COMMONSENSE OF MR. ARNOLD BENNETT 121 completely you must be lucky enough to be born a little nearer to the centre of things than London. To appreciate Mr. Bennett's art, a purely provincial product, to see all that it stands for and all that it is bringing us, you too must be a provincial — seeing London, as a consequence, a third storey, not a base- ment and first cause. It is the half-dazed tripper, fresh through the portals of Euston, at whom the cool Cockney smiles, who is the real connoisseur of London, the expert in its life and lore ; and Mr. Bennett has never lost that primitive relish for the spectacle of Piccadilly and the Strand. Harrod's (see his Hugo) is as wonderful to him as the Bagdad bazaars ; the Savoy (see The Chrand Babylon Hotel) far more thrilling than the Palace of the Doges. And they are romantic (this is the great point) not because he is bedazzled by them, but because his shrewd provincial eyes are fresh and strong enough to see them in their quiddity — as elaborate engines " functioning " ingeniously, draining England so neatly of its succulent tit-bits, plucking waiters from the Alps, inhaling and expelling human bodies. Even those of his readers who would blush to be caught reading Hugo must have seen how assiduously he resolves things to their structural elements, beginning one book, The Old Wives Tale, with a reference to parallels of latitude and another with an adjusting side-glance at the solar system. It is because life is so mechanical that he finds it so romantic. To such a man, seeing the structure from cellarage to cowls, aware (like Edwin Clayhanger) of the hot- water pipes hidden in the walls, the smallest item in a Pottery parlour fairly twinkles with picturesque possibilities — every street, every shop, presents a forest of fascin- ating levers — and there is no higher happiness in life than to pull this and that, learn their cute combina- tions, master the art of savoir-faire. As a result, all
