| This blog explores social attitudes in Jane Austen's time, discusses her novels, reviews forgotten 18th century novels, and throws some occasional shade at the modern academy. The introductory post is here. My "six simple questions for academics" post is here. Spoilers abound in my discussion of these forgotten novels, and I discuss 18th-century attitudes which I do not necessarily endorse. |
Chatgpt illustration In the first volume, we meet a lot of characters, and I always struggle when an author throws a lot of characters at me and I’m supposed to remember their names and who they are. Speaking of, apart from the complicated set-up of Sense and Sensibility, Austen’s most 18th-century-sounding novel, is Austen good at introducing her characters in a natural and engaging way, or what?
However, I’ll give Eliza Taylor full credit for not introducing irrelevant or extraneous characters, a common fault of novelists of this period. At first I couldn’t understand why Elizabeth acquires at least five suitors, but every character has some role to play in the plot eventually; we do not have the typical galaxy of comic characters who are simply there to populate the heroine’s world and illustrate some prevailing vice or folly...
ChatGPT generated portrait So, as briefly as I can: we have the Beverly family, consisting of a widowed retired naval captain, his three lovely daughters and his older step-daughter who grew up with an aunt; and the Darnley family consisting of a widowed clergyman, his two sons and his two daughters. The two main heroines are Elizabeth Beverly and her friend Matilda Darnley. The sly, insinuating stepsister, Louisa Proteus, manages to filch one of Elizabeth’s suitors and poison the mind of another against her, in addition to interfering in her eventual marriage.
The lovely and devout Matilda is courted by an extravagantly romantic young army officer but she accepts her father’s verdict that he would be unsuitable for her. The suitor justifies the father’s caution when he tries to blow his brains out in front of her when she turns down his marriage proposal. We are told he got that way by reading too many novels, following the bad example set by his mother. (Sidenote: did you know the poet Shelley threatened to kill himself when William Godwin told him to stay away from his daughter Mary, and that he was a great novel-reader?)
“Education” is the main title of the story and the lesson the author intends to convey is the importance of giving your children the right kind of moral education. I earlier did a series on how prevalent the theme of education and female education is in the novels of this era, and here is a prime example.
You must educate your daughters properly, train their virtues, curb their faults, and stock their brains with inner resources, which will render women a useful and agreeable companion for their husbands. I noticed this book mentions “science” and studying “the truths of science” and “pursuing the paths of science” as part of a good education. I'm not clear about what the author considers to be science, but it appears to be anything that isn't literature or religion. And of course, the most important thing is that parents must imbibe their children with the firmest of religious principles, for only this will help prepare them for the inevitable storms and temptations of life and make them worthy of salvation for the next. This type of novel is usefully referred to as a "moral-domestic" novel. It is set more or less in the present day and more or less in real life, and has a strong didactic and religious element.
Elizabeth’s younger sister Frances (she is never referred to as “Fanny”) is easily led astray in the wicked city, while Elizabeth struggles to fulfill her marriage vow to love, honour and obey when it becomes clear her choice of a marital partner was disastrous. Matilda likewise struggles when her husband starts acting in a mysterious, cold, fashion and she twice spots him talking with a fallen woman. “But what if he was guilty? Did that lessen his claims on her? he was her husband in the sight of God, by whom her plighted vows were called upon to ratify, and make holy, the compact; she had vowed obedience and love to him, nor could any act of his exonerate her from her promise.” And no passive-aggressive scenes at the breakfast table, either: “This life was meant as a trial of virtue; it was not sufficient that she submitted outwardly; she must teach her mind to rise superior to all worldly sorrow.”
Luckily, in Matilda’s case, she was mistaken. Her husband was meeting with the fallen Frances to steer her back to the paths of virtue and ship her back home to her sorrowing family. Elizabeth, meanwhile, is tossed into poverty and virtually sold in a card game to one of her old admirers, who sets about trying to seduce her. He sets up an apartment for Elizabeth and her little daughter, stocked with--get this--a bookshelf of German plays! Like that subversive "Lover's Vows". He is one of those smooth-talking cads who tries to use the "new philosophy" and modern thinking to corrupt Elizabeth's morals.
You will see that this novel does not have a happy ending for two of its main heroines. I'm beginning to think that this kind of "moral domestic" novel was a developing genre during the second decade of the 19th century. Four of the novels written by the author of The Woman of Colour, including The Woman of Colour, do not end with a wedding, for example.
Detained in a sponging-house for debts I’m not going to provide a full synopsis of this novel because I hope other old-novel enthusiasts will read it—it has courtship, heartbreak, betrayal, purloined letters, debtor’s prison, abandonment, more betrayal, near-drownings, torrential thunderstorms, gallant rescues, adultery, penitence, and redemption. I knew that Elizabeth and Frances would meet their earthly doom before the final page, and I was correct—divine retribution visits Frances in spectacular fashion (though note; the author switches the name of another character and writes “Beatrice,” an error not caught before publication, and she also accidentally switches the gender of her illegitimate child). Elizabeth has a dramatic deathbed speech, which makes it possible for her to forgive everyone who has wronged her before she dies, in accordance with Christian doctrine.
In her preface, Taylor specified that she hoped to convey her moral message by appealing to the reader's reason and through engaging the reader’s emotions. She, like other writers of her day, was trying to strike a balance between entertainment and morality. She felt that while Hannah More’s Coelebs in Search of a Wife was an admirable novel, it was “addressed to the understanding, not to the heart," while the romantic Sydney Owenson, with her Wild Irish Girl, excited the senses but did not appeal to reason.
I found Education to be an engaging story, making allowances for the poetry and the stern code of morality which the author promotes. Eliza Taylor does a good job of building up the trials visited upon Elizabeth in particular. She also makes (for the time) quite sophisticated use of foreshadowing, parallel plots, and interesting jumps and breaks in the narrative.
The story is told mostly with narration, which is just as well. When the main characters speak, they make artificial-sounding speeches, with the exception of the deliciously sarcastic and cunning Louisa.
Ann H. Jones remarks that these forgotten novelists “contributed in their own different ways to the scope and variety of the novel. Not one of them produced a novel that stands comparison with those of Jane Austen. Nevertheless, knowledge of their work contributes something to an understanding of the period in which they lived, of the development of the novel, and of the novels of Jane Austen himself.” Therefore, Jones says, we should give “them the small share of recognition that is their due.”
Speaking of novels, there is a lengthy conversation about novels in Volume I, pp 116-121, which reminds us that there was a full-blown moral panic around novel-reading at the time. The reading of novels is hedged about with caveats. Matilda reads Evelina by Frances Burney but the book is given to her by the worldly Louisa, to prepare her naive country self for life in the big city, so that she does not repeat Evelina's errors. As Austen pointed out in Northanger Abbey, authors routinely denigrated novels in the pages of their own novels! For another lengthy discussion of novels within the pages of a novel, see Andrew Stuart.
About the Author
Nothing is known about Eliza Taylor and this may be her only novel. If she is also the “Miss Taylor” who published some other novels with Minerva, the publishing house did not advertise them as such (“by the author of”). The name may of course be a pseudonym.
Education or Elizabeth, her Lover and her Husband received no reviews and has received almost no subsequent critical notice.
In my Mansfield Trilogy, a variation on Mansfield Park, Mary Crawford marries Edmund Bertram, but the marriage is an unhappy one and Mary strays from her marriage vows. For more about my books, click here. |

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