; and I should like to walk to church through the shade of trees; and not to have so many bridesmaids, and to have no wedding-breakfast. I dare say I am resolving against the very things that have given me the most trouble just now.’

    ‘No, I don’t think you are. The idea of stately simplicity accords well with your character.’

    Margaret did not quite like this speech; she winced away from it more, from remembering former occasions on which he had tried to lead her into a discussion (in which he took the complimentary part) about her own character and ways of going on. She cut his speech rather short by saying:

    ‘It is natural for me to think of Helstone church, and the walk to it, rather than of driving up to a London church in the middle of a paved street.’

    ‘Tell me about Helstone. You have never described it to me. I should like to have some idea of the place you will be living in, when ninety-six Harley Street will be looking dingy and dirty, and dull, and shut up. Is Helstone a village, or a town, in the first place?’

    ‘Oh, only a hamlet; I don’t think I could call it a village at all. There is the church and a few houses near it on the green—cottages, rather—with roses growing all over them.’

    ‘And flowering all the year round, especially at Christmas—make your picture complete,’ said he.

    ‘No,’ replied Margaret, somewhat annoyed, ‘I am not making a picture. I am trying to describe Helstone as it really is. You should not have said that.’

    ‘I am penitent,’ he answered. ‘Only it really sounded like a village in a tale rather than in real life.’

    ‘And so it is,’ replied Margaret, eagerly. ‘All the other places in England that I have seen seem so hard and prosaic-looking, after the New Forest. Helstone is like a village in a poem—in one of Tennyson’s poems. But I won’t try and describe it any more. You would only laugh at me if I told you what I think of it—what it really is.’

    ‘Indeed, I would not. But I see you are going to be very resolved. Well, then, tell me that which I should like still better to know what the parsonage is like.’

    ‘Oh, I can’t describe my home. It is home, and I can’t put its charm into words.’

    ‘I submit. You are rather severe to-night, Margaret.

    ‘How?’ said she, turning her large soft eyes round full upon him. ‘I did not know I was.’

    ‘Why, because I made an unlucky remark, you will neither tell me what Helstone is like, nor will you say anything about your home, though I have told you how much I want to hear about both, the latter especially.’

    ‘But indeed I cannot tell you about my own home. I don’t quite think it is a thing to be talked about, unless you knew it.’

    ‘Well, then’—pausing for a moment—‘tell me what you do there. Here you read, or have lessons, or otherwise improve your mind, till the middle of the day; take a walk before lunch, go a drive with your aunt after, and

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