ABSTRACT
If the author's lack of self-knowledge were not proverbial, it ,,,ould be hard to believe that George Gissing imagined that the icy splendours of Veranilda represented his true bent and highest achievement, while he had a book like Will Warburton conceived, if not written. Will Warburton is in the old manner-the manner ofDemos and all the books on submerged, half-conscious London. But it is more mature, more generous, more human than anything else Gissing wrote. Sombre it may be, as the earlier novels were, but it ends on a happy note, and the happiness is not the conventional kind derived from events, but the artistic happiness which springs from the development ofcharacter. In a word, Will Warburton shows Gissing near the heights to which he would inevitably have risen, had he lived; he is revealed as a great literary artist, master of his medium, but never playing tricks for the sake of effect. Every incident in the book is spontaneous and natural. Yet every page shows the deliberate consciousness of strength.
