ble power, the general effect is exceedingly
unpleasant. Bulwer Lytton's "Zanoni," a peculiarly fanciful work,
unfolds the mysteries of the Rosicrucians. In "Alice's Adventures in
Wonderland," the freaks and vagaries of the imagination in sleep are
vividly traced. The curious mixture of the actual and the unreal, the
merging of wholly different ideas in one conception, so frequent in
dreams, are described with extraordinary skill and delicacy. The
childlike simplicity of Alice's mind is charmingly maintained, and the
exquisite vein of humor which runs through the whole book makes it one
of the most delightful as well as one of the most remarkable of
fictions.

X.

In an article published in _The Ninteenth Century_, Mr. Anthony
Trollope expressed his views on the good and evil influences exerted by
works of fiction, and he has repeated very much the same opinions in
his interesting book on Thackeray.[212] "However poor your matter may
be," he says, "however near you may come to that 'foolishest of
existing mortals,' as Carlyle presumes some unfortunate novelist to be,
still, if there be those who read your works, they will undoubtedly be
more or less influenced by what they find there. And it is because the
novelist amuses that he is thus influential. The sermon too often has
no such effect, because it is applied with the declared intention of
having it. The palpable and overt dose the child rejects; but that
which is cunningly insinuated by the aid of jam or honey is accepted
unconsciously, and goes on its curative mission. So it is with the
novel. It is taken because of its jam and honey. But, unlike the
honest, simple jam and honey of the household cupboard, it is never
unmixed with physic. There will be the dose within it, either curative
or poisonous. The girl will be taught modesty or immodesty, truth or
falsehood; the lad will be taught honor or dishonor, simplicity or
affectation. Without the lesson the amusement will not be there. There
are novels which certainly teach nothing; but then neither can they
amuse any one. I should be said to insist absurdly on the power of my
own confraternity if I were to declare that the bulk of the young
people in the upper and middle classes receive their moral teaching
chiefly from the novels they read. Mothers would no doubt think of
their own sweet teaching: fathers of the examples which they set: and
schoolmasters of the influence of their instructions. Happy is the
c