- anne Dashwood and her mother. At that time it was
thought of as excess of feeling or sentiment cherished for its own sake, without much regard for the worthiness of its object. Marianne, disappointed in the vanished romance she had built up chiefly from imaginative material, "would have thought herself very inexcusable had she been able to sleep at all the first night after parting from Willoughby. She would have been ashamed to look her family in the face the next morning, had she not risen from her bed in more need of repose than when she lay down in it."[1]
If Meredith, three-quarters of a century later, had been relating the sad fortunes of a self-deceived young lady, he would have stressed in his account of her character, the cause of the trouble, that is, the process of constructing a Spanish castle with a flimsy foundation in fact, rather than the effect, namely, the emotional orgy which celebrated its inevitable but astonishing collapse. He would have seen that preliminary process as possible because of the disregard for facts which is the real mark of the sentimentalist.[2] This later interpretation is not a contradiction of the earlier one, but a shifting of emphasis. The common factor in the two definitions is feeling, ranging all the way from
- ↑ Sense and Sensibility, II, 85.
- ↑ This conception of sentimentality has many illustrations, expressed and implied. Chesterton describes the sentimentalist as "the man who wants to eat his cake and have it," who "has no sense of honour about ideas," and who keeps a quarreling "intellectual harem." Crotch, in his Pageantry of Dickens, remarks that the English "prefer a plaster of platitudes to the x-rays of investigation." Meredith in his Up to Midnight, observes that liberty is one of the phrases we suck like sweetmeats, and adds, "We read the newspapers daily, and yet we surround ourselves with a description of scenic extravaganza conjured up to displace uncomfortable facts. The image of it is the Florentine Garden established in the midst of the Plague." See also Butler's Notebooks, Anatole France's essay on Dumas, and Bailey's biography of Meredith.
