Here is not the barren politics of manipulation but an ideal of
living citizenship. I commend it to all believers in new days and all
honourable disgruntlers; not perhaps as a programme but as a tonic.
* * * * *
Do not, please, run away with the idea that _The Nursery_ (HEINEMANN)
presents us with Mr. EDEN PHILLPOTTS' views on baby culture. The
background of his story, the scenes of which are laid in and around
Colchester a year or so ago, is composed of gardens and oyster-beds. On
these he gives a lot of information, and, as he could not be pedantic
even if he tried to be, I browsed pleasantly upon the store of knowledge
set before me. Also I liked the restraint he shows in dealing with the
War, and commend his exemplary method to some of our more blatant
novelists. When, however, I came to the inhabitants of _The Nursery_ I
failed to find in them that rare and delightful quality with which Mr.
PHILLPOTTS usually succeeds in endowing his characters. Readers of his
novels must know by this time that he is not exactly in love with _Mrs.
Grundy_, but here he seems to be insurgent against something, and for
the life of me I don't know quite what it is. Perhaps it is insincerity,
which is a very good thing to be in rebellion against. There is one very
amusing and delightful character, a bibulous old sinner who defied law
and order and almost at the last gasp ladled out what he considered
justice in a most dramatic manner.
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