Her play of "Such Things Are," put on the stage by Harris in the following year, and ordered by George III. and Queen Charlotte on the sixth night, was founded to a certain extent on the career of the then living philanthropist Howard, called by her Haswell. One of the incidents in the play is the theft of Haswell's pocket-book by a slave in a dungeon which he is visiting on his errands of charity. It was an odd coincidence that Howard himself returned to England while this drama was running, and that during the coach journey from Canterbury he was robbed of a case containing papers and jewels.

bald might have been assured that, | tons', and her sympathetic imagination even had his principles been higher, may have found something inspiriting his matrimonial views, as a man of in the associations with Steele and fashion and a politician, would be very Addison and their brother wits by different. Five years the intimate ac- which she was surrounded. quaintance between them continued, letters being constantly exchanged during the intervals between his frequent visits. Sometimes Sir Charles offended her by breaking an appointment or by an appearance of indifference, but he was always forgiven, and Mrs. Inchbald indulged her dream until, in 1791, some very serious explanation took place, which made her extremely melancholy, and Sir Charles was relegated to the position of a mere acquaintance. During these years of delusion Mrs. Inchbald sadly needed the kind and wise support which Mr. Glover might have afforded her. Too warm a heart and too open a hand led her to make some undesirable acquaintances whom she could not be induced to give up on the ground of a prudence which she considered selfish, and made her the prey of all the impecunious. Her brother George, who had married an actress, but quitted the stage on his mother's death for the farm at StandIt is not possible to follow Mrs. Iuchingfield, failed disastrously. Mrs. Inch-bald step by step through the work and bald had settled her own share of what her mother had to leave on her sisters, but this by no means relieved her from family calls. Mr. Twiss came to the rescue of her brother, whose difficulties were beyond her unaided arbitration. Her stepson, George Inchbald, of whom she had been very fond, made many starts in life, failing in all, and coming to her at each crisis for assistance; and her own health had for many years been so fluctuating, and her frequent illnesses so severe, that it is astonishing that she could have found strength for her continuous labors as author and actress.

In 1786 she produced, under Colman's auspices, a successful farce called "The Widow's Vow." She was at that time living in the second floor of the house that had been Butprobably repent this step, like his motions." (Letters of Horace Walpole. Bentley & Son, edit. 1891. Vol. iii., p. 489.)

A translation from the French play "Guerre Ouverte," called by Mrs. Inchbald "The Midnight Hour," was her next triumph, to the wrath of Lady Wallace and the courteously expressed disappointment of Mr. MacMahon, each of whom was engaged in translating the same comedy.

pleasure of the next few years, but one entry in her journal for 1788 is too characteristic to be passed over:

On the 29th of June (Sunday) dined,
drank tea, and supped with Mrs. Whitfield.
At dark she and I and her son William
Street and King Street and ran away.
I rapped at doors in New

walked out.

Kemble's "dear muse "" had then arrived at the responsible age of thirtyfive.

Hard-working women - and men too especially the brain-workers in all departments, frequently find their most disinterested and generous friends in their doctors; and 1788 also inaugurated Mrs. Inchbald's friendship for Dr. Warren, who, first consulted by her on professional subjects only, soon became one of her most trusted advisers ; and whom she grew to regard with such romantic tenderness that she would walk up and down Sackville

-

Street at night merely to see whether | sonal independence more unusual then
there were lights in his rooms, and his than they would be now, his friendship
shadow might cross the windows. for whom partook of the jealous ardor
Having been told that a certain shop of passion, and was in strong contrast.
window contained a portrait of her to the cold philosophy on which he
physician, she ran out before breakfast piqued himself. In 1790 Godwin read
to look at it; purchased it a few days and criticised her "Simple Story,'
"aud
afterwards, and entered in her jour- Mr. Kegan Paul says its "plot was in
nal:
a measure altered in deference to his
"Read, worked, and looked at my advice." One would like to know what
print."
were the changes made in that charm-
Notwithstanding all her toils and all ing tale at his suggestion. It was
her successes, she was so handicapped | published in the following year by Rob-
by the incessant demands made upon inson, who gave her £200 for it, Wood-
her, principally by her sisters Dolly fall (of "Junius" notoriety) being the
and Debby (the former apparently printer in the first place; his famous.
helpless, the latter worthless), that her newspaper, according to Boaden, inter-
home at this time was a single room up fered with other business, and Mrs.
two pair of stairs in Frith Street, in Inchbald's novel was transferred to
which she sat with her shutters closed, Cooper; but she continued on amica--
that no distraction from without should ble terms with Woodfall, aud mentions-
withdraw her thoughts from business. with pleasure a day spent at his beauti-
Here her familiar friends were some- ful house at Barnes.
times admitted, whilst titled visitors The "Simple Story" appeared in
and others on ceremonious terms were February, and a second edition was
shown into her landlady's drawing-ordered in March. It has become a
classic, and nothing need here be said
in praise of its pathos, its knowledge of
human nature, and the epigrammatic
touches in which it abounds.
novel brought her not only money and
fame, but a flock of new friends,
amongst whom were Mr. Phillips, the
king's surgeon, and his family, and
Mrs. Dobson (the translator of Pe-
trarch), who presented Mrs. Inchbald
with an Eolian harp.

room.

The

FOL

the

3

Soon after settling in London Mrs. Inchbald met that singular man Thomas Holcroft, ex-cobbler, democrat, dramatist, journalist, novelist, who, like every one who saw her, was interested and charmed. He gave her much advice, some good, some bad, with regard to her plays, and introduced her to a large and mixed group of acquaintances. Their friendship knew many vicissitudes. Sometimes they quarIn curious. contrast with the lists of relled, sometimes they parted forever, noble and wealthy admirers who now sometimes he addressed her in verses sought her acquaintance, we read of breathing passionate admiration. On her distress and perplexity when comone occasion she broke off her acquaint-pelled to leave her Frith Street garret ance with him, disapproving of a novel owing to the bankruptcy of her landhe had just published. But when, lady. At last she found an unfurshortly afterwards, he was committed nished room in Leicester Fields in the to Newgate for high treason, she immediately took Robinson the publisher there to visit him, and see what could be done to soften his captivity.

house of a man appropriately (to her
dramatic pursuits) named Shakespear.
The servant was not allowed to give
the new lodger any assistance, and she
plaintively chronicles: "I was above
an hour striking a light; fetched water
up three pair of stairs, and dropped a
few tears into the stream as any other
wounded deer might do." But there

Godwin, as we have seen, was also a member of her London circle, and she speedily took a prominent place in that cluster of brilliant and beautiful women, leading unconventional lives under conditions of intellectual and per- were alleviatious.

Sir Joshua Rey

nolds was her opposite neighbor, and | occasioned an immense sale for the she delighted in the enclosed planta- play when published by Robinson. tion, with private walks," which formed the centre of the square.

Mrs. Shelley, in the notes she appended to her father's papers, when she contemplated writing his biography, comments on the conflicting elements which made Mrs. Inchbald's life and character so interesting:

While living in Leicester Square shie received a visit from Mrs. Opie, then Amelia Alderson, who told Mrs. Taylor, her accomplished Norwich friend and correspondent, that she found Mrs. Inchbald

I last saw her.

As pretty as ever, and much more easy and unreserved in her manner than when With her we passed an hour, and when I took my leave she begged I would call on her again. She is in charming lodgings, and has just received two hundred pounds from Sheridan for a farce containing sixty pages only.3

Mrs. Inchibald's second novel, “Nature and Art," published in 1794, never attained the popularity of the "Simple Story; "it is hardly more than known by name now. But Leigh Hunt quotes some powerful scenes from it, and says,

Passages more beautiful and pathetic than those which we have selected are not to be found in the whole range of English prose.

Living in mean lodgings, dressed with an economy allied to penury, without connections, and alone, her beauty, her talents, and the charm of her manners gave her entrance to a delightful circle of society. Apt to fall in love and desirous to marry, she continued single because the men who loved and admired her were too worldly to take an actress and a poor author, however lovely and charming, for a wife. Her life was thus spent in an interchange of hardship and amusement, privation and luxury. Her character partook of the same contrast. Fond of pleasure, she was prudent in her conduct; penurious in her personal expenditure, she was generous to others. Vain of her beauty, the gown she wore was not worth a shilling. Very susceptible to the A great sorrow, to which was added softer feelings, she yet could guard against the sting of self-reproach, befell her passion; and though she might have been this year, in the death, under deplorcalled a flirt her character was unim-able circumstances, of her sister Debby. peached.1 Mrs. Inchbald had helped her repeatHer next production was The Wed-edly; but on one occasion, disgusted at ding Day," written for Mrs. Jordan, who was pleased with it, and purchased by Sheridan for £200.2 In 1792 she resisted Kemble's persuasions to accept au engagement at Drury Lane, and devoting her thoughts to authorship, wrote herself, at the close of the year: "Cheerful, content, and sometimes rather happy."

66

the mode of life from which no arguments or persuasions could withdraw her, she refused to see her. On hearing of Debby's illness, Mrs. Inchbald hastened to supply her with every possible help and comfort; but after its fatal termination she bitterly reproached herself for having once turned her sister from her door, when she was a Her next comedy, "Every One Has suppliant and perhaps a penitent." His Fault," produced at Covent Garden | Another family tragedy occurred in the in January, 1793, with brilliant success, following year. Her brother George, was attacked in the True Briton for after his failures as actor and farmer, containing seditious sentiments. She had been living for some time in an defended herself with spirit in one of inn at Hamburg with a friend named Woodfall's papers, and the controversy Webber. They quarrelled, fought a duel, and George was shot dead. Web

1 William Godwin, his Friends and Contempo-ber was captured and imprisoned. raries. King &, Co., 1876. Vol. i., p. 74.

2 There was a delay (puzzling to any one unacquainted with Sheridan) in the payment for this farce. At last Kemble called to explain that the manager had lost it, and if she would send another copy, the money should be forthcoming. For a wonder, it was.

Mrs. Inchbald saw much of the Kem

8 Memorials of the Life of Amelia Opie, by Cecilia Second edition. Lucy Brightwell. Longmans, 1854. P. 43.

• Book for a Corner. Bohn. Vol. i., p. 130.

I have heard that a rival beauty pettishly

complained that when Mrs. Inchbald came into a room and sat in a chair in the middle of it, as was her wont, every man gathered round it, and it was vain for any other woman to attempt to gain attention.

It is not surprising to find that she was soon again one of the guests at Stanmore Priory.

tion of Me."

Boaden attributes it to

Mrs. Inchbald never appeared to less advantage than on the death of Mary Wollstonecraft, which occurred in 1797. She strongly disapproved of Godwin's marriage to the author of "The Rights of Woman," for reasons not made clear in Mr. Kegan Paul's account of the quarrel that followed; but if Godwin's own letters speak correctly, her conduct was certainly ungenerous, and her letters to him after his wife's death are singularly unsympathetic, and compare ill with Godwin's dignified expression of heartfelt grief. She tells him in effect that he will very soon forget his sorrow, and that had Mrs. Godwin lived longer he might have added remorse to regret!

Lawrence was now one of Mrs. Inchbald's friends, and painted her portrait, as did several less famous artists. Rogers, too, sharp-tongued, but kindhearted and generous beyond contem

Amongst Mrs. Inchbald's papers was one written about this time, and indorsed in her own writing, "Descrip-porary belief, was much interested in her. Curran, after sending her "his Charles Moore, who will be heard of admiration," called at her rooms, and made an attempt to reconcile her to again later. Godwin, not at that time effectual. Lady Cork invited her to dinner, adding:

Age: between thirty and forty, which in the register of a lady's birth means a little turned of thirty. Height: above the middle size and rather tall. Figure: handsome and striking in its general air, but a little too stiff and erect. Shape: rather too fond of sharp angles. Skin: by nature fair, though a little freckled, and with a tinge of sand, which is the color of her eyelashes, but made coarse by ill-treatment upon her cheeks and arms. Hair: of a sandy auburn, and rather too straight as well as

thin.

Face: beautiful in effect, and beautiful in every feature. Countenance: full of spirit and sweetness; excessively interesting, and, without indelicacy, voluptu

ous.

Dress: always becoming, and very

seldom worth so much as eightpence.

1 Fanny Kemble relates an amusing encounter with one of Mrs. Inchbald's acquaintances in the "great" world: "An aristocratic neighbor of hers, driving with his daughter in the vicinity of her very

humble residence, overtook her walking along the road one very hot day, and stopping his carriage, asked her to let him have the pleasure of taking her home. She instantly declined, with the characteristic excuse that she had just come from the market gardener's, 'And, my lord, I-I-I have my pocket f-f-full of onions. - an unsophisticated statement of facts which made them laugh extremely."

I should have done myself the pleasure of calling on you, but my carriage is painting, and I hate a chair in the morning or walking the streets when people are about. I would walk to you any morning, at or before eleven o'clock, if you would admit, me, but I suspect your time is better employed than in paying and receiving morning visits.

The beautiful Duchess of Devonshire made an appointment with her in Kemble's box, but, as was frequently the case with that erratic though faseimating woman, was detained, and sent Lady Elizabeth Foster "in her place." 2 Mrs. Inchbald was present at most of the fashionable gatherings of the day, including a grand masquerade, for which, she wrote to an intimate friend, she meant to be

At no expense at all. My domino is lent me. Have you an old blue handkerchief, Lady Elizabeth afterwards "took her place" in a more important sense - becoming the Duke of Devonshire's second wife.

or an old blue sash, or anything of a light-|"Nay," cried Monk Lewis (who is one of faded blue you can lend me, to decorate my the performers), "if your ladyship gives a faded person? Observe-anything blue! wooden supper the audience will say all A blue work-bag, a blue pin-cushion, or a your actors are sticks!" It was not less pair of blue garters I can fasten about me entertaining to see the surprise of the grave somewhere. elderly butler. He knew there was a supper to be given to the company after the play, but did not understand that there was also to be one in it; and with great humility represented that "he thought the company would like a real supper better."

Obviously the character she meant to sustain was that of a "Blue Stocking." In the midst of all this gaiety Mrs. Inchbald was at the call of every one in sickness or want; her money, her sympathy, her time, were always being demanded. She even nursed through a sharp illness the servant of the very landlady who had so ungraciously refused to allow a pail of water to be carried up-stairs for her. A letter of this period shows the sharp contrasts of her life :

I have been very ill indeed, but since the weather has permitted me to leave off making my fire, scouring the grate, sifting the cinders, and all the et-ceteræ of going up and down three long pair of stairs with water or dust I feel quite another creature.

I am both willing and able to perform hard bodily labor, but then the fatigue of being a fine lady the rest of the day is too much for any common strength. Last Thursday I finished scrubbing my bedroom while a coach with a coronet and two foot

men waited at the door to take me for an
airing.
At Lady Cork's the other
evening I believe I was the only person
(except the Jekylls) without a title.

In 1803, ill-health, and exhaustion from nursing others, compelled Mrs. Inchbald to give up her solitary struggles in Leicester Square, and go to Annandale House, Turnham Green, where fourteen Roman Catholic ladies resided, having separate bedrooms, but sharing the sitting-rooms and garden, and as a rule taking their meals together. Writing to Mrs. Phillips, she

says:

Everything is clean in perfection—even my hands! which, heaven knows, they have don't know whether this doesn't constitute not been before for many a day; and I Yet do not think I have forgot my affection for Lonone of my chief comforts. don-no; it is great consolation to me to plan that, "if Buonaparte should come, and conquer," I may then, without relemons in Leicester Square and have the proach, stand with a barrow of oranges and joy to call that place my home.

She

Bonaparte did not come, but Mrs. Inchbald went. The lady who presided She goes on to describe some private over Annandale House had a violent theatricals, at a great house, in which temper, and Mrs. Inchbald's was not a she was urged to take part: "I posi-patient one; a few months later found tively protested that I would not act her in lodgings in the Strand.1 except with women older than myself. then resumed her play-writing and My age was asked. I stated fifty. theatre-going, and went to see young Betty (though she" hated prodigies "), who was acting in her "Lovers' Vows," an adaptation of Kotzebue's play. She

There was then the greatest difficulty to find any woman so old." This seems to have been got over, however, for she gives other particulars :

The drama fixed on has a supper in it, and I represented that the hurry of clearing the table (one of the comic incidents) will probably break the wine-bottles and throw the hot dishes against the beautiful hangings of the room. The lady of the house, alarmed at my remark, cried out that she would have everything counterfeit, and, ringing for her butler, ordered him to bespeak a couple of wooden fowls, a wooden tongue, wooden jellies, and so forth.

1 Her letters describe a tragedy seen from her eyrie, when a child fell from its mother's arms into the Thames, and the father, jumping in, succeeded in saving it, but was drowned himself. And they also give a comic picture of the interior of the room: "My apartment is so small that I am black and blue with thumping against my furniture on every side. I can kindle my fire as I lie in bed, and put on my cap as I dine, for the looking-glass is obliged to stand on the same table as my dinner. But then I have a great deal of fresh air; more

daylight than most people in London; and the enchanting view of the Thames, the Surrey hills, and three windmills."