CHAPTER VII
Maria Edgeworth. Lady Morgan
"My real name is Thady Quirk, though in the family I have always beenknown by no other than 'honest Thady'; afterward, in the time of SirMurtagh, diseased, I remember to hear them calling me 'old Thady,' andnow I'm come to 'poor Thady.'" Thus the faithful servant of the Rackrentfamily introduces himself, before relating the history of the lords ofthe castle, where he and his had lived rent-free time out of mind. Andwhat consummate art Maria Edgeworth showed in her first novel, _CastleRackrent_, in letting "poor Thady" ramble with all the garrulity of oldage. To him, who had never been farther than a day's tramp from thecastle, there was nothing in the world's history but it and its owners.No servant but an Irish servant could have told the story as he did,judging the characters of his masters with shrewd wit and relating theirworst failings with a "God bless them."
And where out of Ireland could Thady have found such masters, ready tospend all they had and another man's too, happy and free, and dying asmerrily as they had lived! There was Sir Patrick, who, as Thady tellsus, "could sit out the best man in Ireland, let alone the threekingdoms"; Sir Kit, who married a Jewess for her money; and Sir Condy,who signed away the estate rather than be bothered to look into hissteward's accounts, and then feigned that he was dead that he might hearwhat his friends said of him at the wake. But he soon came to life, anda merry time they had of it. "But to my mind," says Thady, "Sir Condywas rather upon the sad order in the midst of it all, not finding therewas such a great talk about himself after his death, as he had expectedto hear." But Thady loved his master, and it is with genuine grief thathe records his ultimate death, and with simple and unconscious wit headds, "He had but a very poor funeral after all."
In _The Absentee_, the manners and customs of the Irish peasants aremore broadly delineated than in _Castle Rackrent_. _The Absentee_ waswritten to call the attention of the Irish landlords who were living inEngland to the wretched condition of their tenants left in the power ofunscrupulous stewards. Lord Colambre, the son of Lord Clonbrony, anabsentee, visits his father's estates, which he has not seen for manyyears, in disguise, and goes among the peasants, many of whom are inabject poverty. But the quick generosity of the nation speaks in thepoor Widow O'Neil's "Kindly welcome, sir," with which she opens the doorto the unknown lord, and its enthusiastic loyalty in the joyfulacclamations of the peasants when he reveals himself to them,--a scenewhich Macaulay has pronounced the finest in literature since thetwenty-second book of the _Odyssey_.
_Ennui_ is another of her stories of Irish life, in which the supposedEarl of Glenthorn, after a long residence in England, returns to hisIrish estates. The heroine of this tale is the old nurse, EllinorO'Donoghoe. As the nurses of many stories are said to have done, she hadsubstituted her own child for the rightful heir, and was frantic withjoy when she saw him the master of Glenthorn Castle. Her devotion to theearl is pathetic, and her secret fears of the deception she hadpractised on the old earl may have prompted her strange speech that, ifit pleased God, she would like to die on Christmas Day, of all days,"because the gates of heaven will be open all that day; and who knowsbut a body might slip in unbeknownst?" Ellinor is a woman of manyvirtues and many failings, but she is always pure Celt.
How well contrasted are the two cousins, friends of Ormond, Sir UlickO'Shane, a wily politician and a member of Parliament, and Mr.Cornelius O'Shane, King of the Black Islands, called by his dependentsKing Corny. The latter, bluff, generous, brave, open as the day, is yeta match for his crafty kinsman. Sir Ulick's visit to King Corny is amasterpiece. He has a purpose in his visit and a secret to guard, whichKing Corny is watching to discover. Sir Ulick has been bantering hiskinsman on the old-fashioned customs observed on his estate andridicules his method of ploughing:
"'Your team, I see, is worthy of your tackle,' pursued Sir Ulick. 'Amule, a bull, and two lean horses. I pity the foremost poor devil of ahorse, who must starve in the midst of plenty, while the horse, bull,and even mule, in a string behind him, are all plucking and munging awayat their hay ropes.'
"Cornelius joined in Sir Ulick's laugh, which shortened its duration.
"''Tis comical ploughing, I grant,' said he, 'but still, to my fancy,anything's better and more profitable nor the tragi-comic ploughing youpractise every sason in Dublin.'
"'I?' said Sir Ulick.
"'Ay, you and all your courtiers, ploughing the half-acre, continuallypacing up and down that castle-yard, while you're waiting in attendancethere. Every one to his own taste, but,
"'If there's a man on earth I hate, Attendance and dependence be his fate.'"
King Corny has been studying his diplomatic kinsman carefully to learnhis secret, until the wily politician, by unnecessary caution inguarding it, overreaches himself, when King Corny exclaims to himself:
"Woodcocked! That he has, as I foresaw he would."
While the trained diplomat murmurs as he takes his leave, "All's safe."
Native wit had got the better of artful cunning.
And when Sir Ulick dies in disgrace, how pithy is the remark of one ofthe men, as he is filling in the grave:
"There lies the making of an excellent gentleman--but the cunning of hishead spoiled the goodness of his heart."
In the same book, how generous and how Irish is Moriarty, lying on thebrink of death, as he thinks of Ormond, who had shot him in a fit ofpassion but bitterly repented his rash deed:
"I'd live through all, if possible, for his sake, let alone mymudther's, or shister's or my own--'t would be too bad, after all thetrouble he got these two nights, to be dying at last, and hanting him,maybe, whether I would or no."
The quick kindness which so often twists an Irishman's tongue ishumorously illustrated in the _Essay on Irish Bulls_, which MariaEdgeworth and her father wrote together. Mr. Phelim O'Mooney, disguisedas Sir John Bull, accepts his brother's wager that he cannot remain fourdays in England without the country of his birth being discovered eighttimes. Whenever his speech betrays him, it is the result of hisemotions. When he sees Bourke, a pugilist of his own country, overcomeby an Englishman, he cries to him excitedly: "How are you, my gayfellow? Can you see at all with the eye that is knocked out?" A littlelater, in discussing a certain impost duty, he grows angry and exclaims:"If I had been the English minister, I would have laid the dog-tax uponcats." The humour of his situation increases to a climax, so that thefun never flags. Such stories as this in which the wit is simplysparkling good-nature, with no attempt to use it as a weapon againstfrail humanity as did Fielding and Thackeray, or to produce a smile byexaggeration as did Dickens, but simply bubbling fun, as free from guileas the sun's laughter on Killarney, show that Miss Edgeworth was acomedian of the first rank. Like all true comedians, she is also strongin the pathetic, but it is the Irish pathos, in which there is ever asmile amid the tears. This is found in the story of the return of LadyClonbrony to her own country; the fall of Castle Rackrent; and the ruinby their sudden splendour of the family of Christy O'Donoghoe.
Whenever Miss Edgeworth writes of Ireland and its people, her pages glowwith the inspiration of genius. There is no exaggeration, no caricature;all is told with simple truth. It has often been the fate of novelistswhose aim has been to depict the manners and customs of a locality towin the ill-will of the obscure people they have brought intoprominence. But not so with Maria Edgeworth. Her family, althoughoriginally English, had been settled for two hundred years in Ireland.She loved the country and always wrote of it with a loving pen. Before_Castle Rackrent_ was written, Ireland had been for many centuries anoutcast in literature, known only for her blunders and bulls. But, asone of her characters says, "An Irish bull is always of the head, neverof the heart." Even though her characters are humorous, they are neverclowns. All the men have dignity, and all the women grace. She gave thema respectable place in literature.
But her influence was felt outside of Ireland. Old Thady, in hisgarrulous description of the masters of Castle Rackrent, had introducedthe first na
tional novel, in which the avowed object is to representtraits of national character. Patriotic writers in other countrieslearned through her how to serve their own land, and she was one of themany influences which led to the writing of the Waverley novels. Scottsays in the preface of these books:
"Without being so presumptuous as to hope to emulate the rich humour,pathetic tenderness, and admirable tact which pervade the work of myaccomplished friend, I felt that something might be attempted for my owncountry, of the same kind with that which Miss Edgeworth so fortunatelyachieved for Ireland--something which might introduce her natives tothose of the sister kingdom in a more favourable light than they hadbeen placed hitherto, and tend to procure sympathy for their virtues andindulgence for their foibles."
As the reader realises the power of Maria Edgeworth's mind, her abilityto describe manners and customs, to read character, and to depict comicand tragic scenes, he wishes that her father, Richard Lovell Edgeworth,had not so constantly interfered in her work, and insisted that everybook she wrote must illustrate some principle of education. He was notsingular in this respect. Rousseau, whom he greatly admired at one time,had taught educational methods by a novel. Madame de Genlis, the teacherof Louis Philippe, was writing novels that were celebrated throughoutEurope, in which she expounded rules for the training of the young.Maria Edgeworth, with her father at her elbow, never lost sight of themoral of her tale. Vivian, in the story of that name, was so weak thathe was always at the mercy of the artful. Ormond's passions led him intotrouble. Beauclerc was almost ruined by his foolish generosity. LadyDelacour, with no object in life but pleasure, cast aside her ownhappiness that she might outshine the woman she hated. Lady Clonbronysquandered her fortune and health that she might be snubbed by hersocial superiors. Mrs. Beaumont played a deep diplomatic game in hersmall circle of friends, and finally overreached herself. Lady Cecilia,the friend of Helen, brought sorrow to her and infamy upon herself byher duplicity. In the analysis of motive, and the growth of Cecilia'swrong-doing from a small beginning, the book resembles the novels ofGeorge Eliot. But Maria Edgeworth could not know her own characters asshe otherwise would, because the moral was always uppermost. When Mrs.Inchbald criticised her novel _Patronage_, she replied: "Please torecollect, we had our moral to work out." Mr. Edgeworth, in his prefaceto _Tales of Fashionable Life_, thus sets forth his daughter's purpose:
"It has been my daughter's aim to promote by all her works the progressof education from the cradle to the grave. All the parts of this seriesof moral fiction bear upon the faults and excellencies of differentages and classes; and they have all risen from that view of societywhich we have laid before the public in more didactic works oneducation."
Such a method of writing tended to kill emotion, yet emotion breaks outat times with genuine force, and always has a true ring. This isespecially true in the _Tales of Fashionable Life_. There society womenappear cold and heartless in the drawing-room, and so they havegenerally been represented in fiction. So Thackeray regarded them. ButMaria Edgeworth followed them to the boudoir, and there reveals beneaththe laces and jewels many beautiful womanly traits. As we see in taleafter tale true feeling welling to the surface, and then choked up bythe moral, we recognise the pathetic truth that Mr. Edgeworth'seducational methods were fatal to genius.
But strong emotion sways only a small part of the lives of most men andwomen. Were it otherwise, like the great lyric poets, we should all dieyoung. And she has written about the common, everyday, prosaic life witha truthfulness rarely excelled.
One of the most interesting studies in a novel is to observe theauthor's view of life. With the exception of those of Mademoiselle DeScuderi nearly all the novels of French women considered love as theruling passion for happiness or woe, and all of the characters wereunder its sway. Even Mademoiselle De Scuderi in the preface to _Ibrahim_announced it as her distinct purpose that all her heroes were to beruled by the two most sublime passions, love and ambition; but she was ahumorist and unconsciously interested her readers more by her wittydescriptions of people than by the loves of Cyrus and Mandane. But thispassion has seldom held such an exaggerated place in the stories ofEnglish women. Maria Edgeworth in particular noticed that men and womenwere actuated by many motives or passions. A large income or a title wasoften capable of inspiring a feeling so akin to love that even the bosomthat felt its glow was unable to distinguish the difference. Loss ofrespect could kill the strongest passion, and some of her heroines haveeven remained single, or else married men whom at first they hadregarded with indifference, rather than marry the object of their firstlove after he had forfeited their esteem. Sometimes the tameness of herheroines shocked their author. While correcting _Belinda_ for Mrs.Barbauld's "Novelists' Library," Miss Edgeworth wrote to a friend:
"I really was so provoked with the cold tameness of that stick or stoneBelinda, that I could have torn the pages out."
Propinquity, opportunity, almost a mental suggestion are quite enoughto produce a long chain of events affecting a lifetime. "Ask half themen you are acquainted with why they are married, and their answer, ifthey speak the truth, will be, 'Because I met Miss Such-a-One at such aplace, and we were continually together.' 'Propinquity, propinquity,' asmy father used to say, and he was married five times, and twice toheiresses." So speaks Mrs. Broadhurst, a match-making mother in _TheAbsentee_. And this is the reason why most of Miss Edgeworth's heroesand heroines love. But the advances of a designing woman are quitesufficient, as in _Vivian_, to make a fond lover forget his plightedtroth to another, and the flattery of an unscrupulous man makes himsuspicious of his real friends. Character is destiny, if the characteris strong, but circumstances are destiny, if the character is weak. Itis the aim of her novels to show how certain traits of character, asindecision, pride, love of luxury, indolence, lead to misfortune, andhow these dangerous traits may be overcome.
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Notwithstanding her moral, her plots are never hackneyed and neverrepeated. They are drawn from life and have the variety of life. In thestory of _Ennui_, there is the twice-told tale of the nurse's sonsubstituted for the real heir; but when he learns the true story of hisbirth, and resigns the castle, the title, and all its wealth to therightful Earl of Glenthorn, who has been living in the village workingat the forge, there is a great change from the usual story. The heir ofthe ancient family of Glenthorn accepts the earldom for his son, butwith reluctance. The manners of the peasant remain with the earl, andthe poor man, at last, begs the one who has been educated for theposition to accept the title and the estates. In this she emphasisedagain what she constantly taught, that education and environment aremore powerful than heredity.
As she taught that reason should be the guide of life, so she lived. Herfourscore years and three were spent largely at her ancestral home ofEdgeworthstown. She assisted her father in making improvements to betterthe condition of the tenantry, and to promote their happiness. When inParis, she met a Mr. Edelcrantz, a gentleman in the service of the kingof Sweden. Admiration was succeeded by love. But he could not leave thecourt at Stockholm, and Miss Edgeworth felt that neither duty norinclination would permit her to leave her quiet life in Ireland. Reasonwas stronger than love. So they parted like her own heroes and heroines.All that history records of him is that he never married. She resumedher responsibilities at home, and if the thought of this separationsometimes brought the tears to her eyes, as her stepmother once wroteto a friend, she was as cheerful, gay, and light-hearted in the homecircle as she had always been.
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Besides her moral tales for adults, which were read throughout Europe,Maria Edgeworth was always interested in the education of boys andgirls. The eldest sister in a family of twenty-one children, theoffspring of four marriages, she taught her younger brothers andsisters, and thus grew to know intimately the needs of childhood andwhat stories would appeal to them. As her father wrote, it was her "aimto promote by all her works the progre
ss of education from the cradle tothe grave." In her stories for children she inculcated lessons ofindustry, economy, thoughtfulness, and unselfishness.
If she helped to eradicate from the novel its false, highly coloredsentimental pictures of life, still greater was her work in producingliterature for young people. Hers were among the first wholesome storieswritten for children. Before this the chapman had carried about with himin his pack small paper-covered books which warned boys and girls of thedangers of a life of crime. One book was named _An hundred godly lessonswhich a mother on her death-bed gave to her children_. Another book ofreligious and moral Sunday reading was called _The Afflicted Parent, orthe Undutiful Child Punished_. This gives the sad history of the twochildren of a gentleman in Chester, a son and a daughter. The daughterchided her brother for his wickedness, upon which he struck her andkilled her. He was hanged for this, but even then his punishment was notcompleted. He came back to life, told the minister several wicked deedswhich he had committed, and was hanged a second time. In most of thesetales the gallows loomed dark and threatening.
* * * * *
In contrast to these morbid tales are the wholesome stories of MariaEdgeworth. The boys and girls about whom she writes are drawn from life.If they are bad, their crimes are never enormous, but simply a yieldingto the common temptations of childhood. Hal, in _Waste Not, Want Not_,thinks economy beneath a gentleman's notice, and at last loses a prizein an archery contest for lack of a piece of string which he haddestroyed. Fisher in _The Barring Out_, a cowardly boy, buys twelve bunsfor himself with a half-crown which belonged to his friend, and thengives a false account of the money. His punishment is expulsion from theschool. Lazy Lawrence has a worse fate. He will not work, plays pitchfarthing, is led by bad companions to steal, and is sent to Bridewell.But he is not left in a hopeless condition. After he had served his termof imprisonment he became remarkable for his industry.
But there are more good boys and girls than bad ones in her stories. Thelove of children for their parents, and the sacrifices they will makefor those they love, are beautifully told. In the story of _TheOrphans_, Mary, a girl of twelve, finds a home for her brothers andsisters, after her father and mother die, in the ruins of RossmoreCastle, where they support themselves by their labour. Mary finds thatshe can make shoes of cloth with soles of platted hemp, and by thisindustry the children earn enough for all their needs. As directions aregiven for making these shoes, any little girl reading the story wouldknow how to follow the example of Mary. Jem in the story of _LazyLawrence_ finds that there are many ways by which he can earn the twoguineas without which his horse Lightfoot must be sold. He works earlyand late, and at last accomplishes his purpose.
Mrs. Ritchie says of this story: "Lightfoot deserves to take his humbleplace among the immortal winged steeds of mythology along with Pegasus,or with Black Bess, or Balaam's Ass, or any other celebrated steeds."
The story of _Simple Susan_ with its pictures of village life has thecharm of an idyl. The children by the hawthorn bush choosing their MayQueen; Susan with true heroism refusing this honour, in order that shemay care for her sick mother; the incident of the guinea-hen; Rose'slove for Susan; the old harper, playing tunes to the children groupedabout him--are all simply told. Susan's love for her pet lamb remindsone of Wordsworth's poem of that name.
And yet these children are not unusual. Most boys and girls have dayswhen they are as good as Mary, or Jem, or Susan. Maria Edgeworth is notinculcating virtues which are impossible of attainment.
A hundred years ago, these stories, as they came from the pen of MariaEdgeworth, delighted boys and girls, and for at least fifty years wereread by parents and children. Then for a time they were hidden inlibraries, but a collection of them has lately been edited by Mr.Charles Welsh under the appropriate title _Tales that never Die_, whichhave proved as interesting to the children of to-day as to those ofby-gone generations.
Whether Maria Edgeworth is writing for old or young, there is one markedtrait in all her stories, her kind feeling for all humanity. The vicesof her villains are recorded in a tone of sorrow. She seldom usessatire; never "makes fun" of her characters. Her attitude towards themis that of the lady of Edgeworthstown towards her dependents, or ratherthat of the elder sister towards the younger members of the family. Suchbroad and loving sympathy is found in Shakespeare and Scott, but seldomamong lesser writers.
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In Sydney Owenson, better known by her married name of Lady Morgan,Ireland found at this time another warm but less judicious friend. Herlife was more interesting than her books. Her father, an Irish actor,introduced his daughter, while yet a child, to his associates, so thatshe appeared in society at an early age. But Mr. Owenson wasimprovident; debts accumulated, and Sydney at the age of fourteen beganto earn her own living. The position of a governess, which she filledfor a time, being unsuited to her gay, independent disposition, shebegan to write. Like Johnson a half century or more earlier, with a playin manuscript as her most valuable possession, she went alone to London.She did not wait so long as he did for recognition. New books by newauthors were eagerly read. She earned money, a social position, fame,and with it some disagreeable notoriety. An independent, witty Irishwoman of great charm, fearless in expressing her opinions, who hadintroduced herself into society and for whom nobody stood as sponsor,was looked upon by the old-fashioned English aristocracy as anadventuress; and later, when she came forth as the champion of Irishliberties, and upbraided England for tyranny, she was maliciouslydenounced by the Tory party.
She entered upon life with three purposes, to each of which she adhered:to advocate the interest of Ireland by her writings; to pay her father'sdebts; and to provide for his old age. All of these purposes sheaccomplished.
Besides plays and poems, and two or three insignificant stories, shewrote four novels upon Irish subjects: _The Wild Irish Girl_,_O'Donnel_, _Florence Macarthy_, and _The O'Briens and the O'Flahertys_.In all these books the beauty of Irish scenery is depicted asbackground; the fashionable life of Dublin is described, as well as thepeasant life in remote hamlets; while the natural resources of the landand the native gaiety of the Celtic temperament are feelingly contrastedwith the poverty and misery brought about by unjust laws.
She thus feelingly describes the condition of Ireland in the novel_O'Donnel_. Its sincerity must excuse its overwrought style: "Silenceand oblivion hung upon her destiny, and in the memory of other nationsshe seemed to hold no place; but the first bolt which was knocked offher chain roused her from paralysis, and, as link fell after link, herfaculties strengthened, her powers revived; she gradually rose upon thepolitical horizon of Europe, like her own star brightening in the west,and lifting its light above the fogs, vapours, and clouds, whichobscured its lustre. The traveller now beheld her from afar, and hershores, once so devoutly pressed by the learned, the pious, and thebrave, again exhibited the welcome track of the stranger's foot. Thenatural beauties of the land were again explored and discovered, andtaste and science found the reward of their enterprise and labours in acountry long depicted as savage, because it had long been exposed todesolation and neglect."
In this book a party of travellers visits the Giant's Causeway and itsscenery is described as an almost unfrequented place.
The new interest in Ireland of which she writes was very largely due tothe novels of Maria Edgeworth, and partly to those of Lady Morganherself.
Her last novel, _The O'Briens and the O'Flahertys_, is of historicvalue. Its plot was furnished by the stirring events which took placewhen the Society of United Irishmen were fighting for parliamentaryreforms. Lord Edward Fitzgerald, the devoted patriot, is easilyrecognised in the brave Lord Walter Fitzwalter, and the life of ThomasCorbet furnished the thrilling adventures of the hero, Lord Arranmore.When Thomas Moore visited Thomas Corbet at Caen he referred to theaccount given of his escape from prison in Lady Morgan's novel asremarkably accurate in its details.
&nb
sp; The style of Miss Owenson's earlier books was execrable and fullyjustified the severe criticism in the first number of the _QuarterlyReview_. It gives this quotation from _Ida, or the Woman of Athens_:"Like Aurora, the extremities of her delicate limbs were rosed withflowing hues, and her little foot, as it pressed its naked beauty on ascarlet cushion, resembled that of a youthful Thetis from its blushingtints, or that of a fugitive Atalanta from its height." The wonder isthat any serious magazine should have wasted two pages of space uponsuch nonsense. In ridiculing the book and the author, it gives her someserious advice, with the encouragement that if she follow it, she maybecome, not a writer of novels, but the happy mistress of a family.
Whether Lady Morgan took this ill-meant advice or not, her styleimproved with each book, until in _The O'Briens and the O'Flahertys_ itbecame simple and clear, with only an occasional tendency to highcolouring and bombast.
Maria Edgeworth has described the customs and manners of Ireland, andunfolded the character of its people in a manner that has never beenequalled. But Lady Morgan, far inferior as an artist, has given fullerand more picturesque descriptions of the landscape of the country, andhas made a valuable addition to the books bearing on the history ofIreland.
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