The Fallen Leaves (1879),
The Black Robe (1871), and
Heart and Science (1883).
That in other books are present elements of reforming zeal I am aware—for example, the abuse of private asylums figures in The Woman in White and, as mentioned below, there is a propaganda aspect to Basil; but the six above named have their origin wholly in the author's loathing of some injustice or some social evil.
Man and Wife illustrates the cruel working of the marriage laws of the United Kingdom and, incidentally, voices the author's conviction that athleticism was at the time rapidly brutalizing the youth of England. The Law and the Lady ventilates another grievance against legal injustice in matters sexual. The New Magdalen and The Fallen Leaves are protests against the outlawry of the prostitute and of the girl who gives herself, unhallowed by the religious rite, to love. It is strange that, of two books on the same subject, one (The New Magdalen) should be the best novel of its class and not far below the highest level ever attained by the author, while the other (The Fallen Leaves) should hold the last place among everything that Collins wrote. The New Magdalen is a moving and dignified treatment of a very difficult theme; The Fallen Leaves, from its aggressive preface to its sugary, unreal end, is tragic proof that high motive and technical efficiency may yet come together and produce only imbecile hysteria.
The Black Robe is anti-Jesuit; Heart and Science anti-vivisection. Both are readable, and the latter something more. It may be noted that Collins himself called Heart and Science his best novel since Man and Wife. Probably opinion to-day would set it above that humourless and over-appendixed story, but it must rank below The New Magdalen and, possibly, also below The Haunted Hotel.
The novels that remain may hardly be classified. Antonina, the story of Ancient Rome, with which in 1850, and following a fashion of the day, he began his novelist's career, is essentially a first book—painstaking, over-elaborate, and dull.
It was succeeded by Mr. Wray's Cash Box (1852), a brief and sentimental tale, mainly interesting for the evidence it provides of Dickens's influence over the young Collins at the very beginning of their long friendship. Those who enjoy hearty Christmas jollity, lovable if ludicrous old age, uncouth fidelity, incompetent villainy, and sweet simple maidenhood will find Mr. Wray's Cash Box pleasant enough.
Basil (1852) and Hide and Seek (1854) are novels of contemporary life, a little sombre, emotionally a little exaggerated. There is a hint of crusading fervour in Basil (against drunken nurses and hospital routine), but the motif is not strong enough to class the book as a propaganda novel. The young author (as many both before and since have done) found stimulus for these books in the pathetic figure of the debauched girl; but she receives at his hands treatment little different from that usually given her by serious neophytes, eager to paint her tragic isolation for the improvement of the novel-reading public.
There is in Hide and Seek an element of interest apart from that of the story itself. Much of the action takes place in a painter's studio, and Collins has full scope for showing his fondness for art, an enthusiasm suitable enough in the son and biographer of a distinguished painter, but somewhat uncommon among novelists of his age. Throughout his work he makes play with knowledge of contemporary painting, displaying decided and on the whole admirable taste, often well in advance of his time.