The American critic describes the fact of du Maurier commencing novelist at sixty and succeeding, as one of the most extraordinary things in the history of literature, and without parallel. Perhaps the parallel has been shown in the case of Mr. de Morgan. Mr. Howells also speaks of du Maurier perfecting an attitude recognisable in Fielding, Sterne, Heine, and Thackeray--the confidential one. Du Maurier's _Trilby_ was a confidence. But he adds, "It wants the last respect for the reader's intelligence--it wants whatever is the very greatest thing in the very greatest novelists--the thing that convinces in Hawthorne, George Eliot, Tourgénief, Tolstoy. But short of this supreme truth, it has every grace, every beauty, every charm." The word "Every" here seems to us an American exaggeration. We should ask ourselves whether in spite of all its confidentialness _Trilby_ makes an intimate revelation. The rare quality of intimacy, that is the greatest thing in the very greatest novels. The "boom" of _Trilby_, we are told, surprised du Maurier immensely, for he had not taken himself _au sérieux_ as a novelist. Indeed it rather distressed him when he reflected that Thackeray never had a "boom." [Illustration: Unpublished drawing from sketch-book] §5 Although du Maurier had said that his head was full of plots the supply seemed to have run thin by the time he set to work on _The Martian_. The value of this book rests with its autobiographical character. The knot is not tied in the first half and unravelled in the second, after the approved manner in which plots should be woven. The story is chiefly a record of people and places, vivid, and written in a breathless, chatty style. It somewhat resembles the conversation of a boy on returning from his holidays. It reveals a perfectly amazing resource in imparting life to mere description. As a writer, du Maurier seemed immediately to acquire a style unlike that of anyone else. Everything is described with a zest that carries the reader along, and this manner is even extended to things that are not worth describing. But he was always slightly apologetic with pen in hand, never permitting himself the professional air, or giving a full challenge to criticism by disclaiming the privileges of a distinguished amateur.