SOURCE: “An Analysis of Miss Sedgwick's Novels,” in Catharine Maria Sedgwick: Her Position in the Literature and Thought of Her Time Up to 1860, Catholic University of America, 1937, pp. 21-34.

[In the following essay, Welsh offers an overview of Sedgwick's best known novels, including A New England Tale, Hope Leslie, and The Linwoods.]

Since it would hardly serve any great purpose to consider the work of Miss Sedgwick chronologically, it seems better to examine her work by forms. In the matter of importance her novels come first. It is through her six novels that she is best known by the critics of American literature. Especially important are Hope Leslie, 1827, and The Linwoods, 1835; but the analysis will proceed not according to their importance, but in the order of their publication. The plan is to give a brief summary of the plot, then, to consider the various elements contained in each novel, and, finally, to apply these elements to the generally accepted standards of novel construction.

A NEW ENGLAND TALE

Her first novel, A New England Tale, 1822, is set in her own familiar Berkshires. Here she was perfectly at home; she knew the country and she understood the people. Her thorough knowledge of New England characters, and her complete understanding of their strength and weakness were powerful aids in the development of her tale, and in this respect she far surpasses the skill of Maria Edgeworth, who wrote of a locale to which she was alien. The story was written shortly after Miss Sedgwick's renunciation of Calvinism and her acceptance of the new Unitarianism. The pharisaical judgments of some of her neighbors had given her considerable annoyance, and she wrote the tale with the hope of acquainting them, through delightful satire, with the fact that the religious motives and sentiments of some of their number were sometimes actuated by hypocrisy.

Her intention when she began to write the tale was to produce a simple tract for Sunday school classes, but as she wrote she became so interested in the work that she continued adding further incidents until it had outgrown the length of the sketch she had intended and had reached the proportions of a novel. It is always placed with her novels but, strictly speaking, it is more correctly a tale as the author herself designates it in her title. Briefly, the plot is this: Jane Elton, a twelve year old girl, is a destitute orphan. Her three maternal aunts try to shift responsibility in adopting her. Crazy Bet, a town character, upbraids them. Thus the author has used Crazy Bet as a means of castigating the Puritanical character. The only sincere friend of the orphan is Mary Hull, a servant, who is the example of genuine charity and sterling piety. There are three men: Mr. Lloyd, a Quaker of sound principle; Mr. Erskine, weak and vacillating; and David Wilson, hypocrite and libertine. The story ends in the happy marriage of Jane and Mr. Lloyd.

The material of this novel is familiar and the treatment idealistic. It is not romantic in the sense of history or of customs, but there is a small touch of the Gothic element. The plot is simple with but little interest—what interest is there is in the didactic purpose. There is a seduction incident, a little more hideous in its consequences than those incidents found in similar novels of the day. There is also a duel. Poetic justice is meted out to evil doers and the virtuous are rewarded. With the exception of Mrs. Wilson, the characters are not self-revealing; they do not stand out. The narration is fair—somewhat impeded by the ever-present desire to satirize and preach. The unity of impression is blurred by too many unnecessary details not vitally connected. There is a definite harmony between the characters and the material, but the balance among the characters themselves is sadly lacking. Jane is too good; the Wilson girls are too bad. The integrity of Mr. Lloyd far outweighs the rascality of David Wilson. There is no organic rhythm to the book—no proportion. Too much attention is given to one aunt with but a passing reference to the other two. There is no particular quality of style, and the method is a form, occasionally that of letters, too well-worn at that time to be considered worth while. The whole story is so positively didactic, so replete with satire, that no memorable reading of life comes down to us.

Yet this novel was a success—financially speaking. In spite of this fact Miss Sedgwick was loathe to rush into a literary career. She made no pretensions to authorship. Her novel, she said, was not for the erudite of Boston, but for the young and the humble. The tale, however, was a daring adventure in satirizing the accepted religion of the place and period. The author showed courage in publishing it. The book was later reprinted in England and translated into German. To the literary historian it is of interest both because of its being her first novel and because of its setting forth the material in which she was later to do her best work.

REDWOOD

Two years afterwards, 1824, the second novel Redwood appeared. This was a tale of domestic life and dealt with such events that ordinarily occur in all well-regulated communities. The treatment of this material is a vivid idealization, and the result, an unusual amount of interest.

Mr. Redwood and his daughter, Caroline, arrive in the midst of an electric storm at a little town in Vermont. Redwood has his arm broken when his frightened horses wreck the carriage. Mr. Lennox and his sister, Aunt Debby, offer him the hospitality of their house. While Redwood is convalescing the plot develops.

Redwood, when young, was a high-principled man but he lost his religion and morality through his association with an atheist. In this state he had contracted a clandestine marriage with Mary Erwine, a pious governess, but socially inferior. His father insisted on his marrying a rich girl—his cousin. He broke with Mary and his infidelity killed her. He knew nothing of her death until he reached Rome. On his return he married his cousin who lived but a few years. Before she died she left him a daughter, Caroline, who grew to be the epitome of the social uselessness of the time.

In the Lennox family there was an Ellen Bruce. Ellen was all that a model ward should be, but there is in addition an air of mystery about her. She owns a casket which is not to be opened until she is twenty-one.

Other visitors appear at the Lennox household. The two Shakers, Susan Allen and her niece Emily, make a fleeting visit, leaving a sense of future tragedy in their wake. The Westalls, mother and son, stop on their return to Virginia. Redwood and Mrs. Westall are anxious to arrange a marriage between their children. This marriage would please Caroline, but Charles Westall's choice rests on Ellen Bruce.

The meeting at Lebanon Springs of all the principal characters brings the story to a rapid conclusion. Caroline elopes with an English officer, Ellen Bruce turns out to be the daughter of Redwood and Mary Erwine, Mr. Redwood regains his lost faith, Charles Westall marries Ellen, and Aunt Debby rescues Emily from the influence of the Shakers.

The plot, easily penetrated at the outset, is, nevertheless, filled with many complications, and the general effect is that it holds the interest.

The character development is exceptionally good. The proud, selfish, envious Caroline is thoroughly revealed to us, and toward the end she shows some good development. The gentle, generous, trustful character of Ellen Bruce is perhaps too good to be real, but the contrast between her and Caroline is convincing. So, too, is the contrast between Susan Allen and her niece Emily. Above all, though, Aunt Debby Lennox stands out—practical, childlike, yet wise in the ways of the world, a counsellor to the needy—a character unique in American literature at that time. These women are far superior to the women we find in Cooper's novels at the same date.

The narrative is good—better than that of the contemporary women writers. The unity is strong yet relieved by variety of interests all held in restraint. The story is in harmony with the setting, and the balance of characters and groups of characters is acceptable. The story lacks an appreciable rhythm, but the proportion of the book is excellent. There is as yet no evidence of a distinct style—no lyric quality, and the method Miss Sedgwick follows is one found in almost every contemporary novel. Deep pathos pervades some parts of the story, while others display a keen sense of humor. The dialogue is easy, natural, and appropriate.

The mystery surrounding Ellen's birth, the casket which she may not open, the meeting with her father under such peculiar circumstances—all seem extraordinary. These are, however, in accordance with the style of the fiction of the period. Sir Walter Scott and Miss Edgeworth made use of such expedients, and the readers of the day accepted them without question.

The moral, which is a religious one, is well worked into the texture of the story and does not stare officiously from its pages. Miss Sedgwick shows how plentiful and how valuable are the materials to be found in the lives of her people, and how readily they adapt themselves to the pages of fiction. The story is decidedly romantic in its descriptions of scenery, and this romance is deepened by many of the incidents—the electric storm, the accident at the lake, the abduction, and the imprisonment in the hut of the Indian. The sentimentality of the author's predecessors is apparent, too, in the secret marriage of Mary Erwine and in Redwood's desertion of her. The incident of the visits of Ellen to the blind child and the operation which gave her sight, is used some years later by Mrs. Augusta Evans Wilson in St. Elmo, 1835.

The novel was reprinted in England and translated into French. A notice of Redwood in The Constitionnel, a Paris newspaper, attributed the authorship to Cooper.

HOPE LESLIE

Redwood, 1824, was followed by Hope Leslie; or, Early Times in Massachusetts, 1827. This novel, an historical one, was probably suggested by a review of Redwood which appeared in the North American Review, after the publication of that novel. While commending Redwood, the review points out the wonderful material available to the writer who would go back to the infancy of the colonies, to the fearless lives of the pioneers, the unknown terrors of the forests, and the mingled kindness and treachery of the savage tribes by whom the settlers were surrounded.¹

The plot was suggested by an incident connected with the Indian massacre at Deerfield, Massachusetts. A young girl was taken captive by the Indians and married to a chief. She was, after some years, discovered by her relatives; but she refused to return to them, preferring to remain with her Indian husband.

Springfield, Massachusetts, and the city of Boston are used as the chief settings for the novel. William Fletcher, confident of the safety of his little family, leaves his wife and two sons in Springfield while he travels to Boston to meet his cousin, Mrs. Leslie, who is arriving from England. When the vessel reaches port, he learns that Mrs. Leslie died at sea, leaving her two little daughters, Faith and Hope, to his guardianship. He is obliged to remain in Boston for some days but sends Faith to Springfield, keeping Hope with him. Shortly after Faith arrives at the settlement, the father of two young Indians held in service at the Fletcher homestead, attacks the family, kills Mrs. Fletcher and her infant son, and takes Faith and Mrs. Fletcher's elder son, Everell, captive with the intention of sacrificing him. As the ax descends to take his life, Everell is saved by Magawisca, the chief's daughter, who, like Pocahontas, throws herself between him and the ax and receives the blow which severs her arm.

After Everell's escape the story passes over the intervening years to present Everell and Hope grown to manhood and womanhood. The scene changes to Boston. Here in a few months events throng thick and fast upon one another. Hope meets her sister Faith; but the meeting is interrupted by the villain of the story, Sir Philip Gardiner, who leads a guard to the meeting place and takes captive Magawisca, who accompanied Faith. Oneco, Faith's Indian husband, and the old chief Ononotto then take Hope prisoner, believing she has acted as a decoy. Hope evades them and is rescued by an Italian sailor who supposes her to be his patron saint. Magawisca is tried for conspiracy, and in this trial occurs the most tragic scene introduced in an American novel up to this period. Here in open court the Indian maiden produces the crucifix dropped by Gardiner and asks him to swear upon it to the truth of his statements.

Faith steals back to her Indian husband. Hope plans the escape of Magawisca by disguising her in the clothes of her old tutor whom she leaves in the cell in her stead, knowing the gentle old man will not be made to suffer. The awful catastrophe of the blowing up of the vessel on which Gardiner had planned to carry off Hope ends the story. All the evil ones meet their punishment in the explosion, and the good are safe from their further machinations. Everell and Hope, as is expected, are happily married.

The novel is decidedly romantic. The author has used material that is historical and has treated it idealistically. On several occasions the sentiment of terror adds a Gothic touch. The plot does not stand out; it is so involved in minor plots, that the main one is, at times, obscured. These minor incidents, however, are all so stirring and thrilling that the interest aroused is intense. Hope's escape, first from the Indians, then from the outlaws, and finally from the treachery of Sir Philip Gardiner—all keep alive the interest awakened at the beginning of the novel when the massacre occurred. The characters are too strongly idealized. In Magawisca we have a high idealization of the Indian, but the character seems overdrawn. Both Everell and Hope are also idealized. They hold too perfectly to a happy mean, scarcely attainable at their age and period. The Puritan character is presented in a more favorable light than in A New England Tale. Governor Winthrop and Mr. Fletcher, though strict adherents, are both free from the blight of Puritan severity. The story is told in an easy, familiar style, with few interruptions for the sake of sermonizing, and with frequent passages of subtle humor. Again, the author rises to the heights of eloquence, as in Magawisca's dramatic trial scene. The narration will bear comparison with that of any other writer of the time. Even with the numerous incidents, many so vivid that they almost hide the chief plot, the unity of the story is intact; and a strong restraining influence is exercised. The harmony between characters is perfect. The story is quite in keeping with the setting, and thus, harmony is preserved. The author appears to leave, to some extent at least, the more open didacticism of her predecessors, and writes in a smooth, natural style. Miss Sedgwick gives evidence of much originality in this novel. Her introduction of the crucifix and Hope's rescue of Magawisca are incidents new to the American novel. For these she had no precedent.

CLARENCE; OR A TALE OF OUR OWN TIMES

Three years after the publication of Hope Leslie, in 1830, Clarence appeared.

The story begins with the friendship established between Mr. Flavel, an aged man, and Frank Carroll, an attractive young boy. The old man becomes ill, and Frank persuades his parents to take him into their house, to nurse him through his illness. Flavel, whose real name is Clarence, turns out to be the father of Mr. Carroll and the grandfather of Frank. When a young child, Mr. Carroll had been lost through the villainy of John Smith, a clerk, to whom Clarence had entrusted him. Flavel dies shortly after the relationship has been established and leaves his immense wealth to Mr. Carroll who from now on is known by his true name of Clarence. The happiness of becoming the possessor of this fortune is changed to grief when Frank dies suddenly.

The tenth chapter really begins the plot. The tale is rather complicated, presenting two pairs of lovers, Gerald Roscoe and Gertrude Clarence; Emilie Layton and Randolph Marion, whose love affairs run anything but smoothly. Two villains, John Smith, the faithless clerk, and Pedrillo, an adventurer, masquerading as a wealthy gentleman, add to the complication of the plot.

Mr. Clarence and his daughter move to their country house. Here they meet Mrs. Layton. She is a cultured woman of the world, but one who does not hesitate to sacrifice her daughter's happiness in order to avoid the loss of their wealth. This daughter, Emilie, is a lovable girl; and the idea of her marriage with the adventurer, Pedrillo, is most repugnant. Louis Seton, the timid, sensitive artist, deeply in love with Gertrude Clarence, is also introduced.

In the second part of the novel, the scene changes to New York City and city life is vividly and truly described throughout the remainder of the book. The author's own life was spent partly in the country and partly in the city and her affections seem to be equally divided between the two. She is one of the first to indicate clearly the city, as such, in the novel, Hugh Breckenridge and Charles Brockden Brown alone preceding her. The attitude of city life interested her, and she was the first to present real social situations as they are found actually existing in the city. The first real account of a church service in a novel occurs in Clarence.

She is one of the first to introduce into a novel an incident that permits her to express her sentiments and those of her contemporaries regarding the folly of duelling.

In spite of the romanticism of Clarence, the novel presents in its descriptions of social life in New York City, a realism that is true and accurate in all its details. Different grades of society are depicted: the newly rich with their over-crowded, gaudily furnished rooms; the intolerant many, who, sure of their own position in society, scorn their less fortunate neighbors who are seeking entrance; the genuinely refined, who, although bereft of their fortunes, still retain their graciousness and culture.

There is also in Clarence a condemnation of the shallowness of the city's social standards. It is an indictment against the artificiality of fashionable life. A fine sarcasm prevails.

Clarence, though one of the most romantic of Miss Sedgwick's novels, is developed from material thoroughly realistic. Scenes depicting the most extravagant romance are, however, generously sprinkled throughout the novel. As is usual with the author, she has so deluged her story with interesting events, that, while the plot itself seems weakened, it is never lost sight of; although it runs along in danger of eclipse by some of the minor plots. The novel is strong in character portrayal, but lacks character development. All are either good or bad at the beginning, and the good remain unchanged; while the bad become more wicked as the plot develops. Yet, the characters are splendidly drawn and are individuals, not types. Mrs. Layton is beautiful, polished, charming, yet so selfish she would sacrifice everything and everyone to satisfy her slightest whim. Gertrude Clarence is in direct contrast to Mrs. Layton. Gertrude is not beautiful, but charming in her simplicity, her honesty, and her goodness. She is willing to sacrifice herself in order to bring comfort to others. Gerald Roscoe corresponds in character to Gertrude and forms a marked contrast to the dishonest profligate, Pedrillo. The narration is splendid. The story abounds in effective, appropriate dialogues; and the depression some sections of the novel would produce is tempered by a tactful introduction of mild humor. The unity of impression is weak, owing chiefly to the strength of minor plots. While these incidents seem to confuse those of the chief plot, they furnish, nevertheless, a restraint that excites interest. The contrast in characters makes for harmony and presents a perfect balance. In this novel, the author makes her nearest approach to lyrical style. She makes frequent use of the epistolary Richardsonian method to bring events up to date, and in these letters she excels. In adopting this style she is in keeping with the writers of her time, but takes the initiative in introducing new incidents—church services and duelling.

Interwoven side by side are the romantic and the dramatic. Miss Sedgwick has not forgotten her purpose in writing which was both to entertain and to instruct. Throughout the book she has injected, quietly and effectively, the moral she wished to instill. One lesson which she brings home very strongly is that one's death depends upon the life the individual has led. This is brought out very plainly in the contrast between the death of Pedrillo and that of Seton.

THE LINWOODS; OR SIXTY YEARS SINCE IN AMERICA

Five years elapsed after the publication of Clarence, 1830, before Miss Sedgwick gave to the public another novel. This was The Linwoods; or Sixty Years Since in America, 1835, an historical romance which carries the reader back sixty years to the stirring events of the Revolution. The scene is laid in New York, but the New England farm life is introduced in the home of Eliot Lee and his sister Bessie. In Clarence, the New York of the 1830's plays an important rôle, while The Linwoods acquaints the reader with the colonial city of the Dutch settlement.

The review of Redwood already referred to, published in the North American Review in 1825, seems to have suggested the writing of The Linwoods as well as the writing of Hope Leslie.

The Review calls attention to the wealth of material open to writers of fiction, if they would go back to the incidents of the Revolution; to the policies that divided families and separated friends; and to the volunteers who came from foreign shores to aid the struggling colonists.

Although The Linwoods was not written until ten years after this Review, it seems probable that it had its influence on the creation of this novel; for all the incidents suggested in it are made use of by Miss Sedgwick. She does not, however, go deeply into the events of the war, nor bring out as heroes our great historic figures. General Washington is introduced several times but he is by no means the principal character. The reader meets Lafayette but he disappears before one really knows he is there. General Putnam, also, opportunely arrives at the decisive moment only to be lost sight of immediately. Mrs. Washington appears for the first time in a novel and delights the reader with her kindly manner and her gracious aid in assisting with the wedding preparations of Eliot Lee, the hero of the romance. The mercenary and military adventures so scorned by the Rebels have their place in the story; the Tory also plays his part. The nobility of the colonists in their privations and sufferings endured so uncomplainingly, is contrasted with the selfishness and feastings of the enemy.

The very first chapter of the book introduces the chief characters; Bessie Lee, the daughter of a New England farmer, Isabella Linwood and her brother Herbert, children of a wealthy Tory, and Jasper Meredith, the friend of young Linwood. When the war opens, Herbert Linwood, in opposition to the command of his father, joins the rebel forces and is disowned in consequence. Eliot Lee becomes an officer and is in close attendance on General Washington. Bessie Lee, deceived by Jasper Meredith, gradually becomes mad and wanders from her New England home to New York to return his trinkets to him, believing that by doing so she will be freed from the love she has had for him. Here at the close of the war all are united and, as usual, rewarded or punished as poetic justice demands. Throughout the story one exciting event follows another, so that there is not a dull moment to be disposed of.

As usual Miss Sedgwick is not strong in building up her plot. Incidents without number are gathered around it. This is true of The Linwoods as well as of all her other novels. This does not, however, seem to detract from the interest of the plot but rather adds to it, for the author is always felicitous in her selection of incidents, and so ingenious in weaving them into the story that one overlooks the lack of plot unity.

Again, as is usual with Miss Sedgwick, the women characters are exceedingly well-drawn. The heroine, Isabella Linwood, is an excellent character, beautiful, intelligent, loyal—lovable in every way. The gentle, trusting Bessie Lee is a most pathetic figure. The beautiful traitorous Ruthven sisters present a woeful contrast with their miserable duplicity. Herbert Linwood and Eliot Lee are noble types of colonial youths, while Jasper Meredith may well be placed in the same category with the Ruthven girls. All these characters are real; the only suggestion of idealization is in Eliot Lee, or in the devotion to Eliot of the poor unfortunate Kissel. The story is told in a fascinating manner. Incidents crowd in such quick succession and from such unsuspected sources that, while the interest is intense, the unity of impression is sometimes marred. Naturally the many changes in these minor events provide a restraining influence. There is always harmony between characters and settings, whether these be the New England farm house or the Clinton mansion. Miss Sedgwick's use of contrast inevitably tends to balance in characters—a balance that she preserves in all her novels. The same simple ease in writing which seems natural to the author is evident here. Letters are frequently used to advance the plot and explain situations. The proportion is good, although prominent historical figures are lightly passed over. In this Miss Sedgwick is probably influenced by Scott, in giving minor places to these characters. Her purpose is didactic, for she states in her Preface that she is presenting this picture of the sufferings of their ancestors in the hope that her young readers may be faithful to the free institutions transmitted to them. In spite of this, however, one could not call the novel really didactic. Miss Sedgwick is unique in being the first to introduce Mrs. Washington into a novel.

MARRIED OR SINGLE?

Passing over her didactic tales for the present, we go on to her last novel which was not published until twenty-two years later. In 1857, however, she produced another novel entitled Married or Single? In her Preface to this story the author openly proclaims her purpose in writing. She says that it is a woman's right to shape her own course and that she would feel that the novel had not been written in vain if it did anything to lessen the stigma attached by the vulgar to the title of “old maid.”

As a novel it does not bear comparison with either The Linwoods or Hope Leslie. The author has piled into the tale all kinds of incidents and grouped them together in this story. There are several pairs of lovers, three or four characters with a mysterious past, a seduction with its usual tragedy in the death of the victim, the inevitable triangle, and a young man unjustly imprisoned for forgery. The main theme of the novel is a woman's right to enjoy an independent life.

Grace Herbert, the heroine of the story, after discovering the villainy of Copeland, her betrothed, determines to lead a single life. She proves her ability to support herself although her girlhood had been passed in a home of wealth. Her resolution to remain single weakens when she finds that she is loved by Archibald Lisle, an ideal character and the hero of the novel. The tale leaves her at twenty-three years of age betrothed to the hero with the promise of a happy life before her.

There are many passages in the novel, however, that give the reader much knowledge of the author's philosophy of life, and her position on some of the questions of the day. There is a little satire on transcendentalism which shows her lack of confidence in this philosophy. She places this term in the mouth of one of her characters to designate anything he cannot explain—its meaning seems to be obscure and cloudy. The uncultured wealthy, who invite friends to see their portraits painted by one of the old masters, come in for their share of the satire. The introduction of the runaway slave and her little child afford an opportunity for expressing her sentiments about this question.

There are so many plots in this story, it is difficult to determine just which is the real one. The love story of Archibald Lisle and Grace Herbert, however, appears to be the principal one, and their experiences which end in their final union constitute the plot. The characters, like the plots, are numerous, and are of all kinds. Miss Sedgwick fails to make her woman characters convincing, as she has done in her earlier novels. Her idealization of hero and heroine has resulted in rendering both rather vapid. No particular character in the book stands out. Her narration is excellent, for she is a finished story-teller; and even in an inferior tale, can hold the interest of the reader. Unity of impression is lacking, however, lost in the multiplicity of minor plots which obscure the main issue. The restraint is too forced. There is a certain harmony between characters and material, but balance among the characters is wanting. The good far exceed all others, and the villain, Copeland, stands absolutely alone. The book lacks proportion, many of the minor plots exceeding the interest of the main plot. There is no particular style to the writing—the author does not appear to have acquired any special style. Nor does this tale exhibit any originality of method; it follows her usual manner, weaving incidents around a group of characters. At times, these incidents seem introduced simply because the author wanted to write about them, not that they aided the plot.

As a novel, the work is a failure. Its value and importance lie in the fact that it helps to place the author in the issues of her day, since she has given expression to her sentiments regarding many current questions.

Summing up this analysis of her novels, we find that while her material has been divided between the familiar and the historical, the treatment has been invariably idealistic. This is quite in keeping with the authors of her day. We find, however, that her plot construction, with the exception of the last novel, improves with each new one; but that intrigue and complications tend toward obscuring the unity of impression so much desired. In this particular, Miss Sedgwick ranks on a par with most of her contemporaries, but is inferior to both Cooper and Simms.

Her best characterization comes out in her second novel, Redwood, in the personage of Aunt Debby Lennox. A comparison of Miss Sedgwick's characterizations with those of Cooper will show, especially in regard to women, a far more human group of heroines. But not even Aunt Debby can be classified in the same category with Harvey Birch, Long Tom Coffin, or Natty Bumpo.

It seems safe to say that Miss Sedgwick's dialogue is the equal of the best of her contemporaries, and that for the most part it maintains a consistent level of excellence.

Another interesting point lies in her inventiveness. She is particularly rich in adding unique situations and incidents to her stories, and in this respect she has anticipated Cooper, Dickens, Motley, and the Brontes. Seldom does she look forward to the newer realism. All too frequently she looks backward to the sentimentalism and the Gothic materials of an earlier time.

That she is something of a social historian is apparent in Clarence. Although she was not a pioneer in the social materials of city life, still she did far better work in that field than any other writer up to the coming of Willis in his Paul Fane.

The ever prevailing shadow of didacticism is over her work, and for this reason alone her novels make no appeal to the modern reader. In almost every other respect she takes her place in the literary world among such early novelists as Cooper, Neale, Bird, Simms, Cooke, Willis, and Holmes. The didacticism which kills our interest in her novels marked her as an author whose work was in great demand in the journals and publications of her day. Her faults were the faults of the age.

Note

1. North American Review, “Review of Redwood” (Boston, 1825), XX, 245.