nor does it ever betray its presence in him through those slight but
graceful courtesies of life which are pre-eminently the sphere of its
manifestation. Equally untenable is the hypothesis which ascribes these
manifestations of character wholly to the influence of a nature higher
than his own appealing to him--that of Felix Holt, the glorious old
Dissenter, or Esther Lyon. Such appeals can have any avail only when in
the nature appealed to there remains the capability to recognise that
right is greater than success or joy, and the moral power of will to act
on that recognition. In the fact that Harold's nature does respond to
these appeals we have the clue to the apparent anomaly his character
presents. We see that, howsoever overlaid by temperament and restrained
by circumstance, the noblest capability in man still survives and is
active in him. He _can_ choose the right which imperils his own
interests, because it _is_ the right; he _can_ set his back on the wrong
which would advantage himself, because it _is_ the wrong. That he does
this coolly, temperately, without enthusiasm, with full, clear
forecasting of all the consequences, is only saying that he is Harold
Transome still. That he does so choose when the forecast probabilities
are all against those objects which the mere man of the world most
desires, proves that under that hard external crust dwells as essential a
nobleness as any we recognise in Felix Holt. There is an inherent
strength and manliness in Harold Transome to which Arthur Donnithorne or
Godfrey Cass can never attain.

Few things in the literary history of the age are more puzzling than the
reception given to 'Romola' by a novel-devouring public. That the lovers
of mere sensationalism should not have appreciated it, was to be fully
expected. But to probably the majority of readers, even of average
intelligence and capability, it was, and still is, nothing but a
weariness. With the more thoughtful, on the other hand, it took at once