fiction was slow and intermittent. The plot of
his stories is never probable, but in his first novel, 'Clara Vaughan,'
published in 1864, it impairs belief in the general reality of the book;
and though there is hint of the power to excite sympathy of which his
latter novels prove him so great a master, the intelligence refuses such
shrieking melodrama. 'Lorna Doone' therefore came unheralded. It was
published in London in 1869 and slowly grew in favor, then leaped into
popularity. In 1878 twenty-two editions had been printed.

Other novels followed. 'The Maid of Sker,' 'Alice Lorraine,' 'Cripps the
Carrier,' 'Erema,' 'Mary Anerley,' 'Christowell,' 'Sir Thomas Upton,'
came in rapid succession. The paternity of no novel of Mr. Blackmore's
is doubtful. All have marked characteristics. They are long and
exceedingly minute in detail. With all his finish, he tells his story
almost with a child's elaborateness of incident. Every change of the
seasons, the history of every walk is set down. He is in love with every
feature of the landscape, be it the wild doons of Exmoor or the wilder
Yorkshire coast, or, across the seas, the plains of the Sierras. He is a
story-teller of the days in which it was quite unimportant whether tales
should come to an end or not. He would have saved Scheherazade all her
trouble and enjoyed the task. He cannot pass carelessly by the slightest
incident; it is his nature to _approfondir_ all his surroundings: if the
hero breaks his stirrup and stops at the blacksmith's to have it mended,
the blacksmith will appear at the end of the story united to the rider,
from the third and fourth generation, by a subtle thread of connection.
But all these details, while they encumber the tale, contribute to a
harmonious whole; for he has in a peculiar degree an instinct for the
judicious introduction of telling human characters that are as much a
part of the detail of the scene as the trees and stones. Upon these
characters he expends a wealth of humor, and his humor is characteristic
of Blackmore alone. It is full of unexpected turns and twists of fancy,
quiet fun when we expect grave comment. Friendly old people appear, full
of innumerable quips of individuality, and breezy fields and wealthy
orchards and a general mellow fruitfulness form the background of
the play.

Especially in his prodigality is Blackmore characteristic of Blackmore.
Other writers keep their quaint reflections for their dialogue, and
confer