MRS. STODDARD'S NOVELS
. . . as if they were real—perhaps they are." By the rule of her own nature, Mrs. Stoddard was among the first to break away from a prevailing false sentiment, to paint "things seen" as they are—to suggest the unseen as it must be.
But that her stories of human life, in a downeast village port, are "realistic," and were so in the adverse time of their first appearance, is not their vital claim. For they are "romantic," none the less, and often impassioned. I find little profit in the jealous conflict waged as to the values of the so-called realistic and romantic schools; save that it has brought out some good criticism, and that every such warfare is stimulating to both sides. Otherwise, it is chiefly an expression of one's taste or distaste for certain writers, or his opinion that too persistent fashions should in their turns give way. Often it is a dispute or confusion as to the meaning of a word. For who can doubt that art, to be of worth, must never be an abject copyist, yet should have its basis in life as it is and things as they are,—or that impassioned speech and action must be natural even in their intensity? Who does not feel that the most daring idealism must keep within the possibilities, as we conceive them, of nature; that Romance, with the bird of the Danish proverb, though soaring high, must seek its food on earth? Away then, like the author of these novels, from the mouthing, the stilted talk, the sentimentalism, of a pseudo-romantic school. On the other hand, of what value is a realistic work, with no strong personality behind it? The true question is—how much of
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