Like his friend Charles Dickens, he aimed in his writings to correct social abuses, and his literary lance was ever couched to aid the unfortunate.
He wrote “It’s Never too Late to Mend” to abolish the evils of the English prison system. Its success was tremendous, and later, when it was dramatized and produced at the Princess Theater, there was almost a riot in the audience.
“Hard Cash” was directed against the abuses in insane asylums; “Foul Play” dealt with those connected with the merchant shipping service; “Put Yourself in His Place” took up the hardships of the laboring man. Thus in his books he assailed the evils of his time.
First and always, however, he was a literary artist. He knew how to weave together hard, homely facts and romantic incidents so that his blows for right struck all the harder because of the reader’s absorbing interest in the plot of his story. “It would require a chemical analysis to separate the fiction from the reality,” said Justin McCarthy of Reade’s novels.
“The Cloister and the Hearth” is considered his greatest story.
Part I.
“Tom, I invite you to a walk.”
“Well, George, a walk is a great temptation this beautiful day.”
It was the month of January in Australia. A blazing hot day was beginning to glow through the freshness of morning. The sky was one cope of pure blue, and the southern air crept slowly up, its wings clogged with fragrance, and just tuned the trembling leaves,—no more.
“Is not this pleasant, Tom?—isn’t it sweet?”