The New Orleans bulletin. [volume] (New Orleans [La.]) 1874-1876, 1875-12-26
THE MILLER OF sILCOTT MIL L.
A NEW NOVEL.

NEW NOVEL.
The faculty OF conceiving thoughts and
ideas which are neither conscious nor I'M
conscious limitations is at Desta rare one, ano
wherever demonstrated must command both
our sympathies and admiration. 1t needs
only the perusal Of a few opening pages OF
this book to discover that its author is richly
endowed with this exceptional gift, and the
critic in considering its claim to place IN the
world Of letters therefore feels fully Justihed
in ignoring all those hostages to failure so ire
Gu emily exacted upon the score of sex, home
Influences or maiden effort.
Strictly speaking, the "Miller OF Silcott
Mill" is not novel. 1t more resembles one
of those pleasant records OF country home
life, with which Anthony Trollope has made
us so familiar and which appeal to the read
er's feelings through strong realism and that
human sympathy which makes the whole
world kin, even in its humblest and most
commonplace relations. In individualizing
character it almost equals him, but 1t lacks
his well rounded construction Of plot and his
easy plausibility in unwinding complicated
chain of events. 1t would be the shallowest
of truisms to express belief in the authors
capacity to overcome this defect With time
and experience. The qualities already as
serted in the book under review afford ample
assurance of this, but it would be more
than mistaken kindness to fail in pointing
out its main defects. These are neither very
fragrant nor numerous but they are neverthe-
less marked.
Despite the authors evident intention, the
hero of the book is other than the character
designed The Miller Silks to the place
of q mere utility man in the drama, while
the real hero on whom the readers interest
becomes centered from the first, is summary
dismissed in the mi idle of the story with q
suddenness that violates all accepted rules of
constructive art. In consequence of this the
story loses all the advantage it might other
wise have possessed of we'll wrought climax
in the denouement. In fact, as the writer
takes it, the propensity for anti-climax, COM
mon, by the way, to all female writers, Is
the authors greatest, and perhaps only beset
ting sin. 1t creeps into her scenes and nara
tives it hangs like an incubus upon her dia-
logues and it is greatly to be regretted that
a judicious prunIng-knife had not beea more
adyantageously used before presenting the
book to the public Not that it detracts very
largely either from its interest or its merits,
but finding the author so capable and so prom
Using, one cannot help giving expression to
regret SO naturally prompted.
Apart from these pardonable and very
easily corrected faults the book is full of
merit. la descriptive effect its passages are
often so full of poetic thought as to remind US
of Ouida's best Efforts. In thinning character
the skill and vigor of an experienced hand is
manifested throughout With one exception
they are all strongly individualized. consistent
and thoroughly realistic. Those of Roger and
Lydia especially so the relations in which
they are introduced being sufficiently trying
TO tax the resources of the most accomplished
writer.
There is, moreover, q charming LONELINESS
and piquancy in Q authors style, which is
magneticaIly attractive. There are no eagle
flights OF sensational sentiment, the ency-
clopedia goes unravished. the dictionary I'M
provoked and the authors personality. when
everit does peep out occasionally, and ever with
good effect, wears all the modesty and charm
of the garden violet.
In this hnsty sketch it is impossible to ana
lyze the plot, which, after all, should be every
readers exclusive property. The writer has
only, in conclusion, to express conviction
that the creator Of this little story is destined
to achieve no unenviable place in the world
of letters, provided the lessons of experience
are not entirely lost. She is evidently capable
of occupying a much higher plane than
achieved in this, her first book, which has
evidently been hurried from the press A
compliment, it is true, but one more honored
in the breach than in observance. There are
few living American novel writer's, certainly
no Southern ones, who give upon such short
acquaintance, greater promise of future excel
lence. Ample assurance of this is found in
that honest and determined effort, manifest
throughout, to depend upon solely her own in
tellectual resources, which only the conscious
possession of genius can instil, and which is,
in itself, the tombstone to merited success.