BOOK II. CHARLOTTE LENNOX. CHAPTER V. AMONG the literary names preserved by Boswell and Horace Walpole, says Chambers's Encyclopædia, is that of Mrs. Charlotte Lennox (1720-1804). The first novel of this lady was celebrated with a sumptuous supper at the Devil's Tavern, where Dr. Johnson invested crowned by Dr. the authoress with a crown of laurel. Until 1788 Mrs. Lennox Johnson. Her works. existed the famous Devil's Tavern in Fleet Street, with Let none but guests or clubbers hither come; More for delight than cost prepare the feast. She wrote several novels, and some comedies, compiled and translated other works, probably for the sake of the money she could earn by them. Her name would hardly survive to this day but that Mrs. Barbauld allowed her a place in her excellent edition of the "British Novelists of the Eighteenth Century," published in 1800, a collection without which I should be lost in the pursuit of my favorite old books. Mrs. Barbauld says that Mrs. Lennox, "a very respectable writer, born at New York, was a diligent and successful author. Her exertions did not place her in easy circumstances, for she died poor in 1804." comment. Lady Mary Wortley, a voracious reader of "all the novels that had been invented" in her time, speaks of one and another of her books as they appear with friendly comment, but under the impression that they were written by her cousin, Sally Fielding, the sister of the brilliant author of "Tom Jones." Lady Mary says: Lady Mary's "The Art of Tormenting" and "The Female Quixote" are sale work. I suppose they proceed from her pen, and I heartily pity her, constrained by her circumstances to seek her bread by a method I do not doubt she despises. She has mended her style in the last volume of "David Simple," which conveys a useful moral, though she does not seem to have intended it. "David Simple" is such a "dreadful" stupid book that I myself have never succeeded in reaching the third volume. There is a slight reference to Charlotte Lennox in Fanny Burney's diary of August 26, 1778: Dr. Johnson gave us an account of Mrs. Lennox. Her "Female Quixote" is very justly admired here. But Mrs. Thrale says that though her books are generally approved, nobody likes her. I find she, among others, waited on Dr. Johnson upon her commencing writing, and he told us that at her request he carried her to Richardson. "Poor Charlotte Lennox!" continued he. "When we came to the house she desired me to leave her; 'for,' says she, 'I am under great restraint in your presence; but if you leave me alone with Richardson, I'll give you a very good account of him.' However, I fear she was disappointed, for she gave me no account at all." Miss Burney's reference. Poor Charlotte's "Sophia," "Henrietta," etc., are absolute rubbish, but the "Female Quixote," published The Female in 1752, and perpetuated by Mrs. Barbauld, is precious Quixote." for preserving to the world the best impression we have of what the old, old romances of the Calprénede and Scudéry school really were; sparing us an effort which even I am incapable of—that is, wading through the black volumes like those beloved of the old nurse in the Wortley family, and even of Lady Mary herself and her contemporaries. It is an agreeable and ingenious satire upon the old romances, and I really think it is written in a modern Account of the spirit, and that Arabella, the heroine, has more good heroine. stuff in her than other imaginary ladies of the time who have been more praised. She is supposed to have been brought up in the country and secluded from all society, but allowed to amuse herself in an old library furnished with the works of these voluminous authors. Of course she imbibes their views of life, and when she comes out into the world, possessed of beauty and fortune, it is with a pronounced ignorance of every circumstance of real life and manners. She fancies every man who speaks to her to be secretly in love with her, and is in constant apprehension of being forcibly carried off. The extracts I shall give are those which throw light upon the style of the older books, and, condensed as these extracts are, I am sure they will sufficiently impress the reader with a sense of their dulness, a dulness from which Mrs. Lennox in a measure rescued her readers by the vivacity of her heroine, who seems modern by contrast. The disadvantage of her book, as Mrs. Barbauld already observes, is that the satire has now no object. She says: Most young ladies of the present day, instead of requiring to be cured of reading those bulky romances, would acquire the first information of their manner (and we may now say of their existence) from the work designed to ridicule them. Mrs. Barbauld adds: The style of Mrs. Lennox is easy, but it does not rise to the elegance attained by many, more modern, female writers. "Henrietta" begins with the incident of two young ladies, who are perfect strangers to each other, meeting in a stage coach, when after a few minutes' conversation one of them exclaims, "Let us swear an eternal friendship"-the words taken from the "Anti-Jacobin," a satire, well known in its time, upon the sentimental German plays of Kotzebue and others. "Henrietta" is agreeably absurd, but not worth preserving. "Henrietta." Beginning of "The Female Quixote." Arabella's birth. THE Marquis of CHAPTER VI. for a long series of years, was the first and most distinguished favorite at court; he held the most honorable employments under the crown, disposed of all places of profit as he pleased, presided at the council, and, in a manner, governed the whole kingdom. This extensive authority could not fail of making him many enemies; he fell at last a sacrifice to the plots they were continually forming against him; and was not only removed from all his employments, but banished the court forever. The pain his undeserved disgrace gave him he was enabled to conceal by the natural haughtiness of his temper; and, behaving rather like a man who had resigned than been dismissed from his post, he imagined he triumphed sufficiently over the malice of his enemies, while he seemed to be wholly insensible of the effects it produced. His secret discontent, however, was so much augmented by the opportunity he now had of observing the baseness and ingratitude of mankind, which in some degree he experienced every day, that he resolved to quit all society whatever, and devote the rest of his life to solitude and privacy. For the place of his retreat he pitched upon a castle he had in a very remote province of the kingdom, in the neighborhood of a small village, and several miles distant from any town. The vast extent of ground which surrounded this noble building he had caused to be laid out in a manner peculiar to his taste; the most laborious endeavors of art had been used to make it appear like the beautiful product of wild uncultivated nature. But if this epitome of Arcadia could boast of only artless and simple beauties, the inside of the castle was adorned with a magnificence suitable to the dignity and immense riches of the owner. Here was Arabella born, and, after the early death of her mother, grew up in solitude except for the companionship of the marquis. Nature had, indeed, given her a most charming face, a shape |