orical itself, of the supernatural, of the
eccentric, and of many other kinds. But practically all who tried these
later tried the ordinary, and a great many who tried the ordinary did
not try the others. It is therefore on the development of the novel of
common modern life that we must, at any rate for a little time, spend
most of our attention here.

The fact of the change is indeed so certain and so obvious, that there
is not much need to enforce or illustrate it, though it must be
remembered that, on any true conception of history, the most obvious
things are not those least worthy of being chronicled. Even Hugo, likely
to be, and actually being, the most recalcitrant to the movement, comes
close to modern times, and to such ordinary life as was possible to him,
in _Les Miserables_ and _Les Travailleurs de la Mer_. George Sand had
begun as a sort of modernist; but by any one who can perform the (it is
true not very easy) task of equating relative modernity, it will not be
found that _Mlle. la Quintinie_, or even _Flamarande_, are more modern
than _Lelia_ or _Valentine_ in the mere ratio of the dates. The ordinary
life of the 'thirties and that of the 'sixties and 'seventies was no
doubt different, but there is more than that difference in the books
referred to. The artist is, consciously or unconsciously, trying to get
nearer to her model or sitter. And this though George Sand was really
almost as self-centred as Hugo, though in another way.

But it is, of course, in less idiosyncratic writers than these, who
continued, and in others who began, to write at this time, that we must
look for our real documents. Among the elder of this second class, Jules
Sandeau's work is worth recurring to. He had sometimes gone a little
earlier than his own time, and he had sometimes employed what is
called--perhaps inconsiderately and certainly to some extent
misleadingly--"romantic" incident in addition to purely novel-character
and presentation. But his general manner of dealing reproduces itself,
almost more than that of any of his contemporaries, in those novelists
of the last quarter of the century who do not bow the knee to
Naturalism: and one finds some actual recognition of the fact in
dedications to him by younger novelists such as M. Andre Theuriet.[560]

But, look where you will, the lesson is unmistakable. Take Alexandre
Dumas _fils_, beginning with a _Tristan le Roux_ and ending with an
_Affaire Clemenceau_. Take Flau