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diff --git a/old/69775-0.txt b/old/69775-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 617498f..0000000 --- a/old/69775-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,9733 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Pen-portraits of literary women, -Volume I (of 2), by Various - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Pen-portraits of literary women, Volume I (of 2) - By themselves and others - -Author: Various - -Editors: Helen Gray Cone - Jeannette L. Gilder - -Release Date: January 12, 2023 [eBook #69775] - -Language: English - -Produced by: The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at - https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images - generously made available by The Internet Archive) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PEN-PORTRAITS OF LITERARY -WOMEN, VOLUME I (OF 2) *** - - - - - - PEN-PORTRAITS OF - - LITERARY WOMEN - - BY THEMSELVES AND OTHERS - - EDITED BY - HELEN GRAY CONE - AND - JEANNETTE L. GILDER - - _WITH BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES BY THE FORMER._ - - VOL. I. - - - CASSELL & COMPANY, LIMITED, - 739 & 741 BROADWAY, NEW YORK. - - - - - COPYRIGHT, - 1887, - By O. M. DUNHAM. - - - Press W. L. Mershon & Co., - Rahway, N. J. - - - - - CONTENTS. - - - PAGE. - - HANNAH MORE, 9 - - FRANCES BURNEY (MME. D’ARBLAY), 45 - - MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT (GODWIN), 81 - - MARY W. GODWIN (SHELLEY), 109 - - MARY LAMB, 131 - - MARIA EDGEWORTH, 161 - - JANE AUSTEN, 195 - - JOANNA BAILLIE, 223 - - LADY BLESSINGTON, 245 - - MARY RUSSELL MITFORD, 269 - - - - - PREFATORY NOTE. - - -_This book was suggested by Mr. Mason’s “Personal Traits of British -Authors,” published by Charles Scribner’s Sons. With a single -exception--Charlotte Brontë--the editor of that excellent work excluded -from his pages the literary women of England. The belief that the -public would find interest in a presentation of the characteristics and -surroundings of many of these women, has induced us to supplement Mr. -Mason’s volumes with the present series of “Pen Portraits.”_ - -_The distinction in title implies a slight change of plan. We have -not confined ourselves to the depicting of personal traits, but have -admitted a descriptive background; beyond the figures of Charlotte -and Emily Brontë, a glimpse is caught of the wild moors, purple with -heather; and the Mediterranean, dark with storm, appears behind -the graceful head of Mary Shelley. When a critical remark of some -fellow-worker seemed to have point, we have included it; such passages -may be regarded as pencillings, in various hands, on the margin of the -catalogue of our gallery._ - -_The plan of this work originally included English writers only. In -the course of its preparation, however, a certain amount of material -relative to two others (to the greatest of Frenchwomen and to that -American woman of letters who most notably represents an interesting -past phase of national growth), has presented itself and has not been -rejected._ - -_For the extracts used in these two volumes we give full credit, both -at the foot of the quotations and in an alphabetically arranged list -at the end of each volume. To these authors and to their publishers we -acknowledge our deep obligation, for, without the material they have -furnished, these “Pen Portraits” could never have been drawn._ - - _THE EDITORS._ - - - - - HANNAH MORE. - - 1745-1833. - - - - - HANNAH MORE. - - -Hannah More was born on the 2nd of February, 1745, in the hamlet of -Fishponds in Stapleton parish, about four miles from Bristol. Her -father was the Master of the Free School of that place. His five -daughters grew up to follow his profession, opening, in 1757, a -boarding-school in Bristol, which was very successful. Hannah’s early -womanhood was passed at Bristol, with occasional visits to London, -where she was welcomed by the most brilliant society of the day. After -the death of her dear friend Garrick, in 1779, she gradually withdrew -herself from the world. In 1785 she went to live at Cowslip Green, -whence she removed in 1800 to Barley Wood, near Wrington, eight miles -from Bristol. Her sisters shared her home, devotedly laboring with her -among the poor. Death took them from her one by one, and at last, in -September, 1833, she followed them. She had removed to Clifton in order -to be under the care of friends. - -It is sadly to be feared that some of her once very popular works, -which undoubtedly accomplished much good in their day, have passed with -modern readers into the category of “books which are no books,”--among -which Charles Lamb reckoned “court calendars, directories, -pocket-books, draught-boards, bound and lettered at the back, ... and -generally, all those volumes which ‘no gentleman’s library should be -without.’” The whirligig of time brings in new fashions of thought and -expression, and “the ways of literature are strewn all over with the -shells of books which the public has devoured and forgotten.” But to -turn from the works of Mrs. More’s pen and read of the works of her -helping hands among the poor, is as though, in some old-time garden -where the untrimmed box-borders have grown into sad confusion, and the -old flowers with the odd names have ceased to bloom, we came suddenly -upon the fresh wild-rose that is never out of fashion. The story of the -sturdy struggles of this delicate woman with the squalor, ignorance, -and indifference of that barbarous rural England of the eighteenth and -early nineteenth century, brings her near to us to-day, claiming a -respectful admiration which modern taste hardly accords to her writings. - - * * * * * - -The following is a list of her principal works: - - Poems: _The Search After Happiness._ _Sir Eldred of the Bower and the - Legend of Sensibility._ _The Bas Bleu._ _Florio._ _Bleeding Rock._ - _Bible Rhymes._ - - Dramas: PERCY, _A Tragedy_, performed at Covent Garden Theatre, 1777. - _Fatal Falsehood_, performed in 1779. _The Inflexible Captive._ - - Prose Works: _Thoughts on the Manners of the Great._ _Estimate of the - Religion of the Fashionable World._ _Strictures on Female Education._ - CÆLEBS IN SEARCH OF A WIFE, 1808. _Practical Piety._ _Christian - Morals._ _Moral Sketches._ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Her childhood.] - -At an early age she evinced a large aptitude for learning, and a desire -for information. When her mother first began to think of teaching her -to read, she found Hannah had already made considerable progress, from -attending to the instructions bestowed on her elder sisters. - -Her nurse having lived in the family of Dryden, the inquisitive mind of -the intelligent child was incessantly prompting her to ask for stories -about the poet; and to her father’s excellent memory she was indebted -for long stories from the Greek and Roman histories. Whilst sitting on -his knee, he would, to gratify her ear by the sound, repeat speeches of -her favorite heroes, in their original language, afterward translating -them into English. - -Mr. More imparted to his daughters the rudiments both of Latin and -of the mathematics, and was afterward, it is said, alarmed at the -proficiency of his pupils. - -MRS. ELWOOD: ‘Memoirs of the Literary Ladies of England.’ London: Henry -Colburn, 1843. - - * * * * * - -At this early period, too, the signs of that precarious health which -exercised her piety and virtue by so many trials in the course of her -long life, began to appear; and it was recorded in the family, that -pain and suffering were in her at that early period without their usual -attendants of fretfulness and impatience. - -In her days of infancy, when she could possess herself of a scrap of -paper, her delight was to scribble upon it some essay or poem, with -some well-directed moral, which was afterward secreted in a dark corner -where the servant kept her brushes and dusters. Her little sister, with -whom she slept, was usually the repository of her nightly effusions; -who, in her zeal lest these compositions should be lost, would -sometimes steal down to procure a light, and commit them to the first -scrap of paper which she could find. Among the characteristic sports of -Hannah’s childhood, which their mother was fond of recording, we are -told that she was wont to make a carriage of a chair, and then call to -her sisters to ride with her to London to see bishops and booksellers; -an intercourse which we shall hereafter show to have been realized. The -greatest wish her imagination could frame, when her scraps of paper -were exhausted, was, that she might one day be rich enough to have -a whole quire to herself; and when, by her mother’s indulgence, the -prize was obtained, it was soon filled with supposititious letters to -depraved characters, to reclaim them from their errors, and letters in -return expressive of contrition and resolutions of amendment. - -[Sidenote: A Puritan family.] - -This branch of the family was attached to the established church, -Mr. More himself being a stanch Tory, and what is known as a High -Churchman; but the other members of the family were Presbyterians, and -the daughters of Mr. Jacob More had frequently heard their father say -that he had two great-uncles captains in Oliver Cromwell’s army. Jacob -More’s mother appears, from family tradition, to have possessed a mind -of more than ordinary vigor. She was a pious woman, and used to tell -her younger relatives that they would have known how to value gospel -privileges had they lived, like her, in the days of proscription and -persecution, when, at midnight, pious worshippers went with stealthy -steps through the snow, to hear the words of inspiration delivered by a -holy man at her father’s house; while her father, with a drawn sword, -guarded the entrance from violent or profane intrusion. - -W. ROBERTS: ‘Memoirs of Hannah More,’ New York: Harper & Bros., 1834. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Puritan tendencies illustrated.] - -I would wish you a Merry Christmas as well as a Happy New-Year, but -that I hate the word merry _so_ applied; it is a fitter epithet for a -_bacchanalian_ than a _Christian_ festival, and seems an apology for -idle mirth and injurious excess. - -HANNAH MORE: _Letter to her sister from Hampton_ 1780, in ‘Memoirs,’ by -W. Roberts. - - * * * * * - -On Sunday evening I was a little alarmed; they were preparing for music -(sacred music was the _ostensible_ thing), but before I had time to -feel uneasy, Garrick turned round and said, “Nine,[1] you are a _Sunday -woman_; retire to your room--I will recall you when the music is -over.” - -HANNAH MORE: _Letter to her sister, from Farnborough Place_, 1777, in -‘Memoirs,’ by W. Roberts. - -We spent an agreeable evening at Dr. Cadogan’s, where Mrs. Montagu and -I, being the only two monsters in the creation who never touch a card -(and laughed at enough for it we are), had the fireside to ourselves; -and a more elegant and instructive conversation I have seldom enjoyed. - -HANNAH MORE: _Letter to her sister from London_ 1777, in ‘Memoirs,’ by -W. Roberts. - - * * * * * - -I am going, to-day, to a great dinner; nothing can be conceived so -absurd, extravagant and fantastical as the present mode of dressing the -head. Simplicity and modesty are things so much exploded, that the very -names are no longer remembered. I have just escaped from one of the -most fashionable disfigurers; and though I charged him to dress me with -the greatest simplicity, and to have only a very distant eye upon the -fashion, just enough to avoid the pride of singularity; yet in spite of -all these sage didactics, I absolutely blush at myself. - -HANNAH MORE: _Letter to her sister, from London_ 1776, in ‘Memoirs,’ by -W. Roberts. - - * * * * * - -Again I am annoyed by the foolish absurdity of the present mode of -dress. Some ladies carry on their heads a large quantity of fruit, and -yet they would despise a poor useful member of society who carried -it there for the purpose of selling it for bread. Some, at the back -of their perpendicular caps, hang four or five ostrich feathers, of -different colors, etc. Spirit of Addison! thou pure and gentle shade -arise! thou who, with such fine humor, and such polished sarcasm, didst -lash the cherry-colored hood and the party patches; awake! for the -follies thou didst lash were but the beginning of follies; and the -absurdities thou didst censure were but the seeds of absurdities! - -HANNAH MORE: _Letter to her sister, from London_, 1776, in ‘Memoirs,’ -by W. Roberts. - - * * * * * - -The other night we had a great deal of company, eleven damsels, to say -nothing of men. I protest I hardly do them justice, when I pronounce -that they had, among them, on their heads, an acre and a half of -shrubbery, besides slopes, grass-plots, tulip-beds, clumps of peonies, -kitchen-gardens, and green-houses.... I have no doubt that they held in -great contempt our roseless heads and leafless necks. - -HANNAH MORE: _Letter to her sister, from Burgay_, 1777, in ‘Memoirs,’ -by W. Roberts. - - * * * * * - -And now we are upon vanities, what do you think is the reigning mode -as to powder?--only turmeric, that coarse dye which stains yellow. The -Goths and Vandals, the Picts and Saxons, are come again. It falls out -of the hair, and stains the skin so that every pretty lady must look -as yellow as a crocus, which I suppose will become a better compliment -than as white as a lily. - -HANNAH MORE: _Letter to her sister, from Hampton_, 1782, in ‘Memoirs,’ -by W. Roberts. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: A humorous situation.] - -The other evening they carried me to Mrs. Ord’s assembly; I was quite -dressed for the purpose; Mrs. Garrick gave me an elegant cap, and -put it on herself; so that I was quite sure of being smart; but how -short-lived is all human joy! and see what it is to live in the -country! When I came into the drawing-rooms I found them full of -company, every human creature in deep mourning, and I, poor I, all -gorgeous in scarlet. I never recollected that the mourning for some -foreign Wilhelmina Jaquelina was not over. However, I got over it as -well as I could, made an apology, lamented the _ignorance_ in which I -had lately lived, and I hope this false step of mine will be buried in -oblivion. - -HANNAH MORE: _Letter to her sister, from London_, 1780, in ‘Memoirs,’ -by W. Roberts. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Dislike of public diversions.] - -I find my dislike of what are called public diversions greater than -ever, except a play; and when Garrick has left the stage, I could be -very well contented to relinquish plays also, and to live in London, -without ever again setting my foot in a public place. - -HANNAH MORE: _Letter to her sister, from London_, 1776, in ‘Memoirs,’ -by W. Roberts. - - * * * * * - -I had no less than five invitations to dine abroad to-day, but -preferred the precious and rare luxury of solitude. - -‘Percy’ is acted again this evening: do any of you choose to go? I can -write you an order: for my own part, I shall enjoy a much superior -pleasure--that of sitting by the fire, in a great chair. - -HANNAH MORE: _Letters to her sister, from London_, 1777 and 1778, in -‘Memoirs,’ by W. Roberts. - - * * * * * - -On Monday I was at a very great assembly at the Bishop of St. Asaph’s. -Conceive to yourself one hundred and fifty or two hundred people met -together, dressed in the extremity of the fashion; painted as red as -bacchanals; poisoning the air with perfumes; treading on each other’s -gowns; making the crowd they blame; and not one in ten able to get a -chair; protesting they are engaged to ten other places, and lamenting -the fatigue they are not obliged to endure; ten or a dozen card-tables -crammed with dowagers of quality, grave ecclesiastics, and yellow -admirals; and you have an idea of an assembly. I never go to these -things when I can possibly avoid it, and stay, when there, as few -minutes as I can. - -HANNAH MORE: _Letter to her sister, from Hampton_, 1782, in ‘Memoirs,’ -by W. Roberts. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Anecdote illustrating her readiness.] - -With the well-known writer, Dr. Langhorne, when vicar of Blagdon, -she long maintained a poetical and literary correspondence. The -introduction took place in 1773, while she was recovering from an -attack of ague, at Uphill, on the Somersetshire coast. The doctor was -at the time taking his recreation at the neighboring and better known -watering-place, Weston-Super-Mare. They often rode together upon the -sands; Miss More, as the custom then was, on the pillion behind her -servant; and when it happened that either chanced to miss the other, a -paper was placed in a cleft post near the water, generally containing -some quaint remark, or a few verses. On one of these occasions, the -doctor committed his wit and gallantry to the sand, on which he -inscribed with his cane: - - “Along the shore - Walked Hannah More; - Waves! let this record last: - Sooner shall ye, - Proud earth and sea, - Than what she writes, be past. - - JOHN LANGHORNE.” - -Miss More, with her riding whip, wrote immediately beneath: - - “Some firmer basis, polish’d Langhorne, choose, - To write the dictates of thy charming muse; - Thy strains in solid characters rehearse, - And be thy tablet lasting as thy verse. - - HANNAH MORE.” - -HENRY THOMPSON: ‘Life of Hannah More.’ Philadelphia: Carey and Hart, -1838. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Her early engagement to Mr. Turner.] - -His residence at Belmont was beautifully situated, and he had carriages -and horses and every thing to make a visit to Belmont agreeable. He -permitted his cousins to ask any young persons at the school to spend -their vacations with them. Their governesses being nearly of their -own age, they made choice of the two youngest of the sisters--Hannah -and Patty More. The consequence was natural. She was very clever and -fascinating, and he was generous and sensible; he became attached, and -made his offer, which was accepted. He was a man of large fortune, and -she was young and dependent; she quitted her interest in the concern of -the school, and was at great expense in preparing and fitting herself -out to be the wife of a man of large fortune. The day was fixed more -than once for the marriage, and Mr. Turner each time postponed it. -Her sisters and friends interfered, and would not permit her to be -so treated and trifled with. He continued in the wish to marry her; -but her friends, after his former conduct, and on other accounts, -persevered in keeping up her determination not to renew the engagement. - -MRS. SIMMONS: _Letter_ in W. Roberts’ ‘Memoirs of Hannah More.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Miss More in London.] - -Since I wrote last, Hannah has been introduced by Miss Reynolds to -Baretti, to Edmund Burke--the sublime and beautiful Edmund Burke! -From a large party of literary persons assembled at Sir Joshua’s she -received the most encouraging compliments; and the spirit with which -she returned them was acknowledged by all present, as Miss Reynolds -informed poor us. - -... We have paid another visit to Miss Reynolds. She had sent to engage -Dr. Percy (Percy’s collection--now you know him), quite a spritely -modern, instead of a rusty antique, as I expected. He was no sooner -gone than Miss Reynolds ordered the coach to take us to Dr. Johnson’s -_very own house_; yes, Abyssinia’s Johnson! Dictionary Johnson! -Rambler’s, Idler’s, and Irene’s Johnson! - -... Miss Reynolds told the doctor of all our rapturous exclamations on -the road. He shook his scientific head at Hannah and said, “She was a -_silly thing_.” When our visit was ended, he called for his hat (as -it rained), to attend us down a very long entry to our coach, and not -Rasselas could have acquitted himself more _en cavalier_. - -... I forgot to mention, that not finding Johnson in his little parlor -when we came in, Hannah seated herself in his great chair, hoping to -catch a little ray of his genius; when he heard it he laughed heartily, -and said it was a chair on which he never sat. - -Tuesday evening we drank tea at Sir Joshua’s with Dr. Johnson. Hannah -is certainly a great favorite. She was placed next him, and they had -the entire conversation to themselves. They were both in remarkably -high spirits; it was certainly her lucky night! I never heard her -say so many good things. The old genius was extremely jocular, and -the young one very pleasant. You would have imagined we had been at -some comedy had you heard our peals of laughter. They, indeed, tried -which could “pepper the highest,” and it is not clear to me that the -lexicographer was really the highest seasoner. - -[Sidenote: Dr. Johnson’s rapture.] - -It is nothing but “child,” “little fool,” “love,” and “dearest.” After -much critical discourse, he turns round to me, and with one of his most -amiable looks, which must be seen to form the least idea of it, he -says: “I have heard that you are engaged in the useful and honorable -employment of teaching young ladies,” upon which ... we entered upon -the history of our birth, parentage, and education; showing how we -were born with more desires than guineas; and how, as years increased -our appetites, the cupboard at home began to grow too small to gratify -them; and how, with a bottle of water, a bed, and a blanket, we -set out to seek our fortunes; and how we found a great house, with -nothing in it; and how it was like to remain so, till looking into our -knowledge-boxes, we happened to find a little learning, a good thing -when land is gone, or rather none: and so at last, by giving a little -of this little learning to those who had less, we got a good store -of gold in return; but how, alas! we wanted the wit to keep it.--“I -love you both,” cried the inamorato--“I love you all five--I never -was at Bristol--I will come on purpose to see you--what! five women -live happily together!--I will come and see you--I have spent a happy -evening--I am glad I came--God for ever bless you, you live lives to -shame duchesses.” - -SALLY MORE: _Letters to her sisters, London_, 1774-5, 6, in ‘Memoirs of -Hannah More,’ by W. Roberts. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: ‘Sir Eldred’ and ‘Bleeding Rock.’] - -Her ‘Search after Happiness’ had reached a sixth edition. An edition -was sent from _Philadelphia_, with two complimentary poems addressed to -the author; and the profits of the sale had netted £100. She thought, -therefore, not without reason, that she had established sufficient -literary reputation to justify her in setting a high pecuniary value -on her writings. She, therefore, offered at once to Mr. (afterwards -Alderman) Cadell two little poems, to form a thin quarto, after the -fashion of the day, requesting to know what he would give for them, -and stating at the same time that she would not part with them for -“a very paltry consideration.” Mr. Cadell, though he had not seen -the poems, was so well prepared to entertain high expectations, that -he immediately offered to give Miss More whatever Goldsmith might -have received for his ‘Deserted Village.’ This she was unable to -discover, and therefore she laid her demand at forty guineas, which the -popularity of the volume amply justified. It comprised ‘Sir Eldred of -the Bower,’ a tale which appears to have been suggested by her taste -for ballad literature, which Percy’s ‘Reliques of Ancient Poetry’ had -revived; and ‘The Legend of the Bleeding Rock’ before mentioned. The -former of these pieces was honored by the revision, and even more, by -the critical touch of Johnson, whose pen has furnished the stanza which -now appears in it: - - “My scorn has oft the dart repell’d - Which guileful beauty threw; - But goodness heard, and grace beheld, - Must every heart subdue.” - -HENRY THOMPSON: ‘Life of Hannah More.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Life with the Garricks in London.] - -It is not possible for anything on earth to be more agreeable to my -taste than my present manner of living. I am so much at my ease; have -a great many hours at my own disposal, to read my own books and see my -own friends; and, whenever I please, may join the most polished and -delightful society in the world. Our breakfasts are little literary -societies; there is generally company at meals, as they think it saves -time, by avoiding the necessity of seeing people at other seasons. Mr. -Garrick sets the highest value upon his time of any body I ever knew. -From dinner to tea we laugh, chat, and talk nonsense; the rest of his -time is generally devoted to study. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Admiration for Garrick.] - -To the most eloquent expression of the eye, to the handwriting of the -passions on his features, to a sensibility which tears to pieces the -hearts of his auditors, to powers so unparalleled, he adds a judgment -of the most exquisite accuracy, the fruit of long experience and close -observation, by which he preserves every gradation and transition of -the passions, keeping all under the control of a just dependence and -natural consistency.... It was a fiction as delightful as fancy, and as -touching as truth. A few nights before I saw him in _Abel Drugger_; and -had I not seen him in both, I should have thought it as possible for -Milton to have written ‘Hudibras,’ and Butler ‘Paradise Lost,’ as for -one man to have played _Hamlet_ and _Drugger_ with such excellence. - -I’ll tell you the most ridiculous circumstance in the world. After -dinner Garrick took up the Monthly Review (civil gentlemen, by the way, -these monthly reviewers) and read ‘Sir Eldred’ with all his pathos -and all his graces. I think I never was so ashamed in my life; but he -read it so superlatively, that I cried like a child. Only think what a -scandalous thing, to cry at the reading of one’s own poetry! I could -have beaten myself; for it looked as if I thought it very moving, -which I can truly say is far from being the case. But the beauty of -the jest lies in this: Mrs. Garrick twinkled as well as I, and made as -many apologies for crying at her husband’s reading as I did for crying -at my own verses. _She_ got out of the scrape by pretending she was -touched at the story and I by saying the same thing of the reading. -It furnished us with a great laugh at the catastrophe, when it would -really have been decent to have been a little sorrowful. - -HANNAH MORE: _Letters to her sisters, London_, 1776, in ‘Memoirs,’ by -W. Roberts. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Garrick’s pride in her.] - -The sisters were one day dining at the Adelphi, at one of Garrick’s -small parties, at which was present “a young gentleman of family and -fortune, and greatly accomplished,” who had been visiting most of -the courts of Europe, and was just about to publish his travels in -Spain. The rest is in the writer’s own words: “Hannah sat mute; only -sometimes addressed herself to Mr. Garrick. However, this was not to -last forever. Mrs. G. threatened H. to discover who she was; but she -entreated she would be silent. At length the discovery was made by the -lady of the house saying, in her sweet, pretty, foreign accent, ‘Pray, -sir, why don’t you address your Spanish to this lady, and see if she -pronounces well?’ The gentleman stared, and instantly made violent love -to her in Italian, little thinking that in that language the lady was -his match; but when he made what he thought these vast discoveries, he -turned to Mr. Garrick--‘Why, sir, did you not tell me I was in company -with a learned lady?’ ‘With a learned lady, sir,’ replies the universal -enchanter; ‘why, sir, that lady is a great genius! Sir, she has -published more than you ever will with all your travelling! She is MY -DRAMATIC PUPIL, sir!’ Oh! the poor dear petrified gentleman! You never, -madam, saw a man so astonished; as he seems to think printing the _ne -plus ultra_ of all human perfection. He then paid vast attention to -miss, and was quite struck when he attended to her replies, as you know -she can find a pretty answer for most questions.” - -HENRY THOMPSON: ‘Life of Hannah More.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Production of ‘Percy.’] - -It is impossible to tell you of all the kindness and friendship of the -Garricks; he thinks of nothing, talks of nothing, writes of nothing -but ‘Percy.’... When Garrick had finished his prologue and epilogue -(which are excellent), he desired I would pay him. Dryden, he said, -used to have five guineas a piece, but as he was a richer man he would -be content if I would treat him with a handsome supper and a bottle of -claret. We haggled sadly about the price, I insisting that I could only -afford to give him a beefsteak and a pot of porter; and at about twelve -we sat down to some toast and honey, with which the temperate bard -contented himself. - -_Mr. Garrick’s study, Adelphi; ten at night._--He himself puts the pen -into my hand, and bids me say that all is just as it should be. Nothing -was ever more warmly received. I went with Mr. and Mrs. Garrick; sat in -Mr. Harris’s box, in a snug, dark corner, and behaved very well; that -is, very quietly. The prologue and epilogue were received with bursts -of applause; so, indeed, was the whole; as much beyond my expectation -as my deserts! - - * * * * * - -I am just returned from the second night, and it was, if possible, -received more favorably than on the first. One tear is worth a thousand -hands, and I had the satisfaction to see even the men shed them in -abundance. - -The critics (as is usual) met at the Bedford last night, to fix the -character of the play. If I were a heroine of romance, and was writing -to my confidante, I should tell you all the fine things that were -said; but as I am a real living Christian woman, I do not think it -would have been so modest. - -HANNAH MORE: _Letters to her sisters, London_, 1777, in ‘Memoirs,’ by -W. Roberts. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Profits.] - -I am very much pleased to find that ‘Percy’ meets with your -approbation. It has been extremely successful, far beyond my -expectation, and more so than any _tragedy_ has been for many years. -The profits were not so great as they would have been, had it been -brought out when the town was full; yet they were such as I have no -reason to complain of. The author’s nights, sale of the copy, etc., -amounted to near six hundred pounds (this is _entre nous_); and as my -friend Mr. Garrick has been so good as to lay it out for me on the best -security, and at five per cent., it makes a decent little addition -to my small income. Cadell gave £150--a very handsome price, with -conditional promises. He confesses (a thing not usual) that it has had -a very great sale, and that he shall get a good deal of money by it. -The first impression was near four thousand, and the second is almost -sold. - -HANNAH MORE: _Letter to Mrs. Gwatkin, Hampton_, 1778, in ‘Memoirs,’ by -W. Roberts. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Grief at Garrick’s death.] - -“I went,” she says, “yesterday with the Wilmots to pay a visit to the -coffin. The last time the same party met in the room was--_to see him -perform Macbeth!_ ... there was room for meditation till the mind -burst with thinking. His new house is not so pleasant as Hampton, nor -so splendid as the Adelphi; but it is commodious enough for all the -wants of the inhabitant. Besides it is so quiet, that he never will -be disturbed till the eternal morning; and never till then will a -sweeter voice than his be heard.” From this moment Hannah More appears -to have resolved on the entire dedication of all her mental powers -and acquirements, of all her influence, her time, her efforts, to the -attainment of a crown which should not wither on her tomb. - -HENRY THOMPSON: ‘Life of Hannah More.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Production of ‘Fatal Falsehood.’] - -Just returned from the house; the applause was as great as her most -sanguine friends could wish. Miss Young was interrupted three different -times, in the speech on false honor, with bursts of approbation. When -Rivers, who was thought dead, appeared in the fifth act, they quite -shouted for joy. The curtain fell to slow music,--and now for the -moment when the fate of the piece was to be decided! The audience did -her the honor to testify their approbation by the warmest applause -that could possibly be given; for when Hull came forward to ask their -permission to perform it again, they did give leave by three loud -shouts, and by many huzzaings. - -----[2] MORE: _Letter to her sisters, London_, 1779, in “Memoirs of -Hannah More,” by W. Roberts. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Life with Mrs. Garrick] - -Mrs. Garrick and I read to ourselves _sans_ intermission.... We never -see a human face but each other’s. Though in such deep retirement, I am -never dull, because I am not reduced to the fatigue of entertaining -dunces, or of being obliged to listen to them. We dress like a couple -of Scaramouches, dispute like a couple of Jesuits, eat like a couple -of aldermen, walk like a couple of porters, and read as much as two -doctors of either university. - -HANNAH MORE: _Letters to her sisters, Hampton_, 1780, in ‘Memoirs,’ by -W. Roberts. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Love of the country.] - -We go to-morrow to smell the lilacs and syringas at Hampton. I long for -the sweet tranquillity of that delicious retreat. - -HANNAH MORE: _Letter to Mrs. Gwatkin, London_, 1776, in ‘Memoirs,’ by -W. Roberts. - - * * * * * - -I did not think there could have been so beautiful a place [as -Wimbledon Park] within seven miles of London; the park has as much -variety of ground, and is as _un-Londonish_ as if it were a hundred -miles off; and I enjoyed the violets and the birds more than all the -marechal powder and the music of this foolish town. - -HANNAH MORE: _Letter to her sister, from London_, 1780, in ‘Memoirs,’ -by W. Roberts. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Home at Cowslip Green.] - -The cottage, except by the growth of the trees then planted, is -little altered from its appearance in 1785, when Miss More first took -possession of it. It is only one story high; the roof is thatch; a -smooth lawn, with a few shrubs and trees, fronts the window of the -drawing-room, which looks toward the south. A border of flowers runs -nearly round the walls. Situate in the midst of the bright and fertile -vale of Wrington, Cowslip Green commands a variety of exquisite views. -On one side of the lawn rises the abrupt hill on which the noble -mansion of Aldwick Court has since been erected. To the south spreads -the rich and sylvan valley, bounded by the dark outline of the Mendips, -with their warm-tinted herbage and dusky woods, casting out in bold -relief the picturesque village of Blagdon, and the “Magick Garden” of -Mendip Lodge with its noble terraces of - - “Shade above shade, a woody theatre - Of stateliest view;” - -while between them the cottage roofs and venerable tower of Burrington -shelter in the leafy skirts of their bold and rocky coomb. - -HENRY THOMPSON: ‘Life of Hannah More.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Her charity: Episode of the Bristol milkwoman Ann Yearsley.] - -Her ingratitude to Miss More has been superlative. The latter labored -unweariedly to collect subscriptions for her, and was at expense -herself for the publication; and lest the husband, who is a dolt, -should waste the sum collected, placed it out at interest for her as -trustee, besides having washed and combed her trumpery verses, and -taught them to dance in tune. The foolish woman’s head, turned with -the change of fortune and applause, and concluding that her talent, -which was only wonderful from her sphere and state of ignorance, was -marvellous genius, she grew enraged at Miss More for presuming to -prune her wild shoots, and, in her passion, accused her benevolent -and beneficent friend of defrauding her of part of the collected -charity.... Am I in the wrong, madam, for thinking that these parish -Sapphos had better be bound ’prentices to mantua-makers, than be -appointed chambermaids to Mesdemoiselles the Muses? - -HORACE WALPOLE: _Letter to the Countess of Ossory_, 1786, in ‘The -Letters of Horace Walpole, Earl of Oxford.’ London: Henry G. Bohn, 1861. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Account of her work at Cheddar.] - -Perhaps it is the best answer to your question, to describe the origin -and progress of one of our schools, detached from the rest. And I -select Cheddar, which you were the immediate cause of our taking up. -After the discoveries made of the deplorable state of that place, my -sister and I went and took lodging at a little public-house there, to -see what we could do, for we were utterly at a loss how to begin. We -found more than two thousand people in the parish, almost all very -poor; no gentry; a dozen wealthy farmers, hard, brutal, and ignorant. -We visited them all, picking up at one house (like fortune-tellers) -the name and character of the next. We told them we intended to set up -a school for their poor. They did not like it. We assured them we did -not desire a shilling from them, but wished for their concurrence, as -we knew they could influence their workmen. One of the farmers seemed -pleased and civil; he was rich, but covetous, a hard drinker, and -his wife a woman of loose morals, but good natural sense; she became -our friend sooner than some of the decent and formal, and let us a -house, the only one in the parish at £7 per annum, with a good garden. -Adjoining to it was a large ox-house; this we roofed and floored, and, -by putting in a couple of windows, it made a good school-room. While -this was doing, we went to every house in the place, and found every -house a scene of the greatest ignorance and vice. We saw but one Bible -in all the parish, and that was used to prop a flower-pot. No clergyman -had resided in it for forty years. One rode over, three miles from -Wells, to preach once on a Sunday, but no weekly duty was done, or sick -persons visited, and children were often buried without any funeral -service. Eight people in the morning and twenty in the afternoon, was a -good congregation. We spent our whole time in getting at the characters -of all the people, the employment, wages, and number of every family; -and this we have done in our other nine parishes. On a fixed day, of -which we gave notice in the church, every woman, with all her children -above six years old, met us. We took an exact list from their account, -and engaged one hundred and twenty to attend on the following Sunday. -A great many refused to send their children, unless we would pay -them for it; and not a few refused, because they were not sure of my -intentions, being apprehensive that at the end of seven years, if they -attended so long, I should acquire a power over them, and send them -beyond sea. I must have heard this myself in order to believe that so -much ignorance existed out of Africa. While this was going on, we had -set every engine at work to find proper teachers.... For the first year -these excellent women had to struggle with every kind of opposition, so -that they were frequently tempted to give up their laborious employ. -They well entitled themselves to £30 per annum salary, and some little -presents. We established a weekly school of thirty girls, to learn -reading, sewing, knitting, and spinning. The latter, though I tried -three sorts, and went myself to almost every clothing town in the -county, did not answer--partly from the exactions of the manufacturer, -and partly from its not suiting the genius of the place. They preferred -knitting after the school hours on week-days. The mother and daughter -[the teachers employed by Miss More] visited the sick, chiefly with a -view to their spiritual concerns; but we concealed the true motive at -first; and in order to procure them access to the houses and hearts -of the people, they were furnished not only with medicine, but with a -little money, which they administered with great prudence. They soon -gained their confidence, read and prayed to them; and in all respects -did just what a good clergyman does in other parishes. At the end of -a year we perceived that much ground had been gained among the poor; -but the success was attended with no small persecution from the rich, -though some of them grew more favorable. I now ventured to have a -sermon read after school on a Sunday evening, inviting a few of the -parents, and keeping the grown-up children. It was at first thought a -very Methodistical measure, and we got a few broken windows; but quiet -perseverance carried us through. - -Finding the distresses of these poor people uncommonly great (for their -wages are but 1_s._ per day), and fearing to abuse the bounty of my -friends by too indiscriminate liberality, it occurred to me that I -could make what I had to bestow go much further, by instituting clubs -or societies for the women, as is done for men in other places. It was -no small trouble to accomplish this; for though the subscription was -only three half-pence a week, it was more than they could always raise; -yet the object appeared so important, that I found it would be good -economy privately to give widows and other very poor women money to -pay their club.... In some parishes we have one hundred and fifty poor -women thus associated.... We have an anniversary feast of tea, and I -get some of the clergy, and not a few of the better sort of people, to -come to it. We wait on the women, who sit and enjoy their dignity. - -HANNAH MORE: _Letter to Mr. Wilberforce_, 1791, in ‘Memoirs,’ by W. -Roberts. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: A visit from Southey.] - -I visited Hannah More, at Cowslip Green, on Monday last, and seldom -have I lived a pleasanter day. She knew my opinions, and treated them -with a flattering deference; her manners are mild, her information -considerable, and her taste correct. There are five sisters, and each -of them would be remarked in a mixed company. They pay for and direct -the education of one thousand poor children. - -ROBERT SOUTHEY: _Letter_, Oct., 1795, in ‘Life and Correspondence,’ -edited by Rev. C. C. Southey, M. A. London: Longman, Brown, Green, and -Longman’s, 1849. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Obstacles to her work.] - -We have in hand a new and very laborious undertaking, on account of its -great distance from home. But the object appeared to me so important, -that I did not feel myself at liberty to neglect it. It is a parish, -the largest in our county or diocese, in a state of great depravity and -ignorance. The opposition I have met with in endeavoring to establish -an institution for the religious instruction of these people would -excite your astonishment. The principal adversary is a farmer of -£1000 a year, who says the lower classes are _fated_ to be wicked and -ignorant, and that as wise as I am I cannot alter what is _decreed_. He -has labored to ruin the poor curate for favoring our cause, and says -he shall not have a workman to obey him, for I shall make them all as -wise as himself. In spite of this hostility, however, which far exceeds -anything I have met with, I am building a house, and taking up things -on such a large scale, that you must not be surprised if I get into -jail for debt (even should I escape it for my irregular proceedings, -which is the most to be feared).... Providence, I trust, will carry -me through the business of this new undertaking; for, in spite of the -active malevolence we experience, I have brought already between three -and four hundred under a course of instruction: the worst part of the -story is, that thirty miles there and back is a little too much these -short days; and when we get there, our house has as yet neither windows -nor doors; but if we live till next summer, things will mend, and in so -precarious a world as this is, a winter was not to be lost! - -HANNAH MORE: _Letter to Mrs. Kennicott_, 1798, in ‘Memoirs,’ by W, -Roberts. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Her friends.] - -It was remarked by Mrs. More that she never lost a friend but by -death; and as she continued to the last enlarging the number of this -privileged order, she had, in her later years, and in her rural -seclusion, less time at command than she had enjoyed at Hampton, -when her evenings passed in the crowded saloons of the fashionable -and the literary. To save her own time, as well as to accommodate -her numerous visitors, she opened her house daily from twelve or -one o’clock to three, for what she not inappropriately termed her -“levee.” This, however, was far from securing the rest of her time for -solitude, as friends from distant quarters were frequently besetting -Barley Wood, and making importunate and irresistible demands on her -leisure. Ingenious, however, to do good, she now employed herself -in manufacturing little useful and ornamental articles, to be sold -at fancy fairs for charitable purposes; the fact that they were the -produce of her industry investing them with many times their intrinsic -value. The same energy which distinguished her literary pursuits, was -conspicuous in this humbler path of usefulness. On one occasion of this -sort, she knitted so assiduously as to produce an abscess in her hand. - -[Sidenote: Her industry.] - -HENRY THOMPSON: ‘Life of Hannah More.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Her determination.] - -The energy of her mind in carrying into execution any purpose which -had been adopted after sufficient consideration was very remarkable. -In conformity with this part of her character, her plan was, in any -new resolution which involved the exercise of self-denial, to contend -with the most difficult part of the undertaking first, after which she -used to say that she found the remaining sacrifices comparatively easy -to be submitted to. On this principle, having resolved to desist from -going to the theatre about the time her play of ‘Percy’ was revived, -she determined to make that the immediate occasion for carrying her -new resolution into practice. Mrs. Siddons was then at the height of -her glory, and was to act the part of the heroine of the tragedy, a -character which she was said to exhibit with remarkable success; and -Mrs. Hannah More was in the midst of a brilliant society of friends -and admirers, who all attended the representation; but here she was -determined to make her first stand against this particular temptation, -and to break the spell of the enchantment while standing in the centre -of the magic circle. - -Another anecdote will show the same principle brought into exercise on -a very different occasion. As her limited income began to be sensibly -diminished at one time by her travelling expenses, she determined to -perform her journeys in stage-coaches; and in order to overcome at -once every obstacle that pride might interpose, she resolved to pay a -visit to a nobleman on which she was about to set out, in one of these -vehicles; which, as there was a public road through the park, set her -down at the door of the mansion. She has more than once described her -conflicting sensations when his lordship, proceeding through a line of -servants in rich liveries, came to hand her out of her conveyance--a -conveyance at that time much less used than at present by persons of -high respectability. Thus it was the policy of this able tactician to -commence her operations by a decisive blow, whereby the main strength -of the opposing foe was at once broken and dispersed, and her victory -made easy and secure. - -WM. ROBERTS: ‘Memoirs of Hannah More.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Appearance in old age.] - -Her form was small and slight, her features wrinkled with age; but -the burden of eighty years had not impaired her gracious smile, nor -lessened the fire of her eyes, the clearest, the brightest, and the -most searching I have ever seen. They were singularly dark--positively -black they seemed as they looked forth among carefully-trained tresses -of her own white hair; and absolutely sparkled while she spoke of those -of whom she was the venerated link between the present and the long -past. Her manner on entering the room, while conversing, and at our -departure, was positively spritely; she tripped about from console to -console, from window to window, to show us some gift that bore a name -immortal, some cherished reminder of other days--almost of another -world, certainly of another age; for they were memories of those whose -deaths were registered before the present century had birth. - -She was clad, I well remember, in a rich dress of pea-green silk. It -was an odd whim, and contrasted somewhat oddly with her patriarchal age -and venerable countenance, yet was in harmony with the youth of her -step and her increasing vivacity, as she laughed and chatted, chatted -and laughed; her voice strong and clear as that of a girl. - -S. C. HALL: ‘A Book of Memories of Great Men and Women of the Age.’ -London: Virtue & Co., 1871. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Relations with Macaulay.] - -She was a very kind friend to me from childhood. Her notice first -called out my literary tastes. Her presents laid the foundation of my -library. She was to me what Ninon was to Voltaire--begging her pardon -... and yours for comparing myself to a great man. She really was -a second mother to me. I have a real affection for her memory. I, -therefore, could not possibly write about her, unless I wrote in her -praise; and all the praise which I could give to her writings, even -after straining my conscience in her favor, would be far indeed from -satisfying any of her admirers. - -T. B. MACAULAY: _Letter to W. Napier_, in the former’s ‘Life and -Letters,’ by G. Otto Trevelyan. New York: Harper & Bros., 1876. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: A comment on ‘Cælebs.’] - -Have you read ‘Cælebs’? It has reached eight editions in so many weeks, -yet literally it is one of the very poorest sort of common novels, -with the drawback of dull religion in it. Had the religion been high -and flavored, it would have been something. I borrowed this ‘Cælebs in -Search of a Wife,’ from a very careful, neat lady, and returned it with -this stuff written in the beginning:-- - - If ever I marry a wife - I’d marry a landlord’s daughter, - For then I may sit in the bar, - And drink cold brandy-and-water. - -CHARLES LAMB: _Letter to Coleridge_, in ‘Final Memorials’ of the -former, by T. N. Talfourd. London: Edward Moxon, 1848. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: George Eliot’s opinion.] - -I like neither her letters, nor her books, nor her character. She was -that most disagreeable of all monsters, a blue-stocking--a monster that -can only exist in a miserably false state of society, in which a woman -with but a smattering of learning or philosophy is classed along with -singing mice or card-playing pigs. - -GEORGE ELIOT: _Letter to J. Sibree_, 1848, in ‘Life,’ edited by J. W. -Cross. New York: Harper & Bros., 1885. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Opinion of Sara Coleridge.] - -Though I think that Mrs. More’s[3] very great notoriety was more the -work of circumstances, and the popular turn of her mind, than owing -to a strong original genius, I am far from thinking her an _ordinary_ -woman. She must have had great energy of character, and a spritely, -versatile mind, which did not originate much, but which readily caught -the spirit of the day and reflected all the phases of opinion in the -pious and well-disposed portion of society in a clear and lively manner. - -SARA COLERIDGE: _Letter to Miss E. Treveren_, 1834, in the former’s -‘Memoir and Letters,’ by her daughter. New York: Harper & Bros., 1874. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Hannah More’s earnings.] - -Mrs. More and her sisters had accumulated by their industry handsome -competencies; by her pen alone she had realized £30,000.... Much of her -property was bequeathed to public institutions. - -HENRY THOMPSON: ‘Life of Hannah More.’ - - -FOOTNOTES: - -[1] David Garrick used to call her “Nine,” and “Your Nineship,” -deriving the title from the Nine Muses. - -[2] It is not stated which of the sisters wrote the letter from which -this extract is taken; Hannah was too ill to attend on the opening -night of ‘Fatal Falsehood.’ - -[3] In later life she was always called _Mrs._ More. - - - - - FRANCES BURNEY (MME. D’ARBLAY). - - 1752-1840. - - - - - FRANCES BURNEY (MME. D’ARBLAY). - - -Frances Burney was born at Lynn Regis, Norfolk. She was the daughter of -Dr. Charles Burney, a well-known professor of music, and the admiring -friend of Samuel Johnson. Her early associations are sufficiently -described in Macaulay’s lively essay, from which we have freely drawn. -In 1778, at twenty-six, she published her first novel, EVELINA, which -took the town by storm. Four years later it was followed by CECILIA. -In 1786 Frances was appointed Second Keeper of the Robes to Queen -Charlotte. She resigned the position in 1791. In 1793 she married M. -D’Arblay, a French refugee, an officer of noble family. - -“The sisters of Shakespeare’s Ophelia, Otway’s Belvidera, Richardson’s -Pamela,” says M. Taine, “constitute a race by themselves, soft -and fair, with blue eyes, lily whiteness, blushing, of timid -delicacy, serious sweetness, framed to yield, bend, cling.” This -French generalization touching Englishwomen might have been drawn -from Fanny Burney. She had all the “sweetness, devotion, patience, -inextinguishable affection,” on which the brilliant Frenchman rings -his changes. Her gift of humor, of a keen mind, seems to have been -a thing apart, and not in the least to have affected her relations -with those immediately around her; she saw them always through a veil -of affection and reverence. Her father, whom Macaulay so censures for -his carelessness, to her is ever “my dearest father,” “gay, facile -and sweet”; she bows in spirit before plain, dull King George and his -“sweet queen”; is tremblingly anxious to please the princesses; finds -old Mrs. Delany a saint, an angel; cannot bring herself to refuse the -overwhelming favor of a court position which she does not want. Yet -this woman, who, as acute Mrs. Thrale phrased it, “loved the world -reverentially,” was as ready as the most unconventional of beings to -lose that world for love. She married D’Arblay in meek defiance of her -father’s wish (though indeed Dr. Burney was unresentful); in defiance -of public opinion--and it is difficult to realize the state of English -opinion concerning Frenchmen at that date; and on a pecuniary basis -which makes one smile--her pension of £100 per annum from the queen. -M. D’Arblay could not present himself with her at Windsor. She was -ecstatically joyful once because the king vouchsafed him recognition on -the terrace. Little touches like this throughout the diary show us that -she never ceased to value dross, but none the less, she was willing -instantly to give it up for gold. - -The record of the Arcadian life and happiness of these young people of -forty-odd is delightful reading. How exquisite is D’Arblay’s romantic -reply to the offer of a commission in the French army, that he could -only accept it on condition that he should never be required to bear -arms against the countrymen of his wife! Conceive the reception of this -communication by Napoleon Bonaparte! - -In 1802 the D’Arblays went, with their little son, to Paris. One would -like the romance to end with “they lived happy ever after.” Alas, it -is reality after all, not romance; and we must read Frances’s deeply -touching account of the death of D’Arblay at Paris in 1812. She -survived him twenty-eight years; survived, indeed, their son, her “dear -Alex,” who died in 1832. The mother lived on lonely in London till 1840. - -She published after her marriage the following works: - -_Brief Reflections Relative to the French Emigrant Clergy_, 1793. - -_Edwin and Elgitha_, a tragedy, 1795. - -_Camilla_, a novel, published by subscription in 1796, from which she -obtained 3,000 guineas. - -_The Wanderer_, a tale, 1814. - -_Memoir of Dr. Burney_, 1832. - -The DIARY AND LETTERS, which would embalm her memory even if EVELINA, -CECILIA and _Camilla_ were lost, was published after her death, in -seven volumes. The somewhat unmerciful bulk of this work has lately -been judiciously reduced by Sarah Chauncey Woolsey in an edition -published by Messrs. Roberts Brothers. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Her childhood.] - -At Lynn, in June, 1752, Frances Burney was born. Nothing in her -childhood indicated that she would, while still a young woman, have -secured for herself an honorable and permanent place among English -writers. She was shy and silent. Her brothers and sisters called her -a dunce, and not altogether without some show of reason; for at eight -years old she did not know her letters. - -[Sidenote: Education.] - -... The progress of the mind of Frances Burney, from her ninth to her -twenty-fifth year, well deserves to be recorded. When her education -had proceeded no further than the horn-book, she lost her mother, and -thenceforward she educated herself. Her father appears to have been -as bad a father as a very honest, affectionate and sweet-tempered man -can well be. He loved his daughter dearly, but it never seems to have -occurred to him that a parent has other duties to perform to children -than that of fondling them. It would indeed have been impossible -for him to superintend their education himself. His professional -engagements occupied him all day.... Two of his daughters he sent to -a seminary at Paris; but he imagined that Frances would run some risk -of being perverted from the Protestant faith if she were educated in a -Catholic country, and he therefore kept her at home. No governess, no -teacher of any art or of any languages was provided for her. But one of -her sisters showed her how to write, and before she was fourteen she -began to find pleasure in reading. - -[Sidenote: No novel reader.] - -It was not, however, by reading that her intellect was formed. Indeed, -when her best novels were produced, her knowledge of books was very -small. It is particularly deserving of observation, that she appears -to have been by no means a novel reader. Her father’s library was -large, ... but in the whole collection there was only a single novel, -Fielding’s ‘Amelia.’ - -[Sidenote: Her peculiar opportunities.] - -Dr. Burney’s attainments, the suavity of his temper, and the gentle -simplicity of his manners, had obtained for him ready admission to -the first literary circles.... It would be tedious to recount the -names of all the men of letters and artists whom Frances Burney had an -opportunity of seeing and hearing. This was not all. The distinction -which Dr. Burney had acquired as a musician, and as the historian of -music, attracted to his house the most eminent musical performers of -that age. It was thus in his power to give, with scarcely any expense, -concerts equal to those of the aristocracy. On such occasions the quiet -street in which he lived was blocked up by coroneted chariots, and his -little drawing-room was crowded with peers, peeresses, ministers, and -ambassadors. - -With the literary and fashionable society which occasionally met under -Dr. Burney’s roof, Frances can scarcely be said to have mingled. She -was not a musician, and could therefore bear no part in the concerts. -She was shy almost to awkwardness, and scarcely ever joined in the -conversation. The slightest remark from a stranger disconcerted her; -and even the old friends of her father who tried to draw her out could -seldom extract more than a Yes or a No. Her figure was small, her face -not distinguished by beauty. She was therefore suffered to withdraw -quietly to the background, and, unobserved herself, to observe all that -passed.... Thus, while still a girl, she had laid up such a store of -materials for fiction as few of those who mix much in the world are -able to accumulate during a long life. She had watched and listened to -people of every class, from princes and great officers of state down -to artists living in garrets, and poets familiar with subterranean -cook-shops. Hundreds of remarkable persons had passed in review before -her, English, French, German, Italian, lords and fiddlers, deans of -cathedrals, and managers of theatres. - -[Sidenote: ‘Evelina.’] - -The impulse which urged Frances to write became irresistible; and the -result was the history of Evelina. Then came, naturally enough, a wish, -mingled with many fears, to appear before the public.... She had not -money to bear the expense of printing. It was therefore necessary that -some book-seller should be induced to take the risk. - -Dodsley refused even to look at the manuscript unless he were trusted -with the name of the author. A publisher in Fleet Street, named -Lowndes, was more complaisant. Some correspondence took place between -this person and Miss Burney, who took the name of Grafton, and -desired that the letters addressed to her might be left at the Orange -Coffee-house. But, before the bargain was finally struck, Frances -thought it her duty to obtain her father’s consent. She told him that -she had written a book, that she wished to have his permission to -publish it anonymously, but that she hoped that he would not insist -upon seeing it.... He only stared, burst out a-laughing, kissed her, -gave her leave to do as she liked, and never even asked the name of her -work. The contract with Lowndes was speedily concluded. Twenty pounds -were given for the copyright, and were accepted by Fanny with delight. - -LORD MACAULAY: ‘Essay on Mme. D’Arblay,’ _Edinburgh Review_, January, -1843. ‘Critical and Historical Essays.’ New York: Albert Mason, 1875. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Its publication.] - -This year [1778] was ushered in by a grand and most important event! -At the latter end of January, the literary world was favored with the -first publication of the ingenious, learned, and most profound Fanny -Burney!... This admirable authoress has named her most elaborate -performance, ‘Evelina; or, A Young Lady’s Entrance into the World.’ - -Perhaps this may seem a rather bold attempt and title for a female -whose knowledge of the world is very confined, and whose inclinations, -as well as situation, incline her to a private and domestic life. All -I can urge is, that I have only presumed to trace the accidents and -adventures to which a “young woman” is liable; I have not pretended -to show the world what it actually _is_, but what it _appears_ to a -girl of seventeen: and so far as that, surely, any girl who is past -seventeen may safely do?... My Aunt Anne and Miss Humphries being -settled at this time at Brompton, I was going thither with Susan [her -sister] to tea, when Charlotte [another sister] acquainted me that -they were then employed in reading ‘Evelina’ to the invalid, my cousin -Richard. This intelligence gave me the utmost uneasiness--I foresaw a -thousand dangers of a discovery--I dreaded the indiscreet warmth of -all my confidants. In truth, I was quite sick with apprehension, and -was too uncomfortable to go to Brompton, and Susan carried my excuses. -Upon her return, I was somewhat tranquillized, for she assured me that -there was not the smallest suspicion of the author, and that they had -concluded it to be the work of a _man_! - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Mrs. Thrale’s approval.] - -Mrs. Thrale said she had only to complain it was too short. She -recommended it to my mother to read!--how droll!--and she told her she -would be much entertained with it, for there was a great deal of human -life in it, and of the manners of the present times, and added that it -was written “by somebody who knows the top and the bottom, the highest -and the lowest of mankind.” She has even lent her set to my mother, who -brought it home with her! - -FRANCES BURNEY: ‘Diary and Letters,’ revised and edited by Sarah -Chauncey Woolsey. Boston: Roberts Bros., 1880. - - * * * * * - -Madame D’Arblay said she was wild with joy at this decisive evidence of -her literary success [Mrs. Thrale’s approval], and that she could only -give vent to her rapture by dancing and skipping round a mulberry tree -in the garden. - -SIR WALTER SCOTT: _Diary_, November, 1826, in ‘Memoirs,’ by J. G. -Lockhart. Edinburgh: Adam & Charles Black, 1871. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Frances experiments on the publisher.] - -We introduced ourselves by buying the book, for which I had a -commission from Mrs. G----. Fortunately Mr. Lowndes himself was in the -shop; as we found by his air of consequence and authority, as well as -his age; for I never saw him before. - -The moment he had given my mother the book, she asked if he could tell -her who wrote it. “No,” he answered; “I don’t know myself.” “Pho, pho,” -said she; “you mayn’t choose to tell, but you must know.” “I don’t, -indeed, ma’am,” answered he; “I have no honor in keeping the secret, -for I have never been trusted. All I know of the matter is, that it is -a gentleman of the other end of the town.” My mother made a thousand -other inquiries, to which his answers were to the following effect: -that for a great while, he did not know if it was a man or a woman; but -now, he knew that much, and that he was a master of his subject, and -well versed in the manners of the times.... I grinned irresistibly, and -was obliged to look out at the shop-door till we came away. - -[While ill and absent at Chesington], I received from Charlotte a -letter, the most interesting that could be written to me, for it -acquainted me that my dear father was at length reading my book, which -has now been published six months. How this has come to pass, I am yet -in the dark; but, it seems, ... he desired Charlotte to bring him the -_Monthly Review_; she contrived to look over his shoulder as he opened -it, which he did at the account of ‘Evelina.’ He read it with great -earnestness, then put it down; and presently after snatched it up, and -read it again. Doubtless his paternal heart felt some agitation for his -girl in reading a review of her publication! _how_ he got at the name I -cannot imagine. - -[Sidenote: Dr. Burney’s pleasure.] - -Soon after, he turned to Charlotte, ... put his finger on the word -‘Evelina,’ and saying, _she knew what it was_, bade her write down the -name, and send the man to Lowndes’, as if for himself. When William -returned, he took the book from him, and the moment he was gone, -opened the first volume--and opened it upon the _ode_! [dedicating the -book to himself]. How great must have been his astonishment at seeing -himself so addressed! He looked all amazement, read a line or two with -great eagerness, and then, stopping short, he seemed quite affected, -and the tears started into his eyes: dear soul! I am sure they did into -mine. - - * * * * * - -My father, when he took the books back to Streatham, actually -acquainted Mrs. Thrale with my secret. He took an opportunity, when -they were alone together, of saying that, upon her recommendation, he -had himself, as well as my mother, been reading ‘Evelina.’ - -“Well!” cried she, “and is it not a very pretty book? and a very -clever book? and a very comical book?” “Why,” answered he, “’tis well -enough; but I have something to tell you about it.” “Well? what?” cried -she; “has Mrs. Cholmondely found out the author?” “No,” returned he, -“not that I know of; but I believe _I_ have, though but very lately.” -“Well, pray let’s hear!” cried she, eagerly; “I want to know him of all -things.” - -How my father must laugh at the _him_! He then, however, undeceived her -in regard to that particular, by telling her it was “_our Fanny_!” - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Dr. Johnson’s comment.] - -Mrs. Thrale ... at last ... mentioned ‘Evelina.’ [During F. B.’s first -visit to Streatham]. “Yesterday at supper,” said she, “we talked it all -over, and discussed all your characters; but Dr. Johnson’s favorite is -Mr. Smith. He declares the fine gentleman _manqué_ was never better -drawn, and he acted him all the evening, saying ‘he was all for the -ladies!’ He repeated whole scenes by heart. O, you can’t imagine how -much he is pleased with the book; he ‘could not get rid of the rogue,’ -he told me.” - -[Sidenote: Reynolds’ curiosity.] - -Sir Joshua, who began it one day when he was too much engaged to go on -with it, was so much caught, that he could think of nothing else, and -was quite absent all the day, not knowing a word that was said to him; -and, when he took it up again, found himself so much interested in it, -that he sat up all night to finish it! Sir Joshua, it seems, vows he -would give fifty pounds to know the author! - -FRANCES BURNEY: ‘Diary and Letters.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Frances meets Sheridan.] - -And now I must tell you a little conversation which I did not hear -myself till I came home; it was between Mr. Sheridan and my father. -“Dr. Burney,” cries the former, “have you no older daughters? Can this -possibly be the authoress of ‘Evelina’?” And then he said abundance of -fine things, and begged my father to introduce him to me. - -“Why, it will be a very formidable thing to her,” answered he, “to be -introduced to you.” - -“Well, then, by and by,” returned he. - -Some time after this, my eyes happening to meet his, he waived the -ceremony of introduction, and in a low voice said: “I have been telling -Dr. Burney that I have long expected to see Miss Burney a lady of the -gravest appearance, with the quickest parts.” I was never much more -astonished than at this unexpected address, as among all my numerous -puffers the name of Sheridan has never reached me, and I did really -imagine he had never deigned to look at my trash. Of course I could -make no verbal answer, and he proceeded then to speak of ‘Evelina’ in -terms of the highest praise; but I was in such a ferment from surprise -(not to say pleasure), that I have no recollection of his expressions. -I only remember telling him that I was much amazed he had spared time -to read it, and that he repeatedly called it a most surprising book. - -FRANCES BURNEY: ‘_Letter to Susan Burney_,’ in ‘Diary and Letters.’ - - * * * * * - -I often think when I am counting my laurels, what a pity it would have -been had I popped off in my last illness, without knowing what a person -of consequence I was!--and I sometimes think that, were I now to have a -relapse, I never could go off with so much _éclat_!... I have already, -I fear, reached the pinnacle of my abilities, and therefore to stand -still will be my best policy. - -[Sidenote: ‘Cecilia.’] - -My work is too long in all conscience for the hurry of my people to -have it produced. I have a thousand million of fears for it. The mere -copying, without revising and correcting, would take at least ten -weeks, for I cannot do more than a volume in a fortnight unless I -scrawl short hand and rough hand as badly as the original. Yet my dear -father thinks it will be published in a month!... I have copied one -volume and a quarter--no more! Oh, I am sick to think of it! Yet not -a little reviving is my father’s very high approbation of the first -volume, which is all he has seen. Would you ever believe, bigoted as he -was to ‘Evelina,’ that he now says he thinks this a superior design -and superior execution?... One thing frets me a good deal, which is, -that my book affair has got wind, and seems almost everywhere known, -notwithstanding my eagerness and caution to have it kept snug to the -last.... The book, in short, to my great consternation, I find is -talked of and expected all the town over. - -FRANCES BURNEY: ‘Diary and Letters.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Its success.] - -What Miss Burney received for the copyright is not mentioned in the -‘Diary’, but we have observed several expressions from which we infer -that the sum was considerable. We have been told that the publishers -gave her two thousand pounds, and we have no doubt that they might have -given a still larger sum without being losers. - -LORD MACAULAY: ‘Essay on Mme. D’Arblay.’ - - * * * * * - -Oh! it beats every other book, even your own other volumes, for -‘Evelina’ was a baby to it. Such a novel! Indeed, I am seriously and -sensibly touched by it, and am proud of her friendship who so knows the -human heart. - -MRS. THRALE: _Letter to Fanny Burney_, in the latter’s ‘Diary and -Letters.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Burke’s criticism.] - -He very emphatically congratulated me upon its most universal success; -said, “he was now too late to speak of it, since he could only echo the -voice of the whole nation.”... He then told me that, notwithstanding -his admiration, he was the man who had dared to find some faults with -so favorite and fashionable a work. I entreated him to tell me what -they were, and assured him nothing would make me so happy as to correct -them under his direction.... He wished the conclusion either more happy -or more miserable; “for in a work of imagination,” said he, “there is -no medium.” I was not easy enough to answer him, or I have much, though -perhaps not good for much, to say in defense of following life and -nature as much in the conclusion as in the progress of a tale; and when -is life and nature completely happy or miserable? - -FRANCES BURNEY: _Letter to Susan Burney_, in ‘Diary and Letters.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Accounts of Frances at this period.] - -Next to the balloon [on exhibition in the Pantheon] Miss Burney is -the object of public curiosity; I had the pleasure of meeting her -yesterday. She is a very unaffected, modest, sweet, and pleasing -young lady: but you, now I think of it, are a Goth, and have not read -‘Cecilia.’ Read, read it, for shame! - -ANNA L. BARBAULD: _Letter to her brother_, Jan., 1784, in ‘Memoir,’ by -Grace A. Ellis (Oliver). Boston: J. R. Osgood & Co., 1874. - - * * * * * - -I am sure you are acquainted with the novel entitled ‘Cecilia,’ -much admired for its good sense, variety of character, delicacy of -sentiment, etc., etc. There is nothing good, amiable, and agreeable -mentioned in the book, that is not possessed by the author of it, Miss -Burney. - -I have now been acquainted with her three years: her extreme diffidence -of herself, notwithstanding her great genius and the applause she has -met with, adds lustre to all her excellences, and all improve on -acquaintance. - -MRS. DELANY: _Letter to Mrs. F. Hamilton_, 1786, in, the former’s -‘Autobiography and Correspondence,’ revised and edited by Sarah -Chauncey Woolsey. Boston: Roberts Bros., 1879. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: She meets King George III.] - -In December, 1785, Miss Burney was on a visit to Mrs. Delany at -Windsor. The dinner was over. The old lady was taking a nap. Her -grand-niece, a little girl of seven, was playing at some Christmas -game with the visitors, when the door opened, and a stout gentleman -entered unannounced, with a star on his breast, and “What? what? what?” -in his mouth. A cry of “the king” was set up. A general scampering -followed. Miss Burney owns that she could not have been more terrified -if she had seen a ghost. But Mrs. Delany came forward to pay her duty -to her royal friend, and the disturbance was quieted. Frances was then -presented, and underwent a long examination and cross-examination about -all that she had written and all that she meant to write. The queen -soon made her appearance, and his majesty repeated, for the benefit of -his consort, the information which he had extracted from Miss Burney. -The good-nature of the royal pair could not but be delightful to a -young lady who had been brought up a Tory. In a few days the visit -was repeated. Miss Burney was more at ease than before. His majesty, -instead of seeking for information, condescended to impart it, and -passed sentence on many great writers, English and foreign. Voltaire -he pronounced a monster. Rousseau he liked rather better. “But was -there ever,” he cried, “such stuff as great part of Shakespeare? Only -one must not say so. But what think you? What? Is there not sad stuff? -What? What?” - -[Sidenote: She enters the queen’s service.] - -... Frances was fascinated by the condescending kindness of the two -great personages to whom she had been presented. Her father was even -more infatuated than herself. The result was a step of which we cannot -think with patience.... A German lady of the name of Haggerdorn, one -of the keepers of the queen’s robes, retired about this time, and her -majesty offered the vacant post to Miss Burney.... What was demanded of -her was, that she should consent to be almost as completely separated -from her family and friends as if she had gone to Calcutta, and almost -as close a prisoner as if she had been sent to jail for a libel; that -with talents which had instructed and delighted the highest living -minds, she should now be employed only in mixing snuff and sticking -pins; that she should be summoned by a waiting-woman’s bell to a -waiting-woman’s duties; that she should pass her whole life under the -restraints of paltry etiquette, should sometimes fast till she was -ready to swoon with hunger, should sometimes stand till her knees gave -way with fatigue; that she should not dare to speak or move without -considering how her mistress might like her words and gestures. Instead -of those distinguished men and women, the flower of all political -parties, with whom she had been in the habit of mixing on terms of -equal friendship, she was to have for her perpetual companion the chief -keeper of the robes, an old hag from Germany, of mean understanding, -of insolent manners, and of temper which, naturally savage, had now -been exasperated by disease. Now and then, indeed, poor Frances might -console herself for the loss of Burke’s and Windham’s society, by -joining in the “celestial colloquy sublime” of his majesty’s equerries. - -And what was the consideration for which she was to sell herself into -this slavery? A peerage in her own right? A pension of two thousand a -year for life? A seventy-four for her brother in the navy? A deanery -for her brother in the church? Not so. The price at which she was -valued was her board, her lodging, the attendance of a man-servant, and -two hundred pounds a year. - -LORD MACAULAY: ‘Essay on Mme. D’Arblay.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Life as Second Keeper of the Robes.] - -I rise at six o’clock, dress in a morning gown and cap, and wait my -first summons, which is at all times from seven to near eight, but -commonly in the exact half hour between them. The queen never sends -for me till her hair is dressed. This, in a morning, is always done -by her wardrobe-woman, Mrs. Thielky. The queen’s dress is finished by -Mrs. Thielky and myself. No maid ever enters the room while the queen -is in it. Mrs. Thielky hands the things to me, and I put them on. ’Tis -fortunate for me I have not the handing them! I should never know which -to take first, embarrassed as I am, and should run a prodigious risk of -giving the gown before the hoop, and the fan before the neckerchief. -By eight o’clock, or a little after, for she is extremely expeditious, -she is dressed.... I then return to my own room to breakfast. I make -this meal the most pleasant part of the day; I have a book for my -companion, and I allow myself an hour for it. At nine o’clock I send -off my breakfast things, and relinquish my book, to make a serious -and steady examination of every thing I have upon my hands in the way -of business--in which preparations for dress are always included, not -for the present day alone, but for the court-days, which require a -particular dress; for the next arriving birthday of any of the royal -family, every one of which requires new apparel; for Kew, where the -dress is plainest; and for going on here, where the dress is very -pleasant to me, requiring no show nor finery, but merely to be neat, -not inelegant, and moderately fashionable. - -That over, I have my time at my own disposal till a quarter before -twelve, except on Wednesdays, when I have it only to a quarter before -eleven. My rummages and business sometimes occupy me uninterruptedly to -those hours. When they do not, I give till ten to necessary letters ... -and from ten to the times I have mentioned, I devote to walking. - -These times mentioned called me to the irksome and quick-returning -labors of the toilette. The hour advanced on the Wednesdays and -Saturdays is for curling and craping the hair, which it now requires -twice a week. - -A quarter before one is the usual time for the queen to begin dressing -for the day. Mrs. Schwellenberg then constantly attends; so do I; Mrs. -Thielky, of course, at all times. We help her off with her gown, and -on with her powdering things, and then the hair-dresser is admitted. -She generally reads the newspapers during that operation.... She never -forgets to send me away while she is powdering, with a consideration -not to spoil my clothes, which one would not expect belonged to her -high station. I finish, if anything is undone, my dress, she then takes -‘Baretti’s Dialogues,’ or some such disjointed matter, for the few -minutes that elapse ere I am again summoned. I find her then always -removed to her state dressing-room. Then, in a very short time, her -dress is finished. She then says she won’t detain me, and I hear and -see no more of her till bedtime. - -It is commonly about three o’clock when I am thus set at large. And -I have then two hours quite at my own disposal; but, in the natural -course of things, not a moment after! At five, we have dinner. Mrs. -Schwellenberg and I are commonly _tête-à-tête_: when there is anybody -added, it is from her invitation only. When we have dined, we go up -stairs to her apartment, which is directly over mine. Here we have -coffee till the _terracing_ is over: this is at about eight o’clock. -Our _tête-à-tête_ then finishes, and we come down again to the -eating-room. There the equerry, whoever he is, comes to tea constantly, -and with him any gentleman that the king or queen may have invited for -the evening; and when tea is over, he conducts them, and goes himself, -to the concert-room. This is commonly about nine o’clock. - -From that time, if Mrs. Schwellenberg is alone, I never quit her for a -minute, till I come to my little supper at near eleven. Between eleven -and twelve my last summons usually takes place, earlier and later -occasionally. Twenty minutes is the customary time then spent with -the queen: half an hour, I believe, is seldom exceeded. I then come -back, and after doing whatever I can to forward my dress for the next -morning, I go to bed and to sleep, too, believe me, the moment I have -put out my candle and laid down my head. - -FRANCES BURNEY: ‘Diary and Letters.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: An explanatory analysis.] - -The ‘Diary’ reveals an exceptionally warm heart and a disposition -very strangely compounded of good sense and sensitiveness, quick -impulse and persistent loyalty, strong powers of judgment coupled with -an almost morbid self-distrust, and tastes so simple and domestic -that, in spite of all her friends felt at the time, and critics have -written since, about the years she wasted at court, it is difficult to -escape the conviction that wherever Frances Burney’s lot had fallen, -her quick womanly sympathies and active interest in the affairs of -life would have hindered her from giving her best time and energy to -literary work. She might have found a happier slavery, perhaps, in her -father’s house or in a home of her own than in the royal household, -but a slave to other people’s whims and fancies, as well as to their -tempers and serious necessities, she would probably have been wherever -she had lived, for the simple reason that she was above all things -affectionate, and cared more for the goodwill of those about her than -for any other worldly consideration. She wrote ‘Evelina’ because the -world amused her, and she was too shy to say in any other way how -much it amused her. She wrote ‘Cecilia’ because the world told her it -was amused by her, and that she could make her fortune by going on -amusing it. But even in this second book there were indications that -the natural spring was pretty nearly exhausted, while a deterioration -of style betrayed the fact that her mastery of the means of literary -expression was not sufficient to keep her works up to the mark when the -vivacity of the first spontaneous impulse should be spent. She might -have overcome this disadvantage by laborious training of her talent; -but for this she had no inclination, or at any rate not inclination -enough to conquer her fears of the contemporary prejudice against -learned women. Even in the house of Mrs. Thrale, she describes herself -as hiding a book under a chair-cushion, so as not to be caught in the -unfeminine act of reading; and when Johnson began to teach her Latin, -she was weak enough to back out of the lessons, fearing that they would -win her the reputation of a blue-stocking. Johnson liked her none -the less for her timidity, and neither need we. But it is as well to -remember these things when apportioning the blame for her falling away -from literature. She used her literary talent first as an outlet for -her surplus wit and wisdom, and next as a means of making money; but -she had not sufficient love of literature to induce her to sacrifice to -it a jot of even conventional esteem. - -MARY ELIZABETH CHRISTIE: ‘Miss Burney’s Novels,’ in _Contemporary -Review_, December, 1882. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Frances’ ill health.] - -The health of poor Frances began to give way; and all who saw her -pale face, her emaciated figure, and her feeble walk, predicted that -her sufferings would soon be over. Frances uniformly speaks of her -royal mistress and of the princesses with respect and affection. The -princesses ... were, we doubt not, most amiable women. But “the sweet -queen,” as she is constantly called in these volumes, is not by any -means an object of admiration to us.... She seems to have been utterly -regardless of the comfort, the health, the life of her attendants, -when her own convenience was concerned. Weak, feverish, hardly able -to stand, Frances had still to rise before seven, in order to dress -the sweet queen, and sit up till midnight, in order to undress the -sweet queen.... The whisper that she was in a decline spread through -the court. The pains in her side became so severe that she was -forced to crawl from the card-table of the old fury to whom she was -tethered, three or four times in an evening, for the purpose of taking -harts-horn. Had she been a negro slave, a humane planter would have -excused her from work. But her majesty showed no mercy. Thrice a day -the accursed bell still rang.... Horace Walpole wrote to Frances to -express his sympathy. Boswell, boiling over with good-natured rage, -almost forced an entrance into the palace to see her. Burke and -Reynolds, though less noisy, were zealous in the same cause. Windham -spoke to Dr. Burney.... At last paternal affection, medical authority, -and the voice of all London crying shame, triumphed over Dr. Burney’s -love of courts. He determined that Frances should write a letter of -resignation.... In return for all the misery which she had undergone, -and for the health which she had sacrificed, an annuity of one hundred -pounds was granted to her, dependent on the queen’s pleasure. Then the -prison was opened, and Frances was free once more.... Happy days and -tranquil nights soon restored the health which the queen’s toilette -and Madame Schwellenberg’s card-table had impaired. - -LORD MACAULAY: ‘Essay on Mme. D’Arblay.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: M. D’Arblay described.] - -He is tall, and a good figure, with an open and manly countenance; -about forty, I imagine.... He seems to me a true _militaire, -franc et loyal_--open as the day--warmly affectionate to his -friends--intelligent, ready, and amusing in conversation, with a great -share of _gaieté de cœur_, and at the same time of _naïveté_ and _bonne -foi_. - -SUSAN BURNEY (Mrs. Phillips): _Letters to Frances Burney_, in the -latter’s ‘Diary and Letters.’ - - * * * * * - -M. D’Arblay is one of the most singularly interesting characters -that can ever have been formed. He has a sincerity, a frankness, an -ingenuous openness of nature, that I had been unjust enough to think -could not belong to a Frenchman. With all this, which is his military -portion, he is passionately fond of literature, a most delicate critic -in his own language, well versed in both Italian and German, and a -very elegant poet. He has just undertaken to become my French master -for pronunciation, and he gives me long daily lessons in reading. Pray -expect wonderful improvements! In return, I hear him in English. - -FRANCES BURNEY: _Letter to Dr. Burney_, February, 1793, in ‘Diary and -Letters.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: At work on ‘Camilla,’ after her marriage.] - -I have a long work, which a long time has been in hand, that I mean to -publish soon--in about a year. Should it succeed ... it may be a little -portion to our Bambino. We wish, therefore, to print it for ourselves -in this hope; but the expenses of the press are so enormous, so raised -by these late Acts, that it is out of all question for us to afford -it. We have, therefore, been led by degrees to listen to counsel of -some friends, and to print it by subscription. This is in many--many -ways unpleasant and unpalatable to us both; but the real chance of real -use and benefit to our little darling overcomes all scruples, and, -therefore, to work we go! - -FRANCES D’ARBLAY: _Letter to a friend_, 1795, in ‘Diary and Letters.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Its success.] - -I am quite happy in what I have escaped of greater severity [from the -reviews], though my mate cannot bear that the palm should be contested -by ‘Evelina’ and ‘Cecilia’; his partiality rates the last as so much -the highest.... The essential success of ‘Camilla’ exceeds that of the -elders. The sale is truly astonishing. Five hundred only remain of four -thousand, and it has appeared scarcely three months. - -FRANCES D’ARBLAY: Letter to Dr. Burney, 1796, in ‘Diary and Letters.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Walpole’s criticism.] - -I will only reply by a word or two to a question you seem to ask; how I -like ‘Camilla’? I do not care to say how little. Alas! she has reversed -experience, which I have long thought reverses its own utility by -coming at the wrong end of our life when we do not want it. This author -knew the world and penetrated characters before she had stepped over -the threshold; and, now she has seen so much of it, she has little or -no insight at all. - -HORACE WALPOLE: _Letter to Hannah More_, 1796. - - * * * * * - -Dr. Burney asked me about deplorable ‘Camilla.’ Alas! I had not -recovered of it enough to be loud in its praise. - -HORACE WALPOLE: _Letter to Miss Berry_, 1796. ‘The Letters of Horace -Walpole, Earl of Oxford.’ London: Henry G. Bohn, 1867. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: ‘The Hermitage,’ West Hamble.] - -We are going immediately to build a little cottage for ourselves. We -shall make it as small and as cheap as will accord with its being warm -and comfortable. We mean to make this a property salable or lettable -for our Alex. - -FRANCES D’ARBLAY: _Letter to Dr. Burney_, 1796, in ‘Diary and Letters.’ - - * * * * * - -I need not say how I shall rejoice to see you again, nor how charmed we -shall both be to make a nearer acquaintance with Mr. Broome; but, for -Heaven’s sake, my dear girl, how are we to give him a dinner?--unless -he will bring with him his poultry, for ours are not yet arrived; and -his fish, for ours are still at the bottom of some pond we know not -where; and his spit, for our jack is yet without one; not to mention -his table-linen;--and not to speak of his knives and forks, some ten of -our poor original twelve having been massacred in M. D’Arblay’s first -essays in the art of carpentering;--and to say nothing of his large -spoons, the silver of our plated ones having feloniously made off under -cover of the whitening brush;--and not to talk of his cook, ours being -not yet hired;--and not to start the subject of wine, ours, by some odd -accident, still remaining at the wine-merchants! - -With all these impediments, however, to convivial hilarity, if he will -eat a quarter of a joint of meat (his share, I mean), tied up by a -packthread, and roasted by a log of wood on the bricks, and declare no -potatoes so good as those dug by M. D’Arblay out of our garden--and -protest our small beer gives the spirits of champagne--and pronounce -that bare walls are superior to tapestry--and promise us the first -sight of his epistle upon visiting a new-built cottage--we shall be -sincerely happy to receive him in our Hermitage. - -FRANCES D’ARBLAY: _Letter to Mrs. Francis_, 1797, in ‘Diary and -Letters.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Poverty.] - -[Sidenote: Generosity.] - -For a considerable time the income on which she, her husband, and her -child subsisted, did not exceed £125 a year. They were too independent -in spirit to accept assistance from friends; too upright to rely on -contingencies; and Madame D’Arblay pursued, in all the minutiæ of -domestic life, a course of self-denial such as, she wrote to her -Susanna, “would make you laugh to see, though perhaps cry to hear.” -With all this, her mind and thoughts were never shut up in her economy. -It was at this period that she originated the invitation sent by her -and M. D’Arblay to his friend the Comte de Narbonne, to make their -cottage his home; and it was also during these straitened circumstances -that she withdrew her comedy of ‘Love and Fashion’ from rehearsal, -in dutiful compliance with the wishes of her father; although the -management of Covent Garden had promised her £400 for the manuscript. - -[Sidenote: Fidelity.] - -Queen Charlotte’s expression, that she was “true as gold,” was -abundantly verified in her friendship. - -SARAH CHAUNCEY WOOLSEY, Edr.: ‘Diary and Letters of Frances Burney, -Mme. D’Arblay.’ - - * * * * * - -The novels give an impression of a singularly keen, clever, observant -woman, with a sense of the ridiculous too much developed to be a very -sympathetic, or even safe, friend.... - -She is seen to best advantage in the book where she appears as -daughter, sister, friend, servant (there is really no other word for -the position she held at court), and finally wife and mother. In the -‘Diary and Letters’ we not only learn how largely voluntary were the -restrictions she imposed upon her literary work, but how much her -private life gained in charm and usefulness by the subordination of the -author’s part; and, learning this, we forgive her the more easily for -having partially hidden the talent which, well husbanded, might have -given us more ‘Evelinas’ and ‘Cecilias.’... Delightful as ‘Evelina’ and -‘Cecilia’ are to those whose taste they suit, it is doubtful whether -we should get more enjoyment out of a dozen novels of the same quality -than we do out of these two. And ... at the present moment these two -are more than enough for most people. - -MARY ELIZABETH CHRISTIE: ‘Miss Burney’s Novels.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Her old age.] - -I attended her during the last twenty years of her long life. She -lived in almost total seclusion from all but a few members of her own -family; changed her lodgings more frequently than her dresses and -occupied herself laboriously in composing those later works which -retain so little of the charm of her earlier writings. Mr. Rogers was -the only literary man who seemed to know of her existence. - -SIR HENRY HOLLAND: ‘Recollections of Past Life.’ New York: D. Appleton -& Co., 1872. - - * * * * * - -Was introduced by Rogers to Mme. D’Arblay, the celebrated authoress of -‘Evelina’ and ‘Cecilia’--an elderly lady, with no remains of personal -beauty, but with a simple and gentle manner, a pleasing expression of -countenance, and apparently quick feelings. - -SIR WALTER SCOTT: _Diary_, November, 1826, in ‘Memoirs,’ by J. G. -Lockhart. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Miss Mitford’s criticism.] - -I do not think very highly of Mme. D’Arblay’s books. The style is -so strutting. She does so stalk about on Dr. Johnson’s old stilts. -What she says wants so much translating into common English, and when -translated would seem so commonplace, that I have always felt strongly -tempted to read all the serious parts with my fingers’ ends.... A novel -should be as like life as a painting, but not as like life as a piece -of wax-work. Mme. D’Arblay has much talent, but no taste. Another fault -is the sameness of her characters; they all say one thing twenty times -over.... They have but one note. - -MARY RUSSELL MITFORD: _Letters to Sir W. Elford_, in ‘Life,’ edited by -Rev. A. G. L’Estrange. London: Richard Bentley, 1870. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: ‘A very woman.’] - -Madame D’Arblay is quite of the old school, a mere common observer of -manners, and also a very woman. It is this last circumstance which -forms the peculiarity of her writings. She is a quick, lively, and -accurate observer of persons and things; but she always looks at them -with a consciousness of her sex, and in that point of view in which -it is the particular business and interest of women to observe them. -There is little in her works of passion or character, or even manners, -in the most extended sense of the word, as implying the sum total of -our habits and pursuits; her _forte_ is in describing the absurdities -and affectations of external behavior, or _the manners of people in -company_. Her characters, which are ingenious caricatures, are, no -doubt, distinctly marked, and well kept up; but they are slightly -shaded, and exceedingly uniform. Her heroes and heroines, almost all -of them, depend upon the stock of a single phrase or sentiment, and -have certain mottoes or devices by which they may always be known. -They form such characters as people might be supposed to assume for a -night at a masquerade.... The Braughtons are the best. Mr. Smith is an -exquisite city portrait. ‘Evelina’ is also her best novel, because it -is the shortest; that is, it has all the liveliness in the sketches of -character, and smartness of comic dialogue and repartee, without the -tediousness of the story, and endless affectation of sentiment which -disfigures the others. - -WILLIAM HAZLITT: _Lecture on the English Novelists_, in ‘Lecture on -the English Poets, and the English Comic Writers,’ edited by Wm. Carew -Hazlitt. London: Bell & Daldy, 1869. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Accused of superficiality.] - -She is sometimes accused of being superficial, because she dares -so little in the direction of the stronger and deeper passions and -interests of human nature. But this criticism is itself superficial: -the truer word for her is _reserved_. She shut the door upon the whole -range of bold speculation and unconventional feeling, because she -considered these things unfit for the novelist, and especially for the -female novelist, to treat of. But her own feelings were deep, and her -own interests and sympathies were wide; and in drawing her characters, -though she seldom attempts to paint much--save in conventional -outline--that goes below the surface, she yet shows at all times, by -the firmness and consistency of her creations, that she possessed the -root of the matter in understanding, if not in creative power and -courage of execution. - -MARY ELIZABETH CHRISTIE: ‘Miss Burney’s Novels.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Her art not the highest.] - -We are forced to refuse Madame D’Arblay a place in the highest rank of -art; but we cannot deny that, in the rank to which she belonged, she -had few equals, and scarcely any superior. The variety of humors which -is to be found in her novels is immense; and though the talk of each -person separately is monotonous, the general effect is not monotony, -but a very lively and agreeable diversity. Her plots are rudely -constructed and improbable, if we consider them in themselves. But they -are admirably framed for the purpose of exhibiting striking groups of -eccentric characters, each governed by his own peculiar whim, each -talking his own peculiar jargon, and each bringing out by opposition -the peculiar oddities of all the rest. - -Madame D’Arblay was most successful in comedy, and indeed in comedy -which bordered on farce. But we are inclined to infer from some -passages, both in ‘Cecilia’ and ‘Camilla,’ that she might have attained -equal distinction in the pathetic. We have formed this judgment less -from those ambitious scenes of distress which lie near the catastrophe -of each of these novels than from some exquisite strokes of natural -tenderness which take us here and there by surprise. - -[Sidenote: Unique position of ‘Evelina.’] - -It is not only on account of the intrinsic merit of Madame D’Arblay’s -early works that she is entitled to honorable mention. Her appearance -is an important epoch in our literary history. ‘Evelina’ was the -first tale written by a woman, and purporting to be a picture of life -and manners, that lived or deserved to live. Indeed, most of the -popular novels which preceded ‘Evelina’ were such as no lady would -have written; and many of them were such as no lady could without -confusion own that she had read. Miss Burney did for the English novel -what Jeremy Collier did for the English drama; and she did it in a -better way. She first showed that a tale might be written in which -both the fashionable and the vulgar life of London might be exhibited -with great force, and with broad comic humor, and which yet should -not contain a single line inconsistent with rigid morality. She took -away the reproach which lay on a most useful and delightful species of -composition. She vindicated the right of her sex to an equal share -in a fair and noble province of letters. The fact that she has been -surpassed gives her an additional claim to our respect and gratitude; -for, in truth, we owe to her, not only ‘Evelina,’ ‘Cecilia,’ and -‘Camilla,’ but also ‘Mansfield Park’ and the ‘Absentee.’ - -LORD MACAULAY: ‘Essay on Mme. D’Arblay.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Plan of work.] - -[Sidenote: Her heroes and heroines.] - -The very gift that first made Miss Burney’s reputation now stands in -the way of her popularity. She was so completely mistress of the art -of letting her personages reveal their own characters, that she could -afford to dispense to an unusual extent with the showman’s part. She -constructed her personages not from within (as is the modern fashion) -but by means of a thousand minute touches showing their conversation -and behavior in an infinite variety of such small circumstances as make -up the daily round of existence. She positively reveled in descriptive -_minutiæ_ of this sort. Nothing was too trivial for her, nothing too -intricate in the web of petty embarrassments and mortifications and -misunderstandings, that make the sum of a vast majority of human -lives, and a tremendous factor of the remainder. Thanks to unusually -buoyant spirits and a never-flagging sense of the ridiculous, she -was constantly amused where others are only bored; and according to -the infallible rule that, given the necessary powers of expression, -authors never bore till they are bored themselves, she was able to make -amusing to others the commonplace things that afforded entertainment to -herself. Moreover, her success in her own day was quite as much due to -the fact that her material was commonplace as to the keen perception -of character, and the racy humor she displayed in working it up. Only -the chosen few might appreciate her literary skill, but it needed no -special gifts of culture to enter into the agitations of Evelina’s -first ball. However, it is necessary to understand a situation or a -character before we can be amused by it. And as nothing in life changes -so fast as its surface, the author who gives most pains to the finish -of this, is also the first to become obsolete. Fashions in manner and -dress and speech are proverbially ephemeral, and except for those in -whom the antiquarian taste has been somehow developed, they lose charm -and even meaning in passing out of date. Heroes and heroines, whose -coats and gowns, and courtesies and bows, are all behind the time, -of whom the colloquial talk is a forgotten jargon, and the ceremony -as strange as the ritual of a foreign religion, stand no chance in -competition with the crowd of ladies and gentlemen who are daily turned -out by contemporary novelists, wearing costumes and talking a language -of which every fold and every phrase makes a claim upon the reader’s -sympathy, and an item in the general index to the author’s meaning. -Miss Burney’s personages, once so fashionable and so familiar, have -grown strange now that a century has passed over their heads; and -though underneath the disguise of their Old World costumes they are -still fresh and human, this is a secret only to be discovered at the -cost of more careful reading than the modern world is apt to give to -novels. - -MARY ELIZABETH CHRISTIE: ‘Miss Burney’s Novels.’ - - - - - MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT (GODWIN). - - 1759-1797. - - - - - MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT (GODWIN). - - -Mary Wollstonecraft was born, it is supposed, in Epping Forest, on the -27th of April, 1759. The unhappy circumstances of her childhood and -youth are sufficiently sketched in the following extracts. In 1778 -she obtained a position as companion to a widow in Bath, where she -continued for two years. In 1780, while the family were residing in -Enfield, her mother died, leaving six children: Edward, Mary, Everina, -Eliza, James and Charles. The younger ones were all, at some period of -their lives, indebted to Mary for sisterly encouragement and pecuniary -aid, for which they do not appear to have been duly grateful. - -After her mother’s death Mary lived for a short time at the home -of her friend, Fanny Blood, at Walham Green, supporting herself by -needle-work, but was soon called to the care of her sister Eliza, (then -Mrs. Bishop), who was temporarily insane. On Mrs. Bishop’s recovery -she left her husband, and the two sisters went to Islington, where -they endeavored to live by teaching. In a few months Mary removed to -Newington Green, where she was successful in setting up a school. In -the autumn of 1785, however, she was summoned to Fanny Blood (then Mrs. -Skeys), who was ill in Lisbon; and on her return, after Fanny’s death, -she found that it was impossible to regain her pupils. At this time she -wrote a small pamphlet called _Thoughts on the Education of Daughters_, -for which Mr. Johnson, a bookseller in Fleet Street, gave her ten -guineas. She applied the money to the relief of Fanny Blood’s parents. -A situation as governess being offered her, she went to Ireland, where -she remained until the autumn of 1788; she then came to London to earn -her living by her pen. At this period she wrote _Mary_, a tale drawn -from her own friendship with Fanny Blood, and not now to be found; -_Original Stories from Real Life_, a book for children, published -with cuts by William Blake; translated for Mr. Johnson ‘Necker on -Religious Opinions,’ Salzman’s ‘Elements of Morality,’ and Lavater’s -‘Physiognomy,’ and contributed to the Analytical Review. In 1791 she -put forth an answer to Burke’s ‘Reflections on the French Revolution,’ -entitled _A Vindication of the Rights of Man_; this was followed by her -_magnum opus_, A VINDICATION OF THE RIGHTS OF WOMAN. - -In December, 1792, she went to Paris; was detained there by the state -of public affairs; and in 1793 became, says Mr. C. Kegan Paul, “the -wife” of Gilbert Imlay. Her modern biographer and defender has chosen -thus to mark unmistakably his fine reverence for her purity of motive; -but more than half the significance of the tragedy that followed is -lost by regarding Mary as Imlay’s wife. Their daughter, Fanny Imlay, -was born in the spring of 1794. Imlay gradually disengaged himself from -Mary; and on her return to London from a voyage to Norway and Sweden, -undertaken to assist him in business affairs, she had poignant proof -of his unfaithfulness and his intention to desert her. She attempted -to drown herself in the Thames. She was rescued, took up the burden of -life again for Fanny’s sake, and lived to marry William Godwin, the -author of ‘Caleb Williams’ and ‘Political Justice.’ On the 30th of -August, 1797, was born Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin, afterwards the wife -of Shelley; and on the 10th of September the mother died. - -Mary had previously published (1794) the first volume of _An Historical -and Moral View of the Origin and Progress of the French Revolution_, -and _Letters Written During a Short Residence in Sweden, Norway and -Denmark_. After her death Godwin published _Posthumous Works by the -Author of A Vindication, etc._, comprising a horrible unfinished novel -called _Maria; or, the Wrongs of Woman_, her LETTERS TO IMLAY, and to -her friend, Mr. Johnson, an incomplete tale called _The Cave of Fancy_, -an _Essay on Poetry_, a series of _Lessons in Spelling and Reading_, -and a few fragmentary _Hints_ on various subjects. - -Mary Wollstonecraft has a three-fold claim on our attention. She -was “the first of the new genus” of professional literary women, in -contradistinction to the old race of “blue-stockings.” She was the -author of the VINDICATION, which, despite its faults, is “remarkable -as the herald of the demand not even yet wholly conceded by all, that -woman should be the equal and friend, not the slave and toy of man.” -Lastly, as the writer of the heart-breaking LETTERS TO IMLAY, which, -notwithstanding her own views, form, as Lowell has said of her life, -“the most powerful argument possible against the doctrine of the -‘Elective Affinities’,”--Mary Wollstonecraft can never be forgotten. - -Our mosaic portrait is doubtless far from perfect; yet who shall -paint her as she was, without distortion, without idealization? This -beautiful woman, with her “Titianesque” coloring, her careless dress, -and habits frugal that she might be generous--with her quick temper, -sensitiveness, pride, inconsistency, deep personal tenderness; with her -melancholy, and her misunderstood religious enthusiasm; this daughter -of the Revolution, her strong head crowded with theories--some of them, -one would think, to be beaten out of it by all the waves and billows -that went over her. But not so; the circumstances of her marriage with -Godwin, the tendency of the work done during the brief remainder of -her life, show us that we must add tenacity to her characteristics. -This creature, now coarse, now fine, now harsh, and now all pity,--who -shall explore her strength and weakness, her deeps and shallows? It is -natural that in an age better calculated to understand her motives than -that in which she lived, a vindicator should have arisen to call up -out of the past, by the name of Mary Wollstonecraft, a spirit radiant -and purified, like the soul of Ianthe in ‘Queen Mab,’ from every stain -of earthliness. But to make the woman herself live before us, as she -lived in Paris, in London, in those strange days of the close of the -eighteenth century--that would be a task for a pen that has dealt with -character under somewhat similar conditions--the pen of Ivan Turgenef. - -Like Charlotte Brontë, she at last knew happiness before she died. But -thinking of Godwin, “with his great head full of cold brains,” one -cannot but wish that the gleam of sunshine at the close of her stormy -life had been less “winterly.” - - * * * * * - -With her very first years Mary Wollstonecraft began a bitter training -in the school of experience, which was in no small degree instrumental -in developing her character and forming her philosophy. There are few -details of her childhood, and no anecdotes indicating a precocious -genius. But enough is known of her early life to make us understand -what were the principal influences to which she was exposed. Her -strength sprang from the very uncongeniality of her home and her -successful struggles against the poverty and vice which surrounded her. - -[Sidenote: Her parents.] - -Her father was a selfish, hot-tempered despot, whose natural bad -qualities were aggravated by his dissipated habits. His chief -characteristic was his instability. He could persevere in nothing. -Apparently brought up to no special profession, he was by turns -a gentleman of leisure, a farmer, a man of business. It seems to -have been sufficient for him to settle in any one place to almost -immediately wish to depart from it. The history of the first fifteen -or twenty years of his married life is that of one long series of -migrations. - -Mrs. Wollstonecraft was her husband’s most abject slave, but was in -turn somewhat of a tyrant herself. She approved of stern discipline for -the young. She was too indolent to give much attention to the education -of her children, and devoted what little energy she possessed to -enforcing their unquestioning obedience in trifles, and to making them -as afraid of her displeasure as they were of their father’s anger. - -[Sidenote: Sad childhood.] - -Mary was one of those children whose sad fate it is to weep “in the -play-time of the others.” Not even to the David Copperfields and Paul -Dombeys of fiction has there fallen a lot so hard to bear and so sad -to record, as that of the little Mary Wollstonecraft.... Overflowing -with tenderness, she dared not lavish it on the mother who should have -been so ready to receive it. Instead of the confidence which should -exist between mother and daughter, there was in their case nothing -but cold formality. Nor was there for her much compensation in the -occasional caresses of her father. Sensitive to a fault, she could not -forgive his blows and unkindness so quickly as to be able to enjoy his -smiles and favors. Moreover, she had little chance of finding, without, -the devotion and gentle care which were denied to her within her own -family. Mr. Wollstonecraft remained so short a time in each locality in -which he made his home that his wife saw but little of her relations -and old acquaintances; while no sooner had his children made new -friends, than they were separated from them. - -[Sidenote: Friendship with Fanny Blood.] - -Mary’s existence up to 1775 had been, save when disturbed by family -storms, quiet, lonely, and uneventful. As yet no special incident had -occurred in it, nor had she been awakened to intellectual activity. But -in Hoxton she contracted a friendship which, though it was with a girl -of her own age, was always esteemed by her as the chief and leading -event in her existence. This it was which first aroused her love of -study and of independence, and opened a channel for the outpouring of -her too long suppressed affections. Her love for Fanny Blood was the -spark which kindled the latent fire of her genius.... From the moment -they met until they were separated by poor Fanny’s untimely death, -Mary never wavered in her devotion and its active expression, nor could -the vicissitudes and joys of her later life destroy her loving loyalty -to the memory of her first and dearest friend. “When a warm heart has -strong impressions,” she wrote in a letter long years afterward, “they -are not to be effaced. Emotions become sentiments; and the imagination -renders even transient sensations permanent, by fondly retracing them. -I cannot without a thrill of delight recollect views I have seen, which -are not to be forgotten, nor looks I have felt in every nerve, which -I shall never more meet. The grave has closed over a dear friend, the -friend of my youth; still she is present with me, and I hear her soft -voice warbling as I stray over the heath.” - -ELIZABETH ROBINS PENNELL: ‘Life of Mary Wollstonecraft.’ (Famous Women -Series.) Boston: Roberts Bros., 1884. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Unfortunate experience.] - -It is singularly unfortunate that Mary Wollstonecraft was fated, as it -were, to see the unattractive side of almost all the great institutions -of society with which she was brought into contact: marriage, -education, particularly religious education as administered at Eton, -and aristocratic life. Her views on all these subjects were colored by -her own personal experiences. She generalized from particulars, and -never suspected that such a one-sided view must be partially unfair. - -C. KEGAN PAUL: _Prefatory Memoir_ to Mary Wollstonecraft’s ‘Letters to -Imlay.’ London: C. Kegan Paul & Co., 1879. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Impressions of married life.] - -[The family life of the Blood household, of which Mary was for a -time, after her mother’s death, an inmate, was as utterly unhappy as -that of the Wollstonecrafts: Mr. Blood being “a ne’er-do-well and a -drunkard.” Mary was “an immediate witness” of similar and still more -painful scenes in the home of her sister Eliza, who had married a Mr. -Bishop, a man described by one of his own friends as “either a lion or -a spaniel--” fawning abroad, tyrannical at home. I subjoin extracts -from two of Mary’s letters to her other sister, Everina, which seem to -me to illustrate her experience more forcibly than the narrative of her -biographers.] - - December, 1783. - -Poor Eliza’s situation almost turns my brain. I can’t stay and see this -continual misery, and to leave her to bear it by herself without anyone -to comfort her, is still more distressing.... Nothing can be done till -she leaves the house. I have been some time deliberating on this, for I -can’t help pitying B., but misery must be his portion at any rate till -he alters himself, and that would be a miracle.... I tell you she will -soon be deprived of reason. - - January, 1784. - -Here we are, Everina; but my trembling hand will scarce let me tell you -so. Bess is much more composed than I expected her to be; but ... I -was afraid in the coach she was going to have one of her flights, for -she bit her wedding-ring to pieces.... My heart beats time with every -carriage that rolls by, and a knocking at the door almost throws me -into a fit. I hope B. will not discover us, for I could sooner face a -lion. - -MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT: _Letters_, in ‘William Godwin, His Friends and -Contemporaries,’ by C. Kegan Paul. Boston: Roberts Bros., 1876. - - * * * * * - -[Mary spent some time at Eton as the guest of Mr. Prior, Assistant -Master, through whom she subsequently obtained a situation as governess -in the family of Lord Kingsborough.] - - ETON, Oct., 1787. - -[Sidenote: Impressions of Eton.] - -I could not live the life they lead at Eton; nothing but dress and -ridicule going forward.... Witlings abound and puns fly about like -crackers, though you would scarcely guess they had any meaning in them, -if you did not hear the noise they create. So much company without any -sociability would be to me an insupportable fatigue.... Vanity in one -shape or other reigns triumphant. - -MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT: _Letter to her sister_, in ‘William Godwin, His -Friends and Contemporaries,’ by C. Kegan Paul. - - * * * * * - -In great schools, what can be more prejudicial to the moral character -than the system of tyranny and abject slavery which is established -among the boys, to say nothing of the slavery to forms, which makes -religion worse than a farce? For what good can be expected from -the youth who receives the Sacrament of the Lord’s Supper to avoid -forfeiting a guinea, which he probably afterward spends in some sensual -manner? - -MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT: ‘A Vindication of the Rights of Woman.’ London: -Printed for J. Johnson, No. 72 St. Paul’s Churchyard, 1792. - - * * * * * - -[The following letter was written in Ireland, while Mary was governess -to the daughters of Lord Kingsborough, at a salary of £40 a year.] - - MITCHELSTOWN, Nov., 1787. - -[Sidenote: Impressions of aristocratic society.] - -Confined to the society of a set of silly females, I have no social -converse, and their boisterous spirits and unmeaning laughter exhaust -me, not forgetting hourly domestic bickerings. The topics of matrimony -and dress take their turn, not in a very sentimental style--alas, poor -sentiment! it has no residence here.... Lady K.’s passion for animals -fills up the hours which are not spent in dressing. All her children -have been ill--very disagreeable fevers. Her ladyship visited them in -a formal way, though their situation called forth my tenderness, and -I endeavored to amuse them, while she lavished awkward fondness on -her dogs. I think now I hear her infantine lisps. She rouges--and, in -short, is a fine lady, without fancy or sensibility, - -MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT: _Letter to her sister_, in ‘William Godwin, His -Friends and Contemporaries,’ by C. Kegan Paul. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Adopts literature as a profession.] - -Mr. Johnson [the publisher], whose uncommon kindness, I believe, has -saved me from despair and vexation I shrink back from, and fear to -encounter, assures me that if I exert my talents in writing, I may -support myself in a comfortable way. I am then going to be the first of -a new genus. I tremble at the attempt; yet if I fail _I_ only suffer; -and should I succeed, my dear girls [her sisters Eliza and Everina] -will ever in sickness have a home and a refuge, where for a few months -in the year they may forget the cares that disturb the rest. - -MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT: _Letter to her sister_, 1788, in ‘William Godwin, -His Friends and Contemporaries,’ by C. Kegan Paul. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Dress, etc., at this period.] - -Fuseli found in her a philosophical sloven: her usual dress being a -habit of coarse cloth, black worsted stockings, and a beaver hat, with -her hair hanging lank about her shoulders. - -When the Prince Talleyrand was in this country, in a low condition with -regard to his pecuniary affairs, and visited her, they drank their tea, -and the little wine they took, indiscriminately from tea-cups.[4] - -JOHN KNOWLES: ‘The Life and Writings of Henry Fuseli.’ London: Henry -Colburn & Richard Bentley, 1831. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Account of ‘A Vindication,’ etc.] - -“The main argument” of the work “is built on this simple principle, -that if woman be not prepared by education to become the companion of -man, she will stop the progress of knowledge, for truth must be common -to all, or it will be inefficacious with respect to its influence on -general practice. And how can woman be expected to co-operate, unless -she know why she ought to be virtuous?--unless freedom strengthen -her reason till she comprehend her duty, and see in what manner it -is connected with her real good. If children are to be educated to -understand the true principle of patriotism, their mother must be -a patriot; and the love of mankind, from which an orderly train of -virtues springs, can only be produced by considering the moral and -civil interest of mankind; but the education and situation of woman at -present shuts her out from such investigations.” - -In the carrying out of this argument the most noticeable fact is the -extraordinary plainness of speech, and this it was which caused all -or nearly all the outcry. For Mary Wollstonecraft did not, as has -been supposed, attack the institution of marriage, she did not assail -orthodox religion, she did not directly claim much which at the present -day is claimed for women by those whose arguments obtain respectful -hearing. The book was really a plea for equality of education, a -protest against being deemed only the plaything of man, an assertion -that the intellectual intercourse was that which should chiefly be -desired in marriage, and which made its lasting happiness.... It may, -however, be admitted that her frankness on some subjects is little less -than astounding. - -C. KEGAN PAUL: ‘William Godwin, His Friends and Contemporaries.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Plainness of speech.] - -A plainness of speech, amounting in some places to coarseness, and a -deeply religious tone, are to many modern readers the most curious -features of the book. A century ago men and women were much more -straightforward in their speech than we are to-day. They were not -squeamish. Therefore, when it came to serious discussions for moral -purposes, there was little reason for writers to be timid.... Hers is -the plain speaking of the Jewish law-giver, who has for end the good -of man; and not that of an Aretino, who rejoices in it for its own sake. - -Even more remarkable than this boldness of expression is the strong -vein of piety running through her arguments. Religion to her was as -important as it was to a Wesley or a Bishop Watts. The equality of -man, in her eyes, would have been of small importance had it not been -instituted by man’s Creator.... If women were without souls, they -would, notwithstanding their intellects, have no rights to vindicate. -If the Christian heaven were like the Mahometan paradise, then they -might indeed be looked upon as slaves and playthings of beings who are -worthy of a future life, and hence are infinitely their superiors. -But, though sincerely pious, she despised the meaningless forms of -religion as much as she did social conventionalities, and was as free -in denouncing them. - -ELIZABETH ROBINS PENNELL: ‘Life of Mary Wollstonecraft.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Mary’s view of marriage.] - -At this period a man whose name is now forgotten wished to make Mary -his wife. Her treatment of him was characteristic. He could not have -known her very well, or else he would not have been so foolish as to -represent his financial prosperity as an argument in his favor. For a -woman to sell herself for money, even when the bargain was sanctioned -by the marriage ceremony, was, in her opinion, the unpardonable sin. -Therefore, what he probably intended as an honor, she received as an -insult. She declared that it must henceforward end her acquaintance, -not only with him, but with the third person through whom the offer -was sent. Her letters in connection with this subject bear witness -to the sanctity she attached to the union of man and wife. Her view -in this relation cannot be too prominently brought forward, since, -by manifesting the purity of her principles, light is thrown on her -subsequent conduct. In her first burst of wrath she unbosomed herself -to her ever-sympathetic confidant, Mr. Johnson: - -“Mr. ---- called on me just now. Pray did you know his motive for -calling? I think him impertinently officious. He had left the house -before it had occurred to me in the strong light it does now, or I -should have told him so. My poverty makes me proud. I will not be -insulted.... Pray tell him that I am offended, and do not wish to see -him again.... I can force my spirit to leave my body, but it shall -never bend to support that body. God of heaven, save thy child from -this living death! I scarcely know what I write. My hand trembles; I am -very sick--sick at heart.” - -ELIZABETH ROBINS PENNELL: ‘Life of Mary Wollstonecraft.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Her relations with Fuseli.] - -There is no reason to doubt that if Mr. Fuseli had been disengaged at -the period of their acquaintance, he would have been the man of her -choice.... One of her principal inducements to this step [her visit to -France in 1792] related, I believe, to Mr. Fuseli. She had at first -considered it as reasonable and judicious to cultivate what I may be -permitted to call a platonic affection for him; but she did not, in -the sequel, find all the satisfaction in this plan, which she had -originally expected from it.... She conceived it necessary to snap -the chain of this association in her mind; and, for that purpose, -determined to seek a new climate, and mingle in different scenes. - -WILLIAM GODWIN: ‘Memoir of the Author of a Vindication of the Rights of -Woman,’ quoted in ‘Life of Mary Wollstonecraft,’ by E. R. Pennell. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: With Gilbert Imlay.] - -The American community in Paris did not of course share the suspicion, -dislike and danger which were the lot of the English. One of these -Americans, Captain Gilbert Imlay, became acquainted with Mary in -the spring of 1793.... Imlay had entered into various commercial -speculations, of which the centre appears to have been Havre, and his -trade was with Norway and Sweden, presumably in timber, since that -industry had mainly attracted him in America. At the time of which we -speak he was successful in commerce, and he had considerable command -of money. The kindness he showed Mary Wollstonecraft disposed her to -look on him favorably; she soon gave him a very sincere affection, and -consented to become his wife. - -I use this word deliberately, although no legal ceremony ever passed -between them. Her view was that a common affection was marriage, and -that the marriage tie should not bind after the death of love, if love -should die. It is probable, however, that only a series of untoward -circumstances made her act upon her opinions. A legal marriage with -Imlay was certainly difficult, apparently impossible. Her position as -a British subject was full of danger--a marriage would have forced -her openly to declare herself as such. It is a strong confirmation -of the view here taken to find that Madame de Staël, who, if any -one, knew the period of which we are speaking, makes a like fact the -sole obstacle to the marriage of Lord Nelvil and Madame D’Arbigny. -(‘Corinne, ou l’Italie,’ _vol. ii, p. 63_. 8th Edition. Paris: 1818.) -It may be doubted whether the ceremony, if any could have taken place, -would have been valid in England. Passing as Imlay’s wife, without such -preparatory declaration, her safety was assured, and as his wife she -was acknowledged by him. Charles Wollstonecraft wrote from Philadelphia -that he had seen a gentleman who knew his sister in Paris, and that he -was “informed that she is married to Captain Imlay, of this country.” -Long after the period at which we have now arrived, when Imlay’s -affection had ceased, and his desertion of Mary had practically begun, -he entrusted certain important business negotiations to her, and speaks -of her in a legal document as “Mary Imlay, my best friend and wife,” -a document which in many cases and countries would be considered as -constituting a marriage. She believed that his love, which was to her -sacred, would endure. No one can read her letters without seeing that -she considered herself, in the eyes of God and man, Imlay’s wife. -Religious as she was and with a strong moral sense, she yet made the -grand mistake of supposing that it is possible for one woman to undo -the consecrated custom of ages, to set herself in opposition to the -course of society, and not be crushed by it. And she made the no less -fatal mistake of judging Imlay by her own standard, and thinking that -he was as true, as impassioned, as self-denying as herself. - -C. KEGAN PAUL: _Prefatory Memoir_ to ‘Mary Wollstonecraft’s Letters to -Imlay.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Her farewell to Imlay.] - -I never wanted but your heart--that gone, you have nothing more to -give. Had I only poverty to fear, I should not shrink from life. -Forgive me then, if I say, that I shall consider any direct or indirect -attempt to supply my necessities, as an insult which I have not -merited, and as rather done out of tenderness for your own reputation, -than for me. - -My child may have to blush for her mother’s want of prudence, and may -lament that the rectitude of my heart made me above vulgar precautions; -but she shall not despise me for meanness. You are now perfectly free. -God bless you! - -MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT: ‘Letters to Imlay.’ (London: November, 1795.) - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: She meets Godwin.] - -Godwin met her at the moment when she was deeply depressed by the -ingratitude of one utterly incapable of appreciating her excellence; -who had stolen her heart, and availed himself of her excessive and -thoughtless generosity and lofty independence of character, to plunge -her in difficulties and then desert her. Difficulties, worldly -difficulties, indeed, she set at nought, compared with her despair of -good, her confidence betrayed, and when once she could conquer the -misery that clung to her heart, she struggled cheerfully to meet the -poverty that was her inheritance, and to do her duty by her darling -child. - -MARY SHELLEY: quoted in ‘William Godwin, His Friends and -Contemporaries.’ - - * * * * * - -The partiality we conceived for each other was in that mode which I -have always considered as the purest and most refined style of love. -It grew with equal advances in the mind of each. It would have been -impossible for the most minute observer to have said who was before and -who after. One sex did not take the priority which long-established -custom has awarded it, nor the other overstep that delicacy which is so -severely imposed. I am not conscious that either party can assume to -have been the agent or the patient, the toil-spreader or the prey in -the affair. When, in the course of things the disclosure came, there -was nothing in a manner for either party to disclose to the other. It -was friendship melting into love. - -WILLIAM GODWIN: ‘Memoir of the Author of a Vindication of the Rights of -Woman,’ quoted in ‘William Godwin, His Friends and Contemporaries,’ by -C. Kegan Paul. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Mary’s appearance.] - -Like her mind, her beauty would appear to have ripened late. In -July, 1792, Mrs. Bishop says in a letter to Everina that Charles -[their brother] informs her “that Mrs. Wollstonecraft had grown quite -handsome.” [Mary “took the brevet rank of _Mrs._” after the issue of -‘The Rights of Woman,’ “which had made her in some degree a public -character.”] The grudging admission is more than confirmed by her -portrait by Opie, now in the possession of Sir Percy Shelley, which -was painted for Godwin during the brief period of her marriage; long, -therefore, after she had reached mature age, and when all the waves -and storms of her sorrows had gone over her. More than one print was -engraved of that portrait, in which is well preserved its tender, -wistful, childlike, pathetic beauty, with a look of pleading against -the hardness of the world, which I know in one only other face, that of -Beatrice Cenci. But those prints can give no notion of the complexion, -rich, full, healthy, vivid, of the clear brown eyes and masses of -brownish auburn hair. The fault of the face was that one eyelid -slightly drooped. - -C. KEGAN PAUL: _Prefatory Memoir_ to ‘Mary Wollstonecraft’s Letters to -Imlay.’ - - * * * * * - -Mr. Kegan Paul, in the spring of 1884, showed the author of this life a -lock of Mary Wollstonecraft’s hair. It is wonderfully soft in texture, -and in color a rich auburn, turning to gold in the sunlight. - -ELIZABETH ROBINS PENNELL: ‘Life of Mary Wollstonecraft.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Her conscientiousness.] - -I return you the Italian manuscript; but do not hastily imagine that -I am indolent. I would not spare any labor to do my duty; that single -thought would solace me more than any pleasures the senses could enjoy. -I find I could not translate the manuscript well.... I cannot bear -to do anything I cannot do well; and I should lose time in the vain -attempt. - -MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT: _Letter to Mr. Johnson_, in ‘Posthumous Works of -the Author of A Vindication of the Rights of Woman.’ - -London: Printed for J. Johnson, No. 72 St. Paul’s Churchyard; and G. G. -and J. Robinson, Paternoster Row, 1798. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Independent spirit.] - -I long for a little peace and _independence_! Every obligation we -receive from our fellow-creatures is a new shackle, takes from our -native freedom and debases the mind, makes us mere earth-worms. I am -not fond of grovelling! - -MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT: _Letter to Mr. Johnson_, 1788, in ‘Posthumous -Works.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Craving for love.] - -I have dearly paid for one conviction. Love, in some minds, is an -affair of sentiment, arising from the same delicacy of perception (or -taste) as renders them alive to the beauties of nature, poetry, etc., -alive to the charms of those evanescent graces that are, as it were, -impalpable--they must be felt, they cannot be described. Love is a want -of my heart. - -MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT: ‘Letters to Imlay.’ - - * * * * * - -I can not live without loving my fellow-creatures; nor can I love them -without discovering some merit. - -MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT: _Letter to Mr. Johnson_, in ‘Posthumous Works.’ - - * * * * * - -It is ... an affection for the whole human race that makes my pen dart -rapidly along to support what I believe to be the cause of virtue. - -MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT: _Dedication_ of ‘A Vindication of the Rights of -Woman.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Tenderness.] - -I will own to you that, feeling extreme tenderness for my little girl, -I grow sad very often when I am playing with her, that you are not here -to observe with me how her mind unfolds, and her little heart becomes -attached! These appear to me to be true pleasures, and still you suffer -them to escape you. - -MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT: ‘Letters to Imlay.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Inconsistency.] - -She was, I have been told by an intimate friend, very pretty and -feminine in manners and person; much attached to those very observances -she decries in her works; so that if any gentleman did not fly to open -the door as she approached it, or take up the handkerchief she dropped, -she showered on him the full weight of reproach and displeasure; an -inconsistency she would have doubtless despised in a disciple. - -MRS. ELWOOD (quoting a communication from “a well-known living -writer”): ‘Memoirs of the Literary Ladies of England.’ London: Henry -Colburn, 1843. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Irritability] - -Previous to your departure, I requested you not to torment me by -leaving the day of your return undecided. But whatever tenderness you -took away with you seems to have evaporated on the journey.... In -short, your being so late to-night, and the chance of your not coming, -shows so little consideration, that unless you suppose me to be a stick -or a stone, you must have forgot to think, as well as to feel, since -you have been on the wing. - -MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT (GODWIN): _Letter to Wm. Godwin_, in ‘William -Godwin, His Friends and Contemporaries,’ by C. Kegan Paul. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Religious spirit.] - -It gives me the sincerest satisfaction to find that you look for -comfort where only it is to be met with, and that Being in whom you -trust will not desert you. Be not cast down, while we are struggling -with care, life slips away, and, through the assistance of Divine -grace, we are obtaining habits of virtue that will enable us to relish -those joys that we cannot now form any idea of. - -MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT: _Letter to George Blood_, 1785. - - * * * * * - -[After Fanny’s death:] Could I not look for comfort where only ’tis -to be found, I should have been mad before this, but I feel that I am -supported by that Being who alone can heal a wounded spirit. - -MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT: _Letter to her sister_, 1785. In ‘William Godwin, -His Friends and Contemporaries,’ by C. Kegan Paul. - - * * * * * - -Love to man leads to devotion--grand and sublime images strike the -imagination--God is seen in every floating cloud, and comes from -the misty mountain to receive the noblest homage of an intelligent -creature--praise. How solemn is the moment, when all affections and -remembrances fade before the sublime admiration which the wisdom and -goodness of God inspires, when he is worshipped in a _temple not made -with hands_, and the world seems to contain only the mind that formed, -and the mind that contemplates it! These are not the weak responses of -ceremonial devotion. - -MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT: _Essay on Poetry, and our Relish for the Beauties -of Nature_, in ‘Posthumous Works.’ - - * * * * * - -Few can walk alone. The staff of Christianity is the necessary support -of human weakness. An acquaintance with the nature of man and virtue, -with just sentiments on the attributes, would be sufficient, without a -voice from heaven, to lead some to virtue, but not the mob. - -MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT: _Hints_, in ‘Posthumous Works.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Her character sketched by her daughter.] - -Mary Wollstonecraft was one of those beings who appear once perhaps -in a generation, to gild humanity with a ray which no difference -of opinion nor chance of circumstances can cloud. Her genius was -undeniable. She had been bred in the hard school of adversity, and -having experienced the sorrows entailed on the poor and the oppressed, -an earnest desire was kindled within her to diminish these sorrows. -Her sound understanding, her intrepidity, her sensibility, and eager -sympathy, stamped all her writings with force and truth, and endowed -them with a tender charm that enchants while it enlightens. She was -one whom all loved who had ever seen her.... “Open as day to melting -charity,” with a heart brimful of generous affection, yearning for -sympathy, she had fallen on evil days, and her life had been one course -of hardship, poverty, lonely struggle, and bitter disappointment. - -MARY SHELLEY: quoted in ‘William Godwin, His Friends and -Contemporaries,’ by C. Kegan Paul. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Appearance.] - -Of all the lions or _literati_ I have seen here, Mary Imlay’s -countenance is the best, infinitely the best: the only fault in it -is an expression somewhat similar to what the prints of Horne Tooke -display--an expression indicating superiority; not haughtiness, not -sarcasm, in Mary Imlay, but still it is unpleasant. Her eyes are light -brown, and although the lid of one of them is affected by a little -paralysis, they are the most meaning I ever saw.... As for Godwin -himself, he has large, noble eyes, and a _nose_--oh, most abominable -nose! Language is not vituperatious enough to describe the effect of -its downward elongation. - -ROBERT SOUTHEY: _Letter to J. Cottle, March, 1797_, in the former’s -‘Life and Correspondence,’ edited by Rev. C. C. Southey, M. A. London: -Longman, Brown, Green, and Longmans, 1849. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Mary and Godwin.] - -Coleridge asked me if I had ever seen Mary Wollstonecraft, and I said, -I had once for a few moments, and that she seemed to me to turn off -Godwin’s objection to something she advanced with quite a playful, easy -air. He replied that “this was only one instance of the ascendency -which people of imagination exercised over those of mere intellect.”... -He had a great idea of Mrs. Wollstonecraft’s powers of conversation; -none at all of her talents for book-making. - -WILLIAM HAZLITT: _My First Acquaintance with Poets_, in ‘Sketches and -Essays,’ edited by Wm. Carew Hazlitt. London: Bell and Daldy, 1869. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Their married life.] - -And now Mary Wollstonecraft had a season of real calm in her stormy -life. Godwin for once only in his life was stirred by a real passion, -and his admiration for his wife equalled his affection. The very -slight clouds which arose now and then were of a transient character, -and sprang from Mary Wollstonecraft’s excessive sensitiveness and -eager quickness of temper. These were, perhaps, occasionally tried by -Godwin’s confirmed bachelor habits, and also by the fact that he took -_au pied de la lettre_ all that she had said about the independence -of women, when in truth she leant a good deal on the aid of others. -In some respects she was content to acquiesce in his bachelor ways; -they adopted a singular device for their uninterrupted student life. -Godwin’s strong view of the possibility that people may weary of being -always together, led him to take rooms in a house about twenty doors -from that in the Polygon, Somers Town, which was their joint home. To -this study he repaired as soon as he rose in the morning, rarely even -breakfasting at the Polygon, and here also he often slept. Each was -engaged in his and her own literary occupations, and they seldom met, -unless they walked out together, till dinner-time each day. - -C. KEGAN PAUL: _Prefatory Memoir_ to ‘Mary Wollstonecraft’s Letters to -Imlay.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: An ‘Alecto.’] - -Adieu, thou excellent woman! thou reverse of that hyena in petticoats, -Mrs. Wollstonecraft; who to this day discharges her ink and gall on -Maria Antoinette, whose unparalleled sufferings have not yet stanched -that Alecto’s blazing ferocity. - -HORACE WALPOLE: _Letters to Hannah More_, 1795, in the former’s -‘Letters,’ edited by Peter Cunningham. London: Henry G. Bohn, 1861. - - * * * * * - -Thank Providence for the tranquillity and happiness we enjoy in this -country, in spite of the philosophizing serpents we have in our bosom, -the Paines, the Tookes, and the Wollstonecrafts. - -HORACE WALPOLE: _Letter to Hannah More_, 1792, in ‘Memoirs of Hannah -More,’ by W. Roberts. New York: Harper & Bros., 1834. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: An opposite view.] - -I saw her three or four times when she was Mrs. Godwin, and never saw -a woman who would have been better fitted to do honor to her sex, if -she had not fallen on evil times, and into evil hands. But it is hardly -possible for any one to conceive what those times were, who has not -lived in them. - -ROBERT SOUTHEY: ‘Correspondence with Caroline Bowles.’ Dublin: Hodges, -Figgis & Co. London: Longmans, Green & Co., 1881. - - * * * * * - -Southey is said to have had her portrait hanging in his study; and he -wrote of her as one - - “Who among women left no equal mind - When from the world she passed; and I could weep - To think that _she_ is to the grave gone down!” - - -FOOTNOTES: - -[4] While denying herself gowns and wine-glasses Mary was, however, -generously assisting her father, brothers and sisters. - - - - - MARY W. GODWIN (SHELLEY). - - 1797-1851. - - - - - MARY W. GODWIN (SHELLEY). - - -Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin was born on the 30th of August, 1797. “Two -angels, one of Life and one of Death,” together entered the door of -William Godwin. Long after, Shelley wrote: - - “They say that thou wert lovely from thy birth, - Of glorious parents thou aspiring child: - I wonder not--for One then left this earth - Whose life was like a setting planet mild, - Which clothed thee in the radiance undefiled - Of its departing glory.” - -A spirit akin to that of Greek tragedy informs the double story of -mother and daughter. Mary Godwin inherited her fate. The peculiar -reverence in which she must necessarily have held the mother who had -died to give her life, the implicit confidence with which she must -have received that mother’s doctrines, as set forth in her life and -preserved in her books,--this was the strongest determining influence -in the life of the girl, Mary Godwin. When, at the age of seventeen, -she unhesitatingly plighted her faith to a man already bound by the -laws of society to another, there is significance in the fact that -their hands were clasped over her mother’s grave--the spot which a -woman of opposite traditions must have shunned with shame at such a -moment. That sacred place seemed fittest for the strange betrothal of -Mary Godwin, who had no doubt that the mother who there slept would -have smiled upon the lovers. Censure of this step has properly no place -in a sketch of Mary Godwin Shelley; the entire responsibility rests -with Shelley and her parents; her action was simply an inevitable -result. - -From July 28, 1814, till the fatal 8th of the same month in 1822, her -life was one with Shelley’s. Immeasurably greater as he was, we may yet -claim for his wife that she influenced his genius in one respect and -in one instance: it was her persuasion that led him, in ‘The Cenci,’ -closer to realities, and she regarded that work as a promise of the -warmer grasp of human interests on his part that might at last “touch -the chord of sympathy between him and his countrymen.” - -She was formally married to Shelley in 1816, on the death of Harriet -Shelley. Robbed of her husband by death in 1822, Mary returned to -London in the following year for the sake of Percy, her only surviving -child. Her own wishes would have led her to remain in Italy. For some -time she resided with her father, but subsequently removed to Kentish -Town, and then to Harrow, that she might be near her boy at school. - -FRANKENSTEIN had been published in 1818; and Godwin saw in it that -power which induced him to advise her, in this her time of need, to -turn to literature as a resource. She worked hard with her pen to -meet the expenses of her son’s education, and also contributed to the -support of Godwin, now old and failing. She sent her father, at a time -when he was greatly embarrassed, her novel _Valperga_ in MS., begging -him to publish it and use the proceeds as his own. The generosity of -this gift reminds us of her dead mother. This novel was published in -1823; _The Last Man_, in 1824; _Perkin Warbeck_, in 1830; _Lodore_, -in 1835; and _Falkner_, in 1837. Mrs. Shelley also wrote most of the -Italian and Spanish lives in Lardner’s Encyclopedia, and two volumes of -travels entitled _Rambles in Germany and Italy_; and edited (1839-40) -Shelley’s works and his letters, by far her most important service -to literature. Her son became Sir Percy Shelley on the death of his -grandfather in 1844. - -On the 21st of February, 1851, Mary Shelley closed a life that long -had “crept on a broken wing.” We may believe that she rejoiced at the -coming of the hour, when, in Shelley’s own words, “Life should no more -divide what death could join together.” - -She appears to have differed from her mother in possessing a greater -delicacy, more imaginativeness, something less of intellectual boldness -and independence. She had, however, all Mary Wollstonecraft’s tendency -to melancholy: “I fear you are a Wollstonecraft,” the equable Godwin -wrote her. She endeavored, in her happier days, to guard against this -evil by mingling in society, where she was animated and charming. Henry -Crabb Robinson mentions her at Godwin’s in 1823, looking “elegant and -sickly and young”; one calls to mind the description of Shelley, “like -some elegant flower drooping on its stem.” Robinson also relates what -he had heard from Harriet Martineau, that Mrs. Shelley “never had asked -a favor of any one, and never would.” This is a touch of her mother’s -pride, intensified. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Godwin’s account of Mary and her sister.] - -Your enquiries relate principally to the two daughters of Mary -Wollstonecraft. They are neither of them brought up with an exclusive -attention to the system and ideas of their mother. I lost her in 1797, -and in 1801 I married a second time. One among the motives which led -me to choose this was, the feeling I had in myself of an incompetence -for the education of daughters. The present Mrs. Godwin has great -strength and activity of mind, but is not exclusively a follower -of the notions of their mother; and indeed, having formed a family -establishment without having a previous provision for the support of -a family, neither Mrs. Godwin nor I have leisure enough for reducing -novel theories of education to practice, while we both of us honestly -endeavor, as far as our opportunities will permit, to improve the mind -and characters of the younger branches of our family. - -Of the two persons to whom your inquiries relate, my own daughter is -considerably superior in capacity to the one her mother had before. -Fanny, the eldest, is of a quiet, modest, unshowy disposition, somewhat -given to indolence, which is her greatest fault, but sober, observing, -peculiarly clear and distinct in the faculty of memory, and disposed -to exercise her own thoughts and follow her own judgment. Mary, my -daughter, is the reverse of her in many particulars. She is singularly -bold, somewhat imperious, and active of mind. Her desire of knowledge -is great, and her perseverance in every thing she undertakes almost -invincible. My own daughter is, I believe, very pretty; Fanny[5] is by -no means handsome, but in general prepossessing. - -WILLIAM GODWIN: _Letter to an unknown correspondent_, in ‘William -Godwin, His Friends and Contemporaries,’ by C. Kegan Paul, Boston: -Roberts Bros., 1876. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Her stepmother.] - -Mrs. Godwin [formerly Mrs. Clairmont], was a harsh stepmother.... She -had strong views, in which many would agree, that each child should -be educated to some definite duties, with a view of filling some -useful place in life; but this arrangement soon had at least a show -of partiality. It was found that Jane Clairmont’s mission in life, -according to her mother’s view, was to have all the education and even -accomplishments which their slender means would admit; while household -drudgery was from an early age discovered to be the life-work of Fanny -and Mary Godwin. That Mary Shelley was afterward a worthy intellectual -companion to Shelley, is in no degree due to Mrs. Godwin, and little to -her father’s direct teaching. All the education she had up to the time -when she linked her fate with Shelley’s, was self-gained; the merits of -such a work as ‘Frankenstein’ were her own; the faults were those of -her home-training. - -C. KEGAN PAUL: ‘William Godwin, His Friends and Contemporaries.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Mary at sixteen.] - -When we reached Skinner Street, he [Shelley] said, “I must speak with -Godwin; come in, I will not detain you long.” I followed him through -the shops, which was the only entrance, and up stairs. We entered a -room on the first floor; it was shaped like a quadrant. In the arc -were windows; in one radius a fire-place, and in the other a door, -and shelves with many old books. William Godwin was not at home. -Bysshe strode about the room, causing the crazy floor of the ill-built -dwelling-house to shake and tremble under his impatient footsteps.... -I stood reading the names of old English authors on the backs of the -venerable volumes, when the door was partially and softly opened. A -thrilling voice called “Shelley!” A thrilling voice answered “Mary!” -And he darted out of the room, like an arrow from the bow of the -far-shooting king. A very young female, fair and fair-haired, pale -indeed, and with a piercing look, wearing a frock of tartan, an unusual -dress in London at that time, had called him out of the room. He was -absent a very short time--a minute or two; and then returned. “Godwin -is out; there is no use in waiting.” - -THOMAS JEFFERSON HOGG: ‘Life of Shelley,’ 1858; quoted by R. H. -Stoddard. ‘Anecdote Biography of Shelley.’ New York: Scribner, -Armstrong & Co., 1877. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Elopement with Shelly.] - -It was not until the summer of 1814 that Shelley and Mary Godwin -became really acquainted, when he found the child whom he had scarcely -noticed two years before, had grown into the woman of nearly seventeen -summers.... Shelley came to London on May 18th, leaving his wife -at Binfield, certainly without the least idea that it was to be a -final separation from him, though the relations between husband and -wife had for some time been increasingly unhappy. He was received in -Godwin’s house on the old footing of close intimacy, and rapidly fell -in love with Mary. Fanny Godwin was away from home visiting some of -the Wollstonecrafts, or she, three years older than Mary, might have -discouraged the romantic attachment which sprang up between her sister -and their friend. Jane Clairmont’s influence was neither then, nor at -any other time, used judiciously. It was easy for the lovers, for such -they became before they were aware of it, to meet without the attention -of the parents being drawn to the increasing intimacy, and yet without -any such sense of clandestine interviews, as might have disclosed to -themselves whither they were drifting. Mary was unhappy at home; she -thoroughly disliked Mrs. Godwin, to whom Fanny was far more tolerant; -her desire for knowledge and love of reading were discouraged, and when -seen with a book in her hand, she was wont to hear from her stepmother -that her proper sphere was the store-room. Old St. Pancras church-yard -was then a quiet and secluded spot, where Mary Wollstonecraft’s grave -was shaded by a fine weeping-willow. Here Mary Godwin used to take her -books in the warm days of June, to spend every hour she could call -her own. Here her intimacy with Shelley ripened, and here, in Lady -Shelley’s words, “she placed her hand in his, and linked her fortunes -with his own.” - -On July 28th, early in the morning, Mary Godwin left her father’s -house, accompanied by Jane Clairmont. They joined Shelley, posted to -Dover, and crossed in an open boat to Calais during a violent storm.... -The three went to Paris, where they bought a donkey, and rode him in -turns to Geneva, the others walking. Sleeping now in a cabaret and now -in a cottage, they at last finished this strange honeymoon, and the -strangest sentimental journey ever undertaken since Adam and Eve went -forth with all the world before them where to choose. - -C. KEGAN PAUL: ‘William Godwin, His Friends and Contemporaries.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: No moral conflict.] - -The theories in which the daughter of the authors of ‘Political -Justice’ and of the ‘Rights of Woman’ had been educated, spared her -from any conflict between her duty and her affection. For she was the -child of parents whose writings had had for their object to prove -that marriage was one among the many institutions which a new era in -the history of mankind was about to sweep away. By her father, whom -she loved--by the writings of her mother, whom she had been taught to -venerate--these doctrines had been rendered familiar to her mind. It -was, therefore, natural that she should listen to the dictates of her -own heart, and willingly unite her fate with one who was so worthy of -her love. - -LADY SHELLEY: ‘Shelley Memorials, from Authentic Sources.’ London: -Henry S. King & Co., 1875. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Mary at this period.] - -It is remarkable that her youth was not the period of her greatest -beauty, and certainly at that date [1816-17] she did not do justice to -herself either in her aspect or in the tone of her conversation. She -was singularly pale. With a figure that needed to be set off, she was -careless in her dress; and the decision of purpose which ultimately -gained her the title of ‘Wilful Woman,’ then appeared, at least in -society, principally in the negative form--her temper being easily -crossed, and her resentments taking a somewhat querulous and peevish -tone. - -THORNTON HUNT: ‘Shelley,’ in the _Atlantic Monthly_, February, 1863. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Origin of ‘Frankenstein.’] - -I passed the summer of 1816 in the environs of Geneva. The season was -cold and rainy, and in the evenings we crowded around a blazing wood -fire, and occasionally amused ourselves with some German stories of -ghosts, which happened to fall into our hands. These tales excited in -us a playful desire of imitation. Two other friends and myself agreed -to write each a story, founded on some supernatural occurrence. The -weather, however, suddenly became serene; and my two friends left me -on a journey among the Alps, and lost, in the magnificent scenes which -they present, all memory of their ghostly visions. [Frankenstein] is -the only one which has been completed. - -MARY SHELLEY: _First Preface_ to ‘Frankenstein.’ Boston: Sever, Francis -& Co., 1869. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Its conception.] - -I busied myself _to think of a story_--a story to rival those which had -excited us to this task.... I thought and pondered--vainly. I felt -that blank incapability of invention which is the greatest misery of -authorship, when dull nothing replies to our anxious invocations. _Have -you thought of a story?_ I was asked each morning, and each morning I -was forced to reply with a mortifying negative. - -Many and long were the conversations between Lord Byron and Shelley, to -which I was a devout but nearly silent listener. During one of these, -various philosophical doctrines were discussed, and among others, the -nature of the principle of life, and whether there was any probability -of its ever being discovered and communicated.... Night waned upon -this talk, and even the witching hour had gone by, before we retired -to rest. When I had placed my head on my pillow, I did not sleep, nor -could I be said to think. My imagination, unbidden, possessed and -guided me, gifting the successive images that arose in my mind with -a vividness far beyond the usual bound of reverie. I saw--with shut -eyes, but acute mental vision--I saw the pale student of unhallowed -arts kneeling beside the thing he had put together.... I opened my -eyes in terror. The idea so possessed my mind, that a thrill of fear -ran through me and I wished to exchange the ghastly image of my fancy -for the realities around. I see them still; the very room, the dark -_parquet_, the closed shutters, with the moonlight struggling through, -and the sense I had that the glassy lake and the high white Alps were -beyond. I could not so easily get rid of my hideous phantom; still it -haunted me. I must try to think of something else. I recurred to my -ghost story--my tiresome, unlucky ghost story. Swift as light, and as -cheering, was the idea that broke in upon me. “I have found it!” - -... On the morrow I announced that I had _thought of a story_. I began -that day with the words, “_It was on a dreary night in November_,” -making only a transcript of the grim terrors of my waking dream. - -MARY SHELLEY: _Second Preface_ to ‘Frankenstein.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Mary in 1822.] - -The most striking feature in her face was her calm, gray eyes; she was -rather under the English standard of woman’s height, very fair and -light-haired, witty, social, and animated in the society of friends, -though mournful in solitude; like Shelley, though in a minor degree, -she had the power of expressing her thoughts in varied and appropriate -words, derived from familiarity with the works of our vigorous old -writers. - -E. J. TRELAWNY: ‘Recollections of the Last Days of Shelley and Byron.’ -Boston: Ticknor & Fields, 1858. - - * * * * * - -It is clear that the society of Shelley was to her a great school, -which she did not appreciate to the full until most calamitously it was -taken away; and yet, of course, she could not fail to learn the greater -part of what it had become to her. This again showed itself even in her -appearance, after she had spent some years in Italy; for, while she had -grown far more comely than she was in her mere youth, she had acquired -a deeper insight into many subjects that interested Shelley, and some -others; and she had learned to express the force of natural affection, -which she was born to feel, but which had somehow been stunted and -suppressed in her youth. - -[Sidenote: Her peculiar powers.] - -She was a woman of extraordinary power, of heart as well as head. Many -circumstances conspired to conceal some of her natural faculties.... -Her father--speaking with great diffidence, from a very slight and -imperfect knowledge--appeared to me a harsh and ungenial man. She -inherited from him her thin voice,[6] but not the steel-edged sharpness -of his own; and she inherited, not from him, but from her mother, a -largeness of heart that entered proportionately into the working of her -mind. She had a masculine capacity for study; for, though I suspect her -early schooling was irregular, she remained a student all her life, and -by painstaking industry made herself acquainted with any subject that -she had to handle. - -THORNTON HUNT: ‘Shelley.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Constant reading.] - -In looking over the journal in which, from day to day, Mrs. Shelley was -in the habit of noting their occupations, as well as passing events, -one is struck with wonder at the number of books which they read in the -course of the year. At home or traveling--before breakfast, or waiting -for the mid-day meal--by the side of a stream, or on the ascent of a -mountain--a book was never absent from the hands of one or the other: -and there were never two books; one read while the other listened. - -LADY SHELLEY: ‘Shelley Memorials.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Loss of William Shelley.] - -We suffered a severe affliction in Rome [in 1819] by the loss of our -eldest child, who was of such beauty and promise as to cause him -deservedly to be the idol of our hearts. We left the capital of the -world, anxious for a time to escape a spot associated too intimately -with his presence and loss. - -[Sidenote: Italian life of the Shelleys.] - -Some friends of ours were residing in the neighborhood of Leghorn, and -we took a small house, Villa Valsovano, about half-way between the town -and Monte Nero, where we remained during the summer. Our villa was -situated in the midst of a podere; the peasants sang as they worked -beneath our windows, during the heats of a very hot season, and in the -evening the water-wheel creaked as the process of irrigation went on, -and the fire-flies flashed from among the myrtle hedges:--nature was -bright, sunshiny and cheerful, or diversified by storms of a majestic -terror, such as we had never before witnessed. At the top of the house -there was a sort of terrace ... very small, yet not only roofed but -glazed; this Shelley made his study; it looked out on a wide prospect -of fertile country, and commanded a view of the near sea.... In the -spring [of 1820, having passed the winter in Florence and Pisa] we -spent a week or two near Leghorn, borrowing the house of some friends, -who were absent on a journey to England. It was on a beautiful summer -evening while wandering among the lanes, whose myrtle hedges were the -bowers of the fire-flies, that we heard the carolling of the skylark, -which inspired one of the most beautiful of his poems. - -[Sidenote: Shelley’s last home near Sant’ Arenzo, 1823.] - -The bay of Spezia is of considerable extent, and divided by a rocky -promontory into a larger and smaller one. The town of Lerici is -situated on the eastern point, and in the depth of the smaller bay, -which bears the name of this town, is the village of Sant’ Arenzo. Our -house, Casa Magni, was close to this village; the sea came up to the -door, a steep hill sheltered it behind. The proprietor ... had rooted -up the olives on the hillside, and planted forest trees; ... some fine -walnut and ilex trees intermingled their dark massy foliage, and formed -groups which still haunt my memory, as then they satiated the eye with -a sense of loveliness. The scene was indeed of unimaginable beauty; -the blue extent of waters, the almost land-locked bay, the near castle -of Lerici, shutting it in to the east, and distant Porto Venere to -the west; the varied forms of the precipitous rocks that bound in the -beach, over which there was only a winding rugged foot-path towards -Lerici, and none on the other side; the tideless sea leaving no sands -nor shingle--formed a picture such as one sees in Salvator Rosa’s -landscapes only: sometimes the sunshine vanished when the sirocco -raged--the ponente, the wind was called on that shore. The gales and -squalls, that hailed our first arrival, surrounded the bay with foam; -the howling wind swept round our exposed house, and the sea roared -unremittingly, so that we almost fancied ourselves on board ship. At -other times sunshine and calm invested sea and sky, and the rich tints -of Italian heaven bathed the scene. The natives were wilder than the -place.... If ever fate whispered of coming disaster, such inaudible, -but not unfelt, prognostics hovered around us. The beauty of the place -seemed unearthly in its excess: the distance we were at from all signs -of civilization, the sea at our feet, its murmurs or its roarings -forever in our ears--all these things led the mind to brood over -strange thoughts, and, lifting it from every-day life, caused it to be -familiar with the unreal. A sort of spell surrounded us, and each day, -as the voyagers did not return, we grew restless and disquieted; and -yet, strange to say, we were not fearful of the most apparent danger. - -The spell snapped, it was all over; an interval of agonizing doubt was -changed to the certainty of the death that eclipsed all happiness for -the survivors forevermore. - -MARY SHELLEY: _Notes_, in ‘Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley.’ -Boston: Little, Brown, & Co., 1857. - - * * * * * - -She impressed me as a person with warm social feelings, dependent for -happiness on loving encouragement, needing a guiding and sustaining -hand. - -[Sidenote: Mrs. Shelley in her widowhood.] - -In person she was of middle height and graceful figure. Her face, -though not regularly beautiful, was comely and spiritual, of winning -expression, and with a look of inborn refinement; as well as culture. -It had a touch of sadness when at rest. - -ROBERT DALE OWEN: _Quoted in_ ‘Heroines of Free Thought,’ S. A. -Underhill. New York: Charles P. Somerby, 139 Eighth Street, 1876. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Development of character.] - -I have heard her accused of an over-anxiety to be admired; and -something of the sort was discernible in society: it was a weakness -as venial as it was purely superficial. Away from society she was as -truthful and simple a woman as I have ever met--was as faithful a -friend as the world has produced--using that unreserved directness -toward those whom she regarded with affection, which is the very -crowning glory of friendly intercourse. I suspect that these qualities -came out in their greatest force after her calamity; for many things -which she said in her regret, and passages in Shelley’s own poetry, -make me doubt whether little habits of temper, and possibly of a -refined and exacting coquettishness, had not prevented him from -acquiring so full a knowledge of her as she had of him. - -THORNTON HUNT: ‘Shelley.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Appearance.] - -Her well-shaped, golden-haired head, almost always a little bent and -drooping; her marble-white shoulders and arms statuesquely visible -in the perfectly plain black velvet dress, which the customs of that -time allowed to be cut low, and which her own taste adopted (for she -never wore the conventional “widow’s weeds” and “widow’s cap”); her -thoughtful, earnest eyes; her short upper lip and intellectually curved -mouth, with a certain close-compressed and decisive expression while -she listened, and a relaxation into fuller redness and mobility while -speaking; her exquisitely formed, white, dimpled, small hands, with -rosy palms, and plumply commencing fingers, that tapered into tips -as slender and delicate as those in a Vandyck portrait--all remain -palpably present to memory. Another peculiarity in Mrs. Shelley’s hand -was its singular flexibility, which permitted her bending the fingers -back so as almost to approach the portion of her arm above her wrist. -She once did this smilingly and repeatedly, to amuse the girl who was -noting its whiteness and pliancy, and who now, as an old woman, records -its remarkable beauty. - -Very sweet and very encouraging was Mary Shelley to her young namesake, -Mary Victoria, making her proud and happy by giving her a presentation -copy of her wonderful book, ‘Frankenstein,’ and pleasing her girlish -fancy by the gift of a string of cut-coral graduated beads from -Italy.... - -Her mode of uttering the word “Lerici,” dwells upon our memory with -peculiarly subdued and lingering intonation, associated as it was with -all that was most mournful in connection with that picturesque spot -where she learned she had lost her “beloved Shelley” forever from this -fair earth. - -[Sidenote: Love of Music.] - -She was never tired of asking Francesco [Mr. Francis Novello] to sing -Mozart’s “Qui Sdegno,” “Possenti Numi,” “Mentre ti Lascio,” “Tuba -Mirum,” “La Vendetta,” “Non piu Andrai,” or “Madamina;” so fond was she -of his singing her favorite composer. - -MARY (VICTORIA NOVELLO) COWDEN CLARKE: ‘Recollections of Writers.’ New -York: Charles Scribner’s Sons. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: A portrait.] - -If the reader desires a portrait of Mary, he has one in the well-known -antique bust sometimes called “Isis,” and sometimes “Clytie”; a woman’s -head and shoulders rising from a lotus-flower. It is most probably -the portrait of a Roman lady: is in some degree more elongated and -“classic,” than Mary; but, on the other hand, it falls short of her, -for it gives no idea of her tall and intellectual forehead, nor has it -any trace of the bright, animated, and sweet expression that so often -lighted up her face. - -THORNTON HUNT: ‘Shelley.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: A criticism.] - -How changed is the taste of verse, prose, and painting, since _le bon -vieux temps_, dear madam! Nothing attracts us but what terrifies, and -is within--_if_ within--a hair’s breadth of positive disgust. Some of -the strange things they write remind me of Squoire Richard’s visit -to the Tower Menagerie, when he says: “Odd, they are _pure_ grim -devils,”--particularly a wild and hideous tale called ‘Frankenstein.’ - -MRS. PIOZZI: _Letters to Mme. D’Arblay_, in the latter’s ‘Diary and -Letters’; edited by Sarah Chauncey Woolsey. Boston: Roberts Bros., 1880. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Scott’s remarks.] - -The feeling with which we perused the unexpected and fearful, yet, -allowing the possibility of the event, very natural conclusion of -Frankenstein’s experiment, shook a little even our firm nerves.... It -is no slight merit in our eyes that the tale, though wild in incident, -is written in plain and forcible English, without exhibiting that -mixture of hyperbolical Germanisms with which tales of wonder are -usually told. The ideas of the author are always clearly as well as -forcibly expressed; and his[7] descriptions of landscape have in them -the choice requisites of truth, freshness, precision, and beauty. The -self-education of the monster, considering the slender opportunities -of acquiring knowledge that he possessed, we have already noticed as -improbable and over-strained. - -SIR WALTER SCOTT: ‘Remarks on Frankenstein,’ _Blackwood’s Edinburgh -Magazine_, March, 1818. (‘Scott’s Miscellanies,’ _vol. i._ -Philadelphia: Carey & Hart, 1841.) - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Lamb’s praise.] - -Mrs. Shelley’s ‘Frankenstein’ ... he [Charles Lamb] thought the most -extraordinary realization of the idea of a being out of nature which -had ever been effected. - -THOMAS NOON TALFOURD: ‘The Works of Charles Lamb, His Letters, and a -Sketch of his Life.’ New York: Harper & Bros., 1838. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Intellectual resemblance to Shelley.] - -We have spoken of Mrs. Shelley’s similarity in genius to her -husband’s--we by no means think her his equal. She has not his -subtlety, swiftness, wealth of imagination, and is never caught up -(like Ezekiel by his lock of hair) into the same rushing whirlwind -of inspiration. She has much, however, of his imaginative and of his -speculative qualities--her tendency, like his, is to the romantic, the -ethereal, and the terrible. The tie detaining her, as well as him to -the earth, is slender--her protest against society is his, copied out -in a female hand--her style is carefully and successfully modeled upon -his--she bears in brief, to him, the resemblance which Laone did to -Laon, which Astarte did to Manfred.... Perhaps, indeed, intercourse -with a being so peculiar ... has somewhat affected the originality, -and narrowed the extent of her own genius. - -Mrs. Shelley’s genius, though true and powerful, is monotonous and -circumscribed--more so than even her father’s--and, in this point, -presents a strong contrast to her husband’s. She has no wit, nor -humor--little dramatic talent. Strong, clear description of the -gloomier scenes of nature, or the darker passions of the mind, or of -those supernatural objects which her fancy, except in her first work, -somewhat laboriously creates, is her forte. Hence her reputation still -rests upon ‘Frankenstein’; ... she unquestionably made him, but he has -had no progeny. - -... She has succeeded in her delineation; she has painted this -shapeless being upon the imagination of the world forever; and beside -Caliban, and Hecate, and Death and Life, and all other weird and gloomy -creations, this nameless, unfortunate, involuntary, gigantic unit -stands. - -... The work is wonderful as the work of a girl of eighteen. One -distinct addition to our original creations must be conceded her--and -it is no little praise. - -GEORGE GILFILLAN: ‘A Second Gallery of Literary Portraits.’ Edinburgh: -James Hogg. London: R. Groombridge & Sons, 1850. - - -FOOTNOTES: - -[5] Fanny Godwin, as she was always called, at the age of twenty-two -committed suicide by taking laudanum, doubtless impelled by the -singular melancholy inherited from her mother. - -[6] See Shelley’s ‘Epipsychidon.’ - -[7] Shelley was at first supposed to be the author of ‘Frankenstein.’ - - - - - MARY LAMB. - - (1764-1847.) - - - - - MARY LAMB. - - -Seldom is the name of Mary Lamb seen without that of her brother. “The -Lambs” still walk hand-in-hand in our mention, as they were wont to -walk on pleasant holidays to Enfield, and Potter’s Bar, and Waltham; -when Mary “used to deposit in the little hand-basket the day’s fare of -savory cold meat and salad,” and Charles “to pry about at noon-tide -for some decent house where they might go in and produce their store, -only paying for the ale that he must call for.” Still they pass linked -together through our thoughts, as on that sadder day when Charles Lloyd -met them, crossing the fields to Hoxton--hand-in-hand, and weeping. - -It is an act of severance against which the conscience somewhat -protests, to present Mary alone to the consideration of the reader. It -is like removing her from the protection of his presence who stood so -faithfully and long between her and the world. - -Mary Lamb was born in Crown Office Row, Inner Temple, December 3d, -1764. She was the daughter of John Lamb, the “clerk, good servant, -dresser, friend, flapper, guide, stop-watch, auditor, treasurer,” as -his son describes him, of a barrister named Salt. Charles was eleven -years Mary’s junior. In 1795, (the elder Lamb, whose faculties were -failing, having been pensioned by Mr. Salt,) the family left the -Temple for lodgings in Little Queen Street. Here occurred, on the 21st -of September in that year, the tragedy which set its stamp upon the -after-life of Mary and Charles, and of which there is a sufficient -account among the following extracts. - -Mary remained in the asylum at Islington until the spring of 1797, -when Charles, having satisfied the authorities by a solemn engagement -to care for her during life, took a room for her at Hackney, where he -spent his Sundays and holidays. In April, 1799, old John Lamb died, and -from that time until death separated them Mary shared her brother’s -home--or homes, for indeed they were legion. Procter chronicles the -Lambs as lodging, in 1800, in Southampton Buildings, Chancery Lane; -and removing during the same year to Mitre Court Buildings, Temple, -where they remained till 1809. No. 4, Inner Temple Lane was their -next residence, which they left, in 1817, for Russell Street, Covent -Garden. In 1823 they removed to Colebrook Row, Islington; and in 1826 -to Enfield. In 1830 they returned to Southampton Buildings. In 1833, -Charles, having determined that his sister should remain with him -during her illness for the future, they went to live at Mrs. Walden’s, -in Church Street, Edmonton; where, on December 27th, 1834, Charles Lamb -died. - -Mary survived her brother more than twelve years. Age, and the decay of -her mind, mitigated her grief for him. On the 28th of May, 1847, she -was laid in his grave. - -The works of Mary Lamb are as follows: - -_Tales from Shakespeare_, published in 1807; in this work, the six -great tragedies are by Charles. - -_Mrs. Leicester’s School_, published in 1808, to which Charles -contributed three of the ten stories. - -_Poetry for Children_, 1809; here Charles was again her co-laborer, -performing one-third of the work, but it is not positively certain -which of the poems are his. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Mary’s Birthplace.] - -On the south side of Fleet Street, near to where it adjoins Temple Bar, -lies the Inner Temple. It extends southward to the Thames, and contains -long ranges of melancholy buildings, in which lawyers and their -followers congregate. It is a district very memorable. About seven -hundred years ago it was the abiding-place of the Knights Templars, who -erected there a church, which still uplifts its round tower (its sole -relic) for the wonder of modern times. Fifty years since, I remember, -you entered the precinct through a lowering archway that opened into a -gloomy passage--Inner Temple Lane. On the east side rose the church; -and on the west was a dark line of chambers, since pulled down and -rebuilt, and now called Johnson’s Buildings. At some distance westward -was an open court, in which was a sun-dial, and, in the midst, a -solitary fountain, that sent its silvery voice into the air above, the -murmur of which, descending, seemed to render the place more lonely. -Midway, between the Inner Temple Lane and the Thames, was a range of -substantial chambers (overlooking the gardens and the busy river), -called Crown Office Row. - -BRYAN W. PROCTER: ‘Charles Lamb, a Memoir.’ London: Edward Moxon & Co., -1866. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Education.] - -Her education in youth was not much attended to; and she happily -missed all that train of female garniture, which passeth by the name -of accomplishments. She was tumbled early, by accident or design, into -a spacious closet of good old English reading [the library of Mr. -Salt, a barrister, to whom her father long acted as clerk] without -much selection or prohibition, and browsed at will upon that fair and -wholesome pasturage. Had I twenty girls, they should be brought up -exactly in this fashion. I know not whether their chance in wedlock -might not be diminished by it, but I can answer for it, that it makes -(if the worst comes to the worst) most incomparable old maids. - -CHARLES LAMB: _Mackery End, in Hertfordshire_, ‘Essays of Elia.’ -(‘Works, with a Sketch of his Life,’ by Thomas Noon Talfourd. New York: -Harper & Brothers, 1838.) - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Effect of this reading.] - -A little selection would have made the pasturage all the wholesomer to -a child of Mary’s sensitive, brooding nature; for the witch stories and -the cruel tales of the sufferings of the martyrs on which she pored -all alone, as her brother did after her, wrought upon her tender brain -and lent their baleful aid to nourish those seeds of madness which she -inherited. - -[Sidenote: Country pleasures.] - -The London-born and bred child had occasional tastes of joyous, -healthful life in the country, for her mother had hospitable relatives -in her native county, pleasant Hertfordshire. In after life she -embodied them, mingling fiction with fact, in a story called ‘Louisa -Manners; or, the Farmhouse,’ where she tells in sweet and child-like -words of the ecstasy of a little four-year-old girl on finding -herself for the first time in the midst of fields quite full of -bright, shining yellow flowers, with sheep and young lambs feeding; -of the inexhaustible interest of the farm-yard, the thresher in the -barn with his terrifying flail and black beard, the collection of -eggs and searching for scarce violets (“if we could find eggs and -violets too, what happy children we were”); of the hay-making and the -sheep-shearing, the great wood-fires and the farm-house suppers. - -[Sidenote: Lack of sympathy in her home.] - -With the cruelty of ignorance Mary’s mother and grandmother [Mrs. -Field], suffered her young spirit to do battle, in silent and inward -solitariness, with the phantoms imagination conjured up in her too -sensitive brain. “Polly, what are those poor, crazy, moythered brains -of yours thinking always?” was worthy Mrs. Field’s way of endeavoring -to win the confidence of the thoughtful, suffering child. It was simple -stupidity, lack of insight or sympathy in the elders; and was repaid -by the sweetest affection, and, in after-years, by a self-sacrificing -devotion which, carried at last far beyond her strength, led to the -great calamity of her life. - -[Sidenote: Charles.] - -On the 10th of February, 1775, arrived a new member into the household -group--Charles, the child of his father’s old age, the “weakly but very -pretty babe” who was to prove their strong support. And now Mary was -no longer a lonely girl. She was just old enough to be trusted to nurse -and tend the baby, and she became a mother to it. In after-life she -spoke of the comfort, the wholesome curative influence upon her young -troubled mind, which this devotion to Charles in infancy brought with -it. As his young mind unfolded, he found in her intelligence and love -the same genial, fostering influences that had cherished his feeble -frame into health and strength. It was with his little hand in hers -that he first trod the Temple Gardens, and spelled out the inscriptions -on the sun-dials and on the tombstones in the burying-ground, and -wondered, finding only lists of the virtues, “where the naughty people -were buried?” Like Mary, his disposition was so different from that of -his gay, pleasure-loving parents that they but ill understood “and gave -themselves little trouble about him,” which also tended to draw brother -and sister closer together. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Mary’s young womanhood.] - -In the Lamb household the domestic outlook grew dark as soon as Mary -was grown up, for her father’s faculties and her mother’s health failed -early; and when, in his fifteenth year, Charles left Christ’s Hospital, -it was already needful for him to take up the burthens of a man on his -young shoulders; and for Mary not only to make head against sickness, -helplessness, old age, with its attendant exigencies, but to add to the -now straitened means by taking in millinery work. For eleven years, -as she has told us [in an essay on needle-work, contributed to the -_British Lady’s Magazine_, April, 1815], she maintained herself by the -needle; from the age of twenty-one to thirty-two, that is. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: The great tragedy.] - -The year 1795 witnessed changes for all. The father, now wholly in his -dotage, was pensioned off by Mr. Salt, and the family had to exchange -their old home in the Temple for straitened lodgings in Little Queen -Street, Holborn (the site of which and of the adjoining houses is now -occupied by Trinity Church). Meanwhile, Lamb was first tasting the -joys and sorrows of love. Alice W---- lingers but as a shadow in the -records of his life; the passion, however, was real enough and took -deep hold of him, conspiring with the cares and trials of home-life to -give a fatal stimulus to the germs of brain-disease, which were part -of the family heritage, and for six weeks he was in a mad-house.... No -sooner was Charles restored to himself than the elder brother, John, -met with a serious accident; and though while in health he had carried -himself to more comfortable quarters, he did not now fail to return -and be nursed with anxious solicitude by his brother and sister. This -was the last ounce. Mary, worn out with years of nightly as well as -daily attendance upon her mother, who was now wholly deprived of the -use of her limbs, and harassed by a close application to needle-work, -to help her in which she had been obliged to take a young apprentice, -was at last strained beyond the utmost pitch of physical endurance, -“worn down to a state of extreme nervous misery.” About the middle of -September, she being then thirty-two years old, her family observed -some symptoms of insanity in her.... On the afternoon of the 21st, -seized with a sudden attack of frenzy, she snatched a knife from the -table and pursued the young apprentice round the room, when her mother, -interposing, received a fatal stab and died instantly. Mary was totally -unconscious of what she had done. - -ANNE GILCHRIST: ‘Mary Lamb.’ (Famous Women Series.) Boston: Roberts -Bros., 1883. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Mary on her recovery.] - -My poor, dear, dearest sister, the unhappy and unconscious instrument -of the Almighty’s judgment on our house, is restored to her senses; -to a dreadful sense and recollection of what has passed, awful to her -mind, and impressive (as it must be to the end of life), but tempered -with religious resignation and the reasonings of a sound judgment, -which in this early stage knows how to distinguish between a deed -committed in a transient fit of frenzy and the terrible guilt of a -mother’s murder. I have seen her. I found her this morning, calm and -serene; far, very far, from an indecent, forgetful serenity. - -CHARLES LAMB: _Letter to Coleridge_, 1796, in ‘Final Memorials of -Charles Lamb,’ by Thomas Noon Talfourd. London: Edward Moxon, 1848. - - * * * * * - -Little could any one, observing Miss Lamb in the habitual serenity -of her demeanor, guess the calamity in which she had partaken or -the malady which frightfully checkered her life. From Mr. Lloyd ... -I learned that she had described herself, on her recovery from the -fatal attack, as having experienced, while it was subsiding, such -a conviction that she was absolved in Heaven from all taint of the -deed in which she had been the agent--such an assurance that it was -a dispensation of Providence--such a sense that her mother knew her -entire innocence and shed down blessings upon her, as though she had -seen the reconcilement in solemn vision--that she was not sorely -afflicted by the recollection. It was as if the old Greek notion of the -necessity for the unconscious shedder of blood, else polluted though -guiltless, to pass through a religious purification, had in her case -been happily accomplished. - -THOMAS NOON TALFOURD: ‘Final Memorials of Charles Lamb.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Relapses.] - -Her relapses were not dependent on the seasons; they came in hot -summers and with the freezing winters. The only remedy seems to have -been extreme quiet when any slight symptom of uneasiness was apparent. -Charles (poor fellow) had to live, day and night, in the society of a -person who was--mad! If any exciting talk occurred, he had to dismiss -his friend with a whisper. If any stupor or extraordinary silence was -observed, then he had to rouse her instantly. - -BRYAN W. PROCTER: ‘Charles Lamb; a Memoir.’ - - * * * * * - -The constant impendency of this giant sorrow saddened to the Lambs even -their holidays; as the journey which they both regarded as the relief -and charm of the year was frequently followed by a seizure. - -... Miss Lamb experienced, and full well understood, premonitory -symptoms of the attack, in restlessness, low fever, and the inability -to sleep; and, as gently as possible, prepared her brother for the -duty he must soon perform; and thus, unless he could stave off the -terrible separation till Sunday, obliged him to ask leave of absence -from the office as if for a day’s pleasure--a bitter mockery! On one -occasion Mr. Charles Lloyd met them, slowly pacing together a little -footpath in Hoxton Fields, both weeping bitterly, and found, on joining -them, that they were taking their solemn way to the accustomed asylum. - -Miss Lamb would have been remarkable for the sweetness of her -disposition, the clearness of her understanding, and the gentle wisdom -of all her acts and words, even if these qualities had not been -presented in marvellous contrast with the distractions under which -she suffered for weeks, latterly for months in every year. There was -no tinge of insanity discernible in her manner to the most observant -eye.... Hazlitt used to say that he never met with a woman who could -reason and had met with only one thoroughly reasonable--the sole -exception being Mary Lamb. She did not wish, however, to be made an -exception, to the general disparagement of her sex; for in all her -thoughts and feelings she was most womanly--keeping under, ever in due -subordination to her notion of a woman’s province, an intellect of -rare excellence which flashed out when the restraints of gentle habit -and humble manner were withdrawn by the terrible force of disease. -Though her conversation in sanity was never marked by smartness or -repartee, seldom rising beyond that of a sensible, quiet gentlewoman, -appreciating and enjoying the talents of her friends, it was otherwise -in her madness. Her ramblings often sparkled with brilliant description -and shattered beauty. She would fancy herself in the days of Queen -Anne or George the First; and describe the brocaded dames and courtly -manners as though she had been bred among them, in the best style of -the old comedy. It was all broken and disjointed, so that the hearer -could remember little of her discourse; but the fragments were like -the jewelled speeches of Congreve, only shaken from their settings. -There was sometimes even a vein of crazy logic running through them, -associating things essentially most dissimilar, but connecting them by -a verbal association in strange order. As a mere physical instance of -deranged intellect, her condition was, I believe, extraordinary; it was -as if the finest elements of the mind had been shaken into fantastic -combinations, like those of a kaleidoscope. - -THOMAS NOON TALFOURD: ‘Final Memorials of Charles Lamb.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Home of the Lambs.] - -It was always in a room of moderate size, comfortably but plainly -furnished, that he [Charles] lived. An old mahogany table was opened -out in the middle of the room, round which, and near the walls, -were old, high-backed chairs (such as our grandfathers used), and a -long, plain book-case completely filled with old books. These were -his “ragged veterans.” In one of his letters he says: “My rooms are -luxurious: one for prints, one for books; a summer and winter parlor.” -They, however, were not otherwise decorated. I do not remember ever to -have seen a flower or an image in them. He had not been educated into -expensive tastes. His extravagances were confined to books. These were -all chosen by himself, all old, and all in “admired disorder”; yet he -could lay his hand on any volume in a moment.... Here Charles Lamb -sat, when at home, always near the table. At the opposite side was his -sister, engaged in some domestic work, knitting or sewing, or poring -over a modern novel. She wore a neat cap, of the fashion of her youth; -an old-fashioned dress. Her face was pale and somewhat square, but very -placid, with gray, intelligent eyes. She was very mild in her manner to -strangers, and to her brother gentle and tender, always. She had often -an upward look of peculiar meaning, when directed toward him, as though -to give him assurance that all was then well with her. His affection -for her was somewhat less on the surface, but always present. There -was great gratitude intermingled with it. “In the days of weakling -infancy,” he writes: “I was her tender charge, as I have been her care -in foolish manhood since.” Then he adds, pathetically, “I wish I could -throw into a heap the remainder of our joint existences, that we might -share them in equal division.” - -BRYAN W. PROCTER: ‘Charles Lamb; a Memoir.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Mary’s manner.] - -Her manner was easy, almost homely, so quiet, unaffected, and perfectly -unpretending was it. Beneath the sparing talk and retired carriage, -few casual observers would have suspected the ample information and -large intelligence that lay comprised there. She was oftener a listener -than a speaker. In the modest-behaviored woman simply sitting there, -taking small share in general conversation, few who did not know her -would have imagined the accomplished classical scholar, the excellent -understanding, the altogether rarely-gifted being, morally and -mentally, that Mary Lamb was. - -CHARLES AND MARY COWDEN CLARKE: ‘Recollections of Writers.’ New York: -Charles Scribner’s Sons. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Appearance.] - -His sister, whose literary reputation is closely associated with her -brother’s, and who, as the original of “Bridget Elia,” is a kind of -object for literary affection, came in after him. She is a small, bent -figure, evidently a victim to illness, and hears with difficulty. Her -face has been, I should think, a fine and handsome one, and her bright, -gray eye is still full of intelligence and fire. - -N. P. WILLIS: ‘Pencillings by the Way.’ New York: Charles Scribner, -1853. - - * * * * * - -In stature Mary was under the middle-size, and her bodily frame was -strong. She could walk fifteen miles with ease; her brother speaks of -their having walked thirty miles together, and, even at sixty years of -age, she was capable of twelve miles “most days.” - -ANNE GILCHRIST: ‘Mary Lamb.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Habits.] - -Miss Lamb bore a strong personal resemblance to her brother; being -in stature under middle height, possessing well-cut features and a -countenance of singular sweetness, with intelligence. Her brown eyes -were soft, yet penetrating; her nose and mouth very shapely; while the -general expression was mildness itself. Her apparel was always of -the plainest kind, a black stuff or silk gown, made and worn in the -simplest fashion. She took snuff liberally--a habit that had evidently -grown out of her propensity to sympathize with and share all her -brother’s tastes, and it certainly had the effect of enhancing her -likeness to him. She had a small, white, and delicately-formed hand, -and as it hovered above the tortoise-shell box containing the powder -so strongly approved by them both, in search of the stimulating pinch, -the act seemed yet another link of association between the brother and -sister, when hanging together over their favorite books and studies. - -CHARLES AND MARY COWDEN CLARKE: ‘Recollections of Writers.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Lamb’s sketch of his sister.] - -Bridget Elia has been my housekeeper for many a long year. I have -obligations to Bridget extending beyond the period of memory. We -house together, old bachelor and old maid, in a sort of double -singleness.... We agree pretty well in our tastes and habits--yet so, -as “with a difference.” We are generally in harmony, with occasional -bickerings, as it should be among near relations. Our sympathies are -rather understood than expressed, and once, upon my dissembling a tone -in my voice more kind than ordinary, my cousin burst into tears, and -complained that I was altered. We are both great readers in different -directions. While I am hanging over (for the thousandth time) some -passage in old Burton, or one of his strange contemporaries, she is -abstracted in some modern tale or adventure, whereof our common -reading-table is daily fed with assiduously fresh supplies. Narrative -teases me. I have little concern in the progress of events. She must -have a story--well, ill, or indifferently told--so there be life -stirring in it, and plenty of good or evil accidents. The fluctuations -of fortune in fiction--and almost in real life--have ceased to -interest, or operate but dully upon me. Out-of-the-way humors and -opinions--heads with some diverting twist in them--the oddities of -authorship please me most. My cousin has a native disrelish of any -thing that sounds odd or bizarre. Nothing goes down with her that is -quaint, irregular, or out of the road of common sympathy. She “holds -nature more clever.” - -It has been the lot of my cousin, oftener perhaps than I could have -wished, to have had for her associates and mine freethinkers--leaders -and disciples of novel philosophies and systems; but she neither -wrangles with, nor accepts their opinions. That which was good and -venerable to her when a child, retains its authority over her mind -still. She never juggles or plays tricks with her understanding. - -We are both of us inclined to be a little too positive, and I have -observed the result of our disputes to be almost uniformly this: that -in matters of fact, dates, and circumstances, it turns out that I was -in the right, and my cousin in the wrong. But where we have differed -upon moral points, upon something proper to be done, or let alone; -whatever heat of opposition or steadiness of conviction I set out with, -I am sure always, in the long run, to be brought over to her way of -thinking. - -I must touch upon the foibles of my kinswoman with a gentle hand, for -Bridget does not like to be told of her faults. She hath an awkward -trick (to say no worse of it) of reading in company; at which times she -will answer Yes or No to a question without fully understanding its -purport--which is provoking and derogatory in the highest degree to the -dignity of the putter of the said question. Her presence of mind is -equal to the most pressing trials of life, but will sometimes desert -her upon trifling occasions. When the purpose requires it, and is a -thing of moment, she can speak to it greatly; but in matters which are -not stuff of the conscience, she hath been known sometimes to let slip -a word less seasonable. - -In a season of distress she is the truest comforter; but in the -teasing accidents and minor perplexities which do not call out the -_will_ to meet them, she sometimes maketh matters worse by an excess -of participation. If she does not always divide your trouble, upon -the pleasanter occasions of life, she is sure always to treble your -satisfaction. - -CHARLES LAMB: _Mackery End, in Hertfordshire_, ‘Essays of Elia.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Mary’s first pun.] - -When I first opened upon the just-mentioned poem [‘The Force of Prayer, -or the Founding of Bolton Priory,’] in a careless tone, I said to Mary, -as if putting a riddle, “What is good for a bootless bene?” To which, -with infinite presence of mind (as the jest-book has it), she answered, -“A shoeless pea.” It was the first she ever made. - -CHARLES LAMB: _Letter to Wordsworth_, in ‘Final Memorials,’ by T. N. -Talfourd. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Her manner of speaking.] - -She had a speaking voice, gentle and persuasive; and her smile was -her brother’s own--winning in the extreme. There was a certain -catch, or emotional breathingness, in her utterance, which gave -an inexpressible charm to her reading of poetry, and which lent a -captivating earnestness to her mode of speech when addressing those -she liked. This slight check, with its yearning, eager effect in her -voice, had something softenedly akin to her brother Charles’ impediment -of articulation: in him it scarcely amounted to a stammer, in her it -merely imparted additional stress to the fine-sensed suggestions she -made to those whom she counselled or consoled. There was a certain -old-world fashion in Mary Lamb’s diction which gave it a most natural -and quaintly pleasant effect, and which heightened rather than -detracted from the more heart-felt or important things she uttered. - -CHARLES AND MARY COWDEN CLARKE: ‘Recollections of Writers.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Writing together.] - -You would like to see us as we often sit writing on one table (but not -on one cushion sitting), like _Hermia_ and _Helena_ in the ‘Midsummer -Night’s Dream’; or rather, like an old literary Darby and Joan, I, -taking snuff, and he, groaning all the while and saying he can make -nothing of it, which he always says till he has finished, and then he -finds out that he has made something of it. - -MARY LAMB: _Letter to Sarah Stoddart_, June 2nd, 1806, in ‘Mary and -Charles Lamb: Poems, Letters and Remains,’ edited by W. Carew Hazlitt. -New York: Scribner, Welford & Armstrong, 1874. - - * * * * * - -Mary is just stuck fast in ‘All’s Well that Ends Well.’ She complains -of having to set forth so many female characters in boys’ clothes. She -begins to think Shakespeare must have wanted----Imagination. I, to -encourage her, for she often faints in the prosecution of her great -work, flatter her with telling her how well such a play and such a play -is done. But she is stuck fast. - -CHARLES LAMB: _Letter to Wordsworth_, in ‘Final Memorials,’ by T. N. -Talfourd. - - * * * * * - -I am in good spirits just at this present time, for Charles has been -reading over the _tale_ I told you plagued me so much, and he thinks it -one of the very best: it is ‘All’s Well that Ends Well.’ You must not -mind the many wretchedly dull letters I have sent you: for, indeed, I -cannot help it, my mind is so _dry_ always after poring over my work -all day. But it will soon be over. - -I am cooking a shoulder of lamb (Hazlitt dines with us); it will be -ready at two o’clock, if you can pop in and eat a bit with us. - -MARY LAMB: _Letter to Sarah Stoddart_, July, 1806, in ‘Mary and Charles -Lamb,’ by W. Carew Hazlitt. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: ‘Tales from Shakespeare.’] - -It is not generally known, perhaps, that previously to their -circulation in a collective shape, Godwin, the publisher and proprietor -of the copyright, offered them to his juvenile patrons and patronesses -at No. 41 Skinner Street, in six-penny books, with the plates (by -Blake) “beautifully colored.” - -W. CAREW HAZLITT: ‘Mary and Charles Lamb.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Praise from Landor.] - -It is now several days since I read the book you recommended to me, -‘Mrs. Leicester’s School’; and I feel as if I owed a debt in deferring -to thank you for many hours of exquisite delight. Never have I read any -thing in prose so many times over, within so short a space of time, as -‘The Father’s Wedding-day.’ Most people, I understand, prefer the first -tale--in truth a very admirable one--but others could have written it. -Show me the man or woman, modern or ancient, who could have written -this one sentence: “When I was dressed in my new frock, I wished poor -mamma was alive to see how fine I was on papa’s wedding-day; and I ran -to my favorite station at her bedroom door.” How natural, in a little -girl, is this incongruity, this impossibility!... A fresh source of the -pathetic bursts out before us, and not a bitter one.... The story is -admirable throughout--incomparable, inimitable. - -WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR: _Letter to H. C. Robinson_, April, 1831, in the -latter’s ‘Diary, Reminiscences and Correspondence.’ Boston: J. R. -Osgood & Co., 1871. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: ‘Mrs. Leicester’s School.’] - -The first edition sold out immediately, and four more were called -for in the course of five years. It has continued in fair demand -ever since, though there have not been any thing like so many recent -reprints as of the ‘Tales from Shakespeare.’ It is one of those -children’s books, which to re-open, in after-life is like revisiting -some sunny old garden, some favorite haunt of childhood, where every -nook and cranny seems familiar and calls up a thousand pleasant -memories. - -ANNE GILCHRIST: ‘Mary Lamb.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: ‘Poetry for Children.’] - -I shall have to send you, in a week or two, two volumes of juvenile -poetry done by Mary and me within the last six months.... Our -little poems are but humble, they have no name. You must read them, -remembering they were task-work; and perhaps you will admire the number -of subjects, all of children, picked out by an old bachelor and an old -maid. Many parents would not have found so many. - -CHARLES LAMB: _Letter to Coleridge_, June, 1809, in ‘Final Memorials,’ -by T. N. Talfourd. - - * * * * * - -‘Poetry for Children, Entirely Original, by the Author of Mrs. -Leicester’s School,’ as the title-page runs, was published in -the summer of 1809, and the whole of the first edition sold off -rapidly; but instead of being reprinted entire, selections from it -only--twenty-six out of the eighty-four pieces--were incorporated, by -a school-master of the name of Mylius, in two books called ‘The First -Book of Poetry’ and ‘The Poetical Class Book,’ issued from the same -Juvenile Library [Godwin’s] in 1810. These went through many editions, -but ultimately dropped quite out of sight, as the original work had -already done. Writing to Bernard Barton, in 1827, Lamb says: - -“One likes to have one copy of every thing one does. I neglected to -keep one of ‘Poetry for Children,’ the joint production of Mary and -me, and it is not to be had for love or money.” Fifty years later -such specimens of these poems as could be gathered from the Mylius’ -collections and from Lamb’s own works were republished by Mr. W. Carew -Hazlitt, and also by Richard Herne Shepherd, when at last, in 1877, -there came to hand from Australia, a copy of the original edition; it -had been purchased at a sale of books and furniture at Plymouth, in -1866, and thence carried to Adelaide. It was reprinted entire by Mr. -Shepherd (Chatto & Windus, 1878). - -ANNE GILCHRIST: ‘Mary Lamb.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Writing painful to Mary.] - -I called on Miss Lamb, and chatted with her. She had undergone great -fatigue from writing an article about needle-work, for the new _Ladies’ -British Magazine_. She spoke of writing as a most painful occupation -which only necessity could make her attempt. She has been learning -Latin merely to assist her in acquiring a correct style. Yet, while -she speaks of inability to write, what grace and talent has she not -manifested in ‘Mrs. Leicester’s School,’ etc. - -HENRY CRABB ROBINSON: ‘Diary,’ Dec., 1814. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: True hospitality.] - -Once, when some visitors chanced to drop in unexpectedly upon her -and her brother, just as they were going to sit down to their plain -dinner of a bit of roast mutton, with her usual frank hospitality, she -pressed them to stay and partake, cutting up the small joint into five -equal portions, and saying in her simple, easy way, so truly her own, -“There’s a chop apiece for us, and we can make up with bread and cheese -if we want more.” With such a woman to carve for you and eat with you, -neck of mutton was better than venison, while bread and cheese more -than replaced various courses of richest or daintiest dishes. - -CHARLES AND MARY COWDEN CLARKE: ‘Recollections of Writers.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: The Lambs “at home.”] - -Let it be any autumn or winter month, when the fire is blazing -steadily, and the clean-swept hearth and whist-tables speak of the -spirit of Mrs. Battle.... The furniture is old-fashioned and worn; -the ceiling low, and not wholly unstained by traces of “the great -plant”; but the Hogarths, in narrow black frames, abounding in infinite -thought, humor, and pathos, enrich the walls; and all things wear an -air of comfort and hearty English welcome. Lamb himself, yet unrelaxed -by the glass, is sitting with a sort of Quaker primness at the -whist-table, the gentleness of his melancholy smile half lost in his -intentness on the game; his partner, the author of ‘Political Justice,’ -is regarding his hand with a philosophic but not a careless eye; -Captain Burney, only not venerable because so young in spirit, sits -between them; and H. C. R., who alone now and then breaks the proper -silence to welcome some in-coming guest, is his happy partner--true -winner in the game of life, whose leisure, achieved early, is devoted -to his friends!... In one corner of the room, you may see the pale, -earnest countenance of Charles Lloyd, who is discoursing “of fate, -free-will, fore-knowledge absolute,” with Leigh Hunt.... Soon the -room fills; in slouches Hazlitt from the theatre, where his stubborn -anger for Napoleon’s defeat at Waterloo has been softened by Miss -Stephens’ angelic notes.... Now and then an actor glances in on us -from “the rich Cathay” of the world behind the scenes.... Meanwhile, -Becky lays the cloth on the side-table, under the direction of the -most quiet, sensible, and kind of women--who soon compels the younger -and more hungry of the guests to partake largely of the cold roast -lamb, or boiled beef, the heaps of smoking roasted potatoes, and the -vast jug of porter. Perfect freedom prevails. As the hot water and its -accompaniments appear, and the severities of whist relax, the light of -conversation thickens: Hazlitt, catching the influence of the spirit -from which he has lately begun to abstain, utters some fine criticism -with struggling emphasis; Lamb stammers out puns suggestive of wisdom; -the various driblets of talk combine into a stream, while Miss Lamb -moves gently about to see that each modest stranger is duly served; -turning, now and then, an anxious loving eye on Charles, which is -softened into a half-humorous expression of resignation to inevitable -fate, as he mixes his second tumbler! - -TALFOURD: ‘Final Recollections.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: “I must die first.”] - -She had a way of repeating her brother’s words assentingly when he -spoke to her. He once said (with his peculiar mode of tenderness, -beneath blunt, abrupt speech), “You must die first, Mary.” She nodded -with her little, quiet nod and sweet smile, “Yes, I must die first, -Charles.” - -CHARLES AND MARY COWDEN CLARKE: ‘Recollections of Writers.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: A melancholy visit.] - -I resolved to-day to discharge a melancholy duty, and went down by the -Edmonton stage to call on poor Miss Lamb. It was a melancholy sight; -but more so to the reflection than to the sense. A stranger would -have seen little remarkable about her. She was neither violent nor -unhappy; nor was she entirely without sense. She was, however, out of -her mind, as the expression is; but she could combine ideas, although -imperfectly.... She gave me her hand with great cordiality, and said: -“Now this is very kind--not merely good-natured, but very, very kind, -to come and see me in my affliction.” It would be useless to attempt -to remember all she said; but it is to be remarked that her mind -seemed turned to subjects connected with insanity as well as with her -brother’s death. She is nine years and nine months older than he, and -will soon be seventy. I have no doubt that if ever she be sensible of -her brother’s loss it will overset her again. She will live forever in -the memory of her friends as one of the most amiable and admirable of -women. - -HENRY CRABB ROBINSON: ‘Diary,’ January, 1835. - - * * * * * - -I went down to Edmonton, and found dear Mary Lamb in very good health. -She has now been so long well that one may hope for a continuance. I -took a walk with her, and she led me to Charles Lamb’s grave. - -HENRY CRABB ROBINSON: ‘Diary,’ 1837. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Mary at Edmonton after the death of Charles.] - -_He_ was there, asleep in the old churchyard, beneath the turf near -which they had stood together, and had selected for a resting-place; to -this spot she used, when well, to stroll out mournfully in the evening, -and to this spot she would contrive to lead any friend who came in -the summer evenings to drink tea and went out with her afterwards for -a walk. At length, as her illness became more frequent, and her frame -much weaker, she was induced to take up her abode under genial care, at -a pleasant house in St. John’s Wood, where she was surrounded by the -old books and prints, and was frequently visited by her reduced number -of surviving friends. - -THOMAS NOON TALFOURD: ‘Final Memorials of Charles Lamb.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Eccentricities of her last days.] - -It is well known that Miss Lamb survived her brother many years. -I remember that when she visited my father’s house at Brompton, -about 1843, she was accompanied by three or four snuff-boxes, which -came empty and went away full; and by at least four large silk -pocket-handkerchiefs, one of which was devoted to the reception of some -article from the dinner-table, which happened to strike her fancy, and -which she conveyed back with much satisfaction to St. John’s Wood.... -I met her also at Sir John Stoddart’s, in the immediate neighborhood -of our house at Brompton, and the same thing took place. It was the -poor old lady’s whim, and of course she was humored in it by every one. -Sir John had to send out to the nearest tobacconist’s, and get all the -boxes filled; and a leg of a fowl, or some other dainty morsel which -had been selected, was duly wrapped up in a bandana. - -W. CAREW HAZLITT: ‘Mary and Charles Lamb.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Her death.] - -Mary Lamb departed, eighty-two years old, on the 20th of May. She had -survived her mind in great measure, but much of the _heart_ remained. -Miss Lamb had a very fine feeling for literature, and was refined in -mind, though homely, almost coarse, in personal habits. Her departure -is an escape out of prison, to her sweet, good soul. - -SARA COLERIDGE: _Letter to Miss Fenwick_, 1847, in the former’s ‘Memoir -and Letters,’ edited by her daughter. New York: Harper & Bros., 1874. - - * * * * * - -Repeated attacks of her malady weakened her mind, but she retained to -the last her sweetness of disposition unimpaired, and gently sank into -death on the 20th of May, 1847. - -A few survivors of the old circle, now sadly thinned, attended her -remains to the spot in Edmonton churchyard, where they were laid above -those of her brother.... In accordance with Lamb’s own feeling, so far -as it could be gathered from his expressions on a subject to which he -did not often or willingly refer, he had been interred in a deep grave, -simply dug, and wattled round, but without any affectation of stone -or brickwork to keep the human dust from its kindred earth. So dry, -however, is the soil of the quiet churchyard that the excavated earth -left perfect walls of stiff clay, and permitted us just to catch a -glimpse of the still untarnished edges of the coffin in which all the -mortal part of one of the most delightful persons who ever lived was -contained, and on which the remains of her he had loved were henceforth -to rest. We felt, I believe, after a moment’s strange shuddering, that -the reunion was well accomplished; and although the true-hearted son -of Admiral Burney, who had known and loved the pair we quitted from -a child, refused to be comforted--even he will now join the scanty -remnant of their friends in the softened remembrance that “they were -lovely in their lives,” and own with them the consolation of adding, at -last, that “in death they are not divided.” - -THOMAS NOON TALFOURD: ‘Final Memorials of Charles Lamb.’ - - - - - MARIA EDGEWORTH. - - 1767-1849. - - - - - MARIA EDGEWORTH. - - -Maria Edgeworth--tiny and witty as Shakespeare’s Maria--was born on -the 1st of January, 1767, at the home of her mother’s parents, Black -Bourton, “between the towns of Farringdon, Berks, and Burford, Oxon.” -She was the daughter of Richard Lovell Edgeworth and Anna Maria Elers; -her father came of an English family which had settled in Ireland in -Queen Elizabeth’s time. Her mother died in 1773, when Maria was but -six years old; and in the same year Richard Edgeworth married Honora -Sneyd. Maria had passed her early years partly at Black Bourton and -partly at Hare Hatch, between Reading and Maidenhead, Berkshire, where -her parents lived. On Mr. Edgeworth’s second marriage she accompanied -him and his wife to Edgeworthstown, the Irish estate which had fallen -to him on the death of his father a few years before. In 1775 Maria -was sent to the boarding-school of a Mrs. Latiffiere, at Derby. In -1780 Mrs. Honora Edgeworth, the beautiful stepmother to whom the -affectionate child was much attached, died of consumption. About this -time Maria was taken from the Derby school and sent to finish her -education in London. Less than eight months after the death of his -second wife, the elastic-spirited Mr. Edgeworth married her sister -Elizabeth. - -In 1781 Maria was threatened with the loss of her eyesight; this -misfortune was averted by care, after much suffering. In 1782 she left -school for Edgeworthstown, which was her home from this time until her -death. She occupied herself in study, writing, assisting her father in -the business of the estate, and teaching the younger children. (Her -father “had, in all, twenty-two children born to him; several died in -infancy.”) - -In 1797 Mrs. Elizabeth Edgeworth died, and in the following year the -perennial Benedick was married to Frances Anne Beaufort. In 1802 Maria -went abroad with a family party, and while in Paris received an offer -of marriage from M. Edelcrantz, a Swede, which she refused. - -In 1813 the Edgeworths visited London, where Maria made the -acquaintance of many of the well-known writers of the day. In 1817 Mr. -Edgeworth died. His loss was very deeply felt by his devoted eldest -daughter, and for a time she was unable to write without his wonted -encouragement. - -Little remains to chronicle except Maria’s occasional visits to -England, and her stay at Abbotsford in 1823. In 1825 Sir Walter Scott -was her guest at Edgeworthstown. They travelled in company to the Lakes -of Killarney, and parted in Dublin. - -Maria Edgeworth died, very suddenly and painlessly, on May 22, 1849. -She had driven out, in her usual health, a few hours before. - -Miss Edgeworth’s devotion to her father was beautiful indeed, but -the complete subordination of her genius to his guidance is to be -regretted. We must, however, be too grateful for the brightness of this -genuine jewel to quarrel with its over-heavy setting. - -The following are her works: - -_Letters for Literary Ladies_, 1795. - -_The Parents’ Assistant_, 1796. - -_Practical Education_, 1798. This was the joint production of herself -and her father. - -_Moral Tales._ - -_Castle Rackrent_, 1800. - -_Belinda_, 1801. - -_Essay on Irish Bulls_ (a joint work), 1802. - -_Popular Tales_, 1803. - -_The Modern Griselda_, 1804. - -_Leonora_, 1806. - -_Professional Education_ (a joint work), 1808. - -_Tales of Fashionable Life_, 1809. - -_The Absentee_, 1812. - -_Patronage_, 1814. - -_Comic Dramas_, 1817. - -_Harrington_, about 1817. - -_Ormond_, “” - -_Thoughts on Bores_, about 1817. - -_Memoir of R. L. Edgeworth_ (continuation of a Life begun by himself), -1820. - -_Rosamond_, 1821. This was a sequel to her father’s ‘Early Lessons,’ -and was followed by ‘Harry and Lucy.’ - -_Helen_, 1834. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Birth and family.] - -She was born on the 1st of January, 1767, “a God-given New-Year’s gift” -(as, in a letter to Mrs. Hall, she calls herself), to her almost -boy-father: for, although she was his second-born, he was barely -twenty-two years old when she was placed in his arms. Ultimately she -was one of twenty-two children born to Richard Lovell Edgeworth by four -wives. - -S. C. HALL: ‘Retrospect of a Long Life.’ New York: D. Appleton & Co., -1883. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Mischievous childhood.] - -Maria, being very young, remembered little of this visit [to Ireland -in 1773, after her mother’s death and her father’s marriage to Honora -Sneyd], “except that she was a mischievous child, amusing herself once -at her Aunt Fox’s, when the company were unmindful of her, cutting out -the squares in a checked sofa-cover, and one day trampling through a -number of hot-bed frames that had just been glazed, laid on the grass -before the door at Edgeworthstown. She recollected her delight at the -crashing of the glass, but, immorally, did not remember either cutting -her feet, or how she was punished for this performance.” - -GRACE A. OLIVER: ‘A Study of Maria Edgeworth.’ Boston: A. Williams & -Co., 1882. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Maria at school.] - -She was duly tortured on back-boards, pinioned in iron collars, made -to use dumb-bells, and some rather stringent measures were taken to -draw out her muscles and increase her stature. In vain; by nature she -was a small woman, and small she remained. She also learnt to dance -with grace in the days when dancing was something more dignified than -a tearing romp, but music she failed in utterly. She had no taste -for this art, and her music master, with a wisdom unhappily too rare, -advised her to abandon the attempt to learn. She had been so well -grounded in French and Italian, that when she came to do the exercises -set her, she found them so easy that she wrote out at once those -intended for the whole quarter, keeping them strung together in her -desk, and unstringing them as required. The spare time thus secured, -was employed in reading for her own pleasure. Her favorite seat during -play-time was under a cabinet, which stood in the school-room, and here -she often remained so absorbed in her book as to be deaf to all uproar. -This early habit of concentrated attention was to stand her in good -stead through life. - -HELEN ZIMMERN: ‘Maria Edgeworth.’ (Famous Women Series.) Boston: -Roberts Bros., 1883. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: First stories.] - -I beg that you will send me a little tale, about the length of a -‘Spectator,’ upon the subject of _Generosity;_ it must be taken from -history or romance, and must be sent the sennight after you receive -this; and I beg you will take some pains about it. - -_Letter from Richard Lovell Edgeworth_ in 1780.... This was Maria’s -first story, and unfortunately it was not preserved. She used to say -“there was in it a sentence of inextricable confusion between a saddle, -a man, and his horse.” - -She was remembered by her companions at both schools [Mrs. -Latiffiere’s, at Derby, and Mrs. Davis’s, Upper Wimpole Street, -London], for her entertaining stories; and she learned to know what -tale was most successful with her hearers, by the wakefulness it -caused. These stories were told at bed-time. Many of her narrations -were taken from her memory--she devoured books while her friends -played--but very many were original. The spirit of the _raconteur_ was -strong, and she had early the fertile brain of the true novelist. - -[Sidenote: Her father’s influence.] - -Mr. Edgeworth was essentially a utilitarian. He was a practical -illustration of Bentham’s theories. When he wrote the letter to his -daughter, by Mrs. Honora Edgeworth’s death-bed, the stress he lays upon -usefulness will easily be observed. [“Continue, my dear daughter, the -desire which you feel of becoming amiable, prudent, and of _use_.”] He -was a busy man himself, full of projects and plans. He impressed these -views on the developing mind of Maria. Mme. de Staël was reported long -after to have said Maria was “lost in sad utility”; and the question -naturally comes to the mind, when we see the irrepressible imagination -of the young girl, just what her life would have been without her -father’s peculiar influence.... He checked that superabundance of -sentiment which would have endangered her clearness of mind; he kept -her stimulated and encouraged to write, by his advice, criticism, and -approbation; but it is to be feared that he clipped the wings of fancy, -and harnessed Pegasus once again, as the rustics did in an ancient -myth. When she failed in her novels to inspire her characters with -romantic interest, it was because the paramount influence of her father -asserted itself. She was certainly gifted with genius of a high order; -but her nature was most affectionate, and long habits of respect and -devotion to her father made it absolutely impossible for her to free -herself from _his_ views. She was always the dutiful daughter--quite as -much so to the last as at the time he wrote her of his desire for the -tale on “Generosity.” - -GRACE A. OLIVER: ‘A Study of Maria Edgeworth.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Her filial gratitude.] - -“Nobody can know what I owe to my father: he advised and directed me in -everything; I never could have done any thing without him. These are -things I cannot be mistaken about, though other people can--I _know_ -them.” As she said this the tears stood in her eyes, and her whole -person was moved. - -GEORGE TICKNOR: ‘Life, Letters and Journals.’ Boston: James R. Osgood & -Co., 1876. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Miss Mitford speaks her mind.] - -I am perfectly well inclined to agree with you in laying the tiresome -parts of her work to her prosing father, who is, Mr. Moore tells me, -such a nuisance in society, that in Ireland the person who is doomed to -sit next him at dinner is condoled with, just as if he had met with an -overturn, or a fall from his horse, or any other deplorable casualty. - -MARY RUSSELL MITFORD: _Letter to Sir Wm. Elford_, in L’Estrange’s ‘Life -of Mary Russell Mitford.’ London: Richard Bentley, 1870. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Maria impressed with Irish life.] - -In 1782 Maria was taken from school, and accompanied her parents and -younger brothers and sisters to Edgeworthstown. Her first visit to -Ireland was made at an exceedingly early age. This was practically her -real introduction to the scenes of her future life, the home of her -fathers. She was at the age when one is apt to notice new objects and -people with keen interest; and her new mode of life among the Irish -quickened all her thoughts, and roused her eager and animated nature. -She was very much struck by the many and extraordinary sights she -saw--the remarkable difference between the Irish and English character. -The wit, the melancholy, and gayety of the Irish were all so new and -strange to the young girl, accustomed to the stolid and unvarying -manners of the English servants, and the reserve and silence of the -upper classes, that the penetrating genius and powers of observation -of the future novelist and delineator of Irish character were vividly -impressed with her new surroundings. - -GRACE A. OLIVER: ‘A Study of Maria Edgeworth.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Business habits.] - -Some men live with their families without letting them know their -affairs, and, however great may be their affection and esteem for their -wives and children, think that they have nothing to do with business. -This was not my father’s way of thinking. On the contrary, not only -his wife, but his children, knew all his affairs. Whatever business he -had to do was done in the midst of his family, usually in the common -sitting-room: so that we were intimately acquainted, not only with his -general principles of conduct, but with the minute details of their -every-day application. I further enjoyed some peculiar advantages: -he kindly wished to give me habits of business; and for this purpose -allowed me, during many years, to assist him in copying his letters of -business, and in receiving his rents. - -MARIA EDGEWORTH: ‘Memoirs of Richard Lovell Edgeworth.’ Boston: Wells & -Lilly, 1821. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Maria accepts a young stepmother.] - -I flatter myself that you will find me gratefully exact _en -belle-fille_.... You need not, my dear Miss Beaufort, fence yourself -round with stony palings in this family, where all have been early -accustomed to mind their boundaries. As for me, you see my intentions, -or at least my theories, are good enough. If my practice be but half -as good, you will be content, will you not? But theory was born in -Brobdignag, and practice in Lilliput. So much the better for me. [She -alludes to her small stature.] - -MARIA EDGEWORTH: _Letter to Miss Beaufort_, quoted in ‘A Study of Maria -Edgeworth.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Maria in 1802.] - -I had, on entering, no eyes for any one but her. I had persuaded myself -that the author of the work on education, and of other productions, -useful as well as ornamental, would betray herself by a remarkable -exterior. I was mistaken. A small figure, eyes nearly always lowered, a -profoundly modest and reserved air, little expression in the features -when not speaking: such was the result of my first survey. But when -she spoke, which was much too rarely for my taste, nothing could have -been better thought, and nothing better said, though always timidly -expressed, than that which fell from her mouth. - -MARC AUGUSTE PICTET: ‘Voyage de Trois Mois en Angleterre,’ translated -by Grace A. Oliver in ‘A Study of Maria Edgeworth.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: A little romance.] - -Here, my dear aunt, I was interrupted in a manner that will surprise -you as much as it surprised me, by the coming in of M. Edelcrantz, -a Swedish gentleman, whom we have mentioned to you, of superior -understanding and mild manners: he came to offer me his hand and -heart! My heart, you may suppose, cannot return his attachment; for I -have seen but little of him, and have not had time to have formed any -judgment, except that I think nothing could tempt me to leave my own -dear friends and my own country to live in Sweden. - -MARIA EDGEWORTH: _Letter to Mrs. Ruxton_, quoted in ‘A Study of Maria -Edgeworth.’ - - * * * * * - -Maria was mistaken as to her own feelings. She refused M. Edelcrantz, -but she felt much more for him than esteem and admiration; she was -exceedingly in love with him. Mr. Edgeworth left her to decide for -herself; but she saw too plainly what it would be to us to lose her, -and what she would feel at parting from us.... She suffered much at the -time, and long afterwards.... ‘Leonora,’ which she began immediately -after our return home, was written with the hope of pleasing the -Chevalier Edelcrantz: it was written in a style he liked; and the idea -of what he would think of it was, I believe, present to her in every -page she wrote. She never heard that he had even read it.... I do not -think she ever repented of her refusal or regretted her decision: she -was well aware that she could not have made him happy, that she would -not have suited his position at the court of Stockholm, and that her -want of beauty might have diminished his attachment. It was better, -perhaps, that she should think so, as it calmed her mind; but, from -what I saw of M. Edelcrantz, I think he was a man capable of deeply -valuing her.... He never married. He was, except very fine eyes, -remarkably plain. Her father rallied Maria about her preference of -so ugly a man; but she liked the expression of his countenance, the -spirit and strength of his character, and his very able conversation. -The unexpected mention of his name, or even that of Sweden, in a book -or newspaper, always moved her so much that the words and lines in the -page became a mass of confusion before her eyes, and her voice lost all -power. - -MRS. EDGEWORTH: ‘Memoir,’ quoted in ‘A Study of Maria Edgeworth.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Mr. Edgeworth’s want of tact.] - -The Edgeworths ... are staying in London, and the daughter gains the -good-will of every one; not so the father. They dined at Sotheby’s. -After dinner Mr. Edgeworth was sitting next Mrs. Siddons, Sam Rogers -being on the other side of her. “Madam,” said he, “I think I saw you -perform ‘Millamont’ thirty-five years ago.”--“Pardon me, sir.”--“Oh! -then it was forty years ago: I distinctly recollect it.”--“You will -excuse me, sir, I never played ‘Millamont.’”--“Oh, yes! madam, I -recollect.”--“I think,” she said, turning to Mr. Rogers, “it is time -for me to change my place;” and she rose with her own peculiar dignity. - -HENRY CRABB ROBINSON: ‘Diary and Correspondence,’ edited by T. Sadler. -Boston: J. R. Osgood & Co., 1871. - - * * * * * - -In 1813 I recollect to have met them in the fashionable world of -London.... I thought Edgeworth a fine old fellow, of a clarety, -elderly, red complexion, but active, brisk, and endless. He was -seventy, but did not look fifty,--no, nor forty-eight even.... -Edgeworth bounced about and talked loud and long; ... he seemed neither -weakly nor decrepit, and hardly old. - -[Sidenote: Mr. Edgeworth.] - -He began by telling “that he had given Dr. Parr a dressing, who had -taken him for an Irish bog-trotter,” etc. Now I, who know Dr. Parr, and -who know ... that it is not so easy a matter to dress him, thought Mr. -Edgeworth an asserter of what was not true. He could not have stood -before Parr an instant. For the rest, he seemed intelligent, vehement, -vivacious and full of life. He bids fair for a hundred years. - -[Sidenote: “A merry jest.”] - -He was not much admired in London; and I remember a “ryght merrie” and -conceited jest which was rife among the gallants of the day; viz., a -paper had been presented for _the recall of Mrs. Siddons to the stage_. -Whereupon Thomas Moore, of profane and poetical memory, did propose ... -a similar paper ... for the recall of Mr. Edgeworth to Ireland. - -[Moore, in a foot-note, disclaims the authorship of the jest.] - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Maria described.] - -The fact was, everybody cared more about _her_. She was a nice, little, -unassuming “Jeanie Deans looking body,” as we Scotch say, and if not -handsome, certainly not ill-looking. Her conversation was as quiet as -herself. One would never have guessed that she could write _her name_; -whereas her father talked, _not_ as if he could write nothing else, but -as if nothing else was worth writing. - -As for Mrs. Edgeworth, I forget, except that I think she was the -youngest of the party. Altogether, they were an excellent cage of the -kind, and succeeded for two months, till the landing of Mme. de Staël. - -LORD BYRON: _Diary_, 1821, in ‘Letters and Journals of Lord Byron, with -Notices of His Life,’ edited by Thomas Moore. New York: Harper & Bros., -1868. - - * * * * * - -Her face was pale and thin, her features irregular: they may have been -considered plain, even in youth; but her expression was so benevolent, -her manners were so perfectly well-bred, partaking of English dignity -and Irish frankness, that one never thought of her with reference -either to beauty or plainness. She ever occupied, without claiming, -attention, charming continually by her singularly pleasant voice; -while the earnestness and truth that beamed from her bright blue--very -blue--eyes increased the value of every word she uttered.... She was -ever neat and particular in her dress; her feet and hands were so -delicate and small as to be almost childlike. - -MRS. S. C. HALL: ‘Book of Memories.’ London: Virtue & Co., 1871. - - * * * * * - -Her personal appearance was that of a woman plain of dress, sedate in -manners, and remarkably small of person. She told us an anecdote on -that head. Travelling in a mail-coach, there was a little boy, also -a passenger, who, wanting to take something from the seat, asked her -if she would be so kind as to stand up. “Why, I am standing up,” she -answered. The lad looked at her with astonishment, and then, realizing -the verity of her declaration, broke out with: “Well, you are the very -littlest lady I ever did see!” - -S. C. HALL: ‘Retrospect of a Long Life.’ - - * * * * * - -Miss Edgeworth’s personal appearance was not attractive; but her -vivacity, good humor, and cleverness in conversation quite equalled my -expectations. I should say she was more sprightly and brilliant than -refined. She excelled in the raciness of Irish humor, but the great -defect of her manner, as it seemed to me, was an excess of compliment, -or what in Ireland is called “blarney”; and in one who had moved in the -best circles, both as to manners and mind, it surprised me not a little. - -MRS. FLETCHER: ‘Autobiography.’ Boston: Roberts Brothers, 1876. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: The Whippity Stourie.] - -We saw, you will readily suppose, a great deal of Miss Edgeworth, and -two very nice girls, her younger sisters. It is scarcely possible -to say more of this very remarkable person than that she not only -completely answered, but exceeded, the expectations which I had formed. -I am particularly pleased with the _naïveté_ and good-humored ardor of -mind which she unites with such formidable powers of acute observation. -In external appearance she is quite the fairy of our nursery-tale,--the -Whippity Stourie, if you remember such a sprite, who came flying -through the window to work all sorts of marvels. I will never believe -but what she has a wand in her pocket, and pulls it out to conjure -a little before she begins to draw those very striking pictures of -manners. - -SIR WALTER SCOTT: _Letter to Joanna Baillie_, 1823, in the former’s -‘Memoirs,’ by J. G. Lockhart. Edinburgh: Adam and Charles Black, 1871. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Conversation.] - -Miss Edgeworth was delightful, so clever and sensible. She does not say -witty things, but there is such a perfume of wit runs through all her -conversation as makes it very brilliant. - -SIDNEY SMITH: Quoted in ‘Memoir,’ by his daughter, Lady Holland. -London: Longmans, Green & Co. - - * * * * * - -We could but liken her to the benevolent fairy from whose lips were -perpetually dropping diamonds; there was so much of kindly wisdom in -every sentence she uttered. - -S. C. HALL: ‘Retrospect of a Long Life.’ - - * * * * * - -In the evening Miss Edgeworth delightful--not from display, but from -repose and unaffectedness--the least pretending person of the company. - -THOMAS MOORE: _Extract from Diary_, 1818. - - * * * * * - -Miss Edgeworth, with all her cleverness, is anything but agreeable. -The moment any one begins to speak, off she starts too, seldom more -than a sentence behind them, and in general continues to distance every -speaker. Neither does what she says, though of course very sensible, -at all make up for this over-activity of tongue. - -THOMAS MOORE: _Extract from Diary_, 1831, in ‘Memoirs, Journal and -Correspondence,’ edited by Lord John Russell. London: Longman, Brown, -Green & Longmans, 1854. - - * * * * * - -In conversation we found her delightful. She was full of anecdotes -about remarkable people, and often spoke from her personal knowledge of -them. Her memory, too, was stored with valuable information; and her -manner of narrating was so animated that it was difficult to realize -her age. In telling an anecdote of Mirabeau, she stepped out before us, -and, extending her arms, spoke a sentence of his in the impassioned -manner of a French orator, and did it so admirably that it was quite -thrilling. - -ELIZA FARRAR: ‘Recollections of Seventy Years.’ Boston: Ticknor & -Fields, 1866. - - * * * * * - -There was a life and spirit about her conversation, she threw herself -into it with such _abandon_, she retorted with such brilliant repartee, -and, in short, she talked with such extraordinary flow of natural -talent, that I don’t know whether anything of the kind could be finer. - -GEORGE TICKNOR: ‘Life, Letters and Journals.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Activity.] - -There was a charm in all she looked and said and did. Incessant and yet -genial activity was a marked feature of her nature. She seemed to be as -nearly ubiquitous as a human creature can be, and always busy; not only -as a teacher of her younger brothers and sisters (she was nearly fifty -years older than one of them), but as the director and controller of -the household. - -S. C. HALL: ‘Retrospect of a Long Life.’ - - * * * * * - -I have not the pen of our friend Miss Edgeworth, who writes all the -while she laughs, talks, eats and drinks, and I believe, though I do -not pretend to be so far in the secret, all the time she sleeps, too. -She has good luck in having a pen which walks at once so unweariedly -and so well. - -SIR WALTER SCOTT: _Letter to Joanne Baillie_, in the former’s -‘Memoirs,’ by J. G. Lockhart. - - * * * * * - -What do you think is my employment out of doors, and what it has -been this week past? My garden? No such elegant thing: but making a -gutter, a sewer, and a pathway, in the street of Edgeworthstown; and I -do declare I am as much interested about it as I ever was in writing -anything in my life. We have never here yet found it necessary to have -recourse to public contributions for the poor; but it is necessary to -give some assistance to the laboring class, and I find that making the -said gutter and pathway will employ twenty men for three weeks. - -MARIA EDGEWORTH: _Letter_, quoted in ‘A Study of Maria Edgeworth.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: The Edgeworth homestead in 1842.] - -Edgeworthstown was, and is, a large country mansion, to which additions -have been from time to time made, but made judiciously. An avenue of -venerable trees leads to it from the public road. It is distant about -seven miles from the town of Longford. The only room I need specially -refer to is the library: it belonged more peculiarly to Maria, -although the general sitting-room of the family. It was the room in -which she did nearly all her work; not only that which was to gratify -and instruct the world, but that which, in a measure, regulated the -household. It is by no means a stately, solitary room, but large, -spacious, and lofty, well stored with books, and furnished with -suggestive engravings. Seen through the window is the lawn, embellished -by groups of trees. If you look at the oblong table in the centre, you -will see the rallying-point of the family, who are usually around it, -reading, writing, or working; while Miss Edgeworth, only anxious that -the inmates of the house shall each do exactly as he or she pleases, -sits in her own peculiar corner on the sofa: a pen given her by Sir -Walter Scott while a guest at Edgeworthstown (in 1825) is placed before -her on a little, quaint, unassuming table, constructed, and added to, -for convenience. - -MR. AND MRS. S. C. HALL: ‘Book of Memories.’ - - * * * * * - -For a long time Miss Edgeworth used a little desk in this room, on -which, two years before her father’s death, he inscribed the following -words: - -[Sidenote: Maria’s desk.] - -“On this humble desk were written all the numerous works of my -daughter, Maria Edgeworth, in the common sitting-room of my family. In -these works, which were chiefly written to please me, she has never -attacked the personal character of any human being, or interfered -with the opinions of any sect or party, religious or political; while -endeavoring to inform and instruct others, she improved and amused her -own mind and gratified her heart, which I do believe, is better than -her head. - - “R. L. E.” - -After Mr. Edgeworth’s death she used a writing-desk which had belonged -to him; and it was placed on a table of his construction, to which she -added a bracket for her candlestick, and other little conveniences. - -GRACE A. OLIVER: ‘A Study of Maria Edgeworth.’ - - * * * * * - -The house and many of its arrangements--the bells, the doors, -etc.--bear witness to that love of mechanical trifling of which Mr. -Edgeworth was so often accused. It was only this morning that I -fully learnt how to open, shut, and lock our chamber-door; and the -dressing-glass, at which I have shaved for three mornings, is somewhat -of a mystery to me still. - -GEORGE TICKNOR: ‘Life, Letters and Journals.’ - - * * * * * - -When shown to our bedroom, we found such an extraordinary lock on the -door that we dared not shut it for fear of not being able to open it -again. We were shown other contrivances of the former owner, such as a -door in the entrance hall (through which the servants were continually -passing), the motion of which wound up a clock, the face being over -the sideboard, in the dining-room. Several doors in the house were -made double, in a way that I could not see the use of. Two doors were -fastened together at the hinge side, making a right angle with each -other, so that in opening one door you shut the other, and had to open -that before you could enter, and when that opened the one behind you -shut. Miss Edgeworth said it was for safety in times of danger. She -always mentioned her father with great respect, and even reverence, in -her manner; but nothing that I saw or heard there raised my opinion of -him. - -ELIZA FARRAR: ‘Recollections of Seventy Years.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Power of abstraction.] - -She had a singular power of abstraction; apparently hearing all that -was said, and occasionally taking part in the conversation, while -pursuing her own occupation, and seemingly attending only to it. Now -and then she would rise and leave the room, perhaps to procure a toy -for one of the children, to mount the ladder and bring down a book -that could explain or illustrate some topic on which some one was -conversing: immediately she would resume her pen, and continue to write -as if the thought had been unbroken for an instant. - -MR. AND MRS. S. C. HALL: ‘Book of Memories.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Daily life.] - -It was her custom to get up at seven, take a cup of coffee, read her -letters, and then walk out about three quarters of an hour before -breakfast. So punctual and regular was she that for many years a lady -residing in the village used to be roused by her maid with the words, -“Miss Edgeworth’s walking, ma’am; it’s eight o’clock.” She generally -returned with her hands full of roses or other flowers that she had -gathered, and taking her needle-work or knitting, would sit down at the -family breakfast, a meal that was a special favorite of hers, though -she rarely partook of anything. But while the others were eating she -delighted to read out to them such extracts from the letters she had -received as she thought would please them. She listened, too, while -the newspaper was read aloud, although its literary and scientific -contents always attracted her more than its political; for in politics, -except Irish, she took little interest. - -HELEN ZIMMERN: ‘Maria Edgeworth.’ - - * * * * * - -After breakfast she sat down to write, and worked till luncheon-time; -and after that meal occupied herself with some needle-work, as -experience taught her that writing immediately after eating was bad for -her. At times her anxiety about a certain piece of work, an interesting -dialogue, or some half-finished character or scene, made her very -unwilling to defer her writing; but this was her rule. A drive in the -afternoon, in later years, was a pleasant relaxation: in early life she -rode with her father, but natural timidity about horses made her a poor -horsewoman. The rest of the day was passed much as other ladies pass -their time. She dined, took tea with the family, and passed the evening -in conversation, or listening to reading.... Maria was always busy with -a little piece of work with which she occupied herself during hours of -leisure from writing, or while she listened to reading aloud. These -busy fingers wrought many a piece of embroidery or fine needle-work, -while the brain wove the web of fancies bright or serious; many a scene -of lively dialogue, clever character-painting, or pathetic description, -passed into the clear words in which it later appeared on the pages of -tale or novel, while the hand was rapidly moving in some womanly bit of -needle-work. - -GRACE A. OLIVER: ‘A Study of Maria Edgeworth.’ * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Miss Edgeworth in 1821.] - -At last we approached the house. It is spacious, with an ample veranda -and conservatory covering part of its front quite beautifully, and -situated in a fine lawn of the richest green, interspersed with clumps -of venerable oaks and beeches. As we drove to the door, Miss Edgeworth -came out to meet us,--a small, short, spare lady of about sixty-seven, -with extremely frank and kind manners, and who always looks straight -into your face with a pair of mild, deep gray eyes, whenever she speaks -to you. - -GEORGE TICKNOR: ‘Life, Letters, and Journals.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Never sat for her portrait.] - -Miss Edgeworth ... carried herself very upright, with a dapper figure -and quick movements. She was the remains of a blonde, with light eyes -and hair; she was now gray, but wore a dark frisette, whilst the gray -hair showed through her cap behind. She was so plain that she was never -willing to sit for her portrait, and that is the reason why the public -has never been made acquainted with her personal appearance. - -ELIZA FARRAR: ‘Recollections of Seventy Years.’ - - * * * * * - -Her person is small and delicately proportioned, and her movements full -of animation. She has an aversion to having her likeness taken, which -no entreaties of her friends have been able to overcome. In one of her -notes she says, “I have always refused even my own family to sit for -my portrait, and with my own good-will, shall never have it painted; -as I do not think it would give either my friends or the public any -representation or expression of my mind, such as I trust may be more -truly found in my writings.” - -MRS. L. H. SIGOURNEY: ‘Pleasant Memories of Pleasant Lands.’ Boston: -James Munroe & Co., 1844. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: A good churchwoman.] - -We went to church with the family, who all seemed Episcopalians in -principle and practice. Miss Edgeworth carried her favorite prayer-book -in a nice case, and knelt and made all the responses very devoutly. -The church is small, but neat; and their pew is the place of honor -in it, with a canopy and recess as large as any two other pews.... -The Edgeworths have always been on the most kindly terms with their -Catholic neighbors and tenantry. - -GEORGE TICKNOR: ‘Life, Letters and Journals.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: A masculine understanding and no enthusiasm.] - -I attended with much interest to the conversation of this remarkable -woman. She was little and possessed of no personal attractions; it -was evident that the usual feminine objects had never interfered -with her masculine understanding. Her conversation was chiefly -remarkable for its acuteness, good sense and practical sagacity. She -had little imagination and scarcely any enthusiasm. Solid sense, -practical acquirement--the qualities which will lead to success in the -world--were her great endowments, and they appeared at every turn in -her conversation, as they do in her writings. This disposition of mind -kept her free from the usual littlenesses of authors and raised her far -above the ordinary vanity of woman. She was simple and unaffected in -her manners, entirely free from conceit or effort in her conversation, -and kindly and benevolent in her judgment of others, as well as in her -views of life and in her intercourse with all around her. But she had -neither a profound knowledge of human nature nor the elevated mental -qualities which give a lasting ascendency over mankind. - -SIR ARCHIBALD ALISON: ‘Some Account of My Life and Writings: an -Autobiography.’ Wm. Blackwood & Sons: Edinburgh and London, 1883. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Full of enthusiasm.] - -She is full of fun and spirit; very good-humored, full of enthusiasm. - -SIR WALTER SCOTT: _Letter to D. Terry_, in the former’s ‘Memoirs,’ by -J. G. Lockhart. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Warm-hearted and clever.] - -Maria Edgeworth came frequently to see us when she was in England. She -was one of my most intimate friends, warm-hearted and kind, a charming -companion, with all the liveliness and originality of an Irishwoman. -The cleverness and animation, as well as affection, of her letters, I -cannot express. - -MARY SOMERVILLE: ‘Personal Recollections, from Early Life to Old Age.’ -Boston: Roberts Bros., 1874. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Attitude toward authorship.] - -Miss Edgeworth never needed to follow authorship as a profession; its -pecuniary results were of no moment to her, and hence she was spared -all the bitterness and incidental anxieties of an author’s life, the -working when the brain should rest, the imperative need to go on, -no matter whether there be aught to say or not. Her path, in this -respect, as in all others, traversed the high roads of life. Fame at -once succeeded effort; the heart-sickness of hope deferred was never -hers; she was therefore neither soured nor embittered by feeling within -herself powers which the world was unwilling or slow to acknowledge. - -HELEN ZIMMERN: ‘Maria Edgeworth.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Method of working with her father.] - -Whenever I thought of writing anything I always told my father my -first rough plans; and always, with the instinct of a good critic, he -used to fix immediately upon that which would best answer the purpose. -“Sketch that, and show it to me.” The words, from the experience of -his sagacity, never failed to inspire me with hope of success. It was -then sketched. Sometimes, when I was fond of a particular part, I used -to dilate on it in the sketch, but to this he always objected. “I -don’t want any of your painting--none of your drapery! I can imagine -all that. Let me see the bare skeleton!” It seemed to me sometimes -impossible that he could understand the very light sketch I made; -when, before I was conscious that I had expressed this doubt in my -countenance, he always saw it. “Now, my dear little daughter, I know, -does not believe that I understand her.” Then he would in his own words -fill up my sketch, paint the description, or represent the character -intended, with such life, that I was quite convinced he not only seized -the ideas, but that he saw with the prophetic eye of taste, the utmost -that could be made of them. - -HELEN ZIMMERN: ‘Maria Edgeworth.’ - - * * * * * - -‘Helen,’ written long after his death, would serve to reveal something -of the effect which Mr. Edgeworth had on his daughter’s writing. It -shows a lighter hand, a greater ease in handling dialogue, and a more -natural inconsistency in its characters, than she was allowed by her -father.... The hand of Miss Edgeworth had not lost its cunning, but -her natural timidity was so great that she could not work after her -life-long support was removed. She had accustomed herself to lean upon -what she considered her father’s superior knowledge of the world and -literary judgment, until she was unfitted for independent literary work -for a time. - -GRACE A. OLIVER: ‘A Study of Maria Edgeworth.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Reads ‘A simple Story.’] - -[Sidenote: Opinion of her own work.] - -I have been reading, for the fourth time I believe, ‘The Simple Story,’ -which I intended this time to read as a critic, that I might write to -Mrs. Inchbald about it; but I was so carried away by it that I ... -cried my eyes almost out before I came to the end.... I was obliged -to go from it to correct ‘Belinda’ for Mrs. Barbauld, who is going to -insert it in her collection of novels, with a preface; and I really was -so provoked with the cold tameness of that stick or stone, ‘Belinda,’ -that I could have torn the pages to pieces. And, really, I have not the -heart or the patience to _correct_ her. As the hackney coachman said, -“Mend _you_! better make a new one.” - -MARIA EDGEWORTH: _Letter_, quoted in ‘A Study of Maria Edgeworth.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Origin of ‘Harrington’ and ‘Ormond.’] - -In 1816 Maria received a letter from an American Jewess, a Miss Rachel -Mordecai of Virginia, gently reproaching her with having made Jews -ridiculous and odious in her novels and tales, and begging her to give -the world a picture of a good Jew. This was the origin of the story of -‘Harrington.’... Mr. Edgeworth had expressed a wish to Maria that she -should write a story as a companion to ‘Harrington’; and with all the -anguish of heart which oppressed her natural spirits, at the sight of -her father suffering such pain, and daily growing weaker, she made a -strong effort to amuse him. By a wonderful exertion of love and genius, -she produced the gay and spirited pages of ‘Ormond’; among which may -be found some of her most vivacious scenes, her inimitable characters. -Wit, humor, and pathos made the story a bright entertainment for the -sufferer; who could not have realized in a line of its pages the aching -heart which dictated it. The book was read chapter by chapter in her -father’s room. - -GRACE A. OLIVER: ‘A Study of Maria Edgeworth.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Literary theories.] - -I had often and often a suspicion that my manner was too Dutch, too -minute.... I _know_ I feel how much _more is to be done, ought to -be done_, by suggestion than by delineation, by creative fancy than -by _fac simile_ copying; how much more by skilful selection and -fresh, consistent combination, than can be effected by the most acute -observation of individuals, or diligent accumulation of particulars. - -There are little touches of _inconsistency_, which mark reality; for -human nature is really inconsistent. And there are _exceptions_, as -in grammar rules.... The value of odd characters depends upon their -being actually known to be true. In history, extraordinary characters -always interest us with all their inconsistencies, feeling we thus add -to our actual knowledge of human nature. In fiction, we have not this -conviction, and therefore not this sort or source of pleasure, even if -ever so well done. - -Few readers do, or can, put themselves in the places of great -criminals, or fear to yield to such and such temptations. They know -that they cannot fall to the depth of evil at once, and they have no -sympathy, no fear: their spirits are not “put in the act of falling.” -But show them the steep path, the little declivity at first, the step -by step downwards; and they tremble. Show them the postern-gate, or -little breaches in their citadel of virtue; and they fly to guard -these. In short, show to them their own little faults which may lead -on to the greatest, and they shudder; that is, if this be done with -truth, and brought home to their consciousness. This is all which, by -reflection on my own mind, and comparison with others and with records -in books, ... I feel or fancy I have sometimes done or can do. - -[Sidenote: “No commonplace book.”] - -I have no “vast magazine of a commonplace book.” In my whole life, -since I began to write--which is now, I am concerned to state, upwards -of forty years--I have had only about half a dozen little note-books, -strangely and irregularly kept, sometimes with only words of reference -to some book or fact I could not bring accurately to mind. At first -I was much urged by my father to note down remarkable traits of -character, or incidents, which he thought might be introduced in -stories. But I was averse to noting down, because I was conscious that -it did better for me to keep the things in my head if they suited my -purpose; and if they did not, they would only encumber me. I knew -that when I wrote down, I put the thing out of my care, out of my -head; and that, though it might be put by very safe, I should not -know where to look for it; that the labor of looking over a note-book -would never do when I was in the warmth and pleasure of inventing. -In short, the process of combination, generalization, invention, was -carried on always in my head best.... I never could use notes in -writing dialogues. It would have been as impossible to me to get in -the prepared good things at the right moment, in the warmth of writing -conversation, as it would be to lay them in in real conversation; -perhaps more so, for I could not write dialogues at all without being -at the time fully impressed with the characters, imagining myself each -speaker; and that too fully engrossed the imagination to leave time for -consulting note-books: the whole fairy vision would melt away. - -[Sidenote: “Castle Rackrent” not corrected or copied.] - -A curious fact, that where I least aimed at drawing characters, I -succeeded best. As far as I have heard, the characters in ‘Castle -Rackrent’ were in their day considered as better classes of Irish -characters than any I ever drew; they cost me no trouble, and were made -by no _receipt_, or thought of “philosophical classification”; there -was literally not a correction, not an alteration, made in the first -writing, no copy, and, as I recollect, no interlineation; it went -to the press just as it was written. Other stories I have corrected -with the greatest care, and re-modelled and re-written.... In every -story (except ‘Rackrent’) which I ever wrote, I have always drawn out -a sketch, a frame-work. All these are in existence; and I have lately -compared many of the printed stories with them, some strangely altered, -by the way. - -MARIA EDGEWORTH: _Letter to Mrs. Stark_, quoted in ‘A Study of Maria -Edgeworth.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Detestation of fine writing.] - -You excel, I think, peculiarly in avoiding what is commonly called -_fine-writing_,--a sort of writing which I detest; which calls the -attention away from the _thing_ to the _manner_, from the feeling -to the language; which sacrifices every thing to the sound, to the -mere rounding of a period; which mistakes _stage effect_ for nature. -All who are at all used to writing know and detect the _trick of the -trade_ immediately; and, speaking for myself, I _know_ that the writing -which has least the appearance of literary _manufacture_, almost -always pleases me the best. It has more originality; in narration -of fictitious events, it most surely succeeds in giving the idea of -reality, and in making the biographer, for the time, pass for nothing. -But there are few who can, in this manner, bear the _mortification_ -of staying behind the scenes. They peep out eager for appearance, and -destroy the illusion by crying, _I_ said it, _I_ wrote it, _I_ invented -it all! Call me on the stage and crown me directly! - -MARIA EDGEWORTH: _Letter to Mrs. Inchbald_, quoted in ‘A Study of Maria -Edgeworth.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Effect of the ‘Moral Tales.’] - -Miss Edgeworth has done more good both to the higher and lower world -than any writer since the days of Addison. She shoots at “folly as -it flies,” with the strong bolt of ridicule, and seldom misses her -aim. Much as I admire the polished satire and nice discrimination of -character in the ‘Tales of Fashionable Life,’ I prefer the homely -pathos and plain morality of her ‘Popular Tales.’ The story of Rosanna -is particularly delightful to me; and that of ‘To-morrow,’ made so deep -an impression on my mind, that, if it were possible for any earthly -power to reform a procrastinator, I really think that tale would have -cured me of my evil habits.... I delight in her works for the same -reason that you admire them--her exquisite distinction of character; -whereas I am convinced that at least nine-tenths of her readers are -caught solely by the humor of her dialogue and the liveliness of her -illustrations. - -MARY RUSSELL MITFORD: _Letter to Sir William Elford_, in the former’s -‘Life,’ by L’Estrange. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Too didactic.] - -Miss Edgeworth is somewhat too avowedly didactic: that seems to be -true of her, which the French critics, in the extravagance of their -conceits, attributed to Homer and Virgil, viz:--that they first thought -of a moral, and then framed a fable to illustrate it; she would, -we think, instruct more successfully, and she would, we are sure, -please more frequently, if she kept the design of teaching more out -of sight, and did not so glaringly press every circumstance of her -story, principal or subordinate, into the service of a principle to be -inculcated, or information to be given.... Miss Edgeworth’s novels put -us in mind of those clocks and watches which are condemned “a double -or a treble debt to pay”; which, besides their legitimate object, to -show the hour, tell you the day of the month or the week, give you a -landscape for a dial-plate, with the second-hand forming the sails of a -wind-mill, or have a barrel to play a tune, or an alarum to remind you -of an engagement: all very good things in their way; but so it is that -these watches never tell the time so well as those in which that is the -exclusive object of the maker. Every additional movement is an obstacle -to the original design. - -SIR WALTER SCOTT: ‘Miss Austen’s Novels,’ _London Quarterly Review_, -January, 1821. ‘Scott’s Miscellanies,’ _vol. i_. Philadelphia: Carey & -Hart, 1841. - - - - - JANE AUSTEN. - - 1775-1817. - - - - - JANE AUSTEN. - - -Jane Austen may be said to have had the happiness of being without -a history. No other English woman of letters ever lived a life so -entirely uneventful. Its monotony was unbroken by travel, or by -acquaintance or even correspondence with other writers. Its placid flow -was never interrupted by love, or there is at least no surface-ripple -to tell us of the fact. We learn from the memoir by her nephew, the -Rev. J. E. Austen-Leigh, that she was the daughter of a Hampshire -clergyman; she had one sister, very dear to her, and several brothers, -one of whom rose to the rank of admiral in the navy. Jane was born on -the 16th of December, 1775. In the years 1796 and ’97, before she was -twenty-three years old, she wrote the novel _Pride and Prejudice_; in -1797 and ’98, _Sense and Sensibility_, and _Northanger Abbey_. These -works, however, waited fifteen years for a publisher; and Jane, who -wrote merely for her own amusement, seems to have possessed her soul -in patience. In 1801 the family removed to Bath; in 1805 the Rev. -George Austen died, and they again removed to Southampton. In 1809 they -settled at Chawton, Hampshire; and in 1811 Jane was at length enabled -to publish _Sense and Sensibility_. It was followed in 1813 by _Pride -and Prejudice_. _Mansfield Park_ appeared in 1814, and _Emma_ in 1816. - -Jane Austen died on the 18th of July, 1817. After her death her early -novel _Northanger Abbey_, and _Persuasion_, a mature work which has the -same mellower quality as _Emma_, together with a pathos peculiarly its -own, were published. - -From the testimony of her nephew and the internal evidence of her -books, we may conclude Jane Austen to have been a decorous English -gentlewoman, conservative in temper, essentially feminine; a silent, -humorous observer of the most minute details; an affectionate daughter -and sister and a delightful aunt; at home “a still, sweet, placid -moonlight face, and slightly nonchalant”--abroad, perhaps a trifle -chilling. We may eke out the meagre record of her life with many -praises, drawn from widely-differing sources. If some of these appear -to us extravagant, and we are driven by reaction to complain of a -certain superficiality in Miss Austen’s writings, we should be disarmed -by the recollection that she is never pretentious. No better example -exists of a talent kept within its proper limitations. It has been well -said, that her enclosed spot of English ground is indeed little, but -never was verdure brighter or more velvety than its trim grass. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Home at Steventon.] - -As the first twenty-five years, more than half of the brief life of -Jane Austen, were spent in the parsonage of Steventon, some description -of that place ought to be given. Steventon is a small rural village -upon the chalk hills of North Hants, situated in a winding valley -about seven miles from Basingstoke.... Of this somewhat tame country, -Steventon, from the fall of the ground and the abundance of its -timber, is certainly one of the prettiest spots. The house itself stood -in a shallow valley, surrounded by sloping meadows, well-sprinkled -with elm trees, at the end of a small village of cottages, each well -provided with a garden, scattered about prettily on either side of -the road.... North of the house, the road from Deane to Popham Lane -ran at a sufficient distance from the front to allow a carriage-drive -through turf and trees. On the south side the ground rose gently, and -was occupied by one of those old-fashioned gardens in which vegetables -and flowers are combined, flanked and protected on the east by one of -the thatched mud walls common in that country, and overshadowed by fine -elms. Along the upper or southern side of this garden, ran a terrace -of the finest turf, which must have been in the writer’s thoughts when -she described Catharine Morland’s childish delight in “rolling down the -green slope at the back of the house.” - -REV. J. E. AUSTEN-LEIGH: ‘A Memoir of Jane Austen.’ London: Richard -Bentley, 1870. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Appearance in girlhood.] - -When I knew Jane Austen, I never suspected that she was an authoress; -but my eyes told me she was fair and handsome, slight and elegant, but -with cheeks a little too full. The last time I think that I saw her was -at Ramsgate in 1803: perhaps she was then about twenty-seven years old. -Even then I did not know that she was addicted to literary composition. - -SIR EGERTON BRYDGES: ‘Autobiography, Times, Opinions and -Contemporaries.’ London: Cochrane & M’Crane, 1834. - - -[Sidenote: In later years.] - -[Sidenote: Attachment to her sister Cassandra.] - -In person she was very attractive; her figure was rather tall and -slender, her step light and firm, and her whole appearance expressive -of health and animation. In complexion she was a clear brunette, with -a rich color; she had full round cheeks, with mouth and nose small and -well-formed, bright hazel eyes, and brown hair forming natural curls -close round her face. If not so regularly handsome as her sister, yet -her countenance had a peculiar charm of its own to the eyes of most -beholders. At the time of which I am now writing [1809] she never -was seen, either morning or evening, without a cap; I believe that -she and her sister were generally thought to have taken to the garb -of middle-age earlier than their years or their looks required; and -that, though remarkably neat in their dress as in all their ways, -they were scarcely sufficiently regardful of the fashionable, or the -becoming. Dearest of all to the heart of Jane was her sister Cassandra, -about three years her senior. Their sisterly affection for each other -could scarcely be exceeded. Perhaps it began on Jane’s side with -the feeling of deference natural to a loving child towards a kind -elder sister. Something of this feeling always remained; and even in -the maturity of her powers and the enjoyment of increasing success, -she would still speak of Cassandra as of one wiser and better than -herself. In childhood, when the elder was sent to the school of a Mrs. -Latournelle, in the Torbury at Reading, the younger went with her not -because she was thought old enough to profit much by the instruction -there imparted, but because she would have been miserable without her -sister; her mother observing that “if Cassandra were going to have her -head cut off, Jane would insist on sharing her fate.” This attachment -was never interrupted or weakened. They lived in the same home and -shared the same bedroom, till separated by death. They were not exactly -alike. Cassandra’s was the colder and calmer disposition; she was -always prudent and well judging, but with less demonstration of feeling -and less sunniness of temper than Jane possessed. It was remarked in -her family that “Cassandra had the _merit_ of having her temper always -under command, but that Jane had the _happiness_ of a temper that never -required to be commanded.” - -REV. J. E. AUSTEN-LEIGH: ‘A Memoir of Jane Austen.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Its influence on her art.] - -The bond of sisterhood, more than any other relation, seems to have -influenced Jane Austen in her art. With her own closest life-long -friend in her sister Cassandra, the author who so rarely repeats -herself in the circumscribed sphere in which she chose to work, again -and again draws a pair of sisters, for the most part sharing every joy -and sorrow. In two or three cases--those of the Bennets, the Dashwoods, -Mrs. John Knightley and Emma Woodhouse, we have the contrast between -the milder and more serene elder, and the livelier, more impulsive -younger sister, which caused their contemporaries to say that Jane and -Elizabeth Bennet stood for Cassandra and Jane Austen. But the author’s -nephew pronounced against this conjecture. It is said, indeed, that in -gentleness of disposition and tenderness of heart, Jane Austen bore -more resemblance to Jane than to Elizabeth Bennet. - -SARAH TYTLER: ‘Jane Austen and Her Works.’ Cassell & Company. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: An uncomplimentary account of Jane.] - -A friend of mine, who visits her now, says that she has stiffened into -the most perpendicular, precise, taciturn piece of “single blessedness” -that ever existed, and that, till ‘Pride and Prejudice’ showed what -a precious gem was hidden in that unbending case, she was no more -regarded in society than a poker or a fire-screen, or any other thin -upright piece of wood or iron that fills its corner in peace and -quietness. The case is very different now; she is still a poker, but -a poker of whom every one is afraid. It must be confessed that this -silent observation from such an observer is rather formidable.... After -all, I do not know that I can quite vouch for this account, though -the friend from whom I received it is truth itself; but her family -connections must render her disagreeable to Miss Austen, since she is -the sister-in-law of a gentleman who is at law with Miss A.’s brother -for the greater part of his fortune. - -MARY RUSSELL MITFORD: _Letter to Sir Wm. Elford_, 1815, in the former’s -‘Life,’ by Rev. A. G. L’Estrange. London: Richard Bentley, 1870. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Possible unpopularity.] - -It was the conviction of the Austen family that Jane’s occupation as a -novel writer continued long unsuspected by her ordinary acquaintances -and neighbors. That may have been, but we cannot imagine that her -close study of the characters around her, with her shrewd, humorous -conclusions--so extraordinary at the age at which she began to make -them--could have been either quite unperceived or wholly approved of -by her associates.... Jane Austen was the clear-sighted girl with -the sharp pen, if not the sharp tongue, who found in the Steventon -visiting-list materials for the _dramatis personæ_ of ‘Pride and -Prejudice.’ It would have been little short of a miracle, if she -could have conducted herself with such meekness, in her remote -rural world, or during the visits she paid to the great English -watering-place--while she was all the time laughing in her sleeve--so -as not to provoke any suspicion of her satire, or any resentment at -what might easily be held her presumption.... I have it on excellent -authority that, however thoroughly she was able to sympathize with the -witty repartees of two of her favorite heroines, in general company -she herself was shy and silent; even in more familiar circles she was -innocent of speaking sharp words, and was rather distinguished for -her tolerant indulgence to her fellow-creatures than for her hard -judgments on them. The tolerance belonged, by right, to her breadth of -comprehension, and to the humor which still more than wit characterized -her genius. The suggestion I make is that, seeing her neighbor’s -foibles, as she certainly did see them, she could not, however -generously she might use her superior knowledge, conceal it altogether -from her neighbors, and this was less likely to be the case when she -was a young girl with some share, presumably, of the thoughtlessness -and rashness of other girls, than when she was a mature woman, with -the wisdom and gentleness of experience. - -SARAH TYTLER: ‘Jane Austen and her Works.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Home at Chawton.] - -Chawton may be called the second, as well as the last home of Jane -Austen; for during the temporary residences of the party at Bath and -Southampton she was only a sojourner in a strange land; but here she -found a real home among her own people. It so happened that during her -residence at Chawton circumstances brought several of her brothers and -their families within easy distance of the house. Chawton must also -be considered the place most closely connected with her career as a -writer; for this is the place where, in the maturity of her mind, she -either wrote or re-arranged, and prepared for publication the books by -which she has become known to the world. This was the home where, after -a few years, while still in the prime of life, she began to droop and -wither away, and which she left only in the last stage of her illness, -yielding to the persuasion of friends hoping against hope. This house -stood in the village of Chawton, about a mile from Alton, on the right -hand side, just where the road to Winchester branches off from that to -Gosport. It was so close to the road that the front door opened at once -upon it; but behind it there was ample space for a garden and shrubbery -walks. - -REV. J. E. AUSTEN-LEIGH: ‘A Memoir of Jane Austen.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Anecdote illustrating her pride.] - -[Sidenote: Self centred character.] - -There is an anecdote of Jane Austen which coincides with her character, -and has been widely circulated, though it is not mentioned by Mr. -Austen Leigh. If it had a foundation in fact, it must have occurred -either during this visit to London [1815], or in the course of -that paid not long before. It is said that Miss Austen received an -invitation to a rout given by an aristocratic couple with whom she was -not previously acquainted. The reason assigned for the invitation was -that the author of ‘Pride and Prejudice’ might be introduced to the -author of ‘Corinne.’ Tradition has it that the English novelist refused -the invitation, saying that to no house where she was not asked as -Jane Austen would she go as the author of ‘Pride and Prejudice.’ This -anecdote is often quoted with marks of admiration for the author’s -independence. But even the most honest and honorable independence -has its becoming limits. That of Jane Austen, ultra self-sufficing, -fastidious, tinged with haughtiness, is just a trifle repellent out -of that small circle in which she was always at home. Whether or not -Mme. de Staël was consulted about the proposed meeting, she was not an -admirer of her sister author. The somewhat grandiloquent Frenchwoman -characterized the productions of that English genius--which were the -essence of common-sense--as “_vulgaires_,” precisely what they were -not.... Apparently, Jane Austen was not one whit more accessible to -English women of letters. There were many of deserved repute in or -near London, at the dates of these later visits. Not to speak of -Mrs. Inchbald, whom her correspondent, warm-hearted Maria Edgeworth, -rejoiced to come to England and meet personally, there were the two -Porters, Joanna Baillie--at the representation of whose fine play, -‘The Family Legend,’ Sir Walter Scott and Lord Byron had lately -“assisted”--and the veteran writer, Mme. D’Arblay, whose creations were -the object of Jane Austen’s early and late admiration. But we do not -hear of a single overture towards acquaintance between Miss Austen and -these ladies, though her works must have left as lively an impression -on some of their minds as theirs have done on hers. Men of letters were -no better known to her. - -SARAH TYTLER: ‘Jane Austen and her Works.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Fondness for children.] - -I cannot better describe the fascination which she exercised over -children than by quoting the words of two of her nieces. One says: “As -a very little girl I was always creeping up to Aunt Jane, and following -her whenever I could, in the house and out of it. I might not have -remembered this but for the recollection of my mother’s telling me -privately, that I must not be troublesome to my aunt. Her first charm -to children was great sweetness of manner. She seemed to love you, and -you loved her in return. This, as well as I can now recollect, was what -I felt in my early days, before I was old enough to be amused by her -cleverness. But soon came the delight of her playful talk. She could -make everything amusing to a child. Then, as I got older, when cousins -came to share the entertainment, she would tell us the most delightful -stories, chiefly of Fairyland, and her fairies had all characters of -their own. The tale was invented, I am sure, at the moment, and was -continued for two or three days, if occasion served.” Very similar is -the testimony of another niece. - -REV. J. E. AUSTEN-LEIGH: ‘A Memoir of Jane Austen.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Slight narrowness.] - -In her family and among her old friends Jane Austen was unsurpassed as -a tender sick-nurse, an untiring confidante, and a wise counsellor.... -During her whole life she remained to a great extent engrossed by the -interests of her family and their limited circle of old and intimate -friends. This was as it should be--so far, but there may be too much of -a good thing. The tendency of restricted family parties and sets--when -their members are above small bickerings and squabblings--when they are -really superior people in every sense, is to form ‘mutual admiration’ -societies, and neither does this more respectable and amiable weakness -act beneficially upon its victims.... Fondly loved and remembered as -Jane Austen has been, with much reason among her own people, in their -considerable ramifications, I cannot imagine her as greatly liked, or -even regarded with anything save some amount of prejudice, out of the -immediate circle of her friends, and in general society.... What I mean -is, that she allowed her interests and sympathies to become narrow, -even for her day, and that her tender charity not only began, but -ended, in a large measure, at home. - -SARAH TYTLER: ‘Jane Austen and Her Works.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Her letters.] - -The style is always clear, and generally animated, while a vein of -humor continually gleams through the whole; but the materials may be -thought inferior to the execution, for they treat only of the details -of domestic life. There is in them no notice of politics or public -events; scarcely any discussions on literature, or other subjects of -general interest. They may be said to resemble the nest which some -little bird builds of the materials nearest at hand, of the twigs -and mosses supplied by the tree in which it is placed; curiously -constructed out of the simplest matters.... Her letters scarcely ever -have the date of the year, and are never signed with her Christian name -at full length. - -Happy would the compositors for the press be if they had always so -legible a manuscript to work from. But the writing was not the only -part of her letters which showed superior handiwork. In those days -there was an art in folding and sealing. No adhesive envelopes made all -easy. Some people’s letters always looked loose and untidy; but her -paper was sure to take the right folds, and her sealing-wax to drop -into the right place. - -[Sidenote: A steady hand.] - -Jane Austen was successful in everything that she attempted with her -fingers. None of us could throw spilikins in so perfect a circle, or -take them off with so steady a hand. Her performances with cup and -ball were marvellous. The one used at Chawton was an easy one, and she -has been known to catch it on the point above an hundredth time in -succession, till her hand was weary. She sometimes found a resource in -this simple game, when unable, from weakness in her eyes, to read or -write long together.... Her needlework, both plain and ornamental, was -excellent, and might almost have put a sewing machine to shame. She -was considered especially great in satin-stitch. She spent much time -in these occupations, and some of her merriest talk was over clothes -which she and her companions were making, sometimes for themselves and -sometimes for the poor. There still remains a curious specimen of her -needlework made for a sister-in-law, my mother. In a very small bag is -deposited a little rolled-up housewife, furnished with minikin needles -and fine thread. In the housewife is a tiny pocket, and in the pocket -is enclosed a slip of paper, on which, written as with a crow quill, -are these lines: - -[Sidenote: Her needlework.] - - “This little bag, I hope, will prove - To be not vainly made, - For should you thread and needles want - It will afford you aid. - - “And as we are about to part, - ’Twill serve another end: - For, when you look upon this bag, - You’ll recollect your friend.” - -It is the kind of article that some benevolent fairy might be supposed -to give as a reward to a diligent little girl. The whole is of flowered -silk, and having been never used and carefully preserved, it is as -fresh and bright as when it was first made seventy years ago, and shows -that the same hand which painted so exquisitely with the pen could work -as delicately with the needle. - -[Sidenote: Her accomplishments.] - -Jane was fond of music, and had a sweet voice, both in singing and -in conversation; in her youth she had received some instruction on -the piano-forte; and at Chawton she practised daily, chiefly before -breakfast. I believe she did so partly that she might not disturb the -rest of the party who were less fond of music. In the evening she would -sometimes sing, to her own accompaniment, some simple old songs, the -words and airs of which, now never heard, still linger in my memory. - -She read French with facility, and knew something in Italian.... In -history she followed the old guides--Goldsmith, Hume and Robertson. -Critical enquiry into the usually received statements of the old -historians was scarcely begun.... Jane, when a girl, had strong -political opinions, especially about the affairs of the sixteenth and -seventeenth centuries. She was a vehement defender of Charles I. and -his grandmother Mary; but I think it was rather from an impulse of -feeling than from any enquiry into the evidence by which they must -be condemned or acquitted. As she grew up, the politics of the day -occupied very little of her attention, but she probably shared the -feeling of moderate Toryism which prevailed in her family. - -REV. J. E. AUSTEN-LEIGH: ‘A Memoir of Jane Austen.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: A modest opinion.] - -I think I may boast myself to be, with all possible vanity, the most -unlearned and uninformed female who ever dared to be an authoress. - -JANE AUSTEN: _Letter to Mr. J. S. Clarke_, quoted in ‘Memoir,’ by -Austen-Leigh. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Taste in reading.] - -She was well acquainted with the old periodicals, from the ‘Spectator’ -downward. Her knowledge of Richardson’s works was such as no one is -likely again to acquire, now that the multitude and the merits of our -light literature have called off the attention of readers from that -great master. Every circumstance narrated in Sir Charles Grandison, all -that ever was said or done in the cedar parlor, was familiar to her; -and the wedding-days of Lady L. and Lady G. were as well remembered as -if they had been living friends. Amongst her favorite writers, Johnson -in prose, Crabbe in verse, and Cowper in both, stood high. It is well -that the native good taste of herself and of those with whom she lived, -saved her from the snare into which a sister novelist had fallen, of -imitating the grandiloquent style of Johnson. She thoroughly enjoyed -Crabbe; perhaps on account of a certain resemblance to herself in -minute and highly finished detail; and would sometimes say, in jest, -that if she ever married at all, she could fancy being Mrs. Crabbe; -looking on the author quite as an abstract idea, and ignorant and -regardless what manner of man he might be. Scott’s poetry gave her -great pleasure; she did not live to make much acquaintance with his -novels. - -REV. J. E. AUSTEN-LEIGH: ‘A Memoir of Jane Austen.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Love of dancing.] - -There were twenty dances, and I danced them all, and without any -fatigue. I was glad to find myself capable of dancing so much, and with -so much satisfaction as I did; from my slender enjoyment of the Ashford -balls, I had not thought myself equal to it, but in cold weather and -with few couples I fancy I could just as well dance for a week together -as for half an hour. - -JANE AUSTEN: _Letter to her sister, Cassandra_, 1799, in ‘Letters of -Jane Austen,’ edited by Lord Brabourne. London: Richard Bentley & Son, -1884. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Manner of working.] - -Jane Austen was able to write in the midst of a busily-talking roomful -of people, her desk sometimes on a table which she shared with others, -sometimes at one side of the room, or even upon her knee when there -was no other place for it; and under what might seem to many others -impossible social conditions or distractions, she wrote ‘Sense and -Sensibility,’ ‘Northanger Abbey,’ and ‘Pride and Prejudice,’ all works -showing concentration and keen perception. A friend has told us of -her manner in writing--the earnest face bent above her page, the keen -bright eye suddenly lifted to flash out recognition of something which -was said in her presence, showing how entirely possible it was for her -to hear and heed as well. - -ANON.: in _Harper’s Bazar_. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: No “den” for writing.] - -The last five years of her life produced the same number of novels -with those which had been written in her early youth. How she was -able to effect all this is surprising, for she had no separate study -to retire to, and most of the work must have been done in the general -sitting-room, subject to all kinds of casual interruptions. She was -not, however, troubled with companions like her own Mrs. Allen, in -‘Northanger Abbey,’ whose “vacancy of mind and incapacity for thinking -were such that, as she never talked a great deal, so she could never -be entirely silent; and therefore, while she sat at work, if she lost -her needle, or broke her thread, or saw a speck of dirt on her gown, -she must observe it, whether there were any one at leisure to answer -her or not.” In that well-occupied female party there must have been -many precious hours of silence during which the pen was busy at the -little mahogany writing-desk, while Fanny Price, or Emma Woodhouse, or -Anne Elliott was growing into beauty and interest. I have no doubt that -I, and my sisters and cousins, in our visits to Chawton, frequently -disturbed this mystic process, without having any idea of the mischief -that we were doing; certainly we never should have guessed it by any -signs of impatience or irritability in the writer. - -REV. J. E. AUSTEN-LEIGH: ‘A Memoir of Jane Austen.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Prejudices of the time.] - -When I was young, it was not thought proper for young ladies to study -very conspicuously; and especially with pen in hand. Young ladies (at -least in provincial towns) were expected to sit down in the parlor to -sew--during which reading aloud was permitted--or to practise their -music; but so as to be fit to receive callers, without any signs of -blue-stockingism which could be reported abroad. Jane Austen herself, -the queen of novelists, the immortal creator of Anne Elliott, Mr. -Knightley, and a score or two more of unrivalled intimate friends of -the whole public, was compelled by the feelings of her family to cover -up her manuscripts with a large piece of muslin work, kept on the table -for the purpose, whenever any genteel people came in. - -HARRIET MARTINEAU: ‘Autobiography.’ Boston: Houghton, Mifflin & Co., -1877. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Affection for her own characters.] - -I want to tell you that I have got my own darling child [‘Pride and -Prejudice’] from London.... Miss B. dined with us on the very day of -the book’s coming, and in the evening we fairly set at it, and read -half the first volume to her, prefacing that, having intelligence from -Henry that such a work would soon appear, we had desired him to send -it whenever it came out, and I believe it passed with her unsuspected. -She was amused, poor soul! _That_ she could not help, you know, with -two such people to lead the way, but she really does seem to admire -Elizabeth. I must confess that I think her as delightful a creature as -ever appeared in print, and how I shall be able to tolerate those who -do not like _her_ at least I do not know. - -JANE AUSTEN: _Letter to her sister Cassandra_, quoted in ‘Memoir,’ by -Austen-Leigh. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Individuality of her characters.] - -She certainly took a kind of parental interest in the beings whom she -had created, and did not dismiss them from her thoughts when she had -finished her last chapter. When sending a copy of ‘Emma’ to a friend -whose daughter had been lately born, she wrote thus:--“I trust you -will be as glad to see my ‘Emma,’ as I shall be to see your Jemima.” -She was very fond of ‘Emma,’ but did not reckon on her being a general -favorite; for, when commencing that work, she said: “I am going to take -a heroine whom no one but myself will much like.” She would, if asked, -tell us many little particulars about the subsequent career of some of -her people. - -She did not copy individuals, but she invested her own creations -with individuality of character. Her relations never recognized any -individual in her characters; and I can call to mind several of her -acquaintance whose peculiarities were very tempting and easy to be -caricatured, of whom there are no traces in her pages. She, herself, -when questioned on the subject by a friend, expressed a dread of what -she called such an “invasion of social proprieties.” She said that she -thought it quite fair to note peculiarities and weaknesses, but that it -was her desire to create, not to reproduce; “besides,” she added, “I am -too proud of my gentlemen to admit that they were only Mr. A or Colonel -B.” - -REV. J. E. AUSTEN-LEIGH: ‘A Memoir of Jane Austen.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Hunting for portraits.] - -Henry [her brother], and I went to the exhibition in Spring Gardens. -It is not thought a good collection, but I was very well pleased, -particularly with a small portrait of Mrs. Bingley, excessively like -her. - -I went in hopes of seeing one of her sister, but there was no Mrs. -Darcy. Perhaps, however, I may find her in the great exhibition, which -we shall go to if we have time. - -Mrs. Bingley’s is exactly herself--size, shaped face, features, and -sweetness; there never was a greater likeness. She is dressed in a -white gown, with green ornaments, which convinces me of what I have -always supposed, that green was a favorite color with her. I dare say -Mrs. D. will be in yellow. - -_Monday evening._ We have been both to the exhibition and Sir J. -Reynolds’s and I am disappointed, for there was nothing like Mrs. D. at -either. I can only imagine that Mr. D. prizes any picture of her too -much to like it should be exposed to the public eye. I can imagine that -he would have that sort of feeling--that mixture of love, pride and -delicacy. - -JANE AUSTEN: _Letter to her sister Cassandra_, 1813, in ‘Letters of -Jane Austen.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Understood her limitations.] - -I could no more write a romance than an epic poem. I could not sit -seriously down to write a serious romance under any other motive than -to save my life; and if it was indispensable for me to keep it up and -never relax into laughing at myself or at other people, I am sure I -should be hung before I had finished the first chapter. No, I must keep -to my own style and go on in my own way; and though I may never succeed -again in that, I am convinced that I should totally fail in any other. - -JANE AUSTEN: _Letter to Mr. J. S. Clarke_, quoted in ‘Memoir,’ by -Austen-Leigh. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Her comparison for her work.] - -By the bye, my dear E., I am quite concerned for the loss your mother -mentions in her letter. Two chapters and a half to be missing is -monstrous! It is well that _I_ have not been at Steventon lately, and -therefore cannot be suspected of purloining them; two strong twigs and -a half towards a nest of my own would have been something. I do not -think, however, that any theft of that sort would be really very useful -to me. What should I do with your strong, manly, vigorous sketches, -full of variety and glow? How could I possibly join them on to the -little bit (two inches wide) of ivory on which I work with so fine a -brush, as produces little effect after much labor? - -JANE AUSTEN: _Letter to her Nephew_, quoted in ‘Memoir,’ by -Austen-Leigh. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: A “glorious novelist.”] - -Read ‘Emma,’--most admirable. The little complexities of the story -are beyond my comprehension, and wonderfully beautiful.... She was a -glorious novelist. - -HARRIET MARTINEAU: _Journal_, in ‘Memorials,’ by Maria Weston Chapman. -Boston: Houghton, Mifflin & Co., 1877. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: ‘Persuasion.’] - -I have read eleven times Miss Austen’s ‘Persuasion,’ unequalled in -interest, charm, and truth, to _my_ mind. - -HARRIET MARTINEAU: _Letter_, published in her biography, by Mrs. -Fenwick Miller. (Famous Women Series.) Boston: Roberts Bros., 1885. - - * * * * * - -Her exquisite story of ‘Persuasion’ absolutely haunted me. Whenever it -rained (and it did rain every day that I stayed in Bath, except one), -I thought of Anne Elliott meeting Captain Wentworth, when driven by -a shower to take refuge in a shoe-shop. Whenever I got out of breath -in climbing up-hill, I thought of that same charming Anne Elliott, -and of that ascent from the lower town to the upper, during which all -her tribulations ceased. And when at last, by dint of trotting up -one street and down another, I incurred the unromantic calamity of -a blister on the heel, even that grievance became classical by the -recollection of the similar catastrophe which, in consequence of her -peregrinations with the admiral, had befallen dear Mrs. Croft. I doubt -if any one, even Scott himself, have left such perfect impressions of -character and place as Jane Austen. - -MARY RUSSELL MITFORD: ‘Recollections of a Literary Life.’ New York: -Harper & Bros., 1852. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: One thing lacking.] - -She wants nothing but the _beau-idéal_ of the female character to be a -perfect novel writer.... By the way, how delightful is her ‘Emma’! the -best, I think, of all her charming works. - -MARY RUSSELL MITFORD: _Letters_, in her ‘Life,’ by Rev. A. G. -L’Estrange. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Three weighty opinions.] - -The delicate mirth, the gently hinted satire, the feminine, decorous -humor of Jane Austen, who, if not the greatest, is surely the most -faultless of female novelists.... My Uncle Southey and my father had an -equally high opinion of her merits, but Mr. Wordsworth used to say that -though he admitted that her novels were an admirable copy of life, he -could not be interested in productions of that kind; unless the truth -of nature were presented to him clarified, as it were, by the pervading -light of imagination, it had scarce any attractions in his eyes. - -SARA COLERIDGE: ‘Memoir and Letters,’ edited by her daughter. New York: -Harper & Bros., 1874. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Discrimination of character.] - -Shakespeare has had neither equal nor second. But among the writers -who, in the point which we have noticed, [the difficult art of -portraying characters in which no single feature is extravagantly -overcharged,] have approached nearest to the manner of the great -master, we have no hesitation in placing Jane Austen, a woman of whom -England is justly proud. She has given us a multitude of characters, -all, in a certain sense, commonplace, all such as we meet every day. -Yet they are all as perfectly discriminated from each other as if they -were the most eccentric of human beings. There are, for example, four -clergymen, none of whom we should be surprised to find in any parsonage -in the kingdom, Mr. Edward Ferrars, Mr. Henry Tilney, Mr. Edmund -Bertram, and Mr. Elton. They are all specimens of the upper part of -the middle class. They have all been liberally educated. They all lie -under the restraints of the same sacred profession. They are all young. -They are all in love. Not one of them has any hobby-horse, to use the -phrase of Sterne. Not one has a ruling passion, such as we read of in -Pope. Who would not have expected them to be insipid likenesses of each -other? No such thing. Harpagon is not more unlike to Jourdain, Joseph -Surface is not more unlike to Sir Lucius O’Trigger, than every one of -Miss Austen’s young divines to all his reverend brethren. And almost -all this is done by touches so delicate, that they elude analysis, that -they defy the powers of description, and that we know them to exist -only by the general effect to which they have contributed. - -LORD MACAULAY: _Essay on Madame D’Arblay, dinburgh Review_, January, -1843. ‘Critical and Historical Essays.’ New York: Albert Mason, 1875. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: “The exquisite touch.”] - -Read again, and for the third time at least, Miss Austen’s very finely -written novel of ‘Pride and Prejudice.’ That young lady had a talent -for describing the involvements, and feelings, and characters, of -ordinary life, which is to me the most wonderful I ever met with. -The Big Bow-Wow strain I can do myself like any now going; but the -exquisite touch, which renders ordinary commonplace things and -characters interesting from the truth of the description and the -sentiment, is denied to me. What a pity such a gifted creature died so -early! - -SIR WALTER SCOTT: _Diary_, March, 1826, in ‘Memoirs,’ by J. G. -Lockhart. Edinburgh: Adam & Charles Black, 1871. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Anecdote of ‘Mansfield Park.’] - -A pleasant anecdote, told to us on good authority in England, is -illustrative of Miss Austen’s power over various minds. A party of -distinguished literary men met at a country-seat; among them was -Macaulay, and we believe, Hallam; at all events, they were men of high -reputation. While discussing the merits of various authors, it was -proposed that each should write down the name of that work of fiction -which had given him the greatest pleasure. Much surprise and amusement -followed; for, on opening the slips of paper, _seven_ bore the name of -‘Mansfield Park.’ - -MRS. R. C. WATERSTON: ‘Jane Austen,’ in the _Atlantic Monthly_, -February, 1863. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: “A prose Shakespeare.”] - -We would say that Fielding and Miss Austen are the greatest -novelists in our language.... Miss Austen has been called a prose -Shakespeare,--and among others, by Macaulay. In spite of the sense -of incongruity which besets us in the words _prose_ Shakespeare, we -confess the greatness of Miss Austen, her marvellous dramatic power, -seems, more than anything in Scott, akin to Shakespeare. - -G. H. LEWES: ‘Recent Novels,’ in _Fraser’s Magazine_, December, 1847. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: - -Only shrewd and observant.] - -Why do you like Miss Austen so very much? I am puzzled on that point. -What induced you to say that you would rather have written ‘Pride and -Prejudice,’ or ‘Tom Jones,’ than any of the Waverley Novels? I had not -seen ‘Pride and Prejudice’ till I read that sentence of yours--and -then I got the book. And what did I find? An accurate daguerreotyped -portrait of a commonplace face; a carefully fenced, high-cultivated -garden, with neat borders and delicate flowers; but no glance of a -bright, vivid physiognomy, no open country, no fresh air, no blue -hill, no bonny beck. I should hardly like to live with her ladies and -gentlemen, in their elegant but confined houses.... George Sand is -sagacious and profound; Miss Austen is only shrewd and observant.... -You say I must familiarize my mind with the fact that “Miss Austen is -not a poetess, has no ‘sentiment,’ no eloquence, none of the ravishing -enthusiasm of poetry,”--and then you add, I _must_ learn to acknowledge -her as _one of the greatest artists, of the greatest painters of human -character_, and one of the writers with the nicest sense of means to -an end that ever lived. The last point only will I ever acknowledge. -Can there be a great artist without poetry? - -CHARLOTTE BRONTË: _Letter to G. H. Lewes_, 1848, in the former’s -‘Life,’ by E. C. Gaskell. New York: D. Appleton & Co., 1858. - - * * * * * - -It was in this year, I think (1865), that Mrs. Cameron wrote an undated -letter in which mention is made of Tennyson: - -[Sidenote: Tennyson’s opinion.] - -“Alfred talked very pleasantly that evening to Annie Thackeray and -L---- S----. He spoke of Jane Austen, as James Spedding does, as next -to Shakespeare! I can never imagine what they mean when they say such -things.... He said he believed every crime and every vice in the -world were connected with the passion for autographs and anecdotes -and records--that the desiring anecdotes and acquaintance with the -lives of great men was treating them like pigs to be ripped open for -the public; that he knew he himself should be ripped open like a pig; -that he thanked God Almighty with his whole heart and soul that he -knew nothing, and that the world knew nothing, of Shakespeare but -his writings; and that he thanked God Almighty that he knew nothing -of Jane Austen, and that there were no letters preserved either of -Shakespeare’s or of Jane Austen’s.”[8] - -HENRY TAYLOR: ‘Autobiography.’ London: Longmans, Green & Co., 1885. - - -FOOTNOTES: - -[8] This was several years before the publication of the “Austen-Leigh -Memoir.” - - - - - JOANNA BAILLIE. - - 1762-1851. - - - - - JOANNA BAILLIE. - - -Joanna Baillie, the daughter of a Scotch clergyman, was born at -Bothwell, in Lanarkshire, in 1762. When she was about six years old, -her father exchanged the Bothwell Kirk for that of Hamilton. At ten -she was sent to boarding-school in Glasgow; and, her father having -been appointed to a professorship in Glasgow University, when Joanna -was fifteen the family removed to that city. Two years later her -father died, and the Baillies left Glasgow for Long Calderwood, in the -Middle Ward of Lanarkshire. In 1784, Joanna’s brother, Dr. Matthew -Baillie, took his mother and sisters to live in London. In 1790, Joanna -published anonymously a volume of miscellaneous poems; and in 1798, -also anonymously, the first volume of _Plays on the Passions_. In 1802, -a second, and in 1812, a third volume appeared. Meanwhile Miss Baillie -had published, in 1804, a volume of _Miscellaneous Dramas_; and in -1810 a tragedy, _The Family Legend_, was brought out at the Edinburgh -Theatre. It was played fourteen nights; and in 1814 was again acted in -London. In 1826 appeared _The Martyr_, a tragedy, and in 1836 three -more volumes of plays. In 1831 Miss Baillie published _A View of the -General Tenor of the New Testament regarding the Nature and Dignity of -Jesus Christ_. She was also the author of _Metrical Legends of Exalted -Characters_. - -In 1801, Joanna, her mother, and her sister, Agnes, had established -themselves at Hampstead, where Mrs. Baillie had died in 1806. The -sisters more than once revisited Scotland. Joanna “passed away without -suffering” on the 23rd of February, 1851. - -Her firm adherence to a mistaken theory of dramatic writing--the -subordination of all else to the development of a master passion--has -prevented her plays from holding the stage. Her finely humorous -Scotch songs are perfection in their way. Many of them were suggested -by earlier songs, and written to the old airs; and the manner in -which she has dealt with this rude material is an indication of -those characteristics which led Lucy Aikin to speak of the “innocent -and maiden grace” which “still hovered over her to the end.” -Every contemporary mentions Joanna Baillie with respect, and with -affectionate admiration of her graceful old age. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Parentage.] - -Both father and mother were rarely high-principled; and, in spite of -his warm affections and her latent faculties of humor and pathos, they -were alike strongly tinged with the strict, somewhat stern, reserve of -the old Scotch character. Agnes Baillie (Joanna’s sister) told Lucy -Aikin that, though her father had sucked the poison from a bite which -she had received from a dog believed to be mad, he had never kissed her -in his life. Joanna herself spoke to the same friend of her unsatisfied -yearning for caresses when a child, and of her mother’s simply chiding -her when she ventured to clasp that mother’s knee; “but,” Joanna -added, with perfect comprehension, “I know she liked it.” - -[Sidenote: Native place.] - -The village of Bothwell, where Dr. James Baillie’s kirk and manse -were situated, possessed many advantages. It was where “Clyde’s banks -are bonnie,” in the fruit lands of the Middle Ward of Lanarkshire, -and where there is a strath of waving verdure at all seasons. In May -and June it is one great white and pink flush of orchard blossoms. In -August and September boughs bend richly under purple plums, scarlet -streaked apples, and mottled olive and russet pears. Close by are -the fragments of the great castle-keep of the Douglasses, one of -the most stately ruins of Scotland.... Other legends, besides those -of well-authenticated history, lurked in each drearier spot of that -country. Vague tales of the foul fiend himself started up in the -desolation of a peat bog, or the horror of a gruesome cavern. There -were legends of gray “bogles” and sheeted ghosts.... These were the -common chronicles and fireside lore of the country people of the day. -As a stirring, inquisitive child, Joanna Baillie had a good source from -which she could derive such knowledge, and form a familiar acquaintance -betimes with many-sided humanity. The kitchen of the country manse -was then the free resort and resting-place of privileged beggars, old -soldiers and sailors, and humble travellers of every description. The -settle in the chimney, and the “bink” in the “hallan,” were rarely -empty, as backwards and forwards trotted the little maid herself, -making believe to dispense the doles of bannocks and cheese, and -the cogs of brose and kale. All the while she was gathering scraps -of racy conversation into wide-open little pitchers of ears, and -photographing still more accurately with clear fresh mirrors of eyes -the quaintly-expressive faces and figures. - -[Sidenote: “Miss Jack.”] - -She was not more than six years old when her father exchanged the -kirk of Bothwell for that of Hamilton, likewise in the fruit lands. -But Hamilton was a town of six thousand inhabitants, clustering round -the ducal palace and park of the Hamiltons. Here Joanna found herself -one of a community which numbered scores of young people of her own -age and degree. So well did she like it, that she was the leader in -every romping game and frolic--an adept at out-of-door sports, whether -swinging, skipping or climbing. She was celebrated for the fearlessness -with which she ran along the parapets of bridges and on the tops of -walls, and scampered heedlessly on any pony she could find. She had the -misfortune to cause the fracture of her brother’s arm by inducing him -to ride double with her. The horse, not approving of a pair of riders, -threw the one who had the worse seat. “Look at Miss Jack!” a farmer -once commented, ... “she sits her horse as if it was a bit of herself.” - -In advanced life she loved to dwell on her early unchecked rambles -over heaths compared to which Hampstead was a common; on her endless -“paidling” in innumerable burns, tributaries of the Clyde. She was -wont to regret wistfully that she could no longer “pad” barefooted on -the grass or “plowter” in the water. And she would eagerly recommend -to dainty and horrified English matrons the entire wholesomeness and -happiness of letting their petted children run bare-footed in summer. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Education.] - -Whatever more valuable acquisitions Joanna made in these young days -she was singularly deficient in learning, as the term is generally -understood. “At nine I could not read plainly,” Joanna Baillie told -Lucy Aikin. “At nine, Joanna?” her sister Agnes called her back. “You -could not read well at eleven.”... The worthy minister took the stout -little ignoramus in hand along with his breakfast. She spoilt the -flavor of his trout and cake and black pudding by crying throughout -each lesson. It was thought that a change was called for in order to -conquer Joanna’s repugnance to sedentary studies, and her passion -for open-air pursuits and boyish pranks. At ten years of age she was -accordingly sent, along with her elder sister, to Miss Macdonald’s -boarding-school, in the heart of the city of Glasgow.... Joanna learned -to read perfectly at the Glasgow boarding-school, as doubtless she also -learned more or less serviceable writing and arithmetic, and correct or -incorrect notions in geography and history. If she did not learn much -else beyond singing a little to the guitar, and making a few promising -attempts at drawing and dancing, still the school did its part. The -study for which she showed a particular inclination was mathematics--a -fact which is characteristic of the clear-headed girl. Of her own free -will and entirely unassisted, she mastered a considerable portion of -Euclid. - -[Sidenote: Private theatricals.] - -Pricked on by the demands of a large girl-audience at school, Joanna’s -hereditary gift of story-telling, by which she could excite laughter -or tears, grew and grew until at length she found herself the chief -figure in something like private theatricals. In connection with -these chamber-dramas, Joanna was play-writer, playwright, player, -stage-dresser, and scene-shifter in one. In this foreshadowing of -her future career, she is said to have strongly displayed an eye for -effect, which failed her in her great efforts of later life.... Let -us conjure up, if we can, the old Glasgow boarding-school, with its -small rooms and dim tallow candles. There stand the host of eager girls -in their short-waisted, short-sleeved gowns and mittens, absorbed -in the common levy of buckles, brooches, necklaces, plaids, scarfs, -breast-knots, and Highland bonnets. The acknowledged mistress of -the ceremonies and games, and the “first lady” of the troop, is the -undersized girl with marked features and gray eyes.... Down on the -scene Miss Macdonald and her governess look for a moment, from the -elevation of their huge toupees and barricades of ruffles. They dismiss -authoritatively the excited rabble, and retire to their cosy supper -where they admit in confidence to each other the mother-wit of Miss -Jack Baillie, who has yet got a bad memory for facts of consequence -outside of her “fule” stories, and her “droll swatches” of this man and -that woman. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Joanna at 21.] - -[Sidenote: Appearance.] - -[Sidenote: Character.] - -Joanna appeared to her companions a capable young woman with much -decision of character, like her mother. She was shy amongst strangers, -but sufficiently frank to her friends; and in the midst of her -seriousness she was the merriest soul when the fit took her. She had -quietly written some clever Scotch songs, most of them adaptations from -old ditties. These were already sung with glee around many a rustic -hearth and at many a homely supper table.... Joanna was not handsome. -She was below the middle height, and had the large, statuesque features -which suit better with a stately figure. Years lent these features -dignity rather than robbed them of grace. There is no word of her -youthful bloom. She wore her hair for many years simply divided and -braided across her forehead; but the hair must have grown low on it -from the first, and, whether in a crop, or in braids, must have nearly -concealed the expansive brow, which thus lent no relief to the dark -gauntness of the face. The brows were firmly arched. Her mouth was -wide, and expressed benevolence. Her chin was clearly moulded, and -slightly projecting. She was the most sensible of wilful geniuses; -the most retiring of “wise” women; the most maidenly of experienced -elderly ladies; the most tenderly attached of daughters and sisters; -one of the meekest and most modest of Christians. Joanna Baillie’s -was a noble soul. She had a great man’s grand guilelessness, rather -than a woman’s minute and subtle powers of sympathy; a man’s shy but -unstinted kindness and forbearance, rather than a woman’s eager but -measured cordiality and softness; a man’s modesty in full combination -with a woman’s delicacy; and, as if to prove her sex beyond mistake, -she had after all more than the usual share of a woman’s pugnacity and -headstrongness, when the fit was upon her. - -SARAH TYTLER and J. L. WATSON: ‘Songstresses of Scotland.’ London: -Strahan & Co., 1871. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: An innocent face.] - -Mrs. Barbauld mentions Miss Baillie in her letter to Mrs. Kenrick, and -tells her how much amazed she was at finding the author [of ‘Plays on -the Passions’] was not one of the already celebrated writers to whom it -had been attributed, but “a young lady of Hampstead whom she visited, -and who came to Mr. Barbauld’s meeting all the while with as innocent a -face as if she had never written a line.” - -GRACE A. ELLIS (OLIVER): ‘Memoir of Mrs. Barbauld.’ Boston: J. R. -Osgood & Co., 1874. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: A Sunday morning in 1801.] - -I was taken by Dr. and Mrs. Baillie to Hampstead to see the gifted -Joanna. I found her on a Sunday morning reading the Bible to her -mother, a very aged lady, who was quite blind. Joanna’s manners and -accent were very Scottish, very kind, simple, and unaffected, but less -frank than those of her elder sister. She seemed almost studious to -avoid literary conversation, but spoke with much interest of old Scotch -friends, and of her early days in Scotland. - -MRS. FLETCHER: ‘Autobiography.’ Boston: Roberts Bros., 1876. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: The ‘Family Legend’ in Edinburgh.] - -The first new play produced by Henry Siddons [at the Edinburgh Theatre] -was the ‘Family Legend’ of Joanna Baillie. This was, I believe, the -first of her dramas that ever underwent the test of representation -in her native kingdom; and Scott appears to have exerted himself most -indefatigably in its behalf. He was consulted about all the _minutiæ_ -of costume, attended every rehearsal, and supplied the prologue. The -play was better received than any other which the gifted authoress has -since subjected to the same experiment; and how ardently Scott enjoyed -its success will appear from a few specimens of the many letters which -he addressed to his friend on the occasion. - -The first of these letters is dated Edinburgh, October 27, 1809: - -“On receiving your long kind letter yesterday, I sought out Siddons, -who was equally surprised and delighted at your liberal arrangement -about the ‘Lady of the Rock.’ I will put all the names to rights, and -retain enough of locality and personality to please the antiquary, -without the least risk of bringing the clan Gillian about our ears. I -went through the theatre, which is the most complete little thing of -the kind I ever saw, elegantly fitted up, and large enough for every -purpose.... With regard to the equipment of the ‘Family Legend,’ I have -been much diverted at a discovery which I have made. I had occasion -to visit our Lord Provost (by profession a stocking-weaver), and was -surprised to find the worthy magistrate filled with a new-born zeal -for the drama. He spoke of Mr. Siddons’ merits with enthusiasm, and of -Miss Baillie’s powers almost with tears of rapture. Being a curious -investigator of cause and effect, I never rested until I found out that -this theatric rage which had seized his lordship of a sudden, was -owing to a large order for hose, pantaloons, and plaids for equipping -the rival clans of Campbell and Maclean, and which Siddons was sensible -enough to send to the warehouse of our excellent provost.” - -Three months later he thus communicates the result of the experiment: - -[Sidenote: Scott’s account of its success.] - -“You have only to imagine all that you could wish to give success to a -play, and your conceptions will still fall short of the complete and -decided triumph of the ‘Family Legend.’ The house was crowded to a most -extraordinary degree; many people had come from your native capital -of the west; everything that pretended to distinction, whether from -rank or literature, was in the boxes, and in the pit such an aggregate -mass of humanity as I have seldom, if ever, witnessed in the same -space.... I sat the whole time shaking for fear a scene-shifter, or a -carpenter, or some of the subaltern actors, should make some blunder -and interrupt the feeling of deep and general interest. The scene on -the rock struck the utmost possible effect into the audience, and you -heard nothing but sobs on all sides. The banquet-scene was equally -impressive, and so was the combat. Of the greater scenes, that between -Lorn and Helen in the castle of Maclean, that between Helen and her -lover, and the examination of Maclean himself in Argyle’s castle, were -applauded to the very echo. Siddons announced the play ‘for the rest of -the week,’ which was received not only with a thunder of applause, but -with cheering and throwing up of hats and handkerchiefs. Mrs. Siddons -supported her part incomparably.... The scenery was very good, and -the rock, without the appearance of pantomime, was so contrived as to -place Mrs. Siddons in a very precarious situation to all appearance. -The dresses were more tawdry than I should have judged proper, but -expensive and showy. I got my brother John’s Highland recruiting party -to reinforce the garrison of Inverary, and as they mustered beneath -the porch of the castle, and seemed to fill the courtyard behind, the -combat scene had really the appearance of reality.... My kind respects -attend Miss Agnes Baillie, and believe me ever your obliged and -faithful servant, - - WALTER SCOTT.” - -J. G. LOCKHART: ‘The Life of Sir Walter Scott.’ Edinburgh: Adam & -Charles Black, 1871. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Opinion of ‘Orra.’] - -It is too little to say that I am enchanted with the third volume [of -‘Plays on the Passions’], especially with the two first plays, which -in every point not only sustain, but even exalt your reputation as -a dramatist. [Miss Baillie had written him that this was to be her -last publication, and that she was “getting her knitting-needles in -order”----meaning to begin her new course of industry by making him a -purse.] The whole character of ‘Orra’ is exquisitely supported as well -as imagined, and the language distinguished by a rich variety of fancy, -which I know no instance of excepting in Shakespeare. After I had read -‘Orra’ twice to myself, Terry [the comedian, Scott’s warm friend and -admirer] read it over to us a third time, aloud, and I have seldom -seen a little circle so much affected as during the whole fifth act. I -think it would act charmingly.... Yet I have a great quarrel with this -beautiful drama, for you must know that you have utterly destroyed a -song of mine, precisely in the turn of your outlaw’s ditty, and sung by -persons in somewhat the same situation.... I took out my unfortunate -manuscript to look at it, but alas! it was the encounter of the iron -and the earthen pitchers in the fable. I was clearly sunk, and the -potsherds not worth gathering up. But only conceive that the chorus -should have run thus _verbatim_---- - - “’Tis mirk midnight with peaceful men, - With us ’tis dawn of day”---- - -and again---- - - “Then boot and saddle, comrades boon, - Nor wait the dawn of day.” - -[Note by Lockhart: These lines were accordingly struck out of the -outlaw’s song in ‘Rokeby.’ The verses of ‘Orra,’ to which Scott -alludes, are no doubt the following: - - “The wild fire dances on the fen, - The red star sheds its ray, - Up rouse ye then, my merry men, - It is our opening day.”] - -To return, I really think ‘Fear’ the most dramatic passion you have -hitherto touched, because capable of being drawn to the most extreme -paroxysm on the stage. In ‘Orra’ you have all gradations, from a -timidity excited by a strong and irritable imagination, to the -extremity which altogether unhinges the understanding. - -SIR WALTER SCOTT: _Letter to Joanna Baillie_, in the former’s ‘Life,’ -by J. G. Lockhart. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Joanna’s personal appearance.] - -She is small in figure, and her gait is mean and shuffling, but her -manners are those of a well-bred woman. She has none of the unpleasant -airs too common to literary ladies. Her conversation is sensible. She -possesses apparently considerable information, is prompt without being -forward, and has a fixed judgment of her own, without any disposition -to force it on others. Wordsworth said of her with warmth: “If I had to -present any one to a foreigner as a model of an English gentlewoman, it -would be Joanna Baillie.” - -HENRY CRABB ROBINSON: _Diary_, 1812, in ‘Diary, Reminiscences and -Correspondence.’ Boston: J. R. Osgood & Co., 1871. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Several years later.] - -I remember her as singularly impressive in look and manner, with the -“queenly” air we associate with ideas of high birth and lofty rank. Her -face was long, narrow, dark, and solemn, and her speech deliberate and -considerate, the very antipodes of “chatter.” Tall in person,[9] and -habited according to the mode of an olden time, her picture, as it is -now present to me, is that of a very venerable dame, dressed in coif -and kirtle, stepping out, as it were, from a frame in which she had -been placed by the painter Vandyke. - -S. C. HALL: ‘A Book of Memories of Great Men and Women of the Age.’ -London: Virtue & Co., 1871. - - * * * * * - -She was past fifty when I first saw her, and appeared like an old lady -to me, then in my teens. She dressed like an aged person, and with -scrupulous neatness. She lived with a sister who looked older still, -because she had not the vivacity of Joanna, and was only distinguished -for the amiability with which she bore being outshone by her more -gifted relative. - -[Sidenote: “Mrs.” Baillie.] - -Miss Baillie, according to the English custom, took the title of -Mrs. Joanna Baillie, on passing her fiftieth birthday. She gave the -prettiest and the pleasantest dinners, and presided at them with -peculiar grace and tact, always attentive to the wants of her guests, -and yet keeping up a lively conversation the while. She took such -pleasure in writing poetry, and especially in her ‘Plays on the -Passions,’ that she said, “If no one ever read them, I should find my -happiness in writing them.” - -Though she was young when she left her native land, she never lost -her Scotch accent. I thought it made her conversation only the more -piquant. She was full of anecdotes and curious facts about remarkable -people. I only recollect her telling one of Lord Byron being obliged, -by politeness, to escort her and her sister to the opera, and her -perceiving that he was provoked beyond measure at being there with -them, and that he made faces as he sat behind them. - -ELIZA FARRAR: ‘Recollections of Seventy Years.’ Boston: Ticknor and -Fields, 1866. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Old age.] - -Of Joanna Baillie I saw much both as a friend and patient. Her gentle -simplicity, with a Scotch tinge coloring it to the end of life, won -the admiration even of those who knew nothing of her power of dramatic -poetry. It was pleasant to visit her in the quiet house at Hampstead, -in which she lived with her sister Agnes. She reached, I think, her -ninety-second year.[10] Agnes lived to a hundred. - -SIR HENRY HOLLAND: ‘Recollections of Past Life.’ New York: D. Appleton -& Co., 1872. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: “Dry and Scotchy.”] - -Our great poetess, or rather the sensible, amiable old lady that -_was_ a great poetess thirty years ago, is still in full preservation -as to health. Never did the flame of genius more thoroughly expire -than in her case.... She is, as Mr. Wordsworth observes, when quoting -her non-feeling for Lycidas, “dry and Scotchy”; learning she never -possessed, and some of her poetry, which I think was far above that of -any other woman, is the worse for a few specks of bad English; then her -criticisms are so surprisingly narrow and jejune, and show so slight an -acquaintance with fine literature in general. - -[Sidenote: A gracious winter.] - -Yet if the authoress of ‘Plays on the Passions’ does not now write or -talk like a poetess, she _looks_ like one, and _is_ a piece of poetry -in herself. Never was old age more lovely and interesting; the face, -the dress, the quiet, subdued motions, the silver hair, the calm -_in-looking_ eye, the pale, yet not unhealthy skin, all are in harmony; -this is winter with its own peculiar loveliness of snows and paler -sunshine. - -SARA COLERIDGE: _Letter to Miss E. Trevenen_, 1833, in the former’s -‘Memoir and Letters,’ edited by her daughter. New York: Harper & Bros., -1874. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Meeting with Harriet Martineau.] - -She had enjoyed a fame almost without parallel, and had outlived -it. She had been told every day for years, through every possible -channel, that she was second only to Shakespeare--if second; and then -she had seen her works drop out of notice so that, of the generation -who grew up before her eyes, not one in a thousand had read a line -of her plays--yet was her serenity never disturbed, nor her merry -humor in the least dimmed. I have never lost the impression of the -trying circumstances of my first interview with her, nor of the grace, -simplicity and sweetness with which she bore them. She was old; and she -declined dinner-parties; but she wished to meet me, ... and therefore -she came to Miss Berry’s to tea, one day when I was dining there. Miss -Berry, her contemporary, put her feelings, it seemed to me, to a most -unwarrantable trial, by describing to me, as we three sat together, -the celebrity of the ‘Plays on the Passions’ in their day. She told -me how she found on her table, on her return from a ball, a volume of -plays; and how she kneeled on a chair to look at it, and how she read -on till the servant opened the shutters, and let in the daylight of a -winter morning. She told me how all the world raved about the plays; -and she held on so long that I was in pain for the noble creature to -whom it must have been irksome on the one hand to hear her own praises -and fame so dwelt upon, and, on the other, to feel that we all knew how -long that had been quite over. But, when I looked up at her sweet face, -with its composed smile amidst the becoming mob-cap, I saw that she was -above pain of either kind. - -HARRIET MARTINEAU: ‘Autobiography.’ Boston: Houghton, Mifflin & Co., -1877. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: The home at Hampstead.] - -We drove out, by appointment, to Mrs. Joanna Baillie’s, at Hampstead, -took our lunch with her, and passed the time at her house till four -o’clock. We found her living in a small and most comfortable, nice, -unpretending house, where she has dwelt for above thirty years. She is -now above seventy, and, dressed with an exact and beautiful propriety, -received us most gently and kindly. Her accent is still Scotch; her -manner strongly marked with that peculiar modesty which you sometimes -see united to the venerableness of age, and which is then so very -winning; and her conversation, always quiet and never reminding -you of her own claims as an author, is so full of good sense, with -occasionally striking and decisive remarks, and occasionally a little -touch of humor, that I do not know when I have been more pleased and -gratified than I was by this visit. - -She lives exactly as an English gentlewoman of her age and character -should live, and everything about her was in good taste and appropriate -to her position, even down to the delicious little table she had spread -for us in her quiet parlor. - -GEORGE TICKNOR: _Diary_, 1835, in ‘Life, Letters, and Journals.’ -Boston: J. R. Osgood & Co., 1876. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Serene old age.] - -A sweeter picture of old age was never seen. Her figure was small, -light, and active; her countenance, in its expression of sincerity, -harmonized wonderfully with her gay conversation and her cheerful -voice. Her eyes were beautiful, dark, bright, and penetrating, with -the full, innocent gaze of childhood. Her face was altogether comely, -and her dress did justice to it. She wore her own silvery hair and a -mob-cap, with its delicate lace border fitting close round her face. -She was well-dressed in handsome dark silks, and her lace caps and -collars looked always new. No Quaker ever was neater, while she kept up -with the times in her dress as in her habit of mind, as far as became -her years. In her whole appearance there was always something for -even the passing stranger to admire, and never anything for the most -familiar friend to wish otherwise. - -HARRIET MARTINEAU: Quoted in ‘Songstresses of Scotland.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Taste in dress.] - -She wore a delicate lavender satin bonnet; and Mrs. J---- says she is -fond of dress, and knows what every one has on. Her taste is certainly -exquisite in dress. I more than ever admired the harmony of expression -and tint, the silver hair and silvery gray eye, the pale skin, and -the look which speaks of a mind that has had much communing with -high imagination, though such intercourse is only perceptible now by -the absence of everything which that lofty spirit would not set his -seal upon.... Age has slackened the active part of genius, and yet -is in some sort a substitute for it. There is a declining of mental -exercitation. She has had enough of that; and now for a calm decline, -and thoughts of Heaven. - -SARA COLERIDGE: _Letter to her husband_, 1834, in, ‘Memoir and -Letters,’ edited by her daughter. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Enthusiasm for Scott.] - -She talked of Scott with a tender enthusiasm that was contagious, and -of Lockhart with a kindness that is uncommon when coupled with his -name, and which seemed only characteristic of her benevolence. It is -very rare that old age, or, indeed, any age, is found so winning and -agreeable. I do not wonder that Scott in his letters treats her with -more deference, and writes to her with more care and beauty, than to -any other of his correspondents. - -GEORGE TICKNOR: _Diary_, 1838, in ‘Life, Letters and Journals.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Disposition of her earnings.] - -Unlike Zaccheus the publican in every other respect, she followed his -rule with respect to the earnings of her pen--half of her goods she -gave to feed the poor. This arrangement was made and adhered to, when -the Baillies’ income, never a very large one, was at its minimum; and -it was not departed from when increased funds brought in their train -increased expenditures and a host of additional wants. - -SARAH TYTLER AND J. L. WATSON: ‘Songstresses of Scotland.’ - - -FOOTNOTES: - -[9] Mr. Hall’s testimony on this point differs from that of all others -who have described Miss Baillie. - -[10] An error. Miss Baillie died at eighty-nine. - - - - - MARGUERITE, LADY BLESSINGTON. - - 1789-1849. - - - - - MARGUERITE, LADY BLESSINGTON. - - -Marguerite, Lady Blessington, flitted across the field of English -literature like a blue butterfly, and left no trace behind. She claims -a place among our literary women, not by virtue of her many works, -which are now forgotten, but rather as an influence among literary men; -as the woman in whose sunny companionship Byron basked, and who had -Landor and Procter to write her epitaphs. - -She was born at Knockbrit, Tipperary, on the 1st of September, 1789. -(The year, however, has been variously stated as 1787 and 1790.) She -was the daughter of Edmund Power, a country gentleman and magistrate, -a man of violent temper and without principle. In 1796 or ’97 the -Powers removed to Clonmel. In 1804, when she was under fifteen years -of age, Marguerite was forced by her father into a marriage with the -vicious and half-insane Captain Maurice Farmer. Within a year they -agreed to separate. Mrs. Farmer is spoken of as residing in Cahir, -Tipperary, in 1807, and in Dublin in 1809. And now occurs that hiatus -in the account of her life which has never been satisfactorily filled, -and the existence of which the English women of her day refused to -overlook. In 1816 she was established in Manchester Square, London; -and in 1818, Captain Farmer having died the previous year, she married -the Earl of Blessington. Her fashionable life, foreign travels, and -literary career now began. In 1823, while at Genoa with her husband, -she made the acquaintance of Lord Byron. In 1829 Lord Blessington died -in the Hotel Ney, Paris, which had been sumptuously fitted up as his -residence. Lady Blessington returned to London in 1830. She lived in -Seamore Place, May Fair, until 1836, when she removed to Gore House, -Kensington Gore. The extravagant splendor of her style of living, and -the charm of her evenings, have often been described. The £2,000 a -year which Lord Blessington had left her, even with the addition of -the income received from her writings, was not sufficient to meet the -expenses which long habit had rendered almost necessary to her; and -in the spring of 1849 “the long-menaced break-up of the establishment -at Gore House took place.” Lady Blessington left London, accompanied -by her nieces, for Paris, where, on the 4th of June, 1849, she died -very suddenly of “an apoplectic malady, complicated with disease of -the heart.” Count D’Orsay, her husband’s son-in-law and her intimate -friend, survived her but a few years, and was buried beside her at -Chambourcy, where he had caused a huge monument to be erected to her -memory. - -The following are the works of Lady Blessington: - -_The Magic Lantern; or, Sketches of Scenes in the Metropolis_, 1822. - -_Sketches and Fragments_, 1822. - -_Conversations with Lord Byron_, 1832. These articles first appeared in -Colburn’s _New Monthly Magazine_. - -_Grace Cassidy; or, the Repealers_, 1833. - -_Meredyth_, 1833. - -_The Follies of Fashion_, 1835. - -_The Two Friends_, 1835. - -_The Victims of Society_, 1837. - -_The Confessions of an Elderly Lady_, 1838. - -_The Governess_, 1839. - -_Desultory Thoughts and Reflections_, 1839. - -_The Idler in Italy_, 1839. - -_The Idler in France_, 1841. - -_The Lottery of Life_, 1842. - -_Strathern; or, Life at Home and Abroad_, 1845. - -_The Memoirs of a Femme de Chambre_, 1846. - -_Lionel Deerhurst_, 1846. - -_Marmaduke Herbert_, 1847. - -_Country Quarters._ This was first published in a London Sunday paper, -1848. After Lady Blessington’s death it was edited by her niece, Miss -Power, and published separately. - -She also wrote _A Tour Through the Netherlands to Paris_, _Confessions -of an Elderly Gentleman_, _The Belle of a Season_, and edited for -several years Heath’s ‘Book of Beauty,’ ‘The Keepsake,’ and another -annual entitled, ‘Gems of Beauty.’ Miss Power says in her memoir, “I -believe that for some years she made, on an average, somewhere about a -thousand a year; some years a good deal above that sum.” Jerdan states -that he has known her to enjoy from her pen an amount between £2,000 -and £3,000 per annum; and adds that her title and her social tact had -considerable influence in commanding high prices. - -Lady Blessington’s strange life may be said to have been written in -three chapters: the first as dark and terrible as any in ‘Wuthering -Heights’; the second as gorgeous as any in the novels of D’Israeli; -and the last like a handful of leaves torn from ‘Vanity Fair.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Sickly childhood.] - -Beauty, the heritage of the family, was, in her early youth, denied to -Marguerite: her eldest brother and sister were singularly handsome and -healthy children, while she, pale, weakly, and ailing, was for years -regarded as little likely ever to grow to womanhood; the precocity -of her intellect, the keenness of her perceptions, and her extreme -sensitiveness, all of which are so often regarded, more especially -among the Irish, as the precursive symptoms of an early death, -confirmed this belief, and the poor, pale, reflective child was long -looked upon as doomed to a premature grave. - -The atmosphere in which she lived was but little congenial to such a -nature. Her father, a man of violent temper, and little given to study -the characters of his children, intimidated and shook the delicate -nerves of the sickly child, though there were moments--rare ones, it -is true--when the sparkles of her early genius for an instant dazzled -and gratified him. Her mother, though she failed not to bestow the -tenderest maternal care on the health of the little sufferer, was -not capable of appreciating her fine and subtile qualities, and her -brothers and sisters, fond as they were of her, were not, in their high -health and boisterous gayety, companions suited to such a child. - -At a very early age, the powers of her imagination had already begun -to develop themselves. She would entertain her brothers and sisters -for hours with tales invented as she proceeded; and at last, so -remarkable did this talent become, that her parents, astonished at the -interest and coherence of her narrations, constantly called upon her -to _improviser_ for the entertainment of their friends and neighbors, a -task always easy to her fertile brain; and, in a short time, the little -neglected child became the wonder of the neighborhood. - -MISS POWER: ‘A Memoir of Lady Blessington,’ quoted by R. R. Madden in -‘The Literary Life and Correspondence of the Countess of Blessington.’ -New York: Harper & Bros., 1855. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Unfortunate early marriage.] - -Her father was in a ruined position at the time Lady Blessington was -brought home from school, a mere child, and treated as such. Among his -military friends, she then saw a Captain Farmer for the first time; he -appeared on very intimate terms with her father, but when she first -met him, her father did not introduce her to him; in fact, she was -looked upon then as a mere school-girl, whom it was not necessary to -introduce to any stranger. In a day or two her father told her she was -not to return to school; he had decided that she was to marry Captain -Farmer. This intelligence astonished her; she burst out crying, and a -scene ensued in which his menaces and her protestations against his -determination terminated violently. Her mother unfortunately sided with -her father, and eventually, by caressing entreaties and representations -of the advantages her father looked forward to from this match with -a man of Captain Farmer’s affluence, she was persuaded to sacrifice -herself, and to marry a man for whom she felt the utmost repugnance. -She had not been long under her husband’s roof before it became evident -to her that her husband was subject to fits of insanity, and his own -relatives informed her that her father had been acquainted by them that -Captain Farmer had been insane; but this information had been concealed -from her by her father. She lived with him about three months, and -during that time he frequently treated her with personal violence; -... he used to lock her up whenever he went abroad, and often has -left her without food till she felt almost famished. He was ordered -to join his regiment, which was encamped at the Curragh of Kildare. -Lady Blessington refused to accompany him there, and was permitted -to remove to her father’s house, to remain there during his absence. -Captain Farmer joined his regiment, and had not been many days with it, -when, in a quarrel with his colonel, he drew his sword on the former, -and the result of this insane act (for such it was allowed to be) was, -that he was obliged to quit the service, being permitted to sell his -commission. The friends of Captain Farmer now prevailed on him to go -to India; she, however, refused to go with him, and remained at her -father’s. - -Such is the account given to me by Lady Blessington, and for the -accuracy of the above report of it I can vouch. - -R. R. MADDEN: ‘Literary Life and Correspondence of the Countess of -Blessington.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Portrait by Sir. T. Lawrence.] - -I first saw Lady Blessington under circumstances sufficiently -characteristic of her extraordinary personal beauty at the period in -question, to excuse my referring to them somewhat in detail. It was -on the opening day of that Royal Academy Exhibition which contained -Lawrence’s celebrated portrait of Lady Blessington--one of the -very finest he ever painted, and universally known by the numerous -engravings that have since been made from it. In glancing hastily -round the room on first entering, I had duly admired this exquisite -portrait, as approaching very near to the perfection of the art, though -(as I conceived) by no means reaching it, for there were points in the -picture which struck me as inconsistent with others that were also -present. Yet I could not, except as a vague theory, lay the apparent -discrepancies at the door of the artist.... - -Presently, on returning to this portrait, I saw standing before it, -as if on purpose to confirm my theory, the lovely original. She was -leaning on the arm of her husband, Lord Blessington. And then I saw -how impossible it is for an artist to flatter a really beautiful -woman.... I have seen no other instance so striking, of the inferiority -of art to nature when the latter reaches the ideal standard, as in -this celebrated portrait of Lady Blessington.... As the original stood -before it ... she fairly “killed” the copy, and this no less in the -individual details than in the general effect. Moreover, what I had -believed to be errors and shortcomings in the picture were wholly -absent in the original. There is about the former a consciousness, a -“pretension,” a leaning forward, and a looking forth, as if to claim or -court notice and admiration, of which there was no touch in the latter. - -I have never since beheld so pure and perfect a vision of female -loveliness, in what I conceive to be its most perfect phase, that, -namely, in which intellect does not predominate over form, feature, -complexion, and the other physical attributes of female beauty, but -only serves to heighten, purify and irradiate them; and it is this -class of beauty which cannot be equalled on canvas. - -At this time Lady Blessington was about six-and-twenty[11] years -of age; but there was about her face together with that beaming -intelligence which rarely shows itself upon the countenance till that -period of life, a bloom and freshness which as rarely survives early -youth, and a total absence of those undefinable marks which thought and -feeling still more rarely fail to leave behind them. Unlike all other -beautiful faces that I have seen, hers was, at the time of which I -speak, neither a history nor a prophecy; not a book to read and study, -a problem to solve, or a mystery to speculate upon, but a star to kneel -before and worship ... an end and a consummation in itself. - -P. G. PATMORE: ‘My Friends and Acquaintance.’ London: Saunders & Otley, -1854. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Her beauty at twenty-eight.] - -From the period of her marriage with the Earl of Blessington, her -intercourse with eminent men and distinguished persons of various -pursuits may be said to date.... She was then twenty-eight years of -age, in the perfection of natural beauty, that bright and radiant -beauty which derives its power not so much from harmony of features -and symmetry of form, as from the animating influences of intelligence -beaming forth from a mind full of joyous and of kindly feelings and of -brilliant fancies--that kind of vivid loveliness which is never found -where some degree of genius is not. Her form was exquisitely moulded, -with an inclination to fullness; but no finer proportions could be -imagined; her movements were graceful and natural at all times. - -The peculiar character of Lady Blessington’s beauty seemed to be the -entire, exact, and instantaneous correspondence of every feature, and -each separate trait of her countenance, with the emotion of her mind, -which any particular subject of conversation or object of attention -might excite. The instant a joyous thought took possession of her -fancy, you saw it transmitted as if by electrical agency to her glowing -features; you read it in her sparkling eyes, her laughing lips, her -cheerful looks; you heard it expressed in her ringing laugh, clear and -sweet as the gay, joy-bell sounds of childhood’s merriest tones. - -[Sidenote: Geniality and good humor.] - -There was a geniality in the warmth of her Irish feelings, an -abandonment of all care, of all apparent consciousness of her powers of -attraction, a glowing sunshine of good-humor and of good-nature in the -smiles and laughter, and the sallies of wit of this lovely woman in her -early and happy days (those of her Italian life, especially from 1823 -to 1826), such as have been seldom surpassed.... Her voice was ever -sweetly modulated and low. Its tones were always in harmonious concord -with the traits of her expressive features. There was a cordiality, a -clear, silver-toned hilarity, a correspondence in them, apparently -with all her sensations, that made her hearers feel “she spoke to them -with every part of her being.”... All the beauty of Lady Blessington, -without the exquisite sweetness of her voice, and the witchery of -its tones in pleasing or expressing pleasure, would have been only a -secondary consideration. - -R. R. MADDEN: ‘Literary Life and Correspondence of the Countess of -Blessington.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Friendship with Lord Byron.] - -It is clear that the peculiar charm of Lady Blessington’s manner -exercised its usual spell--that the cold, scorning, and world-wearied -spirit of Byron was, for the time being, “subdued to the quality” of -the genial and happy one with which it held converse--and that both the -poet and the man became once more what nature intended them to be. - -Lady Blessington seems to have been the only woman holding his own -rank and station with whom Byron was ever at his ease, and with -whom, therefore, he was himself. With all others he seemed to feel a -constraint which irritated and vexed him into the assumption of vices -which did not belong to him. - -P. G. PATMORE: ‘My Friends and Acquaintance.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: A Byronic jeu d’esprit.] - -His lordship suffered Lady Blessington to lecture him in prose, and, -what was worse, in verse. He endeavored to persuade Lord Blessington -to prolong his stay in Genoa, and to take a residence adjoining -his own named “_Il Paradiso_.” And on a rumor of his intention to -take the place for himself, and some good-natured friend observing, -“_Il diavolo è ancora entrato in Paradiso_,” his lordship wrote the -following lines: - - “Beneath Blessington’s eyes - The reclaimed Paradise - Should be free as the former from evil; - But if the new Eve - For an apple should grieve, - What mortal would not play the devil?” - -R. R. MADDEN: ‘Literary Life and Correspondence of the Countess of -Blessington.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Lady Blessington’s apartments in Paris.] - -“The whole fitting up,” says Lady Blessington, “is in exquisite taste; -and, as usual, when my most gallant of all gallant husbands that it -ever fell to the happy lot of woman to possess interferes, no expense -has been spared. The bed, which is silvered instead of gilt, rests on -the backs of two large silver swans, so exquisitely sculptured that -every feather is in _alto-relievo_, and looks as fleecy as those of -the living birds. The recess in which it is placed is lined with white -fluted silk, bordered with blue embossed lace; and from the columns -that support the frieze of the recess, pale blue silk curtains, -lined with white, are hung, which, when drawn, conceal the recess -altogether.... A silver sofa has been made, to fit the side of the -room opposite the fire-place, near to which stands a most inviting -_bergere_. An _escritoire_ occupies one panel, a book-stand the other, -and a rich coffer for jewels forms a pendant to a similar one for lace -or India shawls. A carpet of uncut pile, of a pale blue, a silver -lamp and a Psyche glass, the ornaments silvered to correspond with -the decorations of the chamber, complete the furniture. The hangings -in the dressing-room are of blue silk, covered with lace, and trimmed -with rich frills of the same material, as are also the dressing-stands -and _chaire longue_, and the carpet and lamp are similar to those -of the bedroom. A toilet-table stands before the window, and small -_jardinieres_ are placed in front of each panel of looking-glass, but -so low as not to impede a full view of the person dressing in this -beautiful little sanctuary. The _salle de bain_ is draped with white -muslin, trimmed with lace; and the sofa and the _bergere_ are covered -with the same. The bath is of marble, inserted in the floor, with which -its surface is level. On the ceiling over it is a painting of Flora, -scattering flowers with one hand, while from the other is suspended an -alabaster lamp in the form of a lotus.” - -R. R. MADDEN: ‘Literary Life and Correspondence of the Countess of -Blessington.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Her Ladyship’s luxurious taste.] - -Her taste in everything was towards the gay, the superb, the -luxurious; but, on the whole, excellently good. Here eye was as quick -as lightning; her resources were many and original. It will not be -forgotten how ... she astounded the opera-goers by appearing in her -box with a plain transparent cap, which the world in its ignorance -called a Quaker’s cap; and the best of all likenesses of her, in date -later than the lovely Lawrence portrait, is that drawing by Chalon, in -which this tire is represented, with some additional loops of ribbon. -So, too, her houses in Seamore Place and at Kensington Gore were full -of fancies which have since passed into fashions, and which seemed -all to belong to and to agree with herself. Had she been the selfish -sybaritic woman whom many who hated her, without knowing her, delighted -to represent her, she might have indulged these joys and costly humors -with impunity; but she was affectionately, inconsiderately liberal. - -HENRY F. CHORLEY: ‘Autobiography, Memoir, and Letters,’ compiled by H. -G. Hewlett. London: Richard Bentley & Son, 1873. - - * * * * * - -The following sketch was taken from the “Ring” in Hyde Park: - -[Sidenote: Her chariot.] - -“Observe that green chariot just making the turn of the unbroken line -of equipages. Though it is now advancing towards us with at least a -dozen carriages between, it is to be distinguished from the throng by -the elevation of its driver and footman above the ordinary level of -the line. As it comes nearer, we can observe the particular points -that give it that perfectly _distingué_ appearance which it bears -above all others in the throng. They consist of the white wheels -lightly picked out with green and crimson; the high-stepping action, -blood-like shape and brilliant _manège_ of its dark bay horses; the -perfect style of its driver; the height (six feet two) of its slim, -spider-limbed, powdered footman, perked up at least three feet above -the roof of the carriage, and occupying his eminence with that peculiar -air of accidental superiority which we take to be the ideal of footman -perfection, and finally, the exceedingly light, airy, and (if we may -so speak) intellectual character of the whole set-out. The arms and -supporters blazoned on the centre panels, and the small coronet beneath -the window, indicate the nobility of station; and if ever the nobility -of nature was blazoned on the ‘complement extern’ of humanity, it is on -the lovely face within.” - -P. G. PATMORE: ‘My Friends and Acquaintance.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Her receptions.] - -Enter when you would the beautifully-arranged drawing-room of Lady -Blessington, with its gorgeous furnishing, resplendent lights, ample -mirrors, and all the accessories of value and taste, some one you were -sure to meet who was a Memory thenceforward. The list of her guests, -taking any one of her “evenings,” would comprise nearly all the leading -men of the time--Earl Grey, Lord Durham, Lord Brougham, the “Iron -Duke,” occasionally the elder and the younger Disraeli, Walter Savage -Landor, Edwin Landseer, James Smith, John Galt, “Barry Cornwall,” -Thomas Moore, Campbell, Lord Lytton and Sir Henry Lytton Bulwer, Dr. -William Beattie, Colley Grattan--a number of names crowd upon my memory -as I write--statesmen, lawyers, artists, men of letters, and foreigners -of all countries. The Emperor Napoleon was a frequent guest, and here -I have met him more than once when there seemed little prospect indeed -that the silent, apparently ungenial, and seemingly unintellectual -man, who usually occupied a neglected corner, would fill the _premier -rôle_ on the great stage of the world.... It is true few women were -encountered there. I can recall none but her sister, Lady Canterbury; -another sister, much younger, married to a French count; and her two -nieces. I once saw “the Guiccioli” there. - -S. C. HALL: ‘A Book of Memories of Great Men and Women of the Age.’ -London: Virtue & Co., 1871. - -[Sidenote: “Gore house, an impromptu.”] - - Mild Wilberforce, by all beloved, - Once owned this hallowed spot, - Whose zealous eloquence improved - The fettered Negro’s lot; - Yet here still Slavery attacks, - When Blessington invites; - The chains from which _he_ freed the Blacks - _She_ rivets on the Whites. - -JAMES SMITH: Quoted by R. R. Madden, in ‘Literary Life and -Correspondence of the Countess of Blessington.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Influence among men of letters.] - -Of Lady Blessington’s tact, kindness and remarkable beauty Procter -always spoke with ardor, and abated nothing from the popular idea of -that fascinating person. He thought she had done more in her time to -institute good feeling and social intercourse among men of letters than -any other lady in England, and he gave her eminent credit for bringing -forward the rising talent of the metropolis without waiting to be -prompted by a public verdict. - -JAMES T. FIELDS: ‘Barry Cornwall and Some of His Friends.’ Boston: -James R. Osgood & Co., 1876. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: N. P. Willis describes her.] - -A friend in Italy had kindly given me a letter to Lady Blessington, and -with a strong curiosity to see this celebrated lady, I called on the -second day after my arrival in London. It was “deep i’ the afternoon,” -but I had not yet learned the full meaning of “town hours.” “Her -ladyship had not come down to breakfast.” I gave the letter and my -address to the powdered footman, and had scarce reached home when a -note arrived inviting me to call the same evening at ten. - -In a long library lined alternately with splendidly bound books and -mirrors, and with a deep window of the breadth of the room, opening -upon Hyde Park, I found Lady Blessington alone. The picture, to my eye, -as the door opened was a very lovely one. A woman of remarkable beauty, -half buried in a _fauteuil_ of yellow satin, reading by a magnificent -lamp suspended from the centre of the arched ceiling; sofas, couches, -ottomans, and busts, arranged in rather a crowded sumptuousness through -the room; enamelled tables, covered with expensive and elegant trifles -in every corner, and a delicate white hand relieved on the back of a -book, to which the eye was attracted by the blaze of diamond rings. -As the servant mentioned my name, she rose and gave me her hand very -cordially, and a gentleman entering immediately after, she presented me -to her son-in-law, Count D’Orsay, the well-known Pelham of London, and -certainly the most splendid specimen of a man, and a well dressed one, -that I had ever seen. Tea was brought in immediately, and conversation -went swimmingly on. - -[Sidenote: Appearances at forty.] - -The portrait of Lady Blessington in the ‘Book of Beauty’ is not unlike -her, but it is still an unfavorable likeness. A picture by Sir Thomas -Lawrence hung opposite me, taken, perhaps, at the age of eighteen, -which is more like her, and as captivating a representation of a just -matured woman, full of loveliness and love, the kind of creature -with whose divine sweetness the gazer’s heart aches, as ever was -drawn in the painter’s most inspired hour. The original is now (she -confessed it very frankly) forty. She looks something on the sunny -side of thirty. Her person is full, but preserves all the fineness of -an admirable shape; her foot is not crowded in a satin slipper for -which a Cinderella might be looked for in vain, and her complexion -(an unusually fair skin with very dark hair and eyebrows) is of even -a girlish delicacy and freshness. Her dress of blue satin was cut -low, and folded across her bosom, in a way to show to advantage the -round and sculpture-like curve and whiteness of a pair of exquisite -shoulders, while her hair dressed close to her head and parted simply -on her forehead with a rich _feronière_ of turquoise, enveloped in -clear outline a head with which it would be difficult to find a fault. -Her features are regular, and her mouth, the most expressive of -them, has a ripe fullness and freedom of play peculiar to the Irish -physiognomy, and expressive of the most unsuspicious good-humor. Add -to all this a voice merry and sad by turns, but always musical, and -manners of the most unpretending elegance, yet even more remarkable for -their winning kindness, and you have the most prominent traits of one -of the most lovely and fascinating women I have ever seen. - -NATHANIEL P. WILLIS: ‘Pencillings by the Way.’ New York: Charles -Scribner, 1853. - - * * * * * - -Lady Blessington was fair, florid-complexioned, with sparkling eyes and -white, high forehead, above which her bright brown hair was smoothly -braided beneath a light and simple blonde cap, in which were a few -touches of sky-blue satin ribbon that singularly well became her, -setting off her buxom face and its vivid coloring. - -MARY COWDEN CLARKE: ‘Recollections of Writers.’ New York: Charles -Scribner’s Sons. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Growing stout.] - -She was inclined to _embonpoint_;[12] her hair abundant and of a -lightish brown; but she always wore caps fastened under the chin; her -complexion fair and healthily tinged, deriving no aid from art; she was -too stout to be graceful, but she had a natural grace that regulated -all her movements. - -S. C. HALL: ‘Book of Memories.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Essentially Irish.] - -At that period [1832] she was past her prime no doubt, but she was -still remarkably handsome; not so, perhaps, if tried by the established -canons of beauty; but there was a fascination about her look and manner -that greatly augmented her personal charms. Her face and features were -essentially Irish, and that is the highest compliment I can pay them. - -S. C. HALL: ‘Retrospect of a Long Life.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Landor’s admiration.] - -I went by Landor’s desire to Lady Blessington’s, to whom he had named -me. She is a charming and remarkable person.... Her dress rich, and her -library most splendid. Her book about Lord Byron (now publishing by -driblets in the _New Monthly Magazine_), and her other writings, give -her in addition the character of a _bel esprit_. Landor says that she -was to Lord Blessington the most devoted wife he ever knew. He says, -also, that she was by far the most beautiful woman he ever saw, and was -so deemed at the Court of George IV. She is now, Landor says, about -thirty, but I should have thought her older. [She was forty-five.] She -is a great talker, but her talk is rather narrative than declamatory, -and very pleasant. - -HENRY CRABB ROBINSON: _Diary_, 1832, in ‘Diary, Reminiscences, and -Correspondence,’ edited by T. Sadler. Boston: J. R. Osgood & Co., 1871. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Friendship of Count D’Orsay.] - -Count D’Orsay was so little guided by principle that he could not -expect general credit for the purity of his relations with Lady -Blessington; yet, I think, he might honestly have claimed it. - -S. C. HALL: ‘Retrospect of a Long Life.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Gore House demolished.] - -On the 10th of May, 1849, I visited Gore House for the last time. -The auction was going on. There was a large assemblage of people of -fashion. Every room was thronged; the well-known library-saloon, -in which the conversationes took place, was crowded, but not with -guests.... People, as they passed through the room, poked the -furniture, pulled about the precious objects of art and ornaments of -various kinds that lay on the table.... It was a relief to leave that -room: I went into another, the dining-room, where I had frequently -enjoyed, “in goodly company,” the elegant hospitality of one who was -indeed “a most kind hostess.”... In another apartment, where the -pictures were being sold, portraits by Lawrence, sketches by Landseer -and Maclise, innumerable likenesses of Lady Blessington by various -artists; several of the Count D’Orsay, representing him driving, -riding out on horseback, sporting, and at work in his studio; his own -collection of portraits of all the frequenters of note or mark in -society of the villa Belvedere, the Palazzo Negroni, the Hotel Ney, -Seamore Place, and Gore House, in quick succession were brought to -the hammer.... This was the most signal ruin of an establishment of -a person of high rank I ever witnessed. Nothing of value was saved -from the wreck, with the exception of the portrait of Lady Blessington -by Chalon, and one or two more pictures. Here was a total smash, a -crash on a grand scale of ruin. To the honor of Lady Blessington be it -mentioned, she saved nothing, with the few exceptions I have referred -to, from the wreck.... I am able to state, on authority, that the -gross amount of the sale was £13,385, and the net sum realized was -£11,985 4s. The portrait of Lady Blessington, by Lawrence, which cost -originally only £80, I saw sold for £336. It was purchased for the -Marquis of Hertford. - -R. R. MADDEN: ‘Literary Life and Correspondence of the Countess of -Blessington.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: A steady friend.] - -She was a steady friend, through good report and evil report, for those -to whom she professed friendship.... The courage with which she clung -to her attachments long after they brought her only shame and sorrow, -spoke for the affectionate heart, which no luxury could spoil and no -vicissitude sour. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: A sunny nature.] - -She must have had originally the most sunny of sunny natures. As -it was, I have never seen anything like her vivacity and sweet -cheerfulness during the early years when I knew her. She had a singular -power of entertaining herself by her own stories; the keenness of an -Irishwoman in relishing fun and repartee, strange turns of language, -and bright touches of character. A fairer, kinder, more universal -recipient of everything that came within the possibilities of her mind, -I have never known. I think the only genuine author whose merits she -was averse to admit was Hood; and yet she knew Rabelais, and delighted -in ‘Elia.’ It was her real disposition to dwell on beauties rather than -faults. Critical she could be, and as judiciously critical as any woman -I have ever known, but she never seemed to be so willingly. When a poem -was read to her, or a book given to her, she could always touch on the -best passage, the bright point; and rarely missed the purpose of the -work, if purpose it had. - -HENRY F. CHORLEY: ‘Autobiography, Memoir and Letters.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: “The victim of circumstances.”] - -Although I knew her history sufficiently well, I attributed to this -particular daughter of Erin her share of the “wild sweet briery fence -that round the flower of Erin dwells,” and felt conviction that for the -unhappy circumstances of Lady Blessington’s early life, the sins of -others, far more than her own, were responsible, and that she had been -to a great extent the victim of circumstances. To that opinion I still -hold--some thirty years after her death, and more than fifty since I -first saw her. - -S. C. HALL: ‘Retrospect of a Long Life.’ - - -FOOTNOTES: - -[11] She was over twenty-eight; she seems always to have looked younger -than she actually was. - -[12] Leigh Hunt describes her in ‘The Feast of the Violets,’ as - - “A Grace after dinner--a Venus grown fat.” - - - - - MARY RUSSELL MITFORD. - - 1787-1855. - - - - - MARY RUSSELL MITFORD. - - -Mary Russell Mitford was born at Alresford, Hampshire, on the 16th of -December, 1787. She was the daughter of George Mitford, a physician of -good family, and Mary Russell, whose father had been rector of Ashe -and Tadley, and vicar of Overton. The little Mary Russell Mitford was -but four or five years old when the family removed from Alresford to -Lyme Regis, Dorsetshire; thence they went to London. Here occurred, on -Mary’s eleventh birthday, the famous incident of the lottery-ticket. -Dr. Mitford, reinforced in fortune by his daughter’s childish -persistence, next went to reside in Reading. “Mezza,” as her parents -called her, remained at school in Hans Place until 1802. About this -time Bertram House, a country residence at Grasely, near Reading, in -the improvement of which Dr. Mitford had freely expended the fairy gold -of the lottery, was at last ready for occupation. This was the home of -the Mitford family until 1820, when pecuniary embarrassments, caused -by the doctor’s extravagance and love of play, drove them to the now -famous cottage at Three Mile Cross. - -She had already published several books of verse, which have been long -forgotten: _Miscellaneous Poems_, _Christina_, _Blanch of Castile_, -_Narrative Poems on Female Character_, and others. She speaks -disparagingly of one of these volumes in a letter to B. R. Haydon in -1819. “It was written when extreme youth and haste might apologize -for the incorrectness, the silliness, and the commonplace with which -it abounds, but I am afraid it has deficiencies which are worse than -any fault.” “You are aware, I hope,” she says in another letter, “that -all clever people begin by publishing bad poems.” She was now forced, -at thirty-three, to take up her pen in earnest. She worked steadily -both at plays and at the sketches collected in 1824 under the title, -OUR VILLAGE. In 1823 her first tragedy, _Julian_, was successfully -performed at Covent Garden, with Macready as the principal character. -_The Foscari_ appeared in 1826, and _Dramatic Scenes, Sonnets and Other -Poems_, in 1827. Towards the end of 1828, _Rienzi_ was produced at -Drury Lane, Charles Young enacting the hero. Miss Mitford is said to -have received £400 from the theatre, and to have sold eight thousand -copies of the play. Other works in this field were _Otto_, _Inez de -Castro_, and _Charles I_. In 1835 was published BELFORD REGIS, a sequel -to OUR VILLAGE, and in 1852, RECOLLECTIONS OF A LITERARY LIFE. In 1854 -a novel, _Atherton_, appeared, and in the same year her dramatic works -were collected. - -Mrs. Mitford had died in 1830, Dr. Mitford in 1842. In 1851 Miss -Mitford removed from Three Mile Cross to Swallowfield, where, on the -10th of January, 1855, she died. She had been ill for some time, never -having recovered from the shock of an accident that had occurred in -1853 while she was driving in a pony-chaise. - -In reading the Life of Miss Mitford, which the Rev. Mr. L’Estrange has -compiled from her letters, it is interesting to mark the development -of her character by her misfortunes. The indolent, novel-devouring -young lady of Bertram House, with her school-girlish conceit, is a -far less lovable person than the self-sacrificing woman who toiled -uncomplainingly for a spend-thrift father in the cottage at Three Mile -Cross. As was said of her, on the occasion of her accident, by one of -her correspondents, she was “like mignonette, the sweeter the more it -is bruised.” - -Her criticism was singularly capricious. For instance, she calmly -pronounced ‘Henry Esmond’ commonplace; the adjective recoils upon -her own work. Commonplace the latter is, but in the same pleasant -sense in which sweet fresh air, and primroses, and cowslips, and the -meadow-sweet she loved, are commonplace. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Precocity.] - -In common with many only children, especially where the mother is of -a grave and home-loving nature, I learned to read at a very early -age. Before I was three years old my father would perch me on the -breakfast-table to exhibit my one accomplishment to some admiring -guest, who admired all the more, because, a small, puny child, looking -far younger than I really was, nicely dressed, as only children -generally are, and gifted with an affluence of curls, I might have -passed for the twin sister of my own great doll. On the table was -I perched to read some Foxite newspaper, ‘_Courier_,’ or ‘_Morning -Chronicle_,’ the Whiggish oracles of the day, and as my delight in the -high-seasoned politics of sixty years ago was naturally less than that -of my hearers, this display of precocious acquirement was commonly -rewarded, not by cakes or sugar-plums, too plentiful in my case to -be very greatly cared for, but by a sort of payment in kind. I read -leading articles to please the company; and my dear mother recited ‘The -Children in the Wood’ to please me. This was my reward; and I looked -for my favorite ballad after every performance just as the piping -bull-finch that hung in the window looked for his lump of sugar after -going through ‘God Save the King.’ - -[Sidenote: Early home.] - -A pleasant home, in truth, it was. A large house in a little town -of the north of Hampshire--a town, so small that but for an ancient -market, very slenderly attended, nobody would have dreamt of calling -it anything but a village. The breakfast-room, where I first possessed -myself of my beloved ballads, was a lofty and spacious apartment, -literally lined with books, which, with its Turkey carpet, its glowing -fire, its sofas and its easy chairs, seemed, what indeed it was, a very -nest of English comfort. The windows opened on a large, old-fashioned -garden, full of old-fashioned flowers--stocks, roses, honeysuckles, -and pinks; and that again led into a grassy orchard, abounding with -fruit-trees, a picturesque country church with its yews and lindens -on one side, and beyond, a down as smooth as velvet, dotted with rich -islands of coppice, hazel, woodbine, hawthorn and holly reaching up -into the young oaks, and overhanging flowery patches of primroses, -wood-sorrel, wild hyacinths, and wild strawberries. On the side -opposite the church, in a hollow fringed with alders and bulrushes, -gleamed the bright clear lakelet, radiant with swans and water-lilies, -which the simple townsfolk were content to call the Great Pond. - -What a play-ground was that orchard! and what playfellows were mine! -Nancy [the maid], with her trim prettiness, my own dear father, -handsomest and cheerfullest of men, and the great Newfoundland dog Coe, -who used to lie down at my feet, as if to invite me to mount him, and -then to prance off with his burden, as if he enjoyed the fun as much -as we did. Happy, happy days! It is good to have the memory of such a -childhood! - -MARY RUSSELL MITFORD: ‘Recollections of a Literary Life.’ New York: -Harper & Bros., 1852. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Her play-mate.] - -[Sidenote: Mary at six.] - -One of William Harness’s earliest friends--born at Alresford, in the -same woodland district--was Mary Russell Mitford. Their families had -long been connected: Dr. Harness gave away Miss Russell, who became -Miss Mitford’s mother; and it was here that the future authoress passed -those happy days--her earliest years were her happiest--to which -she reverted with such fond remembrance in after life. Here, in the -spacious library, lined with her grandfather Russell’s books, or in -the old-fashioned garden, among the stocks and holly-hocks, she and -little William would chase away the summer hours, until the time when -the carriage arrived, which was to carry her playmate back to Wickham. -A picture taken when she was about six years old enables us to form -some idea of her at this time. It represents her with her hair cut -short across her forehead, and flowing down at the back in long glossy -ringlets, while in her face there is a sedateness and gravity beyond -her years, such as we might expect to find in a young lady devoted to -study, and celebrated for early feats of memory. - -REV. A. G. L’ESTRANGE: ‘Literary Life of the Rev. William Harness.’ -London: Hurst & Blackett, 1871. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: A spoilt child.] - -Most undoubtedly I was a spoilt child. Everybody spoilt me, most of all -the person whose power in that way was greatest, the dear papa himself. -Not content with spoiling me indoors he spoilt me out. How well I -remember his carrying me round the orchard on his shoulder, holding -fast my little three-year old feet, while the little hands hung on to -his pigtail, which I called my bridle, ... hung so fast, and tugged so -heartily, that sometimes the ribbon would come off between my fingers, -and send his hair floating, and the powder flying down his back. That -climax of mischief was the crowning joy of all. - -Nor were these my only rides. This dear papa of mine, whose gay and -careless temper all the professional _etiquette_ of the world could -never tame into the staid gravity proper to a doctor of medicine, -happened to be a capital horseman; and abandoning the close carriage, -which, at that time, was the regulation conveyance of a physician, -almost wholly to my mother, used to pay his country visits on a -favorite blood-mare, whose extreme docility and gentleness tempted -him, after certain short trials round our old course, the orchard, -into having a pad constructed, perched upon which I might occasionally -accompany him, when the weather was favorable, and the distance not too -great. Very delightful were those rides across the breezy Hampshire -downs on a sunny summer morning; and grieved was I when a change of -residence from a small town to a large one, and going among people -who did not know our ways, put an end to this perfectly harmless, if -somewhat unusual pleasure. - -MARY RUSSELL MITFORD: ‘Recollections of a Literary Life.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: The lottery ticket.] - -On her tenth birthday Dr. Mitford took the child to a lottery-office, -and bade her select a ticket. She determined--guided, to all -appearance, by one of the unaccountable whims of childhood--that she -would have none other than the number 2,224. Some difficulty attended -the purchase of the coveted number, but the little lottery patroness -had her way at last, and on the day of drawing there fell to the lot -of the happy holder of ticket No. 2,224 a prize of £20,000. Alas! the -holder of the fortunate ticket was happy only in name. By the time his -daughter was a woman, there remained to Dr. Mitford, of all his lottery -adventure had brought him, a Wedgwood dinner service with the family -crest! - -S. C. HALL: _Note in_ ‘Retrospect of a Long Life.’ New York: D. -Appleton & Co., 1883. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: At school.] - -We find the doctor, about the year 1797, residing at Reading, with his -phaeton, his spaniels and his greyhounds, and enjoying his good-fortune -with all his wonted hilarity of spirit, prodigality of expense, and -utter want of consideration for the future.... His daughter was at -this time at school in Hans Place--a small square into which you turn -on the right hand out of Sloane Street, as you go from Knightsbridge -to Chelsea.... Once fairly entered at M. St. Quintin’s school, Mary -Russell Mitford seems to have applied herself, with all her heart -and mind, to learn whatever the masters and mistresses were prepared -to teach her. French, Italian, history, geography, astronomy, music, -singing, drawing, dancing, were not enough to satisfy her eager thirst -for instruction: and we find her informing her mother that she intended -to learn Latin.... Excepting music, there was no branch of education -within her reach at the Hans Place School which she was not zealous -and successful in the pursuit of; but in that accomplishment she took -little pleasure. She never at any time of her life showed much taste or -feeling for it. - -Like so very many precocious children, she was of a scrofulous -temperament, and had suffered much from illness in her infancy. In -person she was short for her age; and, there is no possibility of -evading the word by any gentle synonym or extenuating periphrasis, she -was, in sincere truth and very plain English, decidedly fat. Her face, -of which the expression was kind, gentle, and intelligent, ought to -have been handsome, for the features were all separately good and like -her father’s, but from some almost imperceptible disproportion, and -the total change of coloring, the beauty had evanesced. But although -very plain in figure and in face, she was never common-looking. She -showed in her countenance and in her mild self-possession, that she was -no ordinary child; and with her sweet smile, her gentle temper, her -animated conversation, her keen enjoyment of life, and her incomparable -voice, there were few of the prettiest children of her age who won so -much love and admiration from their friends, whether young or old, as -little Mary Mitford. And except, indeed, that her hair became white at -an early age, few persons, it may be added, in passing through so many -vicissitudes of life, ever altered so little, either in character or -appearance. - -[Sidenote: Home life after leaving school.] - -Her delight in the sports of the field was no more than a sympathetic -affection of her father’s pleasure. It was theoretical and not -practical. She was no horsewoman. She was capable of very little -exercise beyond a modest walk.... She remained at home and received -visits. She went out in the green chariot with her mother and returned -them. They drove into Reading after their visits were all paid to do -their shopping and hear if there were any news, or rather to pick up -the present gossip of the neighborhood; and when these affairs were -dispatched, and they found themselves again at home, the daughter would -lie for hours together on a sofa, with her dog by her side, reading -anything--good, bad, or indifferent, which came to hand, guided by -chance or fancy, without any apparent attempt at selection. The number -of books she read is almost incredible.... Undoubtedly the young -lady must have consumed a great deal of trash; but there are some -constitutions with which nothing seems to disagree; and probably there -was none of these works from which she did not derive some advantage. -If she met with nothing good to imitate, she at least learned to see -what was bad and to be avoided. - -REV. A. G. L’ESTRANGE: ‘Life of Mary Russell Mitford.’ London: Richard -Bentley, 1870. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Favorite exercise.] - -The exercise which I do dearly love is to be whirled along fast, fast, -fast, by a blood-horse in a gig; this under a bright sun, with a brisk -wind full in my face, is my highest notion of physical pleasure; even -walking is not so exhilarating. - -MARY RUSSELL MITFORD: _Letter to Sir William Elford_, in the former’s -‘Life,’ by L’Estrange. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Favorite idleness.] - -But reading is my favorite mode of idleness. I like it better than any -of my play-works, better than fir-coning, better than violeting, better -than working gowntails, better than playing with Miranda (her dog), -better than feeding the white kitten, better than riding in a gig, -better than anything except that other pet idleness, talking (that is -to say _writing_) to you. - -MARY RUSSELL MITFORD: _Letter to Sir William Elford_, in ‘Life,’ by -L’Estrange. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Letters.] - -I am inclined to think that her correspondence, so full of point in -allusions, so full of anecdote and recollections, will be considered -among her finest writings. Her criticisms, not always the wisest, were -always piquant and readable. She had such a charming humor and her -style was so delightful, that her friendly notes had a relish about -them quite their own. - -JAMES T. FIELDS: ‘Yesterdays With Authors.’ Boston: James R. Osgood & -Co., 1872. - - * * * * * - -Soon after his friend’s death, Mr. Harness commenced the task of -looking through her letters, but he found the work much more arduous -than he had anticipated. Although her habits were in every respect -frugal, her favorite economy seemed to be in paper. Her letters -were scribbled on innumerable small scraps--sometimes on printed -circulars--sometimes across engravings--and half a dozen of these would -form one epistle and in course of time become confused and interchanged -in their envelopes. When we add to this that toward the end of her life -Miss Mitford’s handwriting became almost microscopic, it can be easily -understood that the arrangement of these sibylline leaves was no short -or easy undertaking. - -REV. A. G. L’ESTRANGE: ‘Literary Life of the Rev. William Harness.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Handwriting.] - -There are intelligent persons who make a living out of their -fellow-creatures by pretending to read character in hand-writing. What -would they make, I wonder, out of this delicate, microscopic writing, -looking as if it were done with a stylus, and without blot or flaw? The -paper is all odds and ends, and not a scrap of it but is covered and -crossed; the very flaps of the envelopes, and even the outside of them, -having their message. The reason of this is that the writer had lived -in a time when postage was very dear; like Southey, she used to boast -that she could send more for her money by post than any one else; and -when the necessity no longer existed, the custom remained. How, at her -age, her eyes could read what she herself had written used to puzzle me. - -JAMES PAYN: ‘Some Literary Recollections.’ New York: Harper & Bros., -1884. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Her dog “Moss Trooper.”] - -He was the greatest darling that ever lived.... He was a large black -dog, of the largest and strongest kind of greyhounds; very fast and -honest and resolute past example; an excellent killer of hares, and -a most magnificent and noble-looking creature. His coat was of the -finest and most glossy black, with no white, except a very little -under his feet (pretty white shoelings, I used to call them)--little -beautiful white spot, quite small, in the very middle of his neck, -between his chin and his breast--and a white mark on his bosom. His -face was singularly beautiful; the finest black eyes, very bright, and -yet sweet, and fond and tender--eyes that seemed to speak; a beautiful, -complacent mouth, which used sometimes to show one of the long, white -teeth at the side; a jet-black nose; a brow which was bent and flexible -... and gave great sweetness of expression, and a look of thought to -his dear face. There never was such a dog! His temper was, beyond -comparison, the sweetest ever known. Nobody ever saw him out of humor. -And his sagacity was equal to his temper. - -MARY RUSSELL MITFORD: Quoted in her ‘Life,’ by L’Estrange. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Her dog “May Flower.”] - -We have a greyhound, called May Flower, of excelling grace and -symmetry--just of the color of the May blossom--like marble with the -sun upon it; and she kills every hare she sees--takes them up in the -middle of the back, brings them in her mouth to my father, and lays -them down at his feet. I assure you she is quite a study while bringing -the hares--the fine contrast of color--her beautiful position, head -and tail up, and her long neck arched like that of a swan--with the -shade shifting upon her beautiful limbs, and her black eyes really -emitting light! - -MARY RUSSELL MITFORD: _Letter to Sir William Elford_, in the former’s -‘Life,’ by L’Estrange. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Pleasure in a glow-worm.] - -Did you ever see a glow-worm half way up a high tree? We did last -night. It was a tall elm, stripped of large branches almost to the top, -as the fashion is in this country, but the trunk clothed with little -green twigs, upon one of which the glow-worm hung like a lamp, looking -so beautiful! - -MARY RUSSELL MITFORD: _Letter to Sir William Elford_, in the former’s -‘Life,’ by L’Estrange. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Love of field flowers.] - -In truth, nothing can be more vulgar than my taste in flowers, for -which I have a passion. I like scarcely any but the common ones. -First and best I love violets, and primroses, and cowslips, and wood -anemones, and the whole train of field flowers; then roses of every -kind and color, especially the great cabbage rose; then the blossoms of -the lilac and laburnum, the horse-chestnut, the asters, the jasmine, -and the honeysuckle; and to close the list, lilies of the valley, sweet -peas, and the red pinks which are found in cottagers’ gardens. This is -my confession of faith. - -MARY RUSSELL MITFORD: _Letter to Sir William Elford_, in the former’s -‘Life,’ by L’Estrange. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Pet robin.] - -All this warm weather I sit out of doors in the plantations; just on -one side of my seat is a filbert tree, the branches of which spread -quite across my feet, and on these branches every day comes a young -red-breast. First of all he appeared at a distance, then he came -nearer, then he came close home, and now, the moment I call “Bobby,” -he comes.... He comes on my feet and my gown, feeds almost on my hand -(not quite), and has by example tamed his papa and one or two of his -brothers and sisters, who come like him and feed from a board on the -tree, quite close to me; but they do not, like my own Bobby, come when -they are called. Is this usual in the summer? I know they are tame -in the winter; but this is quite a young bird--has never known cold -or hunger. He had not a red feather in his breast a fortnight ago. -He likes very much to be talked to, in a soft, monotonous, caressing -tone--“Bobby! Bobby! Bobby!”--and turns his little head in the -prettiest attitudes of listening that you can imagine, and generally -finishes by taking two or three flights across me, so close as almost -to touch my face. - -MARY RUSSELL MITFORD: _Letter to Sir William Elford_, in the former’s -‘Life,’ by L’Estrange. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Dogs and geraniums, in later life.] - -Her dogs and her geraniums were her great glories. She used to write -me long letters about Fanchon, a dog whose personal acquaintance I had -made some time before, while on a visit to her cottage. Every virtue -under heaven she attributed to that canine individual; and I was -obliged to allow in my return letters, that, since our planet began to -spin, nothing comparable to Fanchon had ever run on four legs. I had -also known Flush, the ancestor of Fanchon, intimately, and had been -accustomed to hear wonderful things of that dog; but Fanchon had graces -and genius unique. - -JAMES T. FIELDS: ‘Yesterdays with Authors.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Removal from Bertram House.] - -The last days of March, 1820, were employed in removing from the home -which they had occupied for nearly twenty years, at first in affluence -and comfort, but latterly with a severe economy, and a constant -struggle against encroaching ruin. Every visit of the doctor to London -was followed by some fresh privation to his wife and daughter. Within -six years of the completion of Bertram House--so early as 1808--great -reductions had been required in the establishment. The servant out -of livery had been dispensed with. There had ceased to be any lady’s -maid. The footman had degenerated into an awkward lad, who was not only -expected to wait at table and go out with the carriage, but to make -himself useful in the stable or the garden. The carriage horses were -employed on the work of the farm.... By and by Mrs. Mitford is harassed -by difficulties in obtaining remittances for the moderate expenses of -her diminished household. Tradesmen refuse to serve the house with the -common requirements of the family till previous accounts are settled. -On several occasions they are at a loss whence to procure food for the -greyhounds, and once Mrs. Mitford writes imploringly to the doctor, -with the greatest earnestness, but without the slightest intimation of -reproach, requesting him to send her a _one pound note_ by return of -post, as they are actually in want of bread.... And who was the author -of this distress? The father alone. The wife, by the most careful -management and self-denial; the daughter, by her literary industry; -were doing every thing in their power to lighten its pressure and ward -off its fall. It was the sole work of the husband. The cause of all -this misery was the doctor’s love of play, and its concomitant dabbling -in gambling speculations. - -REV. A. G. L’ESTRANGE: ‘Life of Mary Russell Mitford.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Character of Dr. Mitford.] - -Mr. Horne, in his edition of Mrs. Barrett Browning’s letters, tells us -that Miss Mitford’s father was “a jovial, stick-at-nothing, fox-hunting -squire of the three-bottle class,”--a tolerably correct description, -if we substitute “coursing” for “fox-hunting,” and “doctor” for -“squire.”... It appears from incidental notices that he had a keen -relish for fine wine, and that indulgence in it did not invariably make -him the better. Miss Mitford, no doubt, owed to him much of her natural -buoyancy of spirit, and some of her predilection for country pursuits -and for the canine race, of which greyhounds were his favorites. -Children and dogs loved him, and so did others who did not understand -him, or refused to see his faults. Women have generally represented -Dr. Mitford as amiable and pleasant; there was something cheering and -hearty in his familiarity. The character is not uncommon; he was one -of those good-looking, profligate spendthrifts, who, reckless of -consequences, bring misery upon their families and remain dear to their -mothers and daughters.... Dr. Mitford often did kind actions, which it -is unfair to ignore; he seems even to have had some sort of generosity, -and the ease with which he parted with his money was one of his most -unfortunate weaknesses. But Miss Mitford’s appreciation of her father -was mostly due to filial devotion. Never was affection more severely -tried. She had to see thousands, seventy thousand pounds, passing out -of his careless hands until he became dependent upon the small pittance -she could earn by arduous literary labor. - -REV. A. G. L’ESTRANGE: ‘The Friendships of Mary Russell Mitford.’ New -York: Harper & Bros., 1882. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Cottage at Three Mile Cross.] - -Our residence is a cottage--no, not a cottage--it does not deserve the -name--a messuage or tenement, such as a little farmer who had made -twelve or fourteen hundred pounds might retire to, when he left off -business to live on his means. It consists of a series of closets, -the largest of which may be about eight feet square, which they call -parlors, and kitchens and pantries; some of them minus a corner, which -has been unnaturally filched for a chimney; others deficient in half -a side, which has been truncated by the shelving roof. Behind is a -garden about the size of a good drawing-room, with an arbor which -is a complete sentry-box of privet. On one side a public-house, on -the other a village shop, and right opposite a cobbler’s stall.... -Notwithstanding all this, “the cabin,” as Bobadil says, “is -convenient.” It is within reach of my dear old walks; the banks where I -find my violets; the meadows full of cowslips; and the woods where the -wood-sorrel blows. - -MARY RUSSELL MITFORD: _Letter to Sir William Elford_, April 8, 1820; in -the former’s ‘Life,’ by L’Estrange. - - * * * * * - -I have grown exceedingly fond of this little place. Did I ever -tell you I disliked it? I love it of all things--have taken root -completely--could be content to live and die here. To be sure the rooms -are of the smallest. I, in our little parlor, look something like a -black-bird in a goldfinch’s cage--but it is so snug and comfortable. - -MARY RUSSELL MITFORD: _Letter to Sir William Elford_, June 21, 1820; in -the former’s ‘Life,’ by L’Estrange. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: The cottage garden.] - -My little garden is a perfect rosary--the greenest and most blossomy -nook that ever the sun shone upon. It is almost shut in by buildings; -one a long open shed, very pretty, a sort of a rural arcade, where -we sit. On the other side is an old granary, to which we mount by -outside wooden steps, also very pretty. Then, there is an opening to -a little court, also backed by buildings, but with room enough to let -in the sunshine, the north-west sunshine that comes aslant in summer -evenings, through and under a large elder tree. One end is closed -by our pretty irregular cottage, which, as well as the granary, is -covered by cherry trees, vines, roses, jessamine, honeysuckle, and -grand spires of hollyhocks. The other is comparatively open, showing -over high pales the blue sky and a range of woody hills. All and -every part is untrimmed, antique, weather-stained and homely as can -be imagined--gratifying the eye by its exceeding picturesqueness, and -the mind by the certainty that no pictorial effect was intended--that -it owes all its charms to “rare accident.” My father laughs at my -passionate love for my little garden--and perhaps you will laugh too; -but I assure you it’s a “bonny bit” of earth as ever was crammed full -of lilies and roses. - -MARY RUSSELL MITFORD: _Letter to B. R. Haydon_, in the former’s ‘Life,’ -by L’Estrange. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Difficulties with plays.] - -I would not recommend any friend to write for the stage because it -nearly killed me with its unspeakable worries and anxieties, and I am -certainly ten years older for having so written; but of all forms of -poetry it is the one I prefer, and I would always advise the writing -with a view to the production of the piece upon the boards, because it -avoids the danger of interminable dialogues of coldness and languor.... -Write for the stage, but don’t bring the play out--that is my advice. -If you wish to know my reasons, you may find some of them in the fact -that one of my tragedies had seven last acts, and that two others -fought each other during a whole season at Covent Garden Theatre; Mr. -Macready insisted on producing one, Charles Kemble was equally bent -upon the other--neither of them even pretending to any superiority of -either play but because one, a man of fifty, would play the young man’s -part, and the other insisted that none but himself should have anything -like a telling part at all. Both were read in the green-room, both -advertised--and just think of the poor author in the country all the -time, while the money was earnestly wanted, and the non-production fell -upon her like a sin! - -MARY RUSSELL MITFORD: _Letter to Mr. Digby Starkey_, in ‘Friendships of -Mary Russell Mitford,’ by L’Estrange. - - * * * * * - -I would rather serve in a shop--rather scour floors--rather nurse -children, than undergo these tremendous and interminable disputes, and -this unwomanly publicity. - -[Sidenote: Drudgery.] - -Pray forgive this sad no-letter. Alas! the free and happy hours, when -I could read and think and prattle for you, are passed away. Oh! will -they ever return? I am now chained to a desk, eight, ten, twelve hours -a day, at mere drudgery. All my thoughts of writing are for hard money. -All my correspondence is on hard business.... A washerwoman hath a -better trade.... I myself hate all my own doings, and consider the -being forced to this drudgery as the greatest misery that life can -afford. But it is my wretched fate and must be undergone--so long, at -least, as my father is spared to me. If I should have the misfortune to -lose him, I shall go quietly to the workhouse, and never write another -line--a far preferable destiny. - -MARY RUSSELL MITFORD: _Letter to Sir William Elford_, in the former’s -‘Life,’ by L’Estrange. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Lionized in London.] - -Every day we had from sixty to seventy visitors, and three times more -parties made for me than I could have attended, even if I had refused -all exhibiting show parties and gone only to friends, dining with what -they called quiet parties of twenty or thirty, and thirty or forty more -arriving to tea. At last, however, I was forced to break off this, -or I should have returned to the country without seeing any public -place whatever; and my last week or ten days were spent in seeing all -to be seen in London in the morning, and attending operas and plays -every evening--the artists all writing to show me their galleries, -and the very best private boxes everywhere being reserved for my -accommodation--no queen could have been more deferentially received. - -MARY RUSSELL MITFORD: _Letter to Emily Jephson_, 1834, in ‘Friendships -of Mary Russell Mitford,’ by L’Estrange. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Town and country manners.] - -Miss Landon called her “Sancho Panza in petticoats”; yet among the -lanes and glades of her own sunny Berkshire she might have aptly seemed -a merry milk-maid--proper to the place. Her round figure, jolly face, -perpetual smile, ready greeting, kindly words, seemed of kin to the -nature that is away from crowded streets. Assuredly she was more at -home at Three-Mile Cross than she was in London. In London she seemed -always _en garde_, thought an air of patronage was the right thing, -and that an author about whom the whole world was talking, and who had -achieved the greatest of all literary successes--the production of a -tragedy--was bound to be stately as well as cordial--to have company -manners that she would have thrown off as a paralyzing incumbrance -where the breezes blew among the trees that shaded her native heath. - -S. C. HALL: ‘Retrospect of a Long Life.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Mrs. Hall’s first impression of Miss Mitford.] - -I certainly was disappointed, when a stout little lady, tightened -up in a shawl, rolled into the parlor in Newman Street, and Mrs. -Hofland announced her as Miss Mitford; her short petticoats showing -wonderfully stout leather boots, her shawl _bundled_ on, and a little -black coal-scuttle bonnet--when bonnets were expanding--added to the -effect of her natural shortness and rotundity; but her manner was -that of a cordial country gentlewoman; the pressure of her fat little -hands (for she extended both) was warm; her eyes both soft and bright, -looked kindly and frankly into mine; and her pretty, rosy mouth dimpled -with smiles that were always sweet and friendly. At first I did not -think her at all “grand or stilted,” though she declared she had been -quite spoilt--quite ruined since she came to London, with all the -fine compliments she had received; but the trial was yet to come. -“Suppose--suppose ‘Rienzi’ should be--” and she shook her head. Of -course, in full chorus, we declared that impossible. “No! she would -not spend an evening with us until after the first night; if the play -went ill, or even coldly, she would run away, and never be again seen -or heard of; if it succeeded”--She drew her rotund person to its full -height, and endeavored to stretch her neck, and the expression of her -beaming face assumed an air of unmistakable triumph. She was always -pleasant to look at, and had her face not been cast in so broad--so -“outspread”--a mould, she would have been handsome; even with that -disadvantage, if her figure had been tall enough to carry her head with -dignity, she would have been so; but she was most vexatiously “dumpy.” - -[Sidenote: A little spoiled by success.] - -She kept her promise to us, and after ‘Rienzi’s’ triumph, spent an -evening at our house, “the observed of all observers.” She did not, -however, appear to advantage that evening; her manner was constrained, -and even haughty. She got up tragedy looks, which did not harmonize -with her naturally playful expression. She seated herself in a high -chair, and was indignant at the offer of a foot-stool, though her -feet barely touched the ground; she received those who wished to be -introduced to her _en reine_; but such was her popularity just then, -that all were gratified. She was most unbecomingly dressed in a striped -satin something, neither high nor low, with very short sleeves, for -her arms were white and finely formed; she wore a large yellow turban, -which added considerably to the size of her head. She had evidently -bought the hideous thing _en route_, and put it on in the carriage, -as she drove down to our house, for pinned at the back was a somewhat -large card, on which were written, in somewhat large letters, these -astounding words, “Very chaste--only five and three-pence.” Under -pretence of settling her turban, I removed the obnoxious notice. - -MRS. S. C. HALL: ‘Book of Memories.’ London: Virtue & Co., 1871. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Herself again.] - -We found Miss Mitford living literally in a cottage, neither _ornée_ -nor poetical--except inasmuch as it had a small garden crowded with the -richest and most beautiful profusion of flowers--where she lives with -her father, a fresh, stout old man who is in his seventy-fifth year. -She herself seemed about fifty, short and fat, with very gray hair, -perfectly visible under her cap, and neatly arranged in front. She has -the simplest and kindest of manners, and entertained us for two hours -with the most animated conversation, and a great variety of anecdotes, -without any of the pretensions of an author by profession, and without -any of the stiffness that generally belongs to single ladies of her age -and reputation. - -GEORGE TICKNOR: _Journal_, July 26th, 1835, in ‘Life, Letters and -Journals.’ Boston: J. R. Osgood & Co., 1876. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Her one complaint of her father.] - -My father--very kind to me in many respects, very attentive if I’m ill, -very solicitous that my garden should be nicely kept, that I should -go out with him and be amused--is yet, so far as art, literature and -the drama are concerned, of a temper infinitely difficult to deal -with. He hates and despises them, and all their professors ...; and is -constantly taunting me with my “friends” and my “people” (as he calls -them), reproaching me if I hold the slightest intercourse with author, -editor, artist, or actor, and treating with frank contempt every one -not of a certain station in the county. I am entirely convinced that he -would consider Sir Thomas Lawrence, Sir Walter Scott, and Mrs. Siddons -as his inferiors. Always this is very painful--strangely painful. - -MARY RUSSELL MITFORD: _Letter to Rev. William Harness_, in the former’s -‘Life,’ by L’Estrange. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Hard life.] - -After frittering away the whole day, incessantly on foot, or otherwise -fatiguing herself, at his beck and call, and receiving his friends, and -reading him to sleep in the afternoons till she had no voice left, the -hour came when she might put him to bed. But her own day’s work still -remained to be done. It was not a sort of work which could be done by -powers jaded like hers, without some stimulus or relief; and hence the -necessity of doses of laudanum to carry her through her task. When the -necessity ceased by the death of her father, her practice of taking -laudanum ceased; but her health had become radically impaired, and her -nervous system was rendered unfit to meet any such shock as that which -overthrew it at last. Miss Mitford so toiling by candle-light, while -the hard master who had made her his servant all day was asleep in the -next room, is as painful an instance of the struggles of human life as -the melancholy of a buffoon, or the heart-break--that “secret known to -all”--of a boasting Emperor of all the Russias. - -HARRIET MARTINEAU: ‘Biographical Sketches.’ New York: Leypoldt & Holt, -1869. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Miss Mitford in 1839.] - -Our coachman (who, after telling him that we were Americans, had -complimented us on speaking English, and “very good English, too,”) -professed an acquaintance of some twenty years’ standing with Miss M., -and assured us that she was “one of the dearest women in England,” and -the doctor (her father) “an ’earty old boy.” And when he reined his -horses up at her door, and she appeared to receive us, he said, “Now -you would not take that little body there for the great author, would -you?” and certainly we should have taken her for nothing more than a -kindly gentlewoman, who had never gone beyond the narrow sphere of the -most refined social life. Miss M. is truly a “little body,” and as -unlike as possible to the faces we have seen of her in the magazines, -which all have a broad humor bordering on coarseness. She has a -pale-gray, soul-lit eye, and hair as white as snow; a wintry sign that -has come prematurely upon her, as like signs come upon us while the -year is yet fresh and undecayed. Her voice has a sweet, low tone, and -her manner a natural frankness and affectionateness that we have been -so long familiar with in their other modes of manifestation that it -would have been indeed a disappointment not to have found them. - -She led us directly through her house into her garden, a perfect -bouquet of flowers. “I must show you my geraniums while it is light,” -she said, “for I love them next to my father.” - -CATHARINE M. SEDGWICK: ‘Letters from Abroad to Kindred at Home.’ New -York: Harper & Bros., 1841. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Looking back.] - -There used to be, and there no doubt still is, if I had but the courage -to go and look at it, a small, old-fashioned cottage at Three Mile -Cross, near Reading, which stood in a garden close to the road. A strip -of garden was on one side, a little pony-stable on the other, and the -larger part of the garden at the back. It was a comfortable-looking, -but still a real village cottage, with no town or suburb-look whatever -about it. Small lattice windows, below and above, with roses and -jasmine creeping round them all, established its rural character; and -there was a great buttress of a chimney rising from the ground at the -garden-strip side, which was completely covered with a very ancient and -very fine apricot tree. There the birds delighted to sit and sing among -the leaves, and build too, in several snug nooks, and there in early -autumn the wasps used to bite and bore into the rich ripe brown cracks -of the largest apricots, and would issue forth in rage when any one of -the sweetest of their property was brought down to the earth by the aid -of a clothes-prop, guided under the superintending instructions of a -venerable little gentlewoman in a garden-bonnet and shawl, with silver -hair, very bright hazel eyes, and a rose-red smiling countenance. -Altogether, it was one of the brightest faces any one ever saw. - -[Sidenote: Mr. Horne’s recollections.] - -“Now, my dear friend,” would she say, “if you will only attend to -my advice, you will get that apricot up there, which is quite in -perfection. I have had my eye upon it these last three weeks, wondering -nobody stole it. The boys often get over into the garden before any -of us are up. There now, collect all those leaves, if you will be so -good--and those too--and lay them all in a heap just underneath, so -that the apricot may fall upon them. If you don’t do that, it will -burst open with a thump. There! now push the prop up slowly, so as to -break the apricot from the stalk; and when it is down, do not be in too -great a hurry to take it up, as it’s sure to have a good large wasp or -two inside. Wasps are capital judges of ripe wall-fruit, as my dear -father used to say. A little lower with the prop! more to the left--now -just push the prong upwards, and gently lift--again--down it comes! -Mind the wasps! three, four--mind! perhaps that’s not all--five! I told -you so!”... “How angry they are!” - -“Not more, my dear, than you and I would have been under similar -circumstances.” - -[Sidenote: A bright face.] - -[Sidenote: Presence of mind.] - -I had not known Miss Mitford very long at this time; but it was her -habit to address all those with whom she was on intimate terms, by -some affectionate expression. For several years, however, I used to -pay a visit of a week or ten days to Miss Mitford’s cottage during the -strawberry season, and again during the middle of summer, when her show -of geraniums (she resisted all new nomenclatures) was at its height, -and sometimes later, when the wonderful old fruit-trees just retained -some half-dozen of their choicest treasures. It would be impossible -for any engraving or photograph, however excellent as to features, to -convey a true likeness of Mary Russell Mitford. During one of these -visits, Miss Charlotte Cushman was also staying at the cottage, and -exclaimed the first time Miss Mitford left the room, “What a bright -face it is!” The effect of summer brightness over all the countenance -was quite remarkable. A floral flush overspread the whole face, which -seemed to carry its own light with it, for it was the same indoors -as out. The silver hair shone, the forehead shone, the cheeks shone, -and above all, the eyes shone. The expression was entirely genial, -cognoscitive, beneficent. The outline of the face was an oblate round, -of no very marked significance beyond that of an apple, or other rural -“character”; in fact, it was very like a rosy apple in the sun. Always -excepting the forehead and chin. The forehead was not only massive, -but built in a way that sculpture only could adequately delineate.... -This build of head, and strong outline of head and face, will go far -to explain the strength of character displayed by Miss Mitford during -the early and most trying periods of her life, with her extravagant -and selfish father. It may also account for her general composure and -presence of mind, both on great occasions and others, trifling enough -to talk and write about, but of a kind to test the nerves of most -ladies. For instance, in driving Miss Mitford one day in her little -pony-chaise on a visit, she so riveted my attention on the special -point of a story, that I allowed one wheel to run into a dry ditch at -the roadside, and the pony-chaise must, of course, have turned over, -but that we were “brought up” by the hedge. “Hillo! my dear friend!” -said Miss Mitford; “we must get out.” We did so; the little trap was at -once put on its proper course, and, without one word of comment, the -bright-faced old lady took up the thread of her story. - -R. H. HORNE: ‘Letters of Elizabeth Barrett Browning, addressed to -Richard Hengist Horne.’ (With a Preface and Memoir by R. H. Stoddard.) -New York: James Miller, 1877. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: James T. Fields’ visit.] - -The cottage where I found her was situated on the high road between -Basingstoke and Reading; and the village street on which she was -then living contained the public-house and several small shops near -by. There was also close at hand the village pond full of ducks and -geese, and I noticed several young rogues on their way to school -were occupied in worrying their feathered friends. The windows of -the cottage were filled with flowers, and cowslips and violets were -plentifully scattered about the little garden. Miss Mitford liked to -have one dog, at least, at her heels, and this day her pet seemed to be -constantly under foot. I remember the room into which I was shown was -sanded, and a quaint old clock behind the door was marking off the hour -in small but very loud pieces. The cheerful old lady called to me from -the head of the stairs to come up into her sitting-room. I sat down by -the open window to converse with her, and it was pleasant to see how -the village children, as they went by, stopped to bow and courtesy. -One curly-headed urchin made bold to take off his well-worn cap, and -wait to be recognized as “little Johnny.” “No great scholar,” said -the kind-hearted old lady to me, “but a sad rogue among our flock of -geese. Only yesterday the young marauder was detected by my maid with -a plump gosling stuffed half-way into his pocket!” While she was thus -discoursing of Johnny’s peccadilloes, the little fellow looked up with -a knowing expression, and very soon caught in his cap a ginger-bread -dog, which the old lady threw to him from the window. “I wish he loved -his book as well as he relishes sweetcake,” sighed she, as the boy -kicked up his heels and disappeared down the lane. - -JAMES T. FIELDS: ‘Yesterdays with Authors.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Leaves Three Mile Cross for Swallowfield.] - -The poor cottage was crumbling around us, and if we had stayed much -longer we should have been buried in the ruins. And yet it was great -grief to go. Besides my general aversion to new habitations, I had -associations with those old walls which endeared them to me more than -I can tell. There I had toiled and striven, and tasted of bitter -anxiety.... There in the fulness of age, I had lost those whose love -had made my home sweet and precious.... Other recollections, less dear -and less sad, added their interest to the place. Friends many and kind; -strangers, whose names were an honor, had come to that bright garden, -and that garden room.... It was a heart-tug to leave that garden. - -I walked from the one cottage to the other on an autumn evening, when -the vagrant birds, whose habit of assembling here for their annual -departure, gives, I suppose, the name of Swallowfield to the village, -were circling and twittering over my head.... Here I am in the -prettiest village, in the snuggest and cosiest of all snug cabins; a -trim cottage garden, divided by a hawthorn hedge from a little field -guarded by grand old trees; a cheerful glimpse of the high-road in -front, just to hint that there is such a thing as a peopled world; -and on either side the deep silent lanes that form the distinctive -character of English scenery. - -MARY RUSSELL MITFORD: ‘Recollections of a Literary Life.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Miss Martineau did not like her.] - -I must say that personally I did not like her so well as I liked her -works. The charming _bonhomie_ of her writings appeared at first -in her conversation and manners; but there were other things which -presently sadly impaired its charm. It is no part of my business to -pass judgment on her views and modes of life. What concerned me was -her habit of flattery, and the twin habit of disparagement of others. -I never knew her respond to any act or course of conduct which was -morally lofty. She could not believe in it, nor, of course, enjoy -it; and she seldom failed to “see through” it, and to delight in her -superiority to admiration. She was a devoted daughter, where the duty -was none of the easiest; and servants and neighbors were sincerely -attached to her. The little intercourse I had with her was spoiled by -her habit of flattery; but I always fell back on my old admiration of -her as soon as she was out of sight, and her ‘Village’ rose up in my -memory. - -HARRIET MARTINEAU: ‘Autobiography.’ Boston: Houghton, Mifflin & Co., -1877. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: “Not flattery prepense.”] - -I never say one word more than appears to me to be true. To be sure, -there is an atmosphere of love--a sunshine of fancy--in which objects -appear clearer and brighter; and from such I may sometimes paint; but -that is not flattery prepense, is it, my dear friend? I never mean -to flatter--no, never! But it is a great pleasure to me to love and -admire, and it is a faculty which has survived many frosts and storms. - -MARY RUSSELL MITFORD: _Letter to Sir William Elford_ in the former’s -‘Life,’ by L’Estrange. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Visited by Americans.] - -I suppose she was one of the earliest English authors who was -“interviewed” by the Americans. She was far from democratic, but always -spoke of that nation with great respect. What impressed me much more -was her admiration for Louis Napoleon; upon which point, as on many -others, we soon agreed to differ. She even approved of the _coup -d’état_, concerning which she writes to me, a little apologetically, -“My enthusiasm is always ready laid, you know, like a housemaid’s -fire”; which was very true. - -JAMES PAYN: ‘Some Literary Recollections.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Enthusiasm.] - -Carlyle tells us, “Nothing so lifts a man from all his men -imprisonments, were it but for moments, as true admiration”; and Miss -Mitford admired to such an extent that she must have been lifted in -this way nearly all her lifetime. Indeed she erred, if she erred at -all, on this side, and over-praised and over-admired everything and -everybody whom she regarded. When she spoke of Beranger, or Dumas, or -Hazlitt, or Holmes, she exhausted every term of worship and panegyric. -Louis Napoleon was one of her most potent crazes.... Although she had -been prostrated by the hard work and increasing anxieties of forty -years of authorship, when I saw her she was as fresh and independent as -a skylark. She was a good hater as well as a good praiser, and she left -nothing worth saving in an obnoxious reputation.... I have heard her go -on in her fine way, giving preference to certain modern poems far above -the works of the great masters of song. Pascal says that “the heart has -reasons that reason does not know”; and Miss Mitford was a charming -exemplification of this wise saying. - -JAMES T. FIELDS: ‘Yesterdays with Authors.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Devotion to her father.] - -Nothing ever destroyed her faith in those she loved. If I had not -known all about him (from my own folks of another generation who had -known him well), I should have thought her father had been a patriot -and a martyr. She spoke of him as if there had never been such a -father--which in a sense was true. He had spent his wife’s fortune, and -then another, and then the £10,000 [sic] which “little Mary” herself -had got for him by hitting on the lucky number in a lottery, and was -rapidly getting through her own modest earnings in the same free-handed -manner, when good fortune removed him; but she always deemed it an -irreparable loss. “I used to contrive to keep our house in order,” she -would say, speaking of her literary gains, “and a little pony-carriage, -and my dear, dear father.” To my mind he seemed like a Mr. Turveydrop, -but he had really been a most accomplished and agreeable person, though -with nothing sublime about him except his selfishness. - -[Sidenote: Prejudices.] - -She had the same exaggerated notions of the virtues and talents of -her friends (including myself); nay, her sympathies even extended -to _their_ friends, whom she did not know. Of course she had her -prejudices by way of complement; and when she spoke of those who -did not please her, her tongue played about their reputations like -sheet-lightning--for there was much more flash than fork in it. - -JAMES PAYN: ‘Some Literary Recollections.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: A country lady.] - -She was a “country lady,” and if she caught any author growing a -snowdrop and crocus at the wrong time of the year, he never recovered -a place in her memory. On a certain occasion she had been speaking of -the rabbit-shooting at Bear Wood; and afterwards happening to propose -a visit there, I inadvertently remarked that I should be very happy -to accompany her, but that of late years I had taken to gymnastic -exercises, and quite given up all field-sports--besides, “I didn’t -care for rabbit-shooting.” It was the wrong season!--and the look and -exclamation that followed showed me that I had lost something of my -position in her mind forever. - -RICHARD HENGIST HORNE: ‘Letters of Elizabeth Barrett Browning to R. H. -Horne.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Tranquil old age.] - -I think I should have recognized her anywhere. The short, plump body, -the round, cheerful old face, with cheeks still as rosy as a girl’s, -the kindly blue eyes, the broad, placid brow, and bands of silver -hair peeping from beneath the quaint frilled cap, seemed to be all -features of the picture which I had previously drawn in my mind. But -for a gay touch in the ribbons, and the absence of the book-muslin -handkerchief over the bosom, she might have been taken for one of those -dear old Quaker ladies, whose presence, in its cheerful serenity, is an -atmosphere of contentment and peace. Her voice was sweet, round, and -racy, with a delicious archness at times. Sitting in deep arm-chairs, -on opposite sides of the warm grate, while the rain lashed the panes -and the autumn leaves drifted outside, we passed the afternoon in -genial talk. - -BAYARD TAYLOR: ‘At Home and Abroad.’ New York: G. P. Putnam, 1862. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Conversation and voice.] - -She was always cheerful, and her talk is delightful to remember. From -girlhood she had known and had been intimate with most of the prominent -writers of her time, and her observations and reminiscences were so -shrewd and pertinent that I have scarcely known her equal. Her voice -had a peculiar ringing sweetness in it, rippling out sometimes like -a beautiful chime of silver bells; and when she told a comic story, -hitting off some one of her acquaintances, she joined in with the -laugh at the end with great heartiness and _naïveté_. When listening -to anything that interested her, she had a way of coming into the -narrative with “Dear me, dear me, dear me,” three times repeated, which -it was very pleasant to hear. - -JAMES T. FIELDS: ‘Yesterdays with Authors.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Voice and laugh.] - -I seem to see the dear little old lady now, looking like a venerable -fairy, with bright sparkling eyes, a clear, incisive voice, and a -laugh that carried you away with it. I never saw a woman with such an -enjoyment of--I was about to say a joke, but the word is too coarse for -her--of a pleasantry. - -JAMES PAYN: ‘Some Literary Recollections.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: “Heart-whole.”] - -The remark has often been made that we meet with no romance in Miss -Mitford’s history--no trace of even a passing predilection or an -unfortunate attachment. In her earlier years she was sometimes twitted -about partialities for her cousin, Bertram Mitford, and others, but -no impression seems to have been made. That she was heart-whole was -evident, for she could be jocose on the subject. - -REV. A. G. L’ESTRANGE: ‘Friendships of Mary Russell Mitford.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: A helping hand.] - -She was constantly saying good words for unfledged authors who were -struggling forward to gain recognition. No one ever lent such a helping -hand as she did to the young writers of her country. - -JAMES T. FIELDS: ‘Yesterdays with Authors.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: In old age.] - -I can never forget the little figure rolled up in two chairs in the -little Swallowfield room, packed round with books up to the ceiling, on -to the floor--the little figure with clothes on, of course, but of no -recognized or recognizable pattern; and somewhere out of the upper end -of the heap, gleaming under a great, deep, globular brow, two such eyes -as I never, perhaps, saw in any other Englishwoman--though I believe -she must have had French blood in her veins to breed such eyes, and -such a tongue; for the beautiful speech which came out of that ugly (it -was that) face, and the glitter and depth too of the eyes, like live -coals--perfectly honest the while, both lips and eyes--these seemed to -me to be attributes of the highest French, or rather Gallic, not of -the highest Englishwoman. In any case, she was a triumph of mind over -matter, of spirit over flesh. - -CHARLES KINGSLEY: _Letter to James Payn_, quoted in ‘Some Literary -Recollections.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Pride in her plays.] - -She was much more proud of her plays (which had even then been -well-nigh forgotten) than of the works by which she was so well known, -and which at that time brought people from the ends of the earth to see -her. - -JAMES PAYN: ‘Some Literary Recollections.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Greater values of her tales.] - -I was early fond of her tales and descriptions, and have always -regarded her as the originator of that new style of “graphic -description” to which literature owes a great deal, however weary we -may sometimes have felt of the excess in to which the practice of -detail has run. Miss Austen has claims to other and greater honors; but -she and Miss Mitford deserve no small gratitude for rescuing us from -the folly and bad taste of slovenly indefiniteness in delineation. Miss -Mitford’s tales appealed to a new sense, as it were, in a multitude of -minds--greatly to the amazement of the whole circle of publishers who -had rejected, in her works, as good a bargain as is often offered to -publishers. Miss Mitford showed me at once that she undervalued her -tales, and rested her claims on her plays. I suppose everybody who -writes a successful tragedy must inevitably do this. Miss Mitford must -have possessed some dramatic requisites, or her success could not have -been so decided as it was; but my own opinion always was that her mind -wanted the breadth, and her character the depth, necessary for genuine -achievement in the highest enterprise of literature. - -HARRIET MARTINEAU: ‘Autobiography.’ - - * * * * * - -Her ‘Belford Regis’ should probably take rank as her best work; it -has most power and most character; and is somewhat less uniformly -soft and green than ‘Our Village’ is. The ‘Village,’ however, is, by -association, my favorite. If read by snatches, it comes on the mind as -the summer air and the sweet hum of rural sounds would float upon the -senses through an open window in the country, and leaves with you for -the whole day a tradition of fragrance and dew. She is in fact a sort -of prose Crabbe in the sun, but with more grace and less strength; and -also with a more steadfast look upon scenic nature--never going higher -than the earth to look for the beautiful, but always finding it as -surely as if she went higher. She is “matter-of-fact,” she says, which -may be so, but then she idealizes matter of fact before she touches it, -and thus her matter of fact is as beautiful as the matter of fantasy of -other people. - -[Sidenote: Mrs. Browning’s estimate.] - -In my own mind--and Mr. Kenyon agrees with me--she herself is better -and stronger than any of her books; and her letters and conversation -show more grasp of intellect and general power than would be inferable -from her finished compositions. In her works, however, through all the -beauty there is a clear vein of sense, and a quickness of observation -which takes the character of a refined shrewdness. Do you not think so? -And is she not besides most intensely a woman, and an Englishwoman? - -ELIZABETH BARRETT: ‘Letters of Elizabeth Barrett Browning to R. H. -Horne.’ New York: James Miller, 1877. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: ‘Our Village.’] - -I think you will like ‘Our Village.’... Charles Lamb (the matchless -‘Elia’ of the _London Magazine_) says that nothing so fresh and -characteristic has appeared for a long while. It is not over-modest to -say this; but who would not be proud of the praise of such a _proser_? - -MARY RUSSELL MITFORD: _Letter to Sir Wm. Elford_, in the former’s -‘Life,’ by L’Estrange. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Fear of unconscious plagiarism.] - -I am very indulgent towards such borrowings in general, knowing -how extraordinary is the manner in which memory and invention are -sometimes mixed up, especially where the first faculty is weak. With -me it is singularly so, and for years I was tormented by constant fear -that every line of tragedy less bad than the next was stolen from my -letters. It was a miserable feeling. - -M. R. MITFORD: _Letter to Mr. D. Starkey_, in ‘Friendships of Mary -Russell Mitford.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: View of the moral purpose of fiction.] - -All that vile design of doing good, or making out this to be wrong -and that to be right, ... I hold ... to be the most fatal fault of -all fiction nowadays.... It was the one fault of Miss Edgeworth that -she wrote to a text. How much better she wrote without one she showed -in ‘Belinda.’ All the greatest writers of fiction are pure of that -sin--Chaucer, Shakespeare, Scott, Jane Austen; and are not these -precisely the writers who do most good as well as give most pleasure? - -M. R. MITFORD: _Letter to Mr. D. Starkey_, in ‘Friendships of Mary -Russell Mitford.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Religious belief.] - -There would be a tacit hypocrisy, a moral cowardice, if I were to stop -here, and not to confess, what I think you must suspect, although by -no chance do I ever talk about it--that I do not, or rather cannot, -believe all that the Church requires. I humbly hope that it is not -necessary to do so, and that a devout sense of the mercy of God, and an -endeavor, however imperfectly and feebly, to obey the great precepts -of justice and kindness, may be accepted in lieu of that entire faith -which, in me, _will not_ be commanded. You will not suspect me of -thoughtlessness in this matter; neither, I trust, does it spring -from intellectual pride. Few persons have a deeper sense of their -own weakness; few, indeed, can have so much weakness of character to -deplore and strive against. - -M. R. MITFORD: _Letter to Rev. Wm. Harness_, in the former’s ‘Life,’ by -L’Estrange. - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: A tedious illness.] - -[Sidenote: Continued pleasure in nature.] - -I am still very lame, carried, or rather lifted, step by step up and -down stairs and into bed, and unable to stir when recumbent, almost -to move when seated. Besides this, I am all over as sore as if I were -pounded in a mortar, and, although quite as cheerful as ever, yet -paying for temporary excitement by exceeding weakness afterwards. In -short, I am as infirm, as feeble, and as lively as it is well possible -for a woman to be. I am got into the air, and I enjoy it so much, that -I cannot but hope that it must eventually do me good. It seems to -me that never was the marriage of May and June, which is always the -loveliest moment of the year, so beautiful as now. The richness of -the foliage in our deep-wooded lanes, the perfume of the bean-fields, -the luxuriant blossoming of all sorts of flowering trees. I have some -lilacs of both colors, especially the white, which I would match -against those of which Horace Walpole was so fond at Strawberry Hill. - -M. R. MITFORD: _Letter to Mr. D. Starkey_, June 2nd, 1853, in -‘Friendships of Mary Russell Mitford.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Delighted with a glow-worm.] - -I must tell you what has three times befallen me this last week. My -maid K., in putting me to bed, burst into a storm of exclamations, all -referring to the candlestick; I looked, and saw nothing but a dingy -caterpillar about half an inch long. It moved, and a little bright -star of bluish greenish light was reflected on the silver. It was a -glow-worm! We extinguished the candle, and the candlestick was sent -to one of the grass-plots in the front of the house, and in about ten -minutes the beautiful insect had crawled out upon the turf. Four nights -after, exactly same thing occurred, and another glow-worm was found on -one of the lower windows. We can only account for these visits to the -candlestick by the circumstance of there being both nights a little jar -of fresh-gathered pinks upon the table.... K., who is full of pretty -sayings, will have it that, now that I--always so fond of those stars -of the earth--can no longer go to see them, they come to visit me. - -M. R. MITFORD: _Letter to Mr. D. Starkey_, July, 1853, in ‘Friendships -of Mary Russell Mitford.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Weaker and weaker.] - -The head is mercifully spared, but for above six months I have been -steadily growing worse and worse, and weaker and weaker. It is sad to -write so to you, but it is the truth. Champagne and nourishing food -keep me alive, and stimulating medicine. To-day is fine, and I sit by -my open window enjoying the balmy air, altogether too much sunk in the -chair to see more than the trees and the sky, and a bit of distant -road, but still enjoying _that_. My roses are very beautiful, and I -have many of the old moss, which are delicately sweet; and common white -pinks, almost like cloves in their fragrance. - -M. R. MITFORD: _Letter to Emily Jephson_, July 20, 1854, in -‘Friendships of Mary Russell Mitford.’ - - * * * * * - -[Sidenote: Characteristics strong to the very last.] - -The goodness shown to me often draws tears into my eyes. People whom -all the world knows, and yet more, people of whom I have never heard, -send to me whatever they think I shall like, call at my door, ... come -at any hour that I may appoint, if I be well enough to see them, and -never take offence at a refusal. There is a reality about this when it -has lasted above two years.... It has pleased Providence to preserve to -me my calmness of mind and clearness of intellect, and also my powers -of reading by day and by night, and, which is still more, my love of -poetry and literature, my cheerfulness and my enjoyment of little -things. This very day, not only my common pensioners the dear robins, -but a saucy troop of sparrows and a little shining bird of passage, -whose name I forget, have all been pecking at once at their tray of -bread-crumbs outside the window. Poor, pretty things! How much delight -there is in these common objects, if people would learn to enjoy them! - -M. R. MITFORD: _Letter to Mrs. Crowther_, January 1, 1855,[13] in -‘Friendships of Mary Russell Mitford.’ - - -FOOTNOTES: - -[13] She died on the 10th of January. - - - - - LIST OF WORKS QUOTED IN VOL. I. - - -ALISON.--Some Account of My Life and Writings: an Autobiography, by Sir -Archibald Alison. Edinburgh and London: Wm. Blackwood & Sons, 1883. -(Quoted on Maria Edgeworth.) - -ALLIBONE.--Dictionary of British and American Authors, by Samuel A. -Allibone. Philadelphia: J. B. Lippincott & Co., 1874. (For dates, etc.) - -_Atlantic Monthly._--Article on Jane Austen, by Mrs. Waterston, and -article on Shelley, by Thornton Hunt, in February number, 1863. - -AUSTEN.--Letters of Jane Austen, edited by Lord Brabourne. London: -Richard Bentley & Son, 1884. - -BROWNING.--Letters of Elizabeth Barrett Browning to R. H. Horne. New -York: James Miller, 1877. (Quoted on Mary R. Mitford.) - -BRYDGES.--Autobiography, Times, Opinions, and Contemporaries of Sir -Egerton Brydges. London: Cockrane and M’Crane, 1834. (Quoted on Jane -Austen.) - -BURNEY.--Diary and Letters of Frances Burney, Mme. D’Arblay, edited by -S. C. Woolsey. Boston: Roberts Bros., 1880. - -BYRON.--Letters and Journals of Lord Byron, edited by Thomas Moore. New -York: Harper & Bros., 1868. (Quoted on Maria Edgeworth.) - -CHORLEY.--Autobiography, Memoir and Letters of Henry F. Chorley. -London: Richard Bentley & Son, 1873. (Quoted on Lady Blessington.) - -CLARKE.--Recollections of Writers, by Charles and Mary Cowden Clarke. -New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons. (Quoted on Mary Shelley, Mary Lamb, -and Lady Blessington.) - -COLERIDGE.--Memoir and Letters of Sara Coleridge, edited by her -Daughter. New York: Harper & Bros., 1874. (Quoted on Mary Lamb, Jane -Austen, Joanna Baillie and Hannah More.) - -_Contemporary Review._--Miss Burney’s Novels, by Mary Elizabeth -Christie, in Dec. number, 1882. - -CROSS.--George Eliot’s Life, by J. W. Cross. New York: Harper & Bros., -1885. (Quoted on Hannah More.) - -DELANY.--Autobiography and Correspondence of Mrs. Delany, edited by S. -C. Woolsey. Boston: Roberts Bros., 1879. (Quoted on Frances Burney.) - -EDGEWORTH.--Memoirs of Richard Lovell Edgeworth, by Maria Edgeworth. -Boston: Wells & Lilly, 1821. - -ELWOOD.--Memoirs of the Literary Ladies of England, by Mrs. Elwood. -London: Henry Colburn, 1843. (Quoted on Hannah More and Mary -Wollstonecraft.) - -FARRAR.--Recollections of Seventy Years, by Eliza Farrar. Boston: -Ticknor & Fields, 1866. (Quoted on Maria Edgeworth and Joanna Baillie.) - -FIELDS.--Yesterdays with Authors, by James T. Fields. Boston: J. R. -Osgood & Co., 1872. (Quoted on Mary R. Mitford.) - - Barry Cornwall and Some of His Friends, by James T. Fields. Boston: - J. R. Osgood & Co., 1876. (Quoted on Lady Blessington.) - -FLETCHER.--Autobiography of Mrs. Fletcher. Boston: Roberts Bros., 1876. -(Quoted on Maria Edgeworth and Joanna Baillie.) - -_Frazer’s Magazine._--Recent Novels, by G. H. Lewes, in December -number, 1847. (Quoted on Jane Austen.) - -GASKELL.--Life of Charlotte Brontë, by E. C. Gaskell. New York: D. -Appleton & Co., 1858. (Quoted on Jane Austen.) - -GILCHRIST.--Mary Lamb, by Anne Gilchrist. (Famous Women Series.) -Boston: Roberts Bros., 1883. - -GILFILLAN.--A Second Gallery of Literary Portraits, by G. Gilfillan. -Edinburgh: James Hogg. London: R. Groombridge & Sons, 1850. (Quoted on -Mary Shelley.) - -HALL.--A Book of Memories of Great Men and Women of the Age, by (Mr. -and Mrs.) S. C. Hall. London: Virtue & Co., 1871. (Quoted on Maria -Edgeworth, Joanna Baillie, Lady Blessington, M. R. Mitford, and Hannah -More.) - - Retrospect of a Long Life, by S. C. Hall. New York: D. Appleton & Co., - 1883. (Quoted on Maria Edgeworth, M. R. Mitford and Lady Blessington.) - -_Harpers’ Bazar._--An anonymous article, quoted on Jane Austen. - -HAZLITT.--Sketches and Essays, and Winterslow, by Wm. Hazlitt. Edited -by W. Carew Hazlitt. London: Bell & Daldy, 1869. (Quoted on Mary -Wollstonecraft.) - -HAZLITT.--Mary and Charles Lamb: Poems, Letters and Remains, collected -by W. Carew Hazlitt. New York: Scribner, Welford & Armstrong, 1874. - -HOGG.--The Life of Percy Bysshe Shelley, by T. J. Hogg. London: Edward -Moxon, 1858. (Quoted on Mrs. Shelley.) - -HOLLAND.--Recollections of Past Life, by Sir Henry Holland. New York: -D. Appleton & Co., 1872. (Quoted on Mme. D’Arblay and Joanna Baillie.) - - Memoirs of Sidney Smith, by his Daughter, Lady Holland. London: - Longmans, Green & Co. (Quoted on Maria Edgeworth.) - -KNOWLES.--The Life and Writings of Henry Fuseli, by John Knowles. -London: Henry Colburn and Richard Bentley, 1831. (Quoted on Mary -Wollstonecraft.) - -LAMB.--Works of Charles Lamb, with Sketch by T. N. Talfourd. New York: -Harper & Bros., 1838. (Quoted on Mary Lamb and Mary Shelley.) - -LEIGH.--A Memoir of Jane Austen, by Her Nephew, Rev. J. E. -Austen-Leigh. London: Richard Bentley, 1870. - -L’ESTRANGE.--The Life of Mary Russell Mitford, edited by Rev. A. G. -L’Estrange. London: Richard Bentley, 1870. (Quoted on M. R. Mitford, -Maria Edgeworth, Jane Austen, and Frances Burney.) - - The Friendships of Mary Russell Mitford, edited by Rev. A. G. - L’Estrange. New York: Harper & Bros., 1882. - - The Literary Life of the Rev. Wm. Harness, by Rev. A. G. L’Estrange. - London: Hurst & Blackett, 1871. (Quoted on M. R. Mitford.) - -LOCKHART.--Memoirs of Sir Walter Scott, by J. G. Lockhart. Edinburgh: -Adam & Charles Black, 1871. (Quoted on Maria Edgeworth, Frances Burney, -Jane Austen and Joanna Baillie.) - -MACAULAY.--Critical and Historical Essays, by Lord Macaulay. New York: -Albert Mason, 1875. (Quoted on Frances Burney and Jane Austen.) - -MADDEN.--The Literary Life and Correspondence of the Countess of -Blessington, by R. R. Madden. New York: Harper & Bros., 1855. - -MARTINEAU.--Autobiography of Harriet Martineau. Boston: Houghton, -Mifflin & Co., 1877. (Quoted on Jane Austen, M. R. Mitford, and Joanna -Baillie.) - - Biographical Sketches, by Harriet Martineau. New York: Leypoldt & - Holt, 1869. (Quoted on M. R. Mitford.) - -MILLER.--Harriet Martineau, by Mrs. Fenwick Miller. (Famous Women -Series.) Boston: Roberts Bros., 1885. (Quoted on Jane Austen.) - -MITFORD.--Recollections of a Literary Life, by Mary Russell Mitford. -New York: Harper & Bros., 1852. (Quoted on M. R. Mitford and Jane -Austen.) - -MOORE.--Memoirs, Journal and Correspondence of Thomas Moore, edited -by Lord John Russell. London: Longman, Brown, Green & Longmans, 1854. -(Quoted on Maria Edgeworth.) - -OLIVER.--A Memoir of Anna L. Barbauld, by Grace A. Ellis (Oliver). -Boston: J. R. Osgood & Co., 1874. (Quoted on Frances Burney and Joanna -Baillie.) - - A Study of Maria Edgeworth, by Grace A. Oliver. Boston: A. Williams & - Co., 1882. - -OWEN.--The Autobiography of Robert Dale Owen. London: Effingham Wilson, -1857-8. (Quoted on Mary Shelley.) - -PATMORE.--My Friends and Acquaintance, by P. G. Patmore. London: -Saunders & Otley, 1854. (Quoted on Lady Blessington.) - -PAUL.--William Godwin, His Friends and Contemporaries, by C. Kegan -Paul. Boston: Roberts Bros., 1876. (Quoted on Mary Wollstonecraft and -Mary Shelley.) - -PAYN.--Some Literary Recollections, by James Payn. New York: Harper & -Bros., 1884. (Quoted on M. R. Mitford.) - -PENNELL.--Life of Mary Wollstonecraft, by Elizabeth Robins Pennell. -(Famous Women Series.) Boston: Roberts Bros., 1884. - -PROCTER.--Charles Lamb: a Memoir, by Barry Cornwall (Bryan W. Procter). -London: Edward Moxon & Co., 1866. (Quoted on Mary Lamb.) - -ROBERTS.--Memoirs of Hannah More, by W. Roberts. New York: Harper & -Bros., 1834. (Quoted on Hannah More and Mary Wollstonecraft.) - -ROBINSON.--Diary, Reminiscences and Correspondence of Henry Crabb -Robinson. Boston: J. R. Osgood & Co., 1871. (Quoted on Maria Edgeworth, -Mary Lamb, Joanna Baillie, and Lady Blessington.) - -SCOTT.--Miscellanies of Sir Walter Scott. (Vol. I.) Philadelphia: Carey -& Hart, 1841. (Quoted on Maria Edgeworth and Mary Shelley.) - -SEDGWICK.--Letters from Abroad to Kindred at Home, by Catherine M. -Sedgwick. New York: Harper & Bros., 1841. (Quoted on M. R. Mitford.) - -SHELLEY.--Shelley Memorials from Authentic Sources, edited by Lady -Shelley. London: Henry S. King & Co., 1875. - - Poetical Works of P. B. Shelley, with Notes by Mrs. Shelley. Boston: - Little, Brown & Co., 1857. - - Frankenstein, by Mary Shelley. Boston: Sever, Francis & Co., 1869. - -SIGOURNEY.--Pleasant Memories of Pleasant Lands, by Mrs. L. H. -Sigourney. Boston: James Munroe & Co., 1844. (Quoted on Maria -Edgeworth.) - -SOMERVILLE.--Personal Recollections, from Early Life to Old Age, -of Mary Somerville. Boston: Roberts Bros., 1874. (Quoted on Maria -Edgeworth.) - -SOUTHEY.--Life and Correspondence of Robert Southey, edited by Rev. C. -C. Southey. London: Longman, Brown, Green and Longmans, 1849. (Quoted -on Hannah More and Mary Wollstonecraft). - - Correspondence of Robert Southey with Caroline Bowles, edited by - Edward Dowden. London: Longmans, Green & Co., 1881. (Quoted on Mary - Wollstonecraft.) - -TALFOURD.--Final Memorials of Charles Lamb, by T. N. Talfourd. London: -Edward Moxon, 1848. (Quoted on Mary Lamb and Hannah More.) - -TAYLOR.--At Home and Abroad, by Bayard Taylor. New York: G. P. Putnam, -1862. - -TAYLOR.--Autobiography of Henry Taylor. London: Longmans, Green & Co., -1885. (Quoted on Jane Austen.) - -THOMPSON.--Life of Hannah More, by Henry Thompson. Philadelphia: Carey -& Hart, 1838. - -TICKNOR.--Life, Letters and Journals of George Ticknor. Boston: J. R. -Osgood & Co., 1876. (Quoted on Maria Edgeworth, Joanna Baillie, and -Mary Russell Mitford.) - -TRELAWNY.--Recollections of the Last Days of Shelley and Byron, by E. -J. Trelawny. Boston: Ticknor & Fields, 1858. - -TREVELYAN.--Life and Letters of T. B. Macaulay, by G. Otto Trevelyan. -New York: Harper & Bros., 1876. (Quoted on Hannah More.) - -TYTLER.--Jane Austen and Her Works, by Sarah Tytler. Cassell, & -Company, Limited. - - Songstresses of Scotland, by Sarah Tytler and J. L. Watson. London: - Strahan & Co., 1871. (Quoted on Joanna Baillie.) - -WALPOLE.--The Letters of Horace Walpole, Earl of Orford. London: -Henry G. Bohn, 1861. (Quoted on Hannah More, Frances Burney, and Mary -Wollstonecraft.) - -WILLIS.--Pencillings by the Way, by N. P. Willis. New York: Charles -Scribner, 1853. (Quoted on Lady Blessington.) - -WOLLSTONECRAFT.--A Vindication of the Rights of Woman, by Mary -Wollstonecraft. London: Printed for J. Johnson, 1792. - - Posthumous Works by the Author of a Vindication of the Rights of - Woman. London: Printed for J. Johnson, 1798. - - Mary Wollstonecraft’s Letters to Imlay, with Prefatory Memoir by C. - Kegan Paul. London: C. Kegan Paul & Co., 1879. - -ZIMMERN.--Maria Edgeworth, by Helen Zimmern. (Famous Women Series.) -Boston: Roberts Bros., 1883. - - - - - Transcriber’s Notes - -Errors in punctuation and spacing have been fixed. - -Page 205: “respectable and aimiable” changed to “respectable and -amiable” - -Page 206: “an hundreth time” changed to “an hundredth time” - - - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PEN-PORTRAITS OF LITERARY -WOMEN, VOLUME I (OF 2) *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ -concept and trademark. 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