In  his  volume  of  poems,  published  in  185 1,  Mr.  Meredith  wrote  one
of  the  most  charming,  rhythmical  and  melodious  of  love  songs,
'  Love  in  the  Valley. '  For  months  after  he  read  it  Tennyson  could
not  get  the  lines  out  of  his  lips.  For  a  long  time  they  were  hidden,
and  then  not  many  years  ago  they  were  republished  in  Meredithese.
Even  in  the  present  form  some  vestige  of  their  former  beauty  may
now  and  then  be  seen,  but  they  are  intolerable  to  any  reader  fortunate
enough  to  possess  the  first  copy.
The  caution  and  poise  of  Dr.  Nicoll's  words  add  to  the  seriousness
of  this  critical  judgment,  which,  even  less  guardedly  phrased,  would
still  have  been  important  as  coming  from  so  ripe  a  student  of  literary
style.  Even  so  ardent  a  Meredithian  as  Mr.  James  Douglas,  in  his
critical  biography  of  Mr.  Theodore  Watts-Dunton,  has  to  write  on  the
same  subject  with  misgivings,  for  in  the  end  this  question  of  style
will  be  the  determining  factor  in  the  permanence  of  Meredith's  works.
No  one  adores  the  work  of  Mr.  Meredith  more  than  I  do  (says
Mr.  Douglas),  though  my  admiration  is  not  without  a  certain
leaven  of  distress  at  his  literary  self-consciousness.  I  say  this  with
all  reverence.  Great  as  Meredith  is,  he  would  be  greater  still  if,
when  he  is  delivering  his  priceless  gifts  to  us,  he  would  bear  in
mind  that  immortal  injunction  in  '  King  Henry  the  Fourth  ' — ■'  I
prithee  now,  deliver  them  like  a  man  of  this  world. '  I  can  imagine
how  the  great  humorist  must  smile  when  the  dolt,  who  once  found
'  obscurity  '  in  his  most  lucid  passages,  praises  him  for  the  defects
of  his  qualities,  and  calls  upon  all  other  writers  to  write  Meredithese.
