Mention has before been made of the Abbé’s two sisters. The character of
one of them was so very singular, and her fortunes so bordering on the
romantic, that they ought not entirely to be passed over.
The sisters at first kept a school for young ladies, and as they
were clever and accomplished, and promised something of refinement,
beyond the ordinary level of provincial schools, they were for a time
very successful. But it is more than probable that this success was
interrupted and finally destroyed by the wayward and very eccentric
character and conduct of the younger. She was of the Wolstoncraft
school, a great stickler for the dignity of the sex, and the rights of
women. She was an authoress, a poetess, and afterwards an actress. She
exhibited the remarkable phænomenon of representing on the stage, the
principal character in a tragedy written by herself, which nevertheless
was damned. She printed a volume of poems by subscription, and her
conduct with respect to the printer, brings to mind a story of a simple
clergyman, which may as well be told first.
A poor vicar, in a very remote province, had, on some popular occasion,
preached a sermon so exceedingly acceptable to his parishioners, that
they entreated him to print it, which, after due and solemn deliberation,
he promised to do. This was the most remarkable incident of his life,
and filled his mind with a thousand fancies. The conclusion, however,
of all his consultations with himself was, that he should obtain both
fame and money, and that a journey to the metropolis, to direct and
superintend the great concern, was indispensable. After taking a formal
leave of his friends and neighbours, he proceeded on his journey. On his
arrival in town, by great good fortune he was recommended to the worthy
and excellent Mr. Bowyer, to whom he triumphantly related the object of
his journey. The printer agreed to his proposals, and required to know
how many copies he would choose to have struck off. “Why, Sir,” returned
the clergyman, “I have calculated that there are in the kingdom so many
thousand parishes, and that each parish will at least take one, and
others more; so that I think we may venture to print about thirty-five or
thirty-six thousand copies.”
The printer bowed, the matter was settled, and the Reverend author
departed in high spirits to his home. With much difficulty and great
self-denial, a period of about two months was suffered to pass, when his
golden visions so tormented his imagination, that he could endure it no
longer, and accordingly wrote to Mr. Bowyer, desiring him to send the
debtor and creditor account, most liberally permitting the remittances
to be forwarded at Mr. B.’s convenience. Judge of the astonishment,
tribulation, and anguish, excited by the receipt of the following
account, or something very much resembling it.
The Rev. ⸺
£. _s._ _d._
Cr.
By the sale of 17 copies of sermon 1 5 6
Dr.
By printing and paper, 35,000 copies of said sermon 785 5 6
------------
By balance due to Mr. Bowyer £784 0 0
They who know the character of this most amiable and excellent printer,
will not be at all surprized to hear, that in a day or two, a letter to
the following purport was forwarded to the clergyman.
Rev. Sir,
I beg pardon for innocently amusing myself at your expence,
but you need not give yourself uneasiness. I knew better than
you could do, the extent of the sale of single sermons, and
accordingly printed but 50 copies, to the expence of which you
are heartily welcome, in return for the liberty I have taken
with you, &c. &c.
Very similar to the conduct of this clergyman, was that of the young
lady of whom we have been speaking. She sent for the printer, and giving
him the manuscript, desired him to strike off a thousand copies. The
manuscript contained enough for a tolerably thick volume of royal octavo.
The printer himself represents the succeeding dialogue to have taken
place.
“Have you made any estimate of the expence?”
“No; but I _must_ have a thousand copies.”
“How many subscribers have you?”
“About two hundred; but I know, indeed I have no doubt, of an extensive
sale. I _must_ have a thousand copies.”
“Perhaps, Madam, you may not be aware, that of your two hundred
subscribers, all will not send for their copies, and of those who do,
some will not send the money; that the expence is immediate, as no long
credit can be given; so that, after the first advertisements, the poems
of an unknown author are generally considered as waste paper.”
“It does not signify, Sir, I _must_ and _will_ have a thousand copies.”
The result may be easily anticipated; a thousand copies were actually
printed, but after a lapse of several years, no less than seven hundred
and fifty still groaned upon the shelves of the printer’s warehouse.
This was a most extraordinary young lady. She certainly possessed
considerable talents, but she was vain, conceited, and pragmatical;
and, as was before observed, a worthy disciple of the Wolstoncraftian
school. Having failed as a teacher, as an authoress, and, above all, as
an actress, she offered herself and was accepted as a governess in the
family of a lady, who had formerly been brought up by her sister and
herself. The lady was of an old and considerable family, and heiress to a
large property; her husband was the elder son of a baronet, of no great
pretensions on the score of intellect, but a well meaning, good sort of a
man. Till the governess came among them, the family had lived tranquilly
together, with no other or greater interruptions than are found to occur
in all families. No sooner had the poetess entered upon her office, than
she took it into her head, that delicacy was offended by the familiarity
and unconcealed affection, with which her quondam pupil outwardly treated
her husband. She endeavoured to persuade the wife that this was highly
indecorous, and unhappily she but too well succeeded. Her familiarity
was turned into cold civility, her affection changed into a reserved
demeanour, and the whole character of her behaviour assumed a new form.
The husband was not insensible of the alteration, which at first excited
his astonishment, and afterwards his indignation. On discovering the
cause, he very naturally insisted that the governess should be dismissed.
The foolish wife, however, resisted this, and so implicated her own case
with that of her counsellor, that she declared one would not go without
the other. The husband was firm, and the result was, that the indiscreet
wife sacrificed three young children, and the society of her husband,
with whom she had hitherto lived happily, to share with her female friend
the disgrace, contempt, and privations, which accompanied their departure.
The husband instituted different suits in Doctors Commons, for the
establishment of his just rights, in every one of which, the decisions,
as might be expected, were in his favour. The fugitives at length
found it expedient to retire from Great Britain to a remote island in
its dependencies, where they lived, and may perhaps yet live, victims
of self-reproach, of the grossest folly, and most unjustifiable
perverseness. The name of this sage female counsellor, ought perhaps
to be published by way of punishment. It was, however, printed in the
proceedings of the Consistorial Court, where her conduct was most
severely animadverted upon, by the Judge who presided. It is withheld in
this place, merely from respect to the memory of her deceased brother.
Si lucri quid detur rem divinam deseram.