COPYRIGHTED

BY

HOWARD LEE GERMAN

195® FANNY BURNEY AMD THE LATE EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY NOVEL

DISSERTATION

Presented in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree Doctor of Philosophy in the Graduate School of The Ohio State University

by

HOWARD LEE GERMAN, B. S., H. A.

The Ohio State University 1957

Approved by:

• P t Adviser Department of English TABLE COP CONTENTS

Pag«

I INTRODUCTION...... * ...... 1

(1) Earlier Criticism of MissBurney's Hovels • 1

(2) The HovelBefore 1770 ...... 8

(3) The Novel Between 1770-1800 • ...... 26

II E V E L I N A ...... 57

III CECILIA ...... 128

IT CAMILLA ...... 181

7 THE WANDERER...... 241

71 CONCLUSION...... 287

BIBLIOGRAPHY- ...... 300

ii FANNY BURNEY

AND

THE LATE EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY NOVEL

INTRODUCTION

(1 )

Earlier Criticism of Miss Burney's Novels

In The English Novel George Saintsbury writes:

Frances Burney and her Evelina (1778)» not to mention her subsequent workB and her delightful Diary, have been the subject of a great deal of writing: but though more than a hundred years— more indeed than a century and a quarter — have passed since the book insidiously took London by gradual storm, it may, without too much presumption, be questioned whether either book or author has yet been finally or satisfactorily "placed."-^

Saintsbury continues by pointing out that the “actual critical evaluations of the novel-values of Miss Burney's four attempts in novel writing are very rare." Although very critical of Miss Burney last novel, Saintsbury himself "places" Miss Burney quite high and regards Evelina as "one of the points de repere of the English novel." "Without too much presumption," one might add that in the forty-odd years since Saintsbury wrote the statements quoted above, very little has been written that helps to determine the "novel- values" of Miss Burney's works.

^George Saintsbury, The English Novel (London, ?13)» P» 150 1 2

During the 179 years since her first work appeared, Miss

Burney's position as a novelist has varied considerably. The high point of her popularity undoubtedly was reached shortly after the publication of Bvelina. which ran through four editions inside of

two years and evoked the plaudits of such connoisseurs as Johnson,

Sheridan, Gibbon, Burke and Eeynolds. later readers were less enthusiastic: the temper of nineteenth-century criticism-and most modern criticism also— is exemplified in this judgment by Hazlittj

Madame d'Arblay is . . . 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 work of passion or character, or even manners, in the most extended sense of the word, as implying the stun 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.^

Another nineteenth-century writer, Macaulay, is not quite so dis­ paraging; in countering a vicious criticism of Miss Burney by

J. W. Croker, Macaulay, although ranking her below Jane Austen because of the latter's superiority in delineating individual character, describes her as a genius. He attributes the decline in her popularity to the fact that the public was unduly influenced by the inferiority of her last works (in particular her edition of

2 The Complete Works of William Hazlitt, ed. P. P. Howe (London, 1931). VI, 123. 3

The MemoIra of Dr. Burney): this inferiority itself he ascribes to the stultifying effect of the years Miss Burney spent as Mistresp of the Qpeen's Robes and to a pernicious Johnsonian influence upon her style. Anxious to re-establish her literary reputation he writes:

It is not only on account of the intrinsic merit of Madame d'Arblay1s 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*3

Most twentieth-century criticism follows the pattern suggested by these passages from Saintsbury, Hazlitt and Macaulay: inevitably criticism of her works is concerned with the merit of the novels

(with the usual praise for the vividness of the character-types and the social setting), her contribution to the development of the novel, and the causes for the decline in her literary ability.

3t . Babington Macaulay, "Madame d'Arblay," Essays: Critical and Miscellaneous (New York, 1878), p. 593*

^The attitudes and concerns found in most of the twentieth- century criticism of Miss Burney's novels can be seen in the follow­ ing excerpts taken from the works of four critics.

Will T. Hale states that the last two novels are too long, Cecelia is only a fair novel, but Evelina has a chance for immor­ tality because it is "vivavious" and "not too long"; "it has dramatic situations; and it has a fresh, rare charm. It marks the first fine work to be done by a woman in English fiction; specifi­ cally it presents the world as seen from a woman's point of view. Miss Burney's satire takes the novel of manners into domestic life." Hale says that she failed in her later works because "she out-Johnsoned Johnson; she outwept the school of Mackenzie, she sentimentalized beyond even the most sentimental moods of Richardson; and with an artificiality totally depraved, she crushed out the fresh, charming power of her hative genius." Madame d'Arblay's Place in the Development of the English Novel, Indiana University Studies No. 28 (Bloomington, 1916).

Edith Morley speaks of 3P. Burney's novels "as an epitome of Jf

Although Miss Burney Is treated with some deference in histories of the novel, she has not received much attention as a the life and thoughts, and above all of the feelings of young women in the last quarter of the eighteenth century. Taken together, they form a brilliant achievement which contributed new elements to the novel as inaugurated by Bichardson, Fielding, Sterne and Smollett.” Mrs. Morley praises Miss Burney for her use of dialogue, for the introduction into literature of the feminine point of view, for the variety of scene, and the vividness of the character pre­ sentation. She adds that for Miss Burney “plot is always sub­ ordinate— though probably she would not admit it. What interests her, and therefore her readers, are people, chiefly in their social life and amid everyday surroundings. We get to know them as they appeared to their contemporaries, sometimes pretty intimately, more often rather superficially, and almost always from their speech, manners, and actions rather than from their thoughts and deeper motives." Fanny Burney. The English Association Pamphlet No. 60.

After an excellent but brief analysis of the novels, B. G. MacCarthy concludes that F. Burney has written “one novel which, although it was superficial, was great. It was great because, in some respects, it excelled the technique of previous novels, and because it marks the point at which the feminine movement in fiction comes fully into view." The inferiority of her later novels is blamed upon a drying up of the youthful exuberance and excesses of energy which had produced Evelina. The Later Women Novelists (Oxford, 19^7), pp. 87-129.

David Cecil praises F. Burney for her power of story telling and character drawing, her ability to trace the process of feelings, but he condemns her for her improbable plots. He describes her role in the history of English Letters by saying that “she was the first writer to translate the Fielding type of novel into the feminine key." She did not achieve a greater success because she was “hardly an artist at all in the fullest sense of the word. The novel to her was not the expression of an imaginative conception, but merely a means of recording her observations of the world, which she organ­ ized into an artificial unity by using any convention of story writing she found to her hand. Only if she had lived in an age that had presented her ready-made with a thoroughly sound model for a work could she have achieved consistently good work." According to Cecil, the later novels suffer from a Johnsonian infection so that "the moralism is more aggressive than ever, and the language more stilted." "Fanny Burney," Poets and Story-Tellers (New York, 19^9). PP. 77-96. novelist in the twentieth century; the Diaries with their intimate

pictures of many of her famous contemporaries continue to attract

readers and to inspire biographers-— she has been the subject of at

least five biographies in the last twenty-five years* But of the

novels, only Evelina can lay claim to any sort of continuing wide­

spread popularity.^ Undoubtedly this novel appeals to readers with

historical interests who wish to acquire, in an enjoyable fashion,

knowledge about the social background of the eighteenth century,

and to readers who are anxious to enjoy, if only in literature, a

stability of society that is lacking ifa our own age.^ But, at the

same time, there is a growing awareness that the type of novel

represented by Evelina has a worth which has been ignored by many

modern critics and readers, who, preoccupied with psychology and

the current aesthetic ideas, have ignored the social insights and

the valuable descriptions of “reality" presented in the novel of

manners* This newer awareness is illustrated in a recent analysis

by Edwine Montague and Louis Martz in which Evelina is contrasted

with All The King*8 Men.^ Although noting that the social and

•5|Ehe Cumulative Book index lists three new editions of this novel in the last twenty-five years* Edwine Montague and Louis L. Martz claim that there were about two dozen editions in the nine­ teenth century and that the Everyman edition had eight printings between 1909 and 1931* See Footnote 7« c Elizabeth Bowen suggests that this desire for stability explains in part the present revival of interest in Trollope, whose novels offer the sort of picture of the nineteenth century that Miss Burney's supply for the eighteenth. Anthony Trollope, A Hew Judgment_(London, 1946). ^Edwine Montague and Louis L. Martz, "Fanny Burney'6 Evelina. The Age of Johnson (New Haven, 1949), PP* 1?1-181. domestic concerns of Evelina seem insignificant when contrasted with

the more momentous political, moral and emotional problems of the

latter book, the authors point out that Evelina also has its sig­

nificance. It deals with the problem of the individual's "belonging"

to a particular group, the necessity of the individual's meeting the

standards and requirements of manners, and the ways in which a whole

social order depends upon universal adherence to the social codes*

Lionel Trilling, one of the foremost spokesmen for the recognition

of the importance of manners and their relation to reality, writes:

The great novelists know that manners indicate the largest intention of men's souls as well as the small­ est and they are perpetually concerned to catch the meaning of every dim implicit hint. The novel, then, is a perpetual quest for reality, the field of its research being always the social world, the material of its analysis being always manners as the indication of the direction of man's soul.®

The analysis of Evelina by Montague and Martz shows that a

critical approach based upon a Trilling-like appreciation of the

importance of manners can offer an exciting, fresh perspective on

these novels, one that makes possible a reassessment different from

the earlier stereotyped criticisms of her novels. Nor is this socio-

critical approach the only one that might profitably be used; within

the last forty years, and in particular the last fifteen, critics

like Henry James, Percy Lubbock, H. S« Crane, Mark Schorer and

Dorothy Van Ghent have demonstrated critical techniques which can

lead to valuable insights into the structure and meaning of a novel*

^Lionel Trilling, The Liberal Imagination (New York, 1953)« p. 206. ?

In only one or two instances have these techniques been used, in analyzing Miss Burney's novels.^ One of the "problems" to be under­ taken in this paper, then, will be to use these newer critical tech­ niques. wherever profitable, to analyze the novels* The second and third problems of this paper are the familiar ones: to determine the importance of these works in the history of the novel and the reason or reasons for the decline in the merit of Miss Burney's novels* Although it may be impossible to arrive at a completely satisfactory answer to this third problem, at least it will be possible to determine the aesthetic reasons for the inferiority of the later works and to make a more comprehensive comparison among the novels than is available at present*1®

9ln an unpublished dissertation Eugene White has studied Miss Burney's novellstic technique by analyzing each novel for plot, characterization, style, etc*; but because of his technical emphasis, he gives little attention to the overall effects of the novel or to its values* Eugene White, "Eanny Burney, Novelist— A Study in Tech­ nique," unpublished dissertation (Illinois, 1950)*

^•®A study of some unpublished Burney material at the New York Public Library has recently been made by Miriam J* Benkovitz for any insight it will offer into Miss Burney's life and novels* Miss Benkovitz concludes: "Miss Burney's increasing proficiency in the use of simple incident and in the credible depiction of the unexpected in character and a sharpening psychological penetration are in marked contrast with a simultaneous inclination toward melodramatic incident, stereotyped characterization dependent on a ruling passion, and a steady decline in the general texture of prose. This unequal construc­ tion results from a didactic intention, entirely explicit in her journals and letters* Her insistence was on a personal meaning what­ ever the structural cost." Miriam Jeanette Benkovitz, "Fanny Burney Novelist," unpublished dissertation (Yale, 1951)* 8

In order to gauge the contribution of Miss Burney’s fiction

to the novel form, it will be necessary to develop a brief historical

and literary framework for the novel of the time. Such background

material not only will aid in determining the originality of her

work, but will also enable one better to appraise her novels, to see

how extensively she borrows from tradition, how much she is influenced

by her contemporaries, and what use she makes of novelistic conven­

tions. This background will emphasize literary and novelistic

history, but it will be broadened to include any economic, social,

political or ideological factors which contribute to a better

appraisal and understanding of the novels.

(2 )

The Novel Before 1770

The history of fiction has been described as evolving through

four stages: from the Impossible to the Improbable, then to the

Probable, and finally to the Inevitable.^ It is not difficult to

see why the eighteenth century saw the transition from stage two to

stage three, from the romance to the novel, 12 for as the poetry of

■^A concept of Brander Matthews, discussed in Bliss Perry, A Study of Prose Fiction (Boston, /1920/), pp. 187-8. 12 The difference between these two was defined in 1785 by Clara Reeve: "The Romance is a heroic fable, which treats of fabu­ lous persons and things— The Novel is a picture of real life and manners, and of the time in which it is written." The Progress of Romance (New York, 193°)» 9 the early part of the century particularly well demonstrates» the eighteenth century placed its emphasis upon reason and distrusted any extensive flights of the imagination* Season and Nature were counterparts found respectively within the individual and the universe

that were vo be used as the "source and end and test" not only of Art but also of religious, political and social institutions* The tur­ bulence of the Commonwealth and Restoration periods produced a widespread desire for social and political stability, a feeling which resulted in a distrust of political ardor and religious enthusiasm and produced a "common-sense" religion, a conservative political atmosphere and an earth-bound Pegasus*^ The pervasiveness of this intellectual climate has been demonstrated by A* 0* Lovejoy, who has

13in considering the position of imagination in this century, H* W. Taylor points out that the distrust of the fictitious, which goes back to Plato, was reinforced by Hobbes, who felt that any fiction had certain disadvantages in comparison with fact and that history and observation ought to determine the limits of Nature* Taylor also notes that the distrust of the imaginative blends with the fondness for emotion in the critical defense of such forms as domestic tragedy: it was maintained that to evoke pathos writers should use the details of actuality, for man is much more a creature of feeling than imagination* Taylor points out that this movement toward realism in the novel is observable in other forms such as the journalistic essay, history and biography, all of which began to strive for techniques of conscientious realism. The Idea of Locality in English Criticism of Fiction 1750-18^0 (Chicago, 1936)* And D. F. Bond, who is anxious to make a case for a greater tolerance of imagination during the neo-classical period than is usually imagined, concludes that the severer criticisms of imagina­ tion "have to do with the dangers of an unbridled imagination in prose, where exactness and unadorned truth are the aims* As to peetry, those who insist most rigidly on its utilitarian nature are likely to dis­ parage imagination, if not all imaginative writing; but for the most part the criticism of imagination in poetry is that it tempts the poet to overabundance of expression and 'unnatural* imagery . . . * If neo-classical critics had little regard for poetry which was purely a flight of fancy, neither did they recognize an art which ruled imagination out or held it in strict subordination*" D. F. Bond, "'Distrust* of Imagination in English NeA-Classicism,1' PC£, XIV (1935), 69. 10

shown that the Idea complexes which constitute the rationalism of

the early eighteenth century can effectively explain the development of related movements in religion and literature: namely, deism and neo-classicism.

More specifically, this faith in Reason with its concomitant distract of the imaginative and the unreal resulted in two changes which contributed to the development of the novel* First, it helped develop a prose style adequate for the novel; the relationship between Reason and prose has been thus described:

Prose arises . . . as science gradually supersedes magic and conscious control replaces instinctive emotion. Prose is a later, more sophisticated use of language than primitive poetry precisely because it presupposes a more objective, controlled and conscious view of reality. Stories— "images of men's changing lives organized in time"— can only come into existence as men become conscious, however imperfectly, of social processes and man's compli­ cated, unending struggle against Nature. This objective quality of prose, that it makes coherent some facet of outer reality already apprehended, is very significant . . . it explains why in eighteenth-century England there should have been a particular impulse towards prose-writing. For literature to the bourgeois writer of this period was, above all, a means of taking stock of the new society. A medium which could express a realistic and objective curiosity about man and his world, this is what they were after.^-5

■^A. 0. Lovejoy, "The Parallel of Deism and Classicism," Essays in the History of Ideas (Baltimore, 19^8), pp. 78“9&*

■^Arnold Kettle, An Introduction to the English Novel (London, 1951). I. 5?. William Lyon Phelps ascribes the rise of the novel directly to the development of a suitable prose. "The novel, next to the realistic play, is the most concrete and 'natural1 form of litera­ ture; and it did not appear until there was an adequate medium of expression. A simple, flexible, smooth-running English prose style did not exist until the latter half of the seventeenth century." The Advance of the English Novel (New York, 1927), p. 30* As Kettle implies, the development of prose style is 11

Second, this rationalism led writers to give more attention to the

details of actuality, an emphasis that was essential if the novel

was to progress beyond the romance* Verisimilitude was preferred to

fantasy or imaginative eccentricity. Even should the materials of

literature be exotic, romantic or wildly fantastic, the method of

treatment was realistic. Readers and writers were interested in

the read and the true, and, although not all eighteenth-century

thinkers were as distrustful of imagination as Swift (see The

Mechanical Operation of The Spirit), yet for most of them reality connected with changes in the world view of society and the develop­ ment of science. Richard F. Jones demonstrates the impact of this desire for a "close, naked style" by contrasting two samples of prose written by Joseph Glanvil. In the second passage, a revision of the first passage written after Glanvil was affected by the zeal for prose reform, "the Brownesque inversions, as well as Browne's habit of overloading the first part of a sentence at the expense of the latter, are ironed out and straightened into a natural order in which verb follows subject, and object verb. Exclamatory sentences and rhetorical questions are subdued to direct assertions, the length of sentences is perceptibly decreased, and oratorical cadence has almost disappeared. The verbal reform begun in the Scepsis, is continued in the substitution of Bimpler, more current words for the unusual Latinisms and exotic terms characteristic of Browne, while emotional and extravagant expressions are greatly tempered. There is general condensation in expression, an economy of words which deflates the verbosities and superfluous terms of the earlier style. Figurative language and poetic imagery, whether extended or brief, are abolished, curtailed, or restrained. Illustra­ tions, in the description of which Glanvil had shown a feeling for beauty, are purged of all qualities except the essential one of expository clearness. All the glories of enthusiastic expression and all joy in beauty have faded into the common light of day. We find in a comparison of the two versions not only a change in style but also a vivid picture of the spirit of one age yielding to that of another." "Science and English Prose Style in the Third Quarter of the Seventeenth Century," The Seventeenth Century, ed. F. R. Johnson et al. (Stanford, 1951). p. 97. 12

consisted of the material world defined by Newton and Locke. This

concept of reality had weaknesses in all areas of life involving

emotion, but in literature it was not totally without value.^

Although in poetry, when combined with an excessive preoccupation

with the Ancients and the Rules, it sacrificed all "fine fabling"

and gained only Borne fine satires, in the field of prose, it forced

writers to attend to the actual and the probable, both of which

have seemed essential to the development and life of the novel

However, the rise and character of the novel cannot be

explained compltely by this brief analysis of the prevailing intel­

lectual forces; the composition of eighteenth-century society also

strongly influenced the novel. Among the social forces affecting

the novel, one of the most important is that intricate union of forces

This concept of reality, to which both the prose and the poetry of the time seem to be committed, is as restrictive as the limited concept of reality which Lionel Trilling blames for the lack of richness in most American novelists. "The Meaning of a Literary Idea," The Liberal Imagination, pp. 268-87* 17 1 Ian Watt sees the changes in eighteenth-century fiction as paralleling and related to the developments in philosophy: "both the philosophical and the literary innovations must be seen as parallel manifestations of larger change— that vast transformation of western civilization since the Renaissance which has replaced the unified world picture of the Middle Ages with another very different one— one which presents us, essentially, with a developing but unplanned aggregate of particular individuals having particular experiences at particular times and at particular places." For Watt the technical changes which occurred in the writing of fiction at this time (changes in the way of organizing the plot, of presenting characters and setting, of using time, and changes in the prose style) are related to the philosophical tradition arising with Locke and Descartes. Accord­ ing to this tradition, truth can be discovered by the individual through his senses; this concept parallels the concept of the novel with its emphasis upon the truth of the specific and particular expe­ riences of the Individual. The Rise of the Novel (Berkeley, 1957). Chap. I• 13 summed up by the term reading nubile.1^ As is well known, the eighteenth century saw the rise of a large middle-class reading public, which began to play a tremendous part in shaping the objec­ tives of most writers.

/These readers/ were primarily Puritans, and primarily tradesmen. In body they stayed at home, and in spirit explored strange lands in travelers' tales. They had at once a Puritan consciousness of the dignity of every soul in the sight of God, and an embarrassed realization of their own social inferiority in the presence of a hereditary aristocracy. Eor both reasons, they zealously sought means of education, of self-cultivation, of acquiring such a knowledge of life and manners as should prove a practical advantage in trade and a sign of social prestige. This reading public exhibited in many ways the strength and weakness of any nouveau riche class, which is at once the backbone of the nation, and the butt of its satirists. '

Out of thi3 newly created reading public came the demand for moral­ ity and didacticism which earmark much of eighteenth-century fiction.

The audience that transformed The Country Wife and The Man of Mode into The Conscious Lovers required statements of a moral purpose from its authors; admittedly many writers showed a zest in portraying immoral situations that runs counter to the professed moral intention

■*-®The reading public is perhaps the most import influence of all. Considering the impact of social forces upon changes of opinion during this century, Leslie Stephen writes: "The more closely we examine recent developments of opinion the more, I believe, we shall be convinced that the immediate causes of change are to be sought rather in social development than in the activity of a few speculative minds. A complete history of thought would, therefore, have to take into account the social influences* as well as the logical bearing, of the varying phases of opinions." History of English Thought in the Eighteenth Century (Hew York, 1876), I, 13»

m . Lovett and H. S. Hughes, The History of the Hovel in England (Cambridge, Mass., 1932)i P« 38. For an interesting account of the way in which Robinson Crusoe reflects the interest in economic individualism and Puritan morality, see Watt, The Rise of the Hovel. Chap. III. Ik of their work. The didactic demands of the reading public and its interest in contemporary manners and life led authors to produce a variety of quasi-fictional literature: key-hovels, political satires, fictionalized biographies, etc., most of which curried favor by pretending to be authentic "histories" and concealing their spurious- ness beneath a burden of circumstantial details about behavior, 20 customs and topography. w Unquestionably, the master of this type of work was Defoe, whose combination of romantic verisimilitude and morality established the pattern of fiction until the arrival of

®The evolution of the novel of manners up to 17^0 has thus been summarized by Charlotte Morgan: "The novel or brief tale, which during the first half of the seventeenth century had fallen into desuetude, returned to favor in the latter half, and before 1700 had supplemented the romance in popular favor. The short Italian novelle, which, condensed, modern­ ized and vulgarized for many years continued to fill such collections as The Delightful Novels and Winter Tales, were the point of departure for the more romantic Spanish novels of the Cloak and Sword and for the clever French novels of manners. Through the translations and imitations of the latter by writers such as Mrs. Behn, the much needed realism, vivacity and colloquialism was imported into the heavy English prose fiction. In the same direction was the influence of the sprightly Narrative Comedies. Realism of emotional expression was learned from the Letters of a Portuguese Nun, which incidentally gave prominence to the device of the letter. With the turn of the century, we find a reaction against flagrant immorality, together with a revival of sentimentalism and a love of didacticism, reflected in the social treatises, the fables, the apologues, the educational narratives, and the Oriental and fairy tales* All of these elements, together with a conventional, middle-class point of view), an increasing interest in self-analysis, and a realistic depiction of manners, we find in the contemporary narratives, notably in the domestic histories of Mrs. Eeywood and the novels of Mrs. Barker and her anonymous contemporaries." The Rise of the Novel of Manners (New York, 1911), pp. 113-1^. 15 21 Bichardson, Fielding, Smollett and Sterne*

It becomes apparent, therefore, that the intellectual climate and the reading public combined to produce certain ideas about the nature of the reality that the novel was to define and the purpose for which it was to be written* Although the novelists were by no means conqpletely dominated by these demands, the four requirements which the age and the society attempted to impose upon them have been summarized as follows:

I. The piece should profess and disclose a moral purpose, as against a purely fictitious narrative designed solely for entertainment* II* The characters, the conversations, the situations, and the Incidents should have their basis in human nature; should evolve from a close study of real life— of contemporary English life— as against the far-off unknown people of distant lands, and ancient times* III* Beason and common sense should predominate always, as against mystic ideality, the highly imaginative, and the purely fanciful. IV. The plot, the persons, and the machinery of the piece should come well within the bounds of probability, and easily within the range of credibility, thereby dismissing the absurd and marvelous of ancient romance*

And as different as the novels of the four major novelists of this century may appear, it can still be shown that they are but differ­ ing attempts of men of literary genius to solve the same problems, problems imposed by their age and audience. Furthermore, after

^ I n view of his ability to create so effectively the illusion of reality, Defoe can almost be considered the founder of the novel* However, if it is assumed that the novel demands a plot with consider­ able coherence, characters and personal relationships that are integral parts of the total structure, and the entire work related to a con­ trolling moral intention, then this honor must be granted to Richardson rather than Defoe. See Ian Watt, p. 131*

^Charles Herbert Huffman, The Eighteenth-Century Hovel in Theory and Practice (Dayton, Virginia, 1920), p. 27* 16 describing these writers as literary geniuses, one can now safely add that although they differ among themselves in their creative responses to these demands and restrictions, their respective

"answers" do not differ markedly from fictional and prose forms already in existence* Only in their totality do their works differ from those of their predecessors; their novels represent a sort of cumulation and capstone to earlier efforts in the essay, drama, and earlier fictional and literary forms*

Bichardson*s compliance with the demands of his audience can be seen in the fact that his first novel was occasioned by a publisher's request that he write a series of model letters for the lower classes;

It, as well as his later novels, is in the courtesy-book tradition and never deviates extensively from its explicit moral purpose. ^

The overall effect of Pamela must be regarded as a moral one, despite the criticism of Fielding and others who have commented upon the pornographic intensity of some of the scenes and insisted that the novel stresses the profitable consequences of virtue* Richardson's novels also satisfy the demands for realism, for with the exception of a few drastic actions such as attempted kidnappings and rapes, the action centers on the commonplace actions and feelings of his protagonists* Through a massing of detail about the inner life of

27 "After his three novels were published, Richardson was able to cull out some of the maxims, which he published as A Collection of the Moral and Instructive Sentiments. Maxims, Cautions and Reflexions Contained in the Histories of Pamela. Clarissa and Sir Charles G-randlson his heroines, Bichardson achieves a realism comparable to that obtained by Defoe with his countine, weighing, and labeling of the details of the external world; unlike the novels of Defoe, Bichardson's works have their centers of interest in character rather than adven­

ture or economic security* Bichardson1s delineation of the minutiae of the inner life is given an air of verisimilitude by his use of

the epistolary technique. In a sense, Bichardson*s novels illustrate a recent critical observation that literary technique is not only 24 a way of saying something but also determines what is said. Earlier writers of fiction had been unable to describe naturally the more delicate states of sensation and emotion; Bichardson's epistolary technique, combined with his knowledge of feminine character, enabled him to present such psychological and emotional detail. Because of his interest in portraying emotions, Bichardson was inevitably required to delineate sentimental scenes; furthermore, he was not above introducing pathetic tableaux and scenes merely to have his heroines show their feelings and to work upon the sentiments of his readers. But in view of the overall firmness of his moral attitude and his emphasis upon prudence, Bichardson should not be confused with later writers of sensibility. He uses sentiment: as a device for moving his readers, not as a standard of morality. Bichardson introduced materials which innumerable imitators borrowed: the

^*Mark Schorer, "Technique as Discovery," Critiques and Essays on Modern Fiction, ed. John Aldridge (New York, 1952), pp. 67-82. 18 sex-battle, the themes of Cinderella, Virtue Persecuted, The Good

Young Man, and scenes such as the kidnapping and attempted rape of the heroine* From the standpoint of technique, Bichardson is respon- 25 sible for the great vogue of the epistolary novel, and, with

Fielding, he is responsible for the introduction of greater dramatic qualities to the novel*

Although Fielding also recognized the demands of his reading public for morality and didacticism, his compliance was given, so to speak, more grudgingly* His novels differed greatly from those of

Bichardson, and although he seems to have had almost as wide an

-’According to a study made by F* G*. Black, almost half of the novels written during the period 178O-I8OO were epistolary novels* Black's study offers a statistical demonstration of the familiar relationship between "form” and "content*" The epistolary technique, which facilitates self-analysis, was popular when sentimental novels were popular; however, as the new subject areas found in historical and Gothic novels became popular, the popularity of the epistolary technique died off almost immediately. FranKG* Black, The Epistolary Hovel in the Late Eighteenth Century, University of Oregon Studies in Literature and Philology, Nos. 1-3* (University of Oregon, 19^0). Black has also pointed out that 506 epistolary novels were written between 17^0 and 1799* The Technique of Letter Fiction in English from 17^-0 to 1800. Harvard Studies and Notes in Philology and Literature, XV (Cambridge, Mass., 1933)* P* 291.

Among the other talents which the Big Four possessed, one must list an aesthetic and critical awareness* They were responsible for some of the best novelistic criticism of the century* Richardson's awareness of the merits of his method is shown in the "Postscript" to Clarissa. Here Bichardson, deploring the way in which the "great doctrines of the gospel" are being questioned, states his purpose of introducing a reformation by "investigating the great doctrines of Christianity under the fashionable guise of amusement." By citing Addison and Bapin on Aristotle, he defends his tragic ending and rejects the current concept of poetic justice. In defending his epistolary method he quotes a critique of Clarissa; "This method has given the author great advantages which he could not have drawn from any other species of narration* The minute particulars of events, the sentiments and conversation of the parties, are, upon 19 audience, he never received the praise of such puritanical arbiters as Johnson. His morality is not as simple as Bichardson's. Only in Amelia does Fielding appear to adopt an orthodox moral position; in his early works he seems to advocate a morality based upon an instinctive goodness of heart linked with a prudential and intelli­ gent regard for the consequences of action, an attitude which is inevitably required as a result of living in society. In a sense one might say that it was Fielding's concept of reality that made it difficult for him to satisfy the stricter moralists, for he felt that probability dictated characters of a mixed make-up rather than paragons. He felt that a realistic description of life required a presentation of vices, and that a realistic presentation of the ridiculous should avoid the broad strokes of the caricaturist.^ this plan, exhibited with all the warmth and spirit that the passion supposed to be predominant at that very time could produce, and with all the distinguishing characteristics which memory can supply in a history of recent transactions." Bichardson defends his characters' mania for scribbling and then speaks of the length and detail of his work. "There was frequently a necessity to be very circumstantial and minute, in order to preserve and maintain that air of probability, which is necessary to be maintained in a story designed to represent real life, and which is rendered extremely busy and active by the plots and contrivances formed and carried on by one of the principal characters." Samuel Bichardson, The History of Clarissa Harlowe (London, 188*0, V. 522-40.

^Fielding wrote what is probably the best novelistic criticism of the century. In the Preface to Joseph Andrews, he shows his recognition that he is working in a new genre, that "comic epic in prose," in which writers should confine themselves "strictly to nature, from the just imitation of which will flow all the pleasure that we can this way convey to a sensible reader." He identifies the source of the ridiculous as affectation, which "proceeds from one of these two causes, vanity or hypocrisy." In the first chapter of each book of Tom Jones one finds Fielding's critical comments on his desire to present human nature, on his unhistoric handling of time, the need for adherence to probability in characterization and incident, the necessary 20

While Richardson, is serious and psychological, Fielding is comic and social; his didacticism is presented primarily through satire and humor. He treats his material with irony achieved through an elegant 28 style and the use of contrasting characters and situations. Fielding ejjpanded both the scope and form of the novel; he drew upon material found in earlier literary forms such as the drama,character sketches and essays, and introduced new elements such as farce, romantic comedy and domestic drama to the novel.

Realizing that his audience distrusted fictional material,

Fielding constantly posed as historian and biographer and defended his "histories" as having a reality based upon probability which transcended actual history; his reality is not that of a reproduction, but rather a dramatic rendering of character and action which attempts to create the illusion of life. Writing as omniscient author, he un­ fortunately——from the point of view of most modern critics— willingly sacrificed the illusion of actuality by frequently injecting himself as author into the novel. But he still achieves a considerable sense q.ualifications of authorship (invention, judgment, learning, knowledge of mankind, a good heart and capacity for feeling), literary borrowing, the folly of poetic justice, the avoidance of the deus ex machina in handling the plot, etc.

^Although Fielding’s style with its elegant irony may not lend itself to the delineation of the intricacies of the inner life of his characters, it is effective in securing the comic effects for which he strives. It sets up an "elegant surface /whicKJ keeps us cooly separated from the violence, grotesqueries and postures that it mirrors .... /and aids in7 the continuous conversion of art into reflection and experience into spectacle, which seems to be the secret of comic art." Maynard Mack, "Introduction,ft Joseph Andrews by Henry Fielding (New York, 1953)» P* anri* 21 of reality through his use of a bare but adequate setting, a localization of scene and a dramatic use of dialogue and incident

to characterize and advance action. The sense of reality is enhanced by the vride variety of incidents and characters, yet this variety

is controlled by an epic unity and a dramatic emphasis which are not

to be found in the picaresque models upon which Fielding drew.

Smollett placed his emphasis more upon realism than morality.

Unhampered by any restrictive principle of plot unity, he reverted to the episodic plot of the picaresque novel to reveal great chunks of eighteenth-century life.^9 His scope, which included both English

^Smollett's didactic intentions and desire to depict reality can be seen in these statements in the Preface to Roderick Random. "Of all kinds of satire, there is none so entertaining and universally improving, as that which is introduced, as it were, occasionally in the course of an interesting story, which brings every incident home to life; and by representing familiar scenes in an uncommon and amusing point of view, invests them with all the graces of novelty, while nature is appealed to in every particular." He justifies his mean scenes and coarse language on the grounds that such things exist and can be avoided or remedied only by being exposed, but most critics have felt that his delineation of the seamy side of life is done with too much enthusiasm to be regarded as a mere didactic chore. He has also been condemned for failing to adhere to his intention of improving on LeSage: "The disgraces of G-il Bias are, for the most part, such as rather excite mirth than compassion: he himself laughs at them; and his transitions from distress to happiness, or at least ease, are so sudden, that neither the reader has time to pity him, nor himself to be acquainted with affliction. This conduct, in my opinion, not only deviates from probability, but prevents the generous indignation which ought to animate the reader, against the sordid and vicious disposition of the world." However, most readers will agree that he did adhere to his own concept of the novel, expressed in the frequently quoted dedication to Ferdinand Count Fathom: "A novel is a large diffused picture, comprehending the character of life, disposed in different groups, and exhibited in various attitudes, for the purpose of a uniform plan, and general occurrence, to which every individual figure is subservient. But this plan cannot be executed with pro­ priety, probability, or success, without a principal personage to attract the attention, unite the incidents, unwind the clue of the labyrinth, and at last close the scene by virtue of his own importance." Tobias Smollett, Roderick Random (Oxford, 1926): The Adventures of 22

and Continental society, was wide; it brought into the novel new

characters: the seaman and various "humours" characters of the

Johnsonian type, but his satirical sketchbooks seem to feature

characters from the lower ranks and a coarse, farcical humor based

upon horseplay and the practical joke. His stories are told with a

gusto and with an emphasis upon the external aspects of action and

character, end they are united by a belief in "the vicious dis­

position of the world," Smollett describes situations and scenes

effectively, offering the reader vivid impressions for all the senses.

He is always ready with the pithy phrase and the compulsive adjective, Smollett's vigorous and incisive style, fluent, but almost destitute of grace and elegance, was a style unexcelled for the narra­ tion of exciting, extraordinary or farcical occurrences and the portrayal of characters in keeping therewith,30

Smollett experimented with language; he introduced nautical jargon

and various dialects for humorous effects. He also experimented

with point of view by writing in the autobiographical, the omniscient

author, and the epistolary modes. In Humphrey Clinker he used the

letter technique in a new way by having several, of his correspondents

comment upon the same events; this presentation of events from several points of view provides humor, defines character and suggests more

complex problems such as the difficulty of determining truth, In

Jerdinand Count Fathom Smollett seems to have initiated the type of graveyard scene that was later to figure so prominently in the Gothic novel,

Ferdinand Count Fathom (Oxford, 1925),

^^Ernest Baker, The History of the Tnngllsh Hovel (London, 1930), IV, 20?. 23

Sterne's regard for realism and morality differs greatly from that of the other members of the Big Eour. His concern with realism is seen in M s desire to write & "history-book • . ~. of what passes in a man's mind" and to show the coexistence of the absurd and the significant in an events^ But in spite of his statement that Tristram Shandy was a "moral work more read than understood," and in spite of occasional expressions of orthodox morality like the sermon in Tristram Shandy, one finds in Sterne a fondness for salaciousness which was a far cry from the Puritanical morality professed by his century. This salaciousness was tolerated— if not enjoyed— because the novels also contained an attractive mixture of humor and pathos, the latter of which was in its way as pernicious to orthodox morality as the suggestions of indecency. Sterne's emphasis upon feeling made him the leader, if not the founder, of the

School of Sensibility.-^ But with Sterne the sensibility is usually so closely tied to the humorous or the ludicrous that the fusion is

^See A. D. McKillop, The Early Masters of English Fiction (Lawrence, Kansas, 1956), Chap. V.

32®ae difference between the use of sentiment in Sterne and Richardson has been thus described by Edith Birkhead: "To Sterne 'Sentiment' suggested a pleasant philandering with emotion. He loved to savour delicate sensations: he was an epicure in feeling. Richardson, on the other hand, was more highly interested in minute problems of conscience, and, as a moralist, he distrusted the indulgence of the emotions. His heroines are 'sententious' rather than 'sentimental.' They are guided by the three graces of the eighteenth century, delicacy, decorum, and punctilio." "Sentiment and Sensibility in the Eighteenth Century," Essays and Studies by Members of the English Association. XI, collected by Oliver Elton (Oxford, 1925). P. 95* 24

quite palatable. Furthermore, it was partly due to his interest in

sensations and feelings that Sterne was able to extend the scope of

the novel. Like Defoe and Eichardson, the "realists" who preceded him, Sterne was interested in noting the minutiae of life: the small,

the fleeting and the habitual gesture; these were stimuli which

provoked pathos and speculation, usually melancholic* Although most

of his characters are dominated by a ruling passion, they take on new dimensions because they are revealed through a "subtle analytic

treatment of gesture, expression, intonation, all the evanescent

details that together make up c h a r a c t e r . "33 with none of the other novelists of the Big Four does the author*s concept of reality show

itself as clearly in the form of his novels as it does in Sterne's

Tristram Shandy. The whimsically digressive form of the book simu­ lates the associative way in which man's mind works and at the same 34 time demonstrates the unpredictable duality of life. The material itself is presented impressionistically through a chaotic plot which is organized loosely around a Bergsonian-llke concept of time, the

33sir Walter Raleigh, The English Novel (New York, 1896), pp. 195-96.

3^Arnold Kettle notes that the book not only points out the "difficulty of theorizing adequately about anything so complex as the countless facts of existence . • • /but it is also/ a satire on the theme of the conflict between theory and practice . . • for there is in Tristram Shandy a continuous and subtle tension between what might be described as eighteenth-century common-sense enlighten­ ment and the old scholastic tradition of the medieval world." An Introduction to the English Novel, p. 82. 25

Lockean idea of association and a general authorial eccentricity*^

The eccentricity shows itself in the blank pages* the asterisks* the diagrams, and in the curt, sometimes intentionally ungrammatical

sentences, in the expressions of emotion, in the cultivated surprise, etc*

This brief description of the main characteristics of the four great novelists of the eighteenth century suggests what each of

them supplied to the novelistic tradition and makes possible a gener­ alization about the traits which they shared* It is noteworthy that each of them created a unique expression of reality, a description which was rendered rather than defined as a result of their abilities

to work with details in a vivid, dramatic fashion* Their novels and critical comments show that, in the main, they recognized and accepted

the contemporary requirements for reality, probability and morality, but they were able to surmount the rather arbitrary specifications of the age; they refused to conform automatically, to allow the demands for morality to distort their aesthetic ideas and concepts of reality* Consequently, all of them were criticized for various

immoral tendencies in their works. Finally, it must be noted that regardless of their fictional point of view they all had tremendously effective prose styles which aided them in creating the illusion of

^Ernest Baker notes the keenness of Sterne's visual sensatiwdty and thus describes his writing: "Where Sterne is content to set down his impressions just as they came, coloured with the feelings rising spontaneously in a mind exquisitely sensitive and delicately attuned, the people, the incidents, the whole moving scene of the traveller's progress is brought before us, with all its atmosphere in a series of incomparable pictures." History of the English Hovel* IV, 262. 26

reality they sought.

The novelistic tradition which these novelists defined was

adopted to a limited extent by their contemporaries and their

successors. During the period 17^0-70 there were many minor writers

who were unsuccessful imitators of the Big your. Even the more

successful novelists of this group, such as Sarah yielding, Charlotte

Lennox, Francis Sheridan, Frances Brooke, John Shebbeare, and Thomas

Amory, were several notches below the Big Four and contributed little

to the technique of the novel. And writers of known ability in

other literary forms failed to offer any significant advancement in

technique; with Basselas Johnson showed only that the novel could

be used as a framework for a philosophical-oriental travelogue;

Goldsmith, whose Vicar of Wakefield has always had a popular appeal,

started out to write a Voltaire-like critique of Sentimentalism but

ended up with another sentimental novel. Indeed, most of the writers

of this period, particularly the women writers, absorbed or exagger­ ated certain Bichardsonian sentimental tendencies and hastened the development of the novels of sentiment and sensibility.

(3)

The Novel Between 1770 - 1800

The last thirty years of the eighteenth century saw a great spate of novel writing, but of the thirteen hundred novels printed, 27 very few have enough merit to be read today*^ However, this period has some importance because certain tendencies appeared which were to play an important part in the evolution of the novel* During these years there were no novelists who had as much talent as the ) four writers just considered; but this fact only partly explains the deterioration in novelistic technique. Surely the novels of the Big

Four were imitated, but only the more obvious characteristics were adopted; Richardson's use of the letter form, his massing of detail and delineation of sentimental scenes; Fielding's burlesque style and humour characters; Smollett's use of a picaresque plot and his social satire; Sterne's stylistic tricks, his whimsicality and sensibility— all of these were copied, but the novels were clearly inferior to those of the original writers. The Big Four had been able to unite their own artistic and moral concepts into artistic wholes which still satisfied the public. But the lesser writers were incapable of doing this; they seem to have been more completely dominated by the demands of the reading public and the current ide­ ologies. 3? The growth of the reading public, which had been

^Baker, History of English Hovel, V, 12n* The output of novels seems to have varied considerably during this period. Accord­ ing to J. M. S. Tompkins there was a falling off in production during the period 1775-85* Whereas sixty novels were reviewed by The Critical and The Monthly Review in 1?71, only sixteen were reviewed in 17?6. "There was, in the period that followed the masterpieces of the four great novelists, a real conviction that the novel was played out." The Popular Novel in England. 1770-1800 (London, 1932), P» 5* It seems that even at its birth the novel did not lack for critics eager to perform the funeral rites. Among the current ringers of the knell are critics such as Jose Ortega y Gasset and T. S. Eliot. 37

stimulated by the periodicals of Addison and Steele and augnented

by later periodicals and by improvements in transportation, commerce

and education, was a mixed blessing.-^® It was responsible for the

emancipation of the author from the patron: by the end of the

century a fairly talented writer could enjoy a better existence than

that of a hanger-on in the retinue of some nobleman or that of a Grub

Street hack; but this freedom substituted for a Maecenas a collective

patron, the public, which was likely to be just as fickle and have much less taste*39

"It is the sudden growth of the reading, and particularly the noeel- reading, public in the second half of the eighteenth century that started a series of changes in such important matters as the relation of the author to publisher, the scope and nature of the periodical, the expectations of the reader, and the aims and object of the novelist." Fiction and the Reading Public (London, 1932 ), p. 130*

38j. T. Taylor refers to James Lackington's statements that much of the increase in the reading public could be ascribed to the Sunday Schools* Early Opposition to the English Novel (Hew York, 19^3)* P* And according to Richard D. Altick, the growth of the reading public during the last decade of the century was greatly stimulated by controversial political pamphlets like Paine's The Rights of Man* The English Common Reader (Chicago, 1957)> PP» 67“77»

39q . p. leavis asserts that the rise of the large, middle class reading public is likely to be detrimental to Art, for she believes that the artist is limited by the quality of his audience since all but a few writers depend upon some cooperation from their readers* Ultimately then, the work of the popular writer is determined by the reading habits of his contemporaries* Fiction and the Reading Public, p* 215* A* S* Collins explains the growth of the writers' independence during the century as the result of several factors: the market presented by the new reading public, the increasing effectiveness of the copyright law and the break-up of the publishers' monopoly during the second half of the century. In Authorshin in the Days of Johnson he does not deal with the influence of the reading public upon the quality of literary work, but elsewhere he is definitely critical* "That literature ever became a profession, or, for the most of those who practice it, a trade, is one of those developments, which, when 29

During this period the public had a keen appetite for novels, and the publishers were in a position to sell practically anything.

Impecunious amateurs, dramatists, antiquarians, dilettantes, hacks, people with little education and less grammar seized this opportunity to make money and achieve fame by writing.**® But most of the novels of the period were produced by the 11 spinning-jennies," those women who, because of the improved education for middle-class women and because of increased leisure time, were able to seize this opportunity for obtaining money and amusement. It was the women who wrote, as well as read, most of the productions of the circulating library— an institution which was another mixed blessing, for although it con­ siderably enlarged the book market and made books available at lower rates, it encouraged the writing and reading of much trash. Because of their popularity and the inferiority of their stock in trade the circulating libraries drew much criticism, such as the familiar satire in The Rivals. Of course, not all of this criticism of the circulating library and the novel was based upon aesthetic objections; certain political and sociological considerations were also at work.

The objections to novel reading during this period have been summarized as follows: one looks back, seems all the way inevitable, but of which we cannot at times help but feel, that had the world done without them, it had done better.11 The Profession of Letters (London, 1928), p.

**®It is even reported that some of the novels published by I’rancis and John Noble were written by a group of hacks that they employed in a novel-factory. Tompkins, The Pouular Novel in England.' p. 23* 30

In the first place many readers felt that fiction was trivial, a diversion for youth without attraction for mature minds. As such it was beneath critical attention. On the surface this appears to be an aesthetic attitude, but since an ethical purpose was taken for granted by most eighteenth-century criticism such refusal to take fiction seriously as a "kind" is generally based on the feeling that moral earnestness, not artistic dignity, is lacking. In the second place the objections are purely moral. The novel was supposed to tear down the standards of a conservative Christian morality, to unfit the reader for the humdrum monotony of common life; and to consume the time that might be given to more useful reading or to serious thought. The third group of objections is aesthetic. For the most part they are confined to elementary censure of triteness, improbabil­ ity, and a perpetual quest for novelty of incident and setting.^1

As a result of these objections, readers adopted hypo­ critical attitudes about novels; for example, they borrowed them from the circulating libraries ostensibly for their servants or friends rather than for themselves. Writers tried various expedients to dodge the contemporary opposition to fiction; they wrote prefaces criticizing other novels and claiming that their writings were different, and they tried to give their works greater intellectual and. moral stature by inserting verse and long didactic passages.

Women novelists were in a particularly precarious position. At first critics were fairly tolerant of writers of the "fair sex," but the condescension of the critics seems to have been based upon definite ideas as to what women were to write. Lady novelists were expected

^W . F. Gallawoy, Jr., "The Conservative Attitude Toward Fiction, 1770 - 1830," FMLA, LX7 (1940), 1048. See also J. T. Taylor, Barly Opposition to the English Novel, pp. 1, 37* 31 to be a civilizing influence; delicacy in a woman was a sine qua non* Their novels were expected to be devoid of coarseness, with arach delicate analysis of sentiment, a show of sympathy, imagination, spontaneity, simplicity— no erudition or judgment was expected or encouraged*^ But, because of the lack of merit in most of their works and because of their role in society, most women novelists tended to publish anonymously and to plead, in curtsying prefaces, for tolerance from the critics by alluding to the prevalent ideas of feminine inferiority*

The fact that women writers with sin emotional emphasis in their novels were successful in the last part of the century emphasizes the ambiguous quality of this Age of Reason* Metaphysical truth had never been of primary concern, but there had always been a great interest in practical virtue, in "conduct, the definition and application of the general moral laws that should govern the behavior of man in society."^ But if this "hard-headed," utilitarian concern governed the content of eighteenth-century art, it was quickly forgotten in the choice of the mode of presentation: the popularity

^Tompkins, The Popular Novel in Englandt pp. 116-28. The problem of the woman novelist during the middle of the century is suggested by the following statement of Saintsbury: "It was, in fact, too early or too late for a lady to write a thoroughly good novel* It had been possible in the days of Madeleine de Scudery, and it became possible in the days of Fanny Burney: but for some time before, in the days of Sarah Fielding, it was only possible in the ways of Aphra Befcn and of Miss Haywood, who without any unjust stigma on them, can hardly be said to fulfill the idea of ladyhood, as no doubt Miss Fielding did." The English Hovel, p. 138.

^Tompkins, The Popular Novel in Bngland, p. 32 of the come'die larmoyante type of drama shows the susceptibility to and fondness for emotional excesses in art. During the latter half of the century the penchant of the middle class for emotional art was paralleled and perhaps reinforced by a prevailing intellectual current that stressed the natural goodness of man, the instinctive moral sense, and the merit of feeling as a moral guide. Thinkers as different as Shaftesbury, Berkeley, Hume, Adam Smith and Rousseau agreed on the value of feeling as an invaluable aid and perhaps the

/iA best guide in the realm of morality.

This intellectual sanction of feeling as a code of morality combined with the appetite of the audience for emotional situations to produce a trend toward sentimentalism in the novel, which was reinforced by parallel trends, both national and continental, in the

^ T h e exact origin of this philosophical tendency seems to be debatable. R. S. Crane ascribes the origin of the philosophy of the man of feeling to the theology of the earlier latitudinarian divines. For him the philosophy displays the following qualities: (l) virtue is regarded as universal benevolence, (2) benevolence is identified with feeling, (3) benevolent feelings are "natural" to man, (4) virtue produces self-approving joy. "Suggestions Toward a Genealogy of the 'Man of Feeling,'" BLH. I (193^0* 205—234. According to C. A. Moore the philosophy stems from Shaftesbury; see his "Shaftesbury and the Ethical Poets in England, 1700-1760," PMLA, xxxi (1916), 264-325. More recently James R. Foster has identified sensibility with deism, "deism used in its widest possible sense and meaning an eclecticism having as its central doctrine the belief in natural religion based on reason, and flexible enough to include the Locke of the Reasonableness of Christianity, the Pope of the Essay on Man. Bollngbroke, Voltaire, Shaftesbury, Rousseau, and, of course, the theological controversialists." Pre-Romantic Novel in England (New York, 1949), p. 5» This tender-minded deism differs radically, of course, from that deism which A. 0. Lovejoy finds as a parallel to classicism. See Footnote 14. 33 other literary forms.**^ Although in the drama one does find a classical residue in the respect for the "Buies" of Aristotle and in several pseudo-classical tragedies (watered-down Catos), audiences also welcomed romantic tragedies like Home's Douglas and domestic tragedies modelled after Lillo's The London Merchant. In addition to Shakespeare (frequently adapted) theater-goers demanded romantic melodramas and sentimental comedies* 46 It is true that the farces

-’in this century the relationship between the drama and the novel was particularly close; they reflect the same intellectual forces and the same audience demands. In looking for techniques, novelists borrowed them from the drama; furthermore, many novelists were also dramatists. Haleigh notes that Richardson capitalized on the interest in the drama and the habit of reading plays. By using a list of the dramatis personae and the "device of writing the narrative in dramatic form with the speakers' names recorded in the margin . . . it is as if the novel were merely a play with its frame­ work of stage directions expanded for the ease of the reader. And in this form the novel was bound to supplant the play with the reading public. To read a play with full intelligence is at all times difficult with an untrained reader, and the law of least possible effort can be as effectively illustrated from literature as from language. A new form of literature that had all the interest of the drama, but Imposed only the slenderest tax on the reader's attention and imagination, was predestined to success." Raleigh, The English Hovel, pp. 142-3* Miss Burney illustrates the interest of the novelist in the drama. She wrote several comedies and attempted several blank verse tragedies. (For a discussion of her plays see Joyce Hemlow, "Fanny Burney: Playwright," University of Toronto Quarterly. XIX (1950), 170-89.) Her knowledge of the theater is also revealed in her novels. In Evelina, for example, Miss Burney has her characters attend a performance of Congreve's Love for Love and then makes a comparison between her characters and Congreve's. As she shows in The Wanderer, the ton was interested in the theater, and one of its favorite amuse­ ments was the presenting of amateur theatricals.

^After studying the theatrical repertories for this part of the century, A. Hicoll observes: "It is not surprising to find that tragedy rapidly loses the position it held in the first half of the century. As season passes season we can see the nightly performances growing more heterogeneous and absurd. Farces, pantomimes, short melodramas, comic operas fill up the majority of the play bills; if a tragedy or a finer comedy is acted, it is accompanied by a mass &

and. the plays of humour and intrigue of Samuel Foote, Arthur

Murphy, and George Colman (the elder), and the comedies of manners

of Goldsmith, Sheridan, Hugh Kelly, and Arthur Murphy attempt to

combat the pervasive fondness for sentimental drama# But these

plays are in the minority, and some of them, like Kelly's False

Delicacy or Goldsmith's The Good Matured Man, are not effective

satires because they are too close to that attitude of sentimentalism

which they attempted to ridicule. The better sentimental dramatists

like Cumberland, Reynolds and Holcroft display some integrity in their

use of emotional scenes, but with the inferior dramatists such scenes

become mere theatrical treacle. The rationale of this type of drama—

so similar to that of the contemporary novel— is thus defined by

E, Bernbaum;

The drama of sensibility, which includes sentimental comedy and domestic tragedy, was from its birth a protest against the orthodox view of life and against those literary conventions which had served that view. It implied that human nature, where not, as in some cases, already perfect, was perfectible by an appeal to the emotions. It refused to assume that virtuous persons must be sought in a romantic realm apart from the everyday world. It wished to show that beings who were good at heart were found in the ordinary walks of life. It so represented their conduct as to arouse admiration for

of other less dignified attractions. At the same time a certain section of the audience at least called for more serious work of dramatic art, obtaining the revival of many tff the best among the older plays. Shakespeare is well represented .... The comedies of manners, still popular in 1750, continued to appear for a few yearB, but then were dismally altered or vanished completely. Early eighteenth-century sentimental comedy flourished, as, of course, did the sentimental comddies newly produced in the later years of the centuries. Allardyce Nicoll, A History of Late Eighteenth Century Drama, 1750-1800 (Cambridge, 1927), p. 108. 35

their virtue and pity for their sufferings. In sentimental comedy, it showed them contending against distresses but finally rewarded by morally deserved happiness. In domestic tragedy, it showed them overwhelmed by catastrophes, for which they were morally not responsible. A new ethics had arisen, and new forms of literature were thereby demanded. >

As hunters of Pre-Romantic tendencies are constantly pointing

out, the poetry of the period, like the other literary forms, also

displays a greater interest in emotion-provoking material; the

graveyard school of poetry, the interest in nature, in the sublime

and the pathetic, and the enthusiasm for medieval material; all of

these reveal the shift from classic to romantic. The latter half

of the century is a period of poetic diversity; amid this diversity,

Bertrand Bronson has found a variety of poetic styles which defy

classification but a community of subject matter with favorite

topics such as "Country Pleasures, Times of the Day, Seasons of the

■ Year, Abstractions— Pancy, Solitude, Sleep, Death— inviting descrip- ha tion, evoking feeling, tempting the moral comment."TO The efforts

^Ernest Bembaum, The Drama of Sensibility (Boston, 1915)• p. 10.

**®Bronson thus describes the poetry of the period: "What the poets were looking for was not so much a fresh poetical rhetoric that could be prescriptively established— a dominating, authorita­ tive Idiom to supplant the Augustan— as a set of fresh topics to stimulate poetic invention and feeling. Their sensibilities were in the main similarly aligned to the new appeals. But they were generally agreed that they did not want to repudiate the heritage of the recent past: only they did not want to be confined by it. They wished to extend their range of feeling and utterance; and, in their effort to do so, manner tended to be a little less controlling than heretofore. They were inclined to allow more scope for the development of a heterogeneous poetic utterance. As to style, they came to prefer eclectic habits, to scatter their allegiances." Bertrand Bronson, "The Pre-Romantic Mode," ELH, XX (1953)* 15-28. 36 of the poets to extend their range of subject matter, feeling and utterance are matched by comparable developments in the novel.

Throughout the century there was an influence from abroad upon the development of the novel. During the early part of the century the novels of Prevost, Marivaux, and Crebillon fils were popular and influential; in the seventies Rousseau, Voltaire,

Baculard d ’Arnaud and Madame Riccoboni were the French novelists whose works were best known. Wleland and Goethe were the only widely known German novelists until the very end of the century.^ In general these novelists are regarded as contributing to the strain of sentimentalism. Thus J. R. Foster sees the early sentimental novel as a mixture of Richardson blended with Marivaux; the novels of Frances Sheridan as a merger of the Richardsonian and Prevostian stream; the novels of Frances Moore Brooks as a fusion of Mme Ricco­ boni and Rousseau with a bit of Richardson added; Henry Mackensie's novels as a blend of some Rousseau, more Richardson, and even more

Sterne.-^® And unquestionably the English noveliests were Influenced by these continental writers: Miss Burney refers specifically in her Diary to Prevost*s Dean of Coleraine, which according to Foster left an imprint on Cecilia. S h e also refers to Marivaux in her

Diary,and in the Preface to Evelina, two of the six novelists she

^Tompkins, The Popular Kovel in England, Appendix I. -^Foster, The Pre-Romantic Hovel. Chap. VI. ^Ibid., p. 63. ^T h e Early Diary of Frances Burney. 1?68-1?78 (London, 1907), I, 45. praises are French. However, one has to be careful not to over­

emphasize the importance of such international influences, for, as

F, C. Green has shown, each nation tends to impose its unique cultural

characteristics upon its literature, $ 3 After studying comparable

French and English novelists, Green has concluded that although

there was some literary interaction between the native and foreign novels, there was probably no pervasive dominating foreign influence

and no literary development which would not have resulted from

indigenous forces.

In considering the types of novels of this period, one must

recognize that, although the definitions of the types may be clear,

the novels themselves are seldom easily and unquestionably identifi­ able as examples of any one type; there are so many variations or hybrids that labelling is difficult, if not misleading. This problem of classification is made more difficult because the generally accepted labels are terms that do not describe comparable attributes of the novel; thus, "Sensibility" used as a label in the phrase "Novels of

Sensibility" refers to the emotional effect the novel produces, and the type of morality it embodies; whereas "Gothic" as a lable in the term "Gothic Novel" refers to the setting, atmosphere and "materials"

C. Green, Minuet (New York, 1935)* ^or example, Green analyzes the conventional belief that Rousseau*s La Nouvelle Helolse and Laclos's Les Liaisons Eangereuses are derived from Richardson's Clarissa, Although willing to admit resemblances in these works, Green believes that the differences are even more significant, and he concludes that national traditions leave a heritage which great literatures are reluctant to surrender; in brief, "The cosmopolitan spirit left no deep or lasting imprint upon the imaginative literature of eighteenth-century Prance or England," Minuet, p, 3* 38 used in the novel. It is true that the emotional effects that the novels of sensibility are trying to achieve control to a certain

extent the setting, atmosphere and '’materials11 used, and that the use of the conventional details of the Gothic novel dictates a

rather specific and limited type of emotional effect. But this is

only roughly true, and there is an inevitable area of overlap in

this system of classification. Furthermore, every novel of the period

is influenced by the ubiquitous sentimentality.& However, the problem of classification is not essential here. For my purposes

the conventional classifications of Novel of Sensibility, Gothic

Novel, and Novel of Ideas will suffice, for Miss Burney did not write novels which fall into any one of these three classes; rather she borrowed from or was influenced by all three of them to a limited degree.

In the preceding discussion, the chief sources and character­ istics of sentimentalism have been fairly well defined; it was derived from and supported by the middle-class appetite for emotion and certain philosophical concepts which gave a primacy to the feelings.

-^One critic, W. F. Wright, finds that nearly all the novelists of the time were influenced by their faith in the great spiritual and moral values of the emotions— even the novelists of reform felt that emotions had more moral value than reason. Wright concludes; "The History of the English novel between 17&0 and 181b- is not that of the fortuitous accumulation of incident, scenes and characters but that of the development of a spirit • . . . It is the feelings which animated the novelists rather than the materials which the writers employed that reveal the nature of the development of fiction from the age of Walpole and Mrs. Brooke to that of Mrs. Eadcliffe and Lewis." Sensibility in English Prose Fiction 1760-1814; A Reinter­ pretation. Illinois Studies in Language and Literature, XXII, Nos. 3-b- (Urbana, 1937). P* 1^9. 39

The sentimentalism in the novel is in harmony with the dominant qualities in other literary forms, "both national end foreign, and with the general intellectual tendencies of the age— human!tarianism, medievalism, primitivism and those other isms which sire frequently subsumed under the label "romanticism.” At this point it is necessary only to point out one or two additional characteristics of the senti­ mentalism of the time, to describe the alteration in the quality of the sentimental novel, to note the most important practitioners, and to illustrate the qualities by reference to the novels of one of the better known writers of the Novel of Sensibility, Henry

Mackenzie.

The tendency in this type of novel is to show the characters in as many distressing situations as possible, not only to work on the emotions of the reader but to give the characters an opportunity to display their benevolence and their feelings of sympathy and pity.

The virtue of the characters was measured by their delicacy of response to painful situations; this delicacy became a form of ethical snobbery* Although the sentimentalists tended to explore all the emotions, their main scenes were those conducive to sadness and despair.

If the characters did not accidentally encounter distressing situ­ ations, they set out to find them: two lovers would read a tragic novel and cry together over the misfortunes of the characters.

Traces of both Richardson and Sterne can be seen in this type of novel, but the prudence of the former and the wit and sense of the ludicrous of the latter are inevitably lacking. Among the writers of this early school of sentimentality were Sarah Fielding, John i*0

Shebbeare, Thomas Amory, William Dodd, Oliver Goldsmith, Francis

Sheridan, Henry Brooke, and Courtney Melmoth. As a group all of these writers contrast with the later sentimentalists; at the same time they differ from one another in their use of sentimentality#

Perhaps the quality and range of this sort of sentimentality can be suggested by the following description.

Sterne created in Tristram Shandy and A Sentimental Journey combinations of humor and emotion which were popular in Sterne's own time and have been ever since— • works which showed how rich in experience could be the type of a person of sensibility. Brooke and Mackenzie portrayed men of feeling actively engaged in helping suffering humanity and in striving to turn an unfeeling world into a kingdom ruled by the heart. Goldsmith portrayed a simple and idyllic community inhabited by people whose most delightful qualities were their sympathy and kindness and their naive, unadulterated joys and sorrows. Mrs. Brooke found in sensibility the source of elegant manners, and she encouraged sentimental conversations as the expression of delicate feeling. Melmoth experienced a greater variety of emotions than did the others and was consequently transitional. He was important mainly, however, because, like all his sentimental contemporaries, he felt the pleasures which grief itself could yield to a man of sensibility.55

In time the nature of the emotional excesses in these novels began to change. Writers began to discard the contemporary domestic scene in order to find thrilling adventures and dramatic action in the past. The characters, instead of pursuing delicate emotions, began to be motivated by strong uncontrollable passions which were capable of completely reshaping character. Among the writers of this later school of sentimentality are Francis Sheridan, Clara Reeve,

55wright, Sensibility in English Prose Fiction, pp. ^5-^6 41

Sophia and Harriet Lee, Treyssac de Yergy and Henry Mackenzie, who

was probably the best novelist of the group and also one whose works

best show this shift in the quality of the novels of sentimentality.

His first novel, The Man of Feeling, is primarily a character sketch,

in which Harley, the hero, visits London where he helps such various

unfortunates as an old poverty-stricken soldier, a prostitute, etc.

Of course, he is completely unable to do anything to assist himself

and dies of love; actually the heroine loves him, but because of his

excessive sensibility, he does not learn this fact until he is on

his death bed. Indeed, his death may have been caused by his learning

from the heroine that she loved him. In this novel the settings are

the familiar domestic ones, and the actions are subdued, offering

the characters opportunities for speculation as well as a display

of sentiment. In his last novel Julia de Roubigne, Mackenzie combines

the plots of Othello and the Nouvelle Helol'se. Two lovers are parted

and the heroine, believing that her lover is married, marries a

rich Count. However, her lover returns, and they meet; the jealous

Count sees them and plots to murder them. Although the lover escapes,

Julia is poisoned and dies, proclaiming her marital fidelity. On hearing this, her husband kills himself. This violent action, which

characterizes the later novels of sensibility, is accompanied by

other trappings of sentimentality— a prevailingly gloomy atmosphere, 56 a romantic unused castle and a foreign setting*

56lt is this more extravagant type of sensibility that seems to reflect most strongly the influence of French novelists, in parti­ cular that of Prevost and D'Amaud. Prevost is known best for his Manon, although judging by editions printed, Cleveland was the most 4-2

It is easy enough to see how this tendency towards violent action in the later novels of sentiment combined with several other forces, in particular the interest in the middle ages, to produce the Gothic novel, ^ints of this type of novel had appeared in some of the scenes of Smollett and the settings of Prevost, but the genre was firmly established by Walpole in 17^3 with The Castle of Otranto,

Before looking briefly at the qualities of this novel and of the genre, it might be well to stop to note the implications of some of the remarks in Walpole's "Preface to the Second Edition." His doctrine, which could have been as important to fiction as the

"Preface to the Lyrical Ballads" was to poetry, is worth analyzing because it illustrates the attitude toward fiction taken at that time and almost ever since by many readers and critics. Novelists popular of his novels in England during the eighteenth century, D'Arnaud was his imitator and, in flights of sentimentality, his superior. He was "the dean of the composers of French ultra- sentimental novels. His name came to stand for maudlin sensibility or sensiblerie. To write a story like one of his is to bacularder or to produce a darnauderie, that is, a history of lovers born to suffer because of their tender souls and the prejudices and false standards of the world. Since D'Arnaud thought love paramount, in his opinion considerations of wealth and rank should not be allowed to separate lovers. Most of his heroines are plebeian, and all are simple, pure, utterly divine creatures, dwelling in country cottages or at least at a safe distance from the frivolous social circles of the cities. The heroes are great lovers, fluent speechifiers, but poor doers. They have the kind of hearts that give exquisite pain and voluptuous pleasure. The style of the darnauderie is wordy, declamatory, and similar in many ways to that of Mackenzie. The author is all for high passion intense emotions, gloom, fate and death. Not without cause has he been called a good undertaker's man. His forte is the somber setting; he loves to paint the lugubrious scene, the sinister landscape, the graveyard, the catacombs in Commlnge. or the hideous cavern full of cadavers in Makin. Sometimes he is inconsistent, sometimes puerile, and often he gives his reader a bad case of the dismals tinder the pretense of driving home a moral lesson," Foster, The Pre-Romantic Novel, pp, 193“^'» 43 like Defoei Richardson, and Fielding insisted upon the truthfulness of their novels; they attempted to adhere to Aristotelean concepts of probability in action and characterization and strove for veri­ similitude by embedding typical human beings in the realistic details of dress, custom, behavior, action and setting. Their approach contrasts with that of Walpole, as he describes it in these statements about Otranto:

It was an attempt to blend two kinds of romance, the ancient and the modem. In the former, all was imagination and improbability; in the latter, nature is always intended to be, and sometimes has been copied with success. Inven­ tion has not been wanting; but the great resources of fancy have been dammed up, by a strict adherence to common life. But if in the latter species Nature has cramped imagination, she did but take her revenge, having been totally excluded from old romances. The actions, sentiments, and conventions, of the heroes and heroines of ancient days, were as un­ natural as the machines employed to put them in motion. The author of the following pages thought it possible to reconcile the two kinds. Desirous of leaving the powers of fancy at liberty to expatiate through the boundless realms of invention, and thence of creating more interesting situa­ tions, he wished to conduct the mortal agents in his drama according to the rules of probability; in short, to make them think, speak and act as It might be supposed mere men and women would do in extraordinary positions.^

This is an unusual statement coming within twenty-five years after the publication of Pamela (the rather arbitrary time taken for the establishment of the novel as a genre). Generically speaking, the

•^Horace Walpole, "Freface to the Second Edition," The Castle of Otranto (London, 1929), p» lxxv. In his Preface to the First Edition, Walpole comments upon the use of pity and terror, the unity in his style with its lack of bombast, similes, digressions, and unnecessary descriptions, and the way all action points to the catastrophes. He claims that the characters are well drawn and still better maintained. He admits that the novel Is written to keep the reader amused in a variety of "interesting passions." novel wae regarded by everyone as being committed to the actual;

Indeed, its very acceptance depended upon an aversion, or a professed

aversion, to the imaginative, which was regarded as dldactively and

emotionally ineffective. But here is Walpole revolting against

Nature in behalf of Imagination. Unfortunately, his statement contains

an explicit concession by which its efficacy as a manifesto is almost

completely nullified: imagination is defended only for Its ability

to stimulate the author and the reader, for its ability to entertain,

to create "more interesting situations." When Walpole linked Truth

with "Nature," "actuality," "probability" and "common-life" and

identified Imagination with "improbability" and the "unnatural," he

established the True and the Imaginary as antithetical; if fiction

was to be regarded as possessing any truth-value, it was to be

restricted, henceforth, to verbal photography.

Although its Preface merely rephrased the contemporary

disparagement of imagination, Otranto itself was influential in

establishing a type of novel which has existed in some variation

ever since. By dwelling upon the unnatural and the supernatural,

it was responsible for expanding the emotional scope of the novel

to include wonder, fear and horror. The characteristics of the

Gothic novel are well known: the setting— the so-called Gothic

castle with its ruins, dungeons, secret passages and panels, creaking

^oors and fluttering tapestries; the characters— -refined maidens

endlessly persecuted, stalwart romantic heroes (frequently peasants

who turn out to be nobles), Byronie villains, and criminal monks;

the actions— a melodramatic sequence of frightening or pitiful situations; and all of this action enveloped in an emotional atmos­ phere of melancholy twilight, serene moonlight, ominous darkness or violent storms* The chief practitioners of the Gothic novel during the century were Clara Reeve, Ann Radcliffe, Sophia and

Harriet Lee, William Beckford and Matthew G. Lewis. While they all operated within the general characteristics of the type, they do display variations. In particular there is a difference in the extent to which they use the supernatural. Clara Reeve disapproved of Walpole's unrestrained use of the supematural— figures stepping out of pictures, gigantic arms and legs materializing; for her the supernatural was to he used in subtler ways: her ghosts inhabit only rooms known to be haunted. Ann Radcliffe was even more cautious: she used only the suggestion of the supernatural to obtain suspense and explained away all such suggestions at the end of the novel.

For his Gothic novel, Vathek, Beckford adopted an Oriental back­ ground, already seen in Arabian Rights and Rasselas, and attempted to use the miraculous and the magical to evoke wonder as well as pity and terror, the staples of the other Gothic tales. Matthew G.

Lewis shows the final development of the Gothic novel in his intro­ duction of gruesome detail to add horror to the pity, terror and wonder of the earlier Gothic novelists.-*®

•^®In addition to Gothic tales relying upon the three uses of the supernatural described here; namely, the unexplained super­ natural, the explained (artificial) supernatural, and the supernatural mixed with realistic descriptions of the abnormal for purposes of horror; Railo mentions the "scientific" Gothic tale of the Frankenstein type, which appeared in the next century. Eino Railo, The Haunted Castle (London, 192?), p. 46

In novels of this type one also finds certain recurring

themes such as the Wandering Jew and the Faust legend, which are

rarely or never found in the other types of novels* In addition to

extending the emotional range of the novel, the Gothic has also been

credited with introducing, in general, a more careful control of

plot and a greater attention to the description of setting. The

former quality grows out of the novelist*s desire to create and

maintain suspense; it is an almost inevitable result of the desire

to manipulate details for a sustained emotional effect. For the

latter innovation, the credit is usually assigned to Mrs* Radcliffe,

who succeeded in describing landscapes with a fullness of detail

not found previously in the English novel. Combining a Rousseau-

like interest in Nature with a picturesque concept of Nature—

picturesque in both senses since her Continental scenes seem to have

been inspired by the landscapes of Salvator Rosa— she wrote elaborate

descriptions of mountains and vales which were intended to produce

a romantic atmosphere that would harmonize with the primary "materials"

of the Gothic novel.

Finally, there is the third distinct type of novel that was written during the latter part of the century, the tendenz novel,

the novel of theory or doctrine, in which sensibility and reason unite to lead a revolt for various reforms. Motivated by a benevol­ ence which is closely akin to sensibility, Reason examines contempo­ rary injustices in the school, church, and state and ridicules and condemns various social and economic inequalities. The source of much of this criticism, which was a conservative variation of that spirit which led to the Revolution in France, seems to have been

Rousseau, although comparable political-social criticism was being evolved by England's •philoso'phes.^^ In any case, whatever the source

— -Rousseau, Holbach, Paine— there is at the basis of the movement for reform a belief in the innate virtue of man, in the corrupting influence of society and in the desirability of an ideal, simplified, but not primitive, state. These theories form the basis, for example, of the novels of education such as Brooke's Fool of Quality. Day's

Sanford and Merton and Inchbald's Art and Nature. Of the revolu­ tionary novelists, Holcroft, Godwin and Bage are probably the most important. Collectively they wrote some fifteen novels containing criticisms of war, judicial injustices, economic inequalities (mamy of which grew from the industrial revolution), clerical corruption, and the economic and social inferiority of women. Unfortunately these novels are purpose— ridden, for they usually present a sharp, almost mechanical contrast between the good and the bad characters and between contemporary society and the Utopian society in which the good characters live or are educated. Perhaps the best of these novelists is Bage, who without the social idealism of Holcroft or the democratic individualism of Godwin, kept his Revolutionary sympathies under the check of common sense end his didacticism pitched at a lower level. Although his plots are rather clumsily handled, he writes in a delightfully ironic style suggestive of that

-^Allene Gregory, The French Revolution and. The English Hovel (New York, 1915), pp. 30-^8. 48

of Jane Austen. But on the whole, although the novel of purpose

was useful in that it extended the range of subject matter of the

novel, most of the individual novels are of little aesthetic value.

In discussing the types of novel which were most frequently-

written during the last third of the eighteenth century, no mention

has been made of the novel of manners, simply because there was no

group of writers that can be regarded as writing that type of novel.

This does not mean that the novels of Miss Burney represent a

completely isolated literary phenomenon. Novels as popular as hers

were bound to be influential, but their influence is to be found in

scattered bits of imitation such as the drawing of similar character

types rather than in an overall similarity in design or tone.

Charlotte Smith, Mrs. Agnes Maria Bennett, Elizabeth Todd and Eliza

Blower are those most frequently identified as imitators of Miss

Burney, but they are too sentimental, didactic or meladramatic to be considered as successful novelists of manners. It is only with

^Although different reasons are offered as to why her con­ temporaries did not capture the quality of her novels, none of the historians of the novel suggests that Miss Burney had any real imitators during the eighteenth century. James R. Foster points out several characters modelled after characters found in Miss Burney's novels, but he adds that "many admirers strove to write novels like hers but failed because personalities cannot be imitated, and it was the personality of Fanny Burney that made her work interesting. As we have seen, the Lee Sisters borrowed from her, and Charlotte Smith did too. The author of Harcourt, or the Man of Honour (1780) signed the novel as 'by the authoress of Evelina, • but no one was taken in. The Conquest of the Heart (1785)« a fairly interesting story, Oswald Castle, or The Memoirs of Lady Sophia Woodville (1788), Juliette, or the Cottage (1789)• and Elizabeth Todd's History of Lady Caroline Rivers (1788) are some of the humbler imitations." The Pre-Romantic Novel, p. 223* k-9 the novels of Maria Edgeworth and Jane Austen that one finds, as in the novels of Miss Burney, the successful use of "manners" as a pervasive principle of novelistic organization.^1

This description of the main types of novels of the last third of the eighteenth century indicates the principles of organization by which they were written: the didactic-emotional purpose of the

Novel of Sensibility, the emotional purpose of the Gothic Novel and the didactic purpose of the Novel of Ideas. Obviously, it would be impossible to make many generalizations which would fit precisely the details of plot, characterization, theme, setting and style of these different types of novels; yet studies such as that of J. M. S.

Tompkins show that there is a remarkable, almost predictable, uni­ formity in many of their details; for example, the character of the heroine of the Gothic novel is quite likely to be like that of the heroine in the Novel of Sensibility. The uniformity in the action was recognized and commented upon by the novelists themselves; the author of Argal, or the Silver Devil warns his readers that his novels contalk:

No cross papa with his Phenix of a daughter, so beautiful, mild, benevolent, dutiful, in spite of persecution. No heroine, who, when she is distressed, prefers starving in

0iIt is not my purpose to determine the extent to which Maria Edgeworth and Jane Austen were influenced by Miss Burney, but surely there are unquestionable traces of influence. Both Baker and Saints- bury, for example, note the similarities between Miss Edgeworth's Belinda and Miss Burney's Evelina and Cecilia. Miss Austen's familiarity with the work of Miss Burney is attested in various places: for example, in Northanger Abbey she refers to the works of both Miss Burney and Miss Edgeworth, and she draws the title Pride and Pre.iudice from one of the last chapters of Cecilia. 50

a garret on the miserable pittance she earns by painting fan-mounts, to affluence with a man who, does not in her opinion equal another, that has treated her with contempt. No heroine who most heroically revenges herself upon her­ self, for the supposed infidelity of her lover, and fore­ going the pleasures suitable to her age, mortifies in the country by a constant round of visits among the dirty inhabitants of the dirty village immersed in medicines, beggary and salves. No sprained ankles, convenient hospital cottages, neat old women, which their wonderful daughters, harpsicords, books • , • • 2

With but slight variation these plot detailB would describe many of the Novels of Ideas and the milder forms of the Novels of Sensi­ bility, Many of the more violent Novels of Sensibility have plots like that of The Morning Ramble, or the History of Miss Evelyn, which was thus described by the Monthly Heview:

A young lady in love with her supposed uncle,— An old dotard in love with the same young lady, his supposed granddaughter. These amours made honest by the help of a gypsy, whose child the loved and loving fair one is said to be,— Her virgin chastity attempted by the ancient lover, and rescued by the younger,— Her virgin chastity again attempted by the friend of her beloved Adonis, and again rescued by a mad adventurer,— The rescued fair conducted by her new inamorata to the mouth of a dismal cave (in which he threatens instantly to end his life before her eyes, unless she consents to repay his services with those charms which he had preserved) and there terrified into a promise of marriage,— A third ravishment, and a murder, introduced for the sake of variety and entertainment, into the husband's story of himself,— The wife, unmindful of her holy vow, on a sudden suffering her first passion to kindle,— Her husband in a fit of jealousy, encountering his innocent rival,— The helpless fair rushing between their swords,— Wounded,— Expiring.— Lamented* This is a true bill of fare of The Morning Ramble,

Quoted by Tompkins, The Popular Novel in England, p, 58, For another satire of the conventional characterization of the hero and heroine of these novels, see Taylor, Early Opposition to the English Novel, pp, ^-^8. 51

A very pretty, romantic sentimental morning's entertain­ ment for Miss in her T e e n s 5

What a number of the commonly encountered qualities of the novel

are suggested by this satirical synopsis; the fondness for strong

scenes such as the attempted rapes, the abductions, the violent death,

the lament, the heroine's being rushed from one distressing situation

to another, the repetition of incidents, the flirting with the theme

of incest, the mistaken identities, and the dangers of dueling.

The modes of organization as well as the actions of many of

these novels are quite similar. Until the end of the century most

of the novels used the epistolary mode, frequently with some type

of introductory frame explaining how the "editor" obtained the

letters. Using this convention, authors ignored probability almost

entirely to create suspense by ending letters with the heroine

hearing shrieks just before fainting, and then explaining these

shrieks in the next letter, or perhaps several letters later. Near

the end of the century, however, there was some improvement in plotting,

perhaps as a result of the influence of Fielding and the French novel­

ists, but more likely as a natural result of the problems imposed

by the Gothic novel. Critics began to question the inclusion of

irrelevant material such as philosophical disquisitions or inter­ polated narratives. At the same time novelists began to try for

a greater dramatic effect, possibly because a few of them were

dramatists— Holcroft, Cumberland, Inchbald. They tried to use

^Qpoted by Tompkins, The Popular Novel in England, pp. 60-6l, 52 dialogue to characterize as well as to advance the plot and attempted to characterize and portray emotions by particular action

and behavior rather than by stylized and conventional gestures.

These novelists, however, were in the minority and, in the main,

even though plots begin to show a greater unity at the end of the

century, there was still little connection between charajcter and

action* The actions in the plot and the principles of composition

in these works were selected to generate emotions within the reader by subjecting him to edifying pictures of benevolence and suffering,

rather than to create a coherent illusion of reality.

The satiric description of conventional improbabilities of

action by the author of Argal (pages k-9~50 above) also indicates

some of the conventional characteristics of the novelistic heroine:

she is beautiful, benevolent, prudent, mild, dutiful, patient and

submissive— Griselda was the patron saint of eighteenthr-century heroines. The heroes, of course, were the masculine counterparts of these feminine paragons. Despite the novelists' expressions of concern with probability and actuality, the main characters were unreal because they were presented as being without fault, a weakness which can be explained by the moral preoccupations of the times and by the current aesthetic concepts. The moral concern is seen in

Clara Reeve's criticism of Fielding for describing human nature as it is, rather than as it should be.

Young men of warm passions and not so strict principles are always desirous to shelter themselves under the sanction of mixed characters, wherein virtue is allowed to be predominant .... On the contrary no harm can 53

possibly arise from the imitation of a perfect character, though the attempt should fall short of the o r i g i n a l . ^

The influence of aesthetic concepts is also responsible for the same­ ness of characterization; the adherents of the eighteenth-century

doctrine of uniformity insisted that human nature was everywhere the

same and that this sameness— not the number of streaks in the

individual tulip— should be the subject matter of Art. Critics and writers might sense that characters should be particularized enough

to be something other than mere labels, but the actual presentations were nearly always types rather than unique combinations of various

traits.^

With the great stress upon the didactic function of the novel,

it is inevitable that many themes should be stated rather than dramatized. An explicit recognition of didactic purpose is found in philosophic novels such as Johnson's Rasselas (1759)» as well as in the novels of purpose of Brooke, Holcroft, Godwin, etc. But in addition to the more obvious concern with politics, education, and

^Clara Reeve, The Progress of Romance, I, 139* In another frequently quoted passage, Miss Reeve indicates her feelings about poetic justice and the overall tone of a novel* "Books of a gloomy tendency do much harm in this country, and especially to young minds; — they should be shown the truth through the medium of cheer­ fulness, and led to expect encouragement in the practice of social duties, and rewards for virtuous actions.*1 The Progress of Romance. II, 25.

^"Actually, the taste of the age did not in general extend farther than was necessary to include the seadogs of Smollett, whose peculiarities, though strongly enough stressed, still suggested certain categories. Peculiarity stayed most often within the range of the definable, not venturing into the infinity of individual characterization. The principle of uniformity, with its satellite, •probability1 was apt to stand by the eighteenth-century reader's elbow in all important occasions." Houghton W. Taylor, "'Particular Character': An Early Phase of a Literary Evolution," JFMLA, LX (19^5), 165. religion in the Novel of Ideas, ohe finds such themes asj the value of benevolence, the need for filial obedience, the dangers of dueling, gaming and intrigue, the dangers of the practical morality of a Chesterfield, the danger of the seductive melancholy of Werther, and the contradictory, but somehow compatible myths of progress and the noble savage. In the cases of Bage, Eolcroft, and Godwin, these ideas were expressed because of a sincere concern with the principles involved; in many instances, however, the themes were added merely because they blended so well with the prevailing didacticism and sensibility. In relatively few novels was there any humor; what there was tended to be crude farce or whimsical sensibility.

In the imaginative use of detail these novels were also weak; on occasion some of the authors with a greater sense of drama would introduce more significant detail to assist the reader in visual­ izing the action and the scene, but in general, the detail used in presenting the action and background was likely to be stylized and general. Unfortunately, although the action thus described might be made vivid, it was usually not dramatic; that is to say, it failed to contribute to both the characterization and the plot development.

Just as the delineation of individual character is restricted by the principle of uniformity, so the presentation of background is limited by an aversion to the specific details making for particularization.

Whatever background there is tends to be stereotyped and to fall into two classes; a sort of genre painting, usually of interior scenes, which relies almost entirely upon conventional descriptive detail; or a more elaborate type of description of picturesque outdoor 55 scenes such as those found in the novels of Ann Radcliffe. These descriptions, which are used to establish mood and to offer clues to a character*s sensitivity, portray either realistic English landscapes or generalized verbal pictures based upon the paintings of Claude, Rosa, and Poussin*

The novelists of this period were lacking in literary style*

In view of their scanty education, this lack of literary skill is not difficult to understand. Some of the better writers make use of two styles. The first consists of an attempted realistic repro­ duction of speech; this style is used in comic scenes between the low characters. The second is an elaborate, rhetorical style used in the speeches of the hero and the heroine and in the narration of sentimental scenes. This modulation of style to fit scene is not entirely successful in the hands of most novelists, as we shall see when we examine the style of Miss Burney. However, it is obvious that even in stylistic matters the novelists of the time were willing to sacrifice realism for other effects.

As has been suggested many times in this paper, the novel during this century is a new form groping for formal principles; unfortunately, its development was abetted by very little truly perceptive criticism. Paradoxically, the early critics of the novel insisted, as did the writers themselves in their prefaces, that fiction be true and instructional. In the middle years of the century some novelists confessed that their works were fictional, but they would then insist that they were entertainingly instructive; very few novelists were as brash as Sterne was in admitting that he 56

wrote only to entertain. Most of the criticism of the time was

based upon earlier criticism of the drama and the epic, obtained

either from formal critics or from novelists like Fielding and

Richardson, who made use of dramatic and epic criticism to define

and defend their productions. Critics writing for magazines like

The Monthly Review or The Critical Review were likely to judge novels

for their morality, to summarize the plot and to quote lengthy pas­

sages of "beauties" or "defects," Comments about novelistic structure

were based upon the familiar categories of epic criticism: fable,

characters, sentiments and diction. These terms were applied very

mechanically since the critics of the period were incapable of any

imaginative application of critical ideas found in such suggestive

prefaces as those of Fielding, Two significant developments in

criticism did take place during this period: first, critics abandoned

their anti-romantic prejudices of the early part of the century to

give at least temporary sanction to more romantic creations such as

the Gothic novels; and second, partly as a result of the histories

of the novel by Clara Reeve and John Moore, both critics and readers 66 began to recognize and accept the novel as a worthy art form.

^"During the eighteenth century, we might say, a great litera­ ture had sprung into being, but it failed to meet with its Aristotle, its Longinus, or its Horace, By painful steps the critical world had gradually come to realize its existence and even to set forth a very few specific criteria by which it might govern itself. Only at the very end of the century, however, had the critics begun to comprehend the significance of the novel which they had long been prone to relegate scornfully to girls and women. It remained for the nine­ teenth century to develop a theory adequately estimating so renowned a genre," Joseph Bunn Heidler, The History, from 1700 to 1800, of English Criticism of Prose Fiction, University of Illinois Studies in Language and Literature, XIII (1928), 171, CHAPTER II

Evelina

Before analyzing Evelina, I should like to consider very- brief ly the problem of criticizing a novel, the particular problems presented by Miss Burney* s novels and the criteria to be used in judging them. Until fairly recently, there has been comparatively little formal criticism of the novel that has offered any real insight into the genre, into the way the story gets told. The last of the major types to arrive on the literary scene, the novel has been regarded with suspicion by the more erudite critics, a suspicion which its great popularity has strengthened rather than weakened. As was pointed out in the first chapter, the novel, evolving during the age when the genre concept was at its strongest, derived the criteria for its criticism ultimately from the Poetics* novels were tested by the application or mis-application of state­ ments found in the Poetics concerning the qualities of plot, character, thought and diction recommended for the drama. Most of the criticism of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries dealt with the probability of the events, the vividness of rendering, the real­ ity of characterization and the "philosophy1* of the author. In general, this criticism has had its basis in a concept that the novel, like history, has an obligation to duplicate reality by

57 58 playing the part of "the mirror dawdling down the lane.""*"

Within the last thirty yearst however, this concept of the novel has been radically altered. She change in attitude is in part due to the novels and criticism of writers like Henry James and Flaubert, who insisted that the novel was a work of Art. An awakening of Interest in the problems of technique was demonstrated as early as the Twenties with the criticism of Percy Lubbock, Edith

Wharton, Carl Orabo, Edwin Muir, and E. M. Poster, and more recently with the so-called Hew Criticism. Although this New Criticism brings to the critical act a great deal of knowledge from such fields as linguistics, psychology and sociology, it has also tried fairly consistently to see literature as art rather than as history, journal­ ism, sociology, philosophy or morality. Admittedly, the New Criticism, which has a basically linguistic-semantic oriontation, has been applied more widely and perhaps more profitably to poetry, but recently it has begun to show its value in analyzing the novel— in 1950 Richard

Blackmur suggested, or warned, that we were in for a new criticism of the novel. In practice, this criticism of the novel has been chiefly

*Almost all the best criticism has come from the artists, but until fairly recently the novelists themselves have not been much concerned with defining their techniques. Even Fielding, whose critical awareness was noted earlier in this dissertation, was primarily concerned with the problem of recording "the truth /according/ to nature." In 1932 Joseph Warren Beach commented upon the weakness of novelistlc criticism before 1920 and the lack of an adequate critical vocabulary with precise, generally understood terms for de­ scribing novelistlc techniques. He states that "the only English writer in the past who has given extended and detailed consideration to questions of technique is Henry James." The Twentieth Century Novel (New York, 1932), p. 59

concerned with the implications of "point of view," with language,

symbolism and mythic tendencies; hut even less formal problems such

as the influence of the author's personality upon his work or the

examination of an author's "philosophical" beliefs are discussed in

terms of the way that they influence technique or are conveyed by

technique.

Indeed, at the present time many critics f e d that modem criticism of the novel is too concerned with technique and that too great a concern with technique is fatal for both the novelist and

the critic. Lionel Trilling, for example, speaks of the "concerted

effort of contemporary criticism to increase the superego of the novel" and warns that a "conscious preoccupation with form at the present time is almost certain to lead the novelist, particularly

the young novelist, into limitation."^ John Aldridge offers this appraisal of modern criticism:

In our concern with form we have neglected the question of source, which would take us back to both society and the mystery of the creative process, and the question of end which would take us forward to both society and ethics. Probably for this reason the criticism we now have functions best in relation to works in which rigid adherence to form and thematic complexity rules these questions safely out of order. We have at hand distinguished studies of the James novel, the Joyce novel, the Dostoevski novel, the Kafka novel, the Conrad novel, the Hemingway novel, and the Faulkner novel; and we have them, at least to a certain extent, because these novels readily lend themselves to the kind of performance which our critics are best able to give. But we must not forget that they are also the novels which are most

^The Liberal Imagination, pp. 260, 264. 60

deserving of our time and of our criticism; and if it were not for the fact that, because they are so deserving, th&y threaten to produce a criticism which has forgotten hov to Judge, we should he ready to forgive them altogether*3

Obviously, a formalist criticism which appears to advantage only

with tightly organised, thematically complex works and tends to

avoid judgment would have a limited value in analyzing the compara­

tively simple novels of Miss Burney; therefore, in this case a

pluralistic critical technique rather than any one particular

critical approach will be most serviceable* Some critics, of

course, are following such a procedure— selecting whatever critical

technique best brings out in a novel those qualities by which they

believe novels should be judged* These qualities vary with different

critics and are variously stated; but most critics of the novel seem

to be judging it by criteria which are basically similar to those

enumerated in this passage by Dorothy Tan Ghent:

The sound novel, like a sound world, has to hang together ae one thing* It has to have integral structure* Part of our evaluative judgnent is based on its ability to hang together for us* And like a world, a novel has individual character; it has, peculiar to itself, its own tensions, physiognomy, and atmosphere* Part of our judg­ ment is based on the concreteness, distinctness and rich­ ness of that character* Finally, we judge a novel also by the cogency and illuminative quality of the view of life that it affords,the idea embodied in its cosmology* Our only adequate preparation for judging a novel evalu- atively is through the analytical testing of its unity, of its characterizing qualities, and of its meaningfulness— its ability to make us more aware of the meaning of our lives.*'

3john W* Aldridge, "Preface," Critiques and Essays on Modern Fiction, p. v*

**Dorothy Van Ghent, The English Novel (New York, 1953)* P* ?• Here* then, is a set of criteria by which the novels of Miss Burney can be judged— unity* characterizing qualities and meaningfulness*

These criteria are superior to those discarded earlier in the chapter (plot, character* thought* diction) primarily because they ask of the critic that he constantly attempt to look for distinctive features and that he consider the Influence of any one element

(plot, character* thought) upon other elements and upon the work as a whole; in a sense there is some value in the vagueness of the terms* Admittedly the mere establishment of these criteria does not take one far along the road to sound critical judgments* It completely dodges such fundamental aesthetic problems as the reason for desiring unity in a work of art; furthermore* the criteria are disconcertingly vague when one actually confronts a novel* Does unity, for example, refer to the unity of James, Gide,

Kafka, Hemingway or Joyce? Are there not certain instances in which unity is willingly sacrificed for distinctness or for meaningfulness?

Questions like these can never be answered easily* but the criteria do call for the use of Informative analytic techniques; they are sign posts to indicate a critical direction* and they are terms that become more meaningful with illustration* If these criteria are established as questions to be answered, they should offer inform­ ation about the value of Miss Burney's novels and the ways in which they differ from other novels and among themselves*

In considering the unity of Bvellna* it will be helpful to establish as a working hypothesis, a description of the controlling 62 principle of structure which, will explain both the purpose and the effect of the various elements of this n o v e l Evelina is concerned with the problem of establishing an inexperienced seventeen-year old girl in an appropriate position in her society; achieving this position depends upon her attaining both a husband and official recognition of the nobility of her birth* As a result of her own actions, the actions of others and of fortune( the heroine encounters a series of circumstances which alternately advance and impede her progress toward these goals* Unfortunately, this summary of the plot, this formulation of a principle of organization for Evelina,

■5This approach to the novel is modeled on an analysis of Tom Jones made by R* S. Crane to be found in Critics and Criticism (Chicago, 1952), pp. 616-J171 and added suggestions in Crane's The languages of Criticism and the Structure of Poetry (Toronto, 1953)* The approach of Crane and the group of critics whose work is found in Critics and Criticism is neo-Aristotelean, and it is opposed to the linguistic-semantic orientation of much modem criticism* It, in turn, has been the tqrget of several critical barrages for being sterile, inordinately distrustful of verbal analysis, of being genre- ridden, etc* It is not my intention to get caught in the crossfire of this controversy between differing schools of criticism, but in defense of the "neo-Aristoteleans" it may be said that their concern with the emotional effect of the plot does focus attention on both the overall effect and the detail; whereas many other modern critics of the novel work with the small elements of style and either Ignore the larger elements such as the action, or operate on the question^ able assumption that the meaning and emotional import of the larger elements parallel the qualities of the smaller units such an the language or symbols* The new Aristotelean criticism may tend to ignore content, and it may be weak in supplying significant criteria for Judgment, but as a technique for analysis, it is extremely use­ ful* For criticism of the neo-Aristoteleans see K* Burke, A Grammar of Motives (New York, 1945). PP* 465-4-84; ¥. K. Wimsatt, The Verbal Icon (University of Kentucky, 1954), pp* 41-65; Eliseo Vivas, "The Neo-Aristoteleans of Chicago," SR, LXI (1953)» 136-49* ^or a debate about the Chicago School of Critics between S* F. Johnson and R. S. Crane, see The Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism. XII (1953“ 54), 248-6?. 63

1b so general that many novels would fit the description*^

Evelina differs from these other novels chiefly in the series of

circumstances in which the heroine is placed. These circumstances

are designed to present a diversified picture of urban eighteenth-

century aristocratic and middle-class society. A somewhat more

adequate interpretative hypothesis of the novel might he formulated

by drawing upon Miss Burney's prefatory statement that the attempted

plan Is "to draw characters from nature, though not from life, and

to mark the manners of the times." But this statement will not

suffice for a complete hypothesis of the novel, not only because it

involves us in the intentional fallacy, but because it ignores the

emotional force of the novel. It represents a policy concerning

characterization— the novel will deal with probable characters but not actual, historical people— and an indication of the area from which the subject matter is to be chosen* The statement gives us

6The use of the word plot is troublesome in that it frequently means a summary of the action. In this sense of the word, plot is condemned by many critics such as E. M. Forster, who feels that superior novels should be concerned more with portraying character than narrating action. However, plot as used by Aristotle has two senses: one somewhat similar to that given above— a synthesis of the things done or said in the work* But plot for Aristotle was also the "soul" of the work, the entire object of imitation with action, characters, language, etc., as they are directed toward a particular emotional effect. The plot of a tragedy, for example, "is nothing more or less than its whole object of imitation as this is imaginatively constructed, with its necessary specifications of moral character and states of mind, by the poet and embodied by him, in ways appropriate to his chosen manner of imitation, in the words of his poem; it is the total Imitated action of the poem as qualified ethically in such a way as to produce the special 'tragic pleasure.'" B. S. Crane, The Languages of Criticism and the Structure of Poetry, p. 66. The working hypothesis for the novel is identical with the plot according to this latter definition of the term. 64 no Information about the emotional power which arises from the selection of detail* Let me elaborate upon the preceding statements and then attempt to formulate a hypothesis for Evelina which seems to comprehend more adequately both the details and their emotional impact*

Evelina purports to offer a picture of the manners of the time; this picture is not presented directly to the reader but it seen refracted through the vision of the heroine* It is the world as it appears to her* The choice of a youthful protagonist as the

Central Intelligence makes it possible to subject familiar places* persons, actions and things to a naive examination, an ingenuous curiosity and to offer the reader a chance to see them in a fresh perspective* In order that "the manners of the time" be seen by

Evelina, it is necessary that she be exposed to a diversity of experience, and in order that the novel may have emotional power, it is essential that this diversity of experience have Hsignificance" for her* If this social detail is not made significant so that it influences the heroine (and the reader), the novel is likely to be distorted into a book of travel or etiquette* (The major fault of

Humphrey Clinker is that much of the travel material lacks this viable connection with the welfare of the characters*) The detail is given significance by presenting it so that it influences the heroine's possibilities of attaining her birthright and a suitable husband: Miss Burney establishes very early in the book that the plot is directed toward these two goals* She also endows the heroine with qualities that make the reader desire her to be successful, and at the seune time, by describing Mr* Villars'

anxiety and his failure with his earlier protegees. Miss Burney

makes the reader fearful that Evelina may be unsuccessful*

Although the reader's emotions will vary as he follows the heroine's progress, the emotional range is not a wide one, perhaps from a tolerant amusement to a mild anxiety. The predominant mood

is a comic one based upon several varieties of comedy, such as

satire, wit, broad humor, and farce. This mood is maintained in part by Miss Burney's treating the "serious" situations rather hastily so that the reader, even though he may feel a mild anxiety for the heroine, is never allowed to attend for long to painful

actions or their possible disastrous consequences; he is never serious­ ly in doubt as to her ultimate success. 3Por example, once the pattern of indiscretion, estrangement, and reconciliation has been estab­ lished in Evelina's relationship with Lord Orville, it is difficult to believe that the novel will not conclude with their marriage, and

Miss Burney reinforces this optimism by her presentation of the characters of the hero and heroine. Evelina is shown to be both virtuous and intelligent; her mistakes are due to ignorance and inexperience rather than any inherent character faults. The entire temper of the novel (and the Preface) suggests an authorial attitude that will not permit such a character to be too harshly punished*

Lord Orville is quickly characterised as being both forbearing and discerning; therefore, it seems obvious that he will accurately

Judge Evelina's character and position* The comic mode is also apparent in the selection of the supporting cast of characters* With but few exceptions, they are chosen for satiric purposes; the novel portrays a variety of different character types, nearly all

of them contrasting with the more idealized presentations of Evelina

and Lord Orville and offering a picture of the follies of mankind as

these reveal themselves in social behavior. Occasionally, the comic mode becomes farcical in situations in which the humor depends almost

entirely upon physical action, as in the scene in which Captain Mirvan

spills Madame Duval and Monsieur Dubois into a mud puddle as they

leave Banelagh, Occasionally the comic tone is interrupted by

sentimental and melodramatic scenes aimed at producing stronger

emotional effects. These are not numerous, and, of course, they do

not produce a mood which is truly antithetical to the more pervasive

comic spirit. The novel has none of the elements of tragi-comedy,

since the more extravagant displays of sensibility occur as a result

of Evelina's happiness, not her unhappiness.

With the background of the preceding paragraphs, it is now possible to frame the following interpretive hypothesis for Evelina,

Evelina is a novel which establishes as goals for the heroine the public recognition of her birthright and the attainment of a satis­ factory husband. In the course of achieving these goals she en­

counters a diversity of experiences and people, most of whom serve

to retard or advance her progress toward these goals and simultane­ ously to delineate contemporary social behavior. As a result of

the characterization of the heroine, hero and their antagonists,

the reader wishes to see her succeed, and he feels a mild anxiety for her in those predicaments in which she becomes enmeshed as a result of her own inexperience and ignorance, or of the actions of others,

or of chance. Tet the difficulties she encounters are treated

rather lightly, so that the action establishes a basically comic mood which harmonizes with the prevailingly satirical treatment of

the other characters whose behavior helps to mark "the manners of

the time." With this plot hypothesis for Evelina, let us examine

some of the details of incident and character to see how the novel

is organized to establish and maintain a unity of plot. (In view of the fact that every critical approach has its limitations, that as

Bichard Blackmur says, "No approach opens on anything except its own point of view and in terms of its own prepossessions," the particular value of this consideration of plot— in the extended sense of the term— is that it tests Evelina at the points at which it is most likely to be weakest. As a novel of manners it faces the problem of unity, of avoiding the episodic quality of the picaresque novel, the didacticism of the travel book and courtesy book, the discursiveness of the familiar essay and the character sketch; as a novel written during the all-pervasive sentimentality of the last thirty years of the eighteenth century, it faces the problem of maintaining a comic tone without succumbing to the philo­ sophy of sensibility and the structural conventions of sentimentality.)

Evelina is written in the epistolary form; the first few pages consist of a sequence of seven letters between Mr. Villars and

Lady Howard. In a comparatively few pages considerable exposition is presented to the reader: he learns of Evelina's parentage, her background and her character. Other characters, such as Madame Duval, Sir John Belmont and Captain Mirvac., are mentioned, and eome of these axe briefly characterized* In these fifteen pages not only is the reader supplied with the family background necessary to make the subsequent action meaningful, but he is informed of the two major goals towards which the action is directed: the discussion of Evelina*8 parentage focuses attention on one problem, and Mr*

Tillars* “desire to bestow her on one who may be sensible of her worth” defines the second goal* Furthermore, the material is pre­ sented in such a fashion as to arouse the reader's curiosity and concern* The opening lines of the book ("Can anything, my good Sir, be more painful to a friendly mind, than a necessity of communicating disagreeable intelligence?") are perhaps lacking in the elegant irony of Miss Austen's more famous beginning of Pride and Prejudice, but they are not ineffective in arousing the reader's curiosity*?

The curiosity is increased by keeping Evelina offstage until the reader is anxious to hear somewhat more directly from the subject of these early letters* At the same time, the disclosure of Mr*

Villars' failure with his earlier wards and his fear of London introduces a mild concern for Evelina's welfare, a concern which arouses anticipation as the reader follows that seemingly inevitable sequence of events by which Evelina goes first to Howard Grove, then to London*

?The effectiveness of the introduction is somewhat lessened by the type of generalization which follows* “Indeed, it is some­ times difficult to determine, whether the relator or the receiver of evil tidings is most to be pitied*" Frances Burney, Evelina, ed* Frank D* Mackinnon, (Oxford, 1930)* P» AL1 subsequent references to Evelina will be made to this edition* 69

With Evelina’s visit to London the first of the three major actions in the novel is underway* *t begins with a very- brief description of play-going, walking in the Mall, and shopping visit8, which suggests the ways in which urban society spends its time* The plot takes several positive steps forward with the

Stanley's ball at which Evelina meets Lovel and Lord Orville and is seen by Sir Clement Willoughby* This scene and the following one at the rldotto should be examined in some detail, for they are

Q typical of many in the novel* At the Stanley's ball, which is the first event that Miss Burney ttfies to render in any detail, Evelina's vanity is slightly offended by the insolent attitude of the men who saunter about examining the women for dancing partners* She is further incensed and amused by the impertinence and fopplehness of

Lovel when he asks her to dance with him. After rejecting him, she subsequently accepts an invitation from Lord Orville, who in appear­ ance and behavior contrasts sharply with Lovel* Lord Orville’s appearance, his elegant behavior, her ignorance of etiquette, the social world and contemporary London life, her inexperience at such social affairs, her being informed that Lord Orville is a noble, the hectoring of Lovel— all these combine to make her behave in a giddy, awkward fashion and to place her in a bad light in Lord Orville's eyes* In this episode we have the pattern for much of the subsequent action* Because of a combination of fortune— in this case Mrs* Mirvan is absent and hence unable to advise Evelina when Lovel approaches

^Evelina, pp. 48-59* hex'— and Ignorance, Evelina commits acts which are embarrassing for her because she fears that she will be unfairly Judged by someone whose good opinion she values— usually Lord Orville*

Observe how this pattern is repeated with but slight variation at the rldotto* Here, Sir Clement, who was attracted to Evelina at the Ball, accosts her and invites her to dance* Showing something more of ballroom propriety, she declines his invitation by claiming that she is already engaged, but Sir Clement by his verbal dexterity succeeds in forcing her to grant him a dance. When she later implies that her partner is Lord Orville, Sir Clement, much to her consternation, thrusts her upon him when they are unfortunately

Joined by Lord Orville and Mrs. Mirvan* Mortified, unable to explain the lie, she bursts into tears; however, Lord Orville accepts the situation generously and seems quite able to understand and overlook her Irregular conduct*

Upon analysis, one sees that the pattern of these two scenes has considerable value in establishing that hypothesis which has been offered as a definition of the plot of the novel* Plrst, both scenes very obviously mark the "manners of the time," but this picture of society is presented in a functional way* One is not given an elaborate description of the setting, or a list of the types of activities, or a manual of conduct for young ladles* Instead one sees Evelina moving from room to room in search of the protection of Mrs* Mirvan, who is playing cards; one sees Lord Orville getting

Evelina a glass of lemonade; one learns of correct behavior by

Evelina’s violating it* The social detail is presented obliquely through the action and frequently with an emotional linkage} the

picture of the men sorting out the women for partners is not only

social description, hut it is presented with Evelina's reaction*— a

touch of vanity and a determination not to accept the first male

who asks her to dance* She variety of character-types in this

society is suggested by the behavior of the poeple encountered in

these scenes* The foppishness* impertinence* vanity* and spiteful­

ness of some of these males is suggested by the behavior and speech

of Lovel; just as a more aggressive, clever* subtly licentious

behavior is indicated by Sir Clement* and the best traditions of

aristocratic, lively, considerate, and intelligent behavior are

displayed by Lord Orville*

Second, the masculine attention that Evelina receives at

these affairs makes it possible for the reader to infer that the

Initial steps are now being taken toward the goal of obtaining a

suitable husband for her-— it is apparent that the problem resides

not in finding a husband* but in finding a suitable husband* Miss

Burney's presentation of Lord Orville (his frequent accidental en­

counters with Evelina* the description of his appearance and behavior

and the Impression that he makes on Evelina) suggests to the reader

that he is the suitable husband* On the other hand, Lord Orville,

although he obviously finds Evelina attractive, forms a poor opinion of her at the Stanley's ball* as evinced by his description of her

("a poor* weak girl,8 "ignorant or mischievous8); yet his intelligence and tolerance suggest that this impression can be eradicated* Indeed*

the reader can infer that her giddy behavior has already been forgotten 72 when Lord Orville sends a messenger to inquire about her health on the morning after the ridotto— -these two scenes display both a quantitative and qualitative progression. However, not only do they initiate the steps toward one of the plot goals, but they also indicate that there are obstacles preventing a marriage between Bvelina and Lord

Orville, obstacles such as the difference in their classes-— she imagines him thinking of her as a “simple rustic"— and the inter­ ference of such suitors as Sir Clement— he calls on the morning after the rldotto,

Finally, what is the effect of these two scenes upon the emotions of the reader? !Fhey are obviously designed to be amusing: there is the satiric portrait of Lovel, who in trying to be elegant actually presents an absurd figure with his extravagant affectations in appearance, behavior and speech. Then, Sir Clement's conversation has considerable wit: his mock anger at Evelina's absent partner and his exaggerated professions of grief at her Indifference to his claims of affection are entertaining: the reader enjoys the wit of his adroit vesbal evasions and counterattacks. Furthermore, Miss

Burney handles the presentation of Bvelina in order to sustain a basically comic mood. By this time the reader must have determined from the letters of Lady Howard, Mr. Villars and Bvelina that Bvelina is amiable, generous, sincere and, in spite of her behavior at these two social gatherings, fairly intelligent. In other words, the reader tends to feel a certain degree of sympathy for her and to hope that she will be successful; this feeling is strengthened by the caliber of the forces opposing her, which would include in these two situations 73

(and in several others) her own ignorance and inexperience, Lovel,

Sir Clement, and fortune*

On the basis of these two scenes it would appear that her

" antagonists" will ultimately fail*^ Evelina's letters and her observations about people Indicate that she is intelligent and capable of overcoming her social ineptness* She is capable of perceiving the absurdity of Lovel, and she intuitively distrusts

Sir Clement, so that the reader has reason to believe that she will not be defeated by their deceptions* Lovel, a comic figure, seems ineffectual as an antagonist, and one somehow feels that, although he, Madame Duval, the Branghtons and Lord Merton may cause Evelina much discomfort, they are incapable of producing her ultimate failure*

Sir Clement cannot be so lightly dismissed. Evelina can perceive his nature and purpose; yet he may be successful through effrontery and trickery; he does succeed in getting his way with her at the dance* His success in this instance ("Thus did this man's determined boldness conquer") produces the suggestion of a possible seduction, which lurks in the background throughout the entire novel* It is perhaps not accurate to regard fortune as an antagonist, for in her handling of the plot Miss Burney uses fortune to assist as well as to embarrass Evelina; for example, chance aids in furthering Evelina's

9io view these first two scenes as an epitome of the novel, or as seminal episodes in which certain major actions are started and certain patterns disclosed may seem to be reading too much into them. However, a detailed consideration of the next few episodes, which would make the patterns more evident, would make this analysis too long, and I believe that the statements being made here will be validated by the generalized treatment of the entire novel which follows* 74 acquaintance with Lord Orville by bringing about many accidental meetings between them; yet chance frequently produces these encounters at inopportune moments*

It can be said, then, that the characters of Evelina, Lord

Orville and their antagonists are such that the reader Is led both to desire Evelina's success and to have reason to believe that she will be successful. As indicated in the previous paragraph there are reasons to be concerned for her welfare; the reader is still subject to a certain degree of suspense, but the pattern of action in these episodes indicates that although Evelina may encounter some embarrassing situations, she will experience no lasting or drastic unhappiness• By a complex set of inferences— more difficult to explain than to intuit in reading the novel— dealing with char­ acters and action the reader is prepared to view Evelina not as a tragic character but as a "comic" character, one for whom he feels an amused concern* Amusing her behavior certainly is as she flits from expedient to expedient to avoid Sir Clement* The reader's concern is also minimized by Evelina's own attitude toward events, for in narrating the action she describes her emotion at the time of each event and also her attitude toward it at the time of writing*

Her Introductory comments about the evening's activities ("Yet I blush to write it to you!"), and her calm moralizing during her narration of the action ("But falsehood is not more unjustifiable than unsafe") surely do not suggest to the reader that he is to regard these episodes as having serious or tragic implications*

Taking his cue from various phrases which she uses to describe her conduct ("I felt extremely foolish," "eaid I peevishly," "I really could not help laughing," "I was dreadfully abashed," "Pool, to involve myself in such difficulties," etc*), the reader views these experiences in much the same light that Evelina herself views them while writing of them* With the benefit of her cues, the reader, seeing the episodes from over the shoulder of the letter-writer, finds her toe-dragging performances considerably more laughable than

Evelina herself found them at the time they occurred*

The technique for dissipating the reader's concern is best illustrated in the passage which may be regarded as the climax to the scene at the ridotto* Evelina is trying to explain her predica­ ment to Mrs* Mirvan and Lord Orville:

"No, Madam," cried I, "— only— only I did not know that gentleman, and so,— and so I thought— I intended— I— “ Overpowered by all that had passed, I had not strength to make my mortifying explanation; my spirits quite failed me, and I burst into tears* They all seemed shocked and amazed* "What is the matter, my dearest love?" cried Mrs* Mirvan, with the kindest concern* "What have I done?" exclaimed my evil genius, and ran officiously for a glass of water* However, a hint was sufficient for Lord Orville, who comprehended all I would have explained* He immediately led me to a seat, and said, in a low voice, "Be not distressed, I beseech you; I shall ever think my name honored by your making use of it."10

In this scene the seriousness of Evelina's bursting into tears is mitigated in several ways* First, although the crying may be mortifying for her, the reader sees that hex offense is rather Alight

IQSvellna. p, 58 her plight may seem dire to her, but a few words of explanation can

set all aright. Secondly, it is difficult to read Evelina* s stam­

mering, faltering diminuendo without being amused. When she bursts

into tears, the attention does not dwell upon her feelings but

immediately shifts to the solicitude and actions of the others. The

indignation which the reader might feel towards Sir Clement is

largely dissipated by her elaborate epithet for him ("evil genius")

and by her somehow comic description of his running "officiously for

a glass of water." Thus, by handling the graver episodes quickly,

by directing attention away from the heroine and by minimizing the

consequences of her behavior, Miss Burney manages to keep the reader

from regarding as too painful the "serious" moments in Evelina*s

contretemps.

It is impossible to discuss all of the book in this detail,

but it is possible by discussing the three major actions of the novel

in general terms and by dwelling upon some of the more significant

sections in greater detail to point out the way in which the plot

unity is maintained or violated. By this time the first major

action is well underway. Evelina has met a suitable candidate for

a husband and several "threats." It is now necessary that the

second strand of the plot be woven into the action. The birthright problem is introduced by having Evelina and the Mirvans meet Madame

Duval; this meeting postpones the departure of Evelina and the

Mirvans from London, which would have meant separation from Lord

Orville. The encounter warrants some discussion because it indicates

a weakness in Miss Burney*s plotting. By handling this event to 77 develop a maximum amount of surprise* she needlessly violates probability and Imposes upon the reader's credulity. Knowledge of

Madame Duval's Intention to claim Evelina is given the reader at the beginning of the book; hence her appearance in London* although un­ expected, is not unbelievable. What is unusual is the manner of her being introduced into the novel: through sheer accident she meets

Evelina while sharing a coach with the Mirvans as they return from

the Eantocinl. Her identity is concealed until after her altercation with the Captain in which she is shown to be a vulgar* conceited* bad tempered woman— then it is revealed that she is Evelina's grand­ mother. (Admittedly, at this time in London the possibilities for encounters between friends were perhaps great enough so that the frequent chance meetings in the novel should not be too seriously questioned; the wealthy and aristocratic families in London were few enough to know one another well* and presumably all the members of

the ton would be indulging in whatever series of entertainments happened to be currently fashionable.) What is objectionable here is the accumulative effect of the coincidence: the chance meeting combined with the careful concealment of Identity, the exhibition of Madame Duval's character, the chance remark by which the identities are disclosed— all this exceeds credibility. After the surprise of the meeting has worn off, the reader must regard Madame Duval with apprehension: her behavior does not mark her as an ideal guardian.

Her threats of taking Evelina to France cause the reader to anticipate future difficulties. 78

But the most Important immediate effect of the encounter with Madame Duval is that it postpones the Mirvans1 departure to

the country and enables Evelina to increase her familiarity with

London life. In the next few days, she visits Banelagh; her cousins,

The Branghtons; Cox1 a Museum and the theater. In this sequence of visits one can see the ways by which Miss Burney avoids making the novel a mere Baedeker of London. The places visited! the objects seen and the behavior observed are not merely recorded; they are observedi commented upon( and frequently argued about by Captain

Mirvan and Madame Duval. In their quarreling, the Captain and

Madame Duval are sources of copious social criticism in their remarks about the external world, their comments about one another's manners and taste, and their self-incriminating remarks and behavior.

The Captain stands accused and self-betrayed as a boisterous, frude, vulgar, insensitive hater of all things french, elegant or cultured; he is saved, if at all, by his bluff, hearty outspoken candor.

Madame Duval stands accused and self-betrayed as an elderly, vain coquette, obsessed with the foppery and artificiality of fashionable life and nearly as insensitive to the feelings of others as the

Captain; she is redeemed, if at all, by the abuse she takes from him.

By presenting the conversation and behavior of these two, Miss Burney manages to widen her swath to include social commentaries upon the collection of "gewgaws" at Sox's Museum, the behavior of the dandies at the theater, and the fashionable modes of amusement and dressing.

These commentaries are presented dramatically as consequences of the conflict between these two characters* Unfortunately their domination of the scene is so complete that Evelina is frequently relegated to a position of observen-narrator; furthermore, while the social commentary is presented in an animated fashion, the discussion may have little pertinence for Evelina*s future* However, Miss

Burney tries to make such scenes relevant to the main plot line by keeping the behavior of the characters significant, even if the subject matter of their arguments may not be* Inevitably, she has

Sir Clement and Lord Orville join the Mirvan party, and, in their presence, the behavior of the Captain and Madame Duval constitutes a threat to Evelina*s relationship with Lord Orville* She Captain

"laughs and talks so terribly loud in public that he frequently makes us ashamed of belonging to him11; Madame Duval's behavior is equally discomforting; moreover, her presence always poses the threat of an embarrassing disclosure about the anomaly of Evelina's parentage*

This linkage of social material to the main action is weak; however, such weakening of the unity is tolerable since it does not happen too frequently, and since the verbal wrangling of the Captain and

Madame Duval has a certain vividness at this point in the novel*

The episodes dealing with the relatives of Madame Duval, the

Branghtons, are linked more effectively to the plot, for in these scenes Evelina seldom becomes the mere observer as she does in the

Mirvan-Duval bouts* She participates, although often reluctantly, in their conversations, and when the Branghtons are quarreling among themselves, she may be the subject of the Quarrel* Whenver she appears in public with them they are a constant concern because she 80 is ashamed to have her aristocratic friends such as Lord Orville know that she is related to such people. In the scene in which she attends the opera with them one finds the plot material integrated into a pattern similar to that noted in the first two scenes* Their invitation came as an annoyance since she had already planned to go with the Mirvans; the peremptory, vulgar invitation by the Branghton girls is rejected, but Madame Duval's more insistent, equally vulgar demand has to be honored because it is made in Sir Clement's presence; a flat refusal might provoke an open quarrel in which her family background would be made known* Therefore Evelina visits the opera with the Branghtons, and this social event is pictured for the reader by the Branghtons' reaction to it. "Their ignorance of whatever belongs to an opera" results in a variety of entertainment which

Evelina herself would have found diverting had she "not been too much chagrined to laugh*" The penurious Mr. Branghton objects to the prices and tries to obtain a lower price because he iB buying several tickets, and the Branghton sisters make Interesting comments upon the ladies' dresses* As for the opera itself, it evokes many comments during and after the performance*

When the curtain dropt, they all rejoiced* "How do you like it?-— and how do you like it?" passed from one to another with looks of the utmost contempt* "As for me," said Mr. Branghton, "they've caught me once, but if ever they do it again, I'll give 'em leave to sing me to Bedlam for my pains: for such a heap of stuff never did I hear; there isn't one ounce of sense in the whole opera, nothing but one continued squeaking and squealing from beginning to end." "If I had been in the pit /with the tog/," said Madame Duval, "I should have liked it vastly, for music is my passion; but sitting in such a place as this is quite unbearable*" 81

Miss Branghton, looking at me, declared, that she was not genteel enough to admire it* Miss Polly confessed, that, if they would but sing English, she should like it very well* She brother wished he could raise a riot in the house, because then he migit get his money back again* And finally, they all agreed, that it was monstrous dear*1*

In view of such criticism, Evelina's snobbish reaction is under**

•tandable; when she notices Sir Clement approaching, apprehensive lest he hear Miss Branghton call her cousin, she abruptly leaves the

Branghtons to have Sir Clement escort her to the Mirvans* Because of her impetuosity, she places herself once again in an embarrassing situation, for Sir Clement succeeds in getting her into his coach and makes an abortive attempt at seduction*

Again in this episode, although the reader may be concerned with Evelina's welfare, he does not anticipate any serious consequence*

The tone of the entire sequence is not mournful or tragic• The letter describing these events begins with a casual tone that dispels any fear that Evelina has been seduced ("I have a volume to write of the adventures of yesterday")• The reader also has the pattern of past action from which to make inferences* Furthermore, he knows that Lord Orville is hovering in the background ready to play Sir

Charles Grandison if need be; he knows that Evelina is quite aware of Sir Clement's licentiousness (although she never mentions it explicitly in her letters); he knows that, although Sir Clement id licentious, he probably would not dare to resort to extreme physical

llEvellna, pp. 116-17* violence; and, finally, the very texture of the letter with its

concerned, but undismayed, tone and its elegance of language

indicates that no serious harm has befallen Evelina* These qualities

are apparent in the following passage:

And so saying, he passionately kissed my hand* Never, in my whole life, have I heen so terrified* I broke forcibly from him, and, putting my head out of the window, called aloud to the man to stop* Where we then were I know not, but I saw not a human being, or I should have called for help*^

In the second paragraph the switch in time designated by the tenses

("have I been so terrified*", "I know not") makes the reader aware

of two points in time (the time of the events being described and

the time of the letter writing) and also makes clear that the letter writer is obviously safe and views the events as frightening but not catastrophic* In the first sentence of the second paragraph

Evelina breaks the narrative flow with a generalization; in the last

sentence she conjectures, from a point of safety, about the part of

London in which the events occurred— not where they were occurring*

Finally, the elegance of the language (the inverted word order of the last sentence) does not indicate a horrified attitude on the part of the letter writer*

Thus in this scene unity of the plot is effectively maintained the reader is treated to an amusing satire of lower middle-class affectation and to a picture of eighteenth—century society at the opera; yet this material is closely integrated with one of the main

123Bvelina, p* 123* 83 strands of the plot. By behaving in a proud and impetuous fashion

Evelina gets herself into a somewhat precarious situationt but through Miss Burney’s manipulation of the scene, the reader does not feel that this action becomes so melodramatic that it conflicts with the prevailing comic tone of the book. He is concerned with Evelina's welfare in the scene and curious as to what effect her behavior with

Sir Glement may have upon Lord Orville. The harmless aftermath of this episode— -Lord Orville is waiting to greet her when she arrives home— strengthens the reader's conviction that Evelina's dilemmas axe designed primarily for amusement rather than apprehension.

After this episode, there is one more large scene at the

Pantheon in which the satire is enlivened by the animosity between the Captain and various foppish aristocrats including Lovel, just as in the earlier scene at the play dramatic conflict is provided by the disagreements among the Captain, Madame Duval and Lovel. After this scene Volume I draws to a close and with it the end of the first major action. There is a separation, simply geographical in this case, between Lord Orville and Evelina when the latter leaves

London for Howard Grove. However, Miss Burney uses the second plot strand to arouse the reader's curiosity by having Madame Duval initiate a correspondence with Sir John Belmont in an attempt to enstate

Evelina as his daughter. This unresolved action, the explosive con­ junction of Madame Duval and Captain Mirvan at Howard Grove, and the promise of a visit from Sir Clement contain suggestions for the action of Volume II.

The second volume begins at Howard Grove with an interlude 8^ describing the fake robbery, the hoax which Captain Mirvan plays upon Madame Duval*^3 Based upon a clumsy sort of intrigue and phys­ ical action, it is of the comic mode, but it deviates from the general comic tone almost as widely as some of the melodramatic scenes*

Although eighteenth-century readers found it acceptable, this epidode, a Smollett-like version of a similar incident in She Stoops to Conquer, may see to twentieth-century readers, too crude to be humorous for it presents a situation in which they may find it difficult to sympathize with either the trickster or the tricked* The modern reader*s distaste may be mitigated by noting these factsalthough

Captain Mirvan is a boor, he does have about him a certain commend­ able bluff honesty; one feels that at times he acts as Miss Burney's mouthpiece in condemning fashionable absurdities* By virtue of her using him in this role, Miss Burney gives him a certain weight with the reader who tends to tolerate his triumph in any dealing with

Madame Duval. Furthermore, everyone at Howard Q-rove, including Lady

Howard, is involved in the conspiracy against Madame Duval; therefore, the reader is inclined to adopt an attitude of forbearance at the questionable morality of this baiting* Just before the event Evelina rather explicitly characterizes Madame Duval as cowardly, bad tempered and ignorant; she does not merit too much sympathy* During the actual

^Evelina, pp* 171-191*

■•■vjhe need to note the comic ingredients in this farcical scene suggests that the twentieth century may have its own brand of sentimentality; furthermore, the presence of this scene suggests the distance between Miss Burney and the writers of sensibility at this point in her career* 85 perpetrating of the hoax, she remains an unsympathetic character for her stupidity in not detecting the absurdity in the burlesque robbery and for the quality of her reaction ("She was sobbing, nay almost roaring, and in the utmost agony of rage and terror"), a de­ scription which suggests a childlike, temper-tantrum* The description of her behavior gives the entire scene a quality of slapstick*

Her feet were soon disentangled, and then, though with great difficulty, I assisted her to rise* But what was my astonishment, when, the moment she was up, she hit me a violent slap in the face**5

The comedy of this farcical episode is extended by the description of her appearance, by her behavior in throwing her wig at the servant, by Evelina's attitude ("Though this narrative almost compelled me to laugh, yet I was really irritated with the Captain"), and finally by the self-incriminating language through which Madame Duval constant­ ly displays herself as a hoplessly vain, ignorant woman: on the way back to Howard Grove after the hoax, Evelina suggests that Lady

Howard may be able supply her with a cap, but Madame Duval replies:

"Lady Howard, indeedl Why, do you think I'd wear one of her dowdies! No, I'll promise you, I sha'n't put on no such disguisement. It's the unluckiest thing in the world that 1 did not make the man pick up the curls again; but he put me in such a passion, I could not think of nothing* I know I can't get none at Howard Grove for love nor money, for of all the stupid places ever I see, that Howard Grove is the worst! There's never no getting nothing one wants*"1®

^^Evelina. p* 185*

l^Evelina. pp* 189-90* 86

It is difficult to feel much sympathy for Madame Duval when she insists upon maintaining this triple-negative attitude of disdain*

After this incident the plot returns to action aimed more directly at achieving the plot goals* and the second major action begins* Sir John Belmont writes a letter refuting Mr* Villars' claims* yet hinting at some decisive action in the "not very distant future•"

This rejection of Sir John’s arouses Madame Duval to threaten to take Evelina to Paris and confront Sir John* but after a lengthy argument with Mr* Villars she compromises by accepting his offer of allowing Evelina to spend one month with her in London* And so

Evelina has opportunity to Increase her familiarity with London; this time it is a more bourgeois London* seen in the company of middle-class companions* In presenting the reader this picture of middle-class vulgarity and affectation* Miss Burney manages most of the time to keep Evelina implicated in the action; she does not quarrel directly with the Branghton family but may be the cause of, or the subject of * any one of their frequent squabbles* The presentation of domestic and social life is interwoven with the plot goal of finding a husband for Evelina, for several unsatisfactory suitors begin to surround her. Mr* Smith, the Holborn beau with aspirations for gentility* hints that she might cause even an inveterate bachelor like himself to consider marriage; his obvious partiality to Evelina arouses the jealousy of Miss Biddy Branghton*

Tom Branghton manages to forsake his childish heckling of his sisters long enough to have Madame Duval propose to Evelina for him* Finally there is Monsieur Dubois, who becomes very attentive and

ultimately proposes, much to Evelina's distress, not only because

his attentions are unwanted but because they will bring down upon

her the wrath of Madame Duval* They do, and it is this jealousy

that is ultimately responsible for her being returned to Berry Hill

and for the end of the second major action of the book*

The reader, of course, realizes that none of these suitors

will have Evelina's approval. Her description of them shows that

she appraises them correctly* But there is always a slight concern

lest she be forced into marriage by family obligations, trickery

or physical force. Furthermore, the reader wonders what effect

this strange entourage will have upon Sir Clement and Lord Orville,

who must inevitably be encountered at some amusement spot* Such

is indeed the case. Sir Clement appears at their outing to Vauxhall

Lord Orville at Marybone. The accidental encounters with the gentle­ men are similar to the contretemps of Volume I* While visiting

Vauxhall, Evelina, at the instigation of the Branghton sisters

accompanies them unescorted through the garden paths. Here they

are accosted by a group of drunken rioters, who, mistaking them for prostitutes, immediately make advances. Evelina is saved from this group by Sir Clement, only to be subjected to his unwelcome overtures

Finally her resentment of his behavior convinces him of her virtue, and he returns her to the Branghtons, where he immediately is used by Miss Burney as a foil to expose the ignorance, affectation and vulgarity of the Holbora set. In his call upon Madame Duval and

Evelina the next day, both Sir Clement and the Branghtons are made 88

to appear ridiculous. He is humiliated by the sheer force of

Madame Duval's invective against him for duping her at Howard Grove;

and they are made to appear cowardly and sycophantic when they cower before his anger but then forget his faults upon learning that he has a title.

Lord Orville's introduction to Evelina's new acquaintances is delayed until near the end of the volume. In this instance Evelina

is separated from her friends when she is excited by the noise of fireworks. She is accosted by strangers and seized upon by two prostitutes. It is* of course* at this point that she is seen by

Lord Orville; however* because of her snobbery* this embarrassment

is exceeded when he later requests:

"Will Miss Anville allow me to ask her address* and to pay isy respects to her before I leave town?" 0 how I changed color at this unexpected request! — yet what was the mortification I suffered, in an­ swering, “My Lord, I am— in HolbornJ"17

But a brief visit to Holborn by Lord Orville clarifies the situation at Marybone and introduces a new feeling of intimacy between them.

This is jeapardized for Evelina when she is forced by the Branghtons to borrow Lord Orville's coach when they sire caught in a rain storm at Kensington Gardens. This impropriety, which is compounded by an unrequested visit made to Lord Orville by Tom Branghton in which the latter solicits business* calls for a letter of explanation by

Evelina. She receives a disrespectful, insinuating letter signed with Lord Orville's name— actually her letter was intercepted

^Evelina, p. 298. 89 i Q and answered by Sir Clement. At this point Evelina, distressed by such treatment from Lord Orville, is dispatched for home by the

Jealous Madame Duval, when the latter Interrupts Monsieur Dubois1 proposal to her. She returns home and, to Mr. Villars1 surprise

and distress, gives herself up to moping.

At this point I should like to comment upon the way in which

this return to Berry Hill is handled to reduce the sentimentality.

Frequently in using the first-person point of view, an author

achieves dramatic irony by suggesting to the reader that a character's statements and actions have implications that the character himself is unaware of. When done artfully, this presen­

tation of two "realities” gives a certain depth to the presentation of character. Miss Burney uses this technique in the way she manages Evelina's references to Lord Orville so that the reader can infer that Evelina is much more attracted to Lord Orville than

3-^To modern readers this letter does not seem disrespectful, but according to R. W. Chapman, "an inflexible law forbade correspond­ ence between marriageable persons not engaged to be marriedH--quoted by Frank D. Mackinnon, ed. Evelina. Appendix IX, p. 581. Proof of the existence of this "law” is found in Miss Burney's own experiences; several years after the publication of Evelina during Miss Burney's labors as Keeper of the Robes, she received a very impersonal note from one of the equerries, Colonel Digby, signed "Very truly and sincerely yours." Miss Burney wished to communicate the contents of the note to the Queen but was dismayed at the prospect of allow­ ing the Queen to see it. Diary and Letters of Madame d'Arblay. ed. Austin Dobson (London, 1905)» IV, 8/+-8&1 This incident is interest- ingly described by Emily Hahn, who suggests that Fanny was really glad to be forced into revealing the note to the Queen, for it almost compromised Colonel Digby. Admittedly Miss Burney was attracted to the Colonel and his latter marriage to Miss Gunning upset her considerably. The portion of her Journal written about the time of this marriage was rewritten by the aged Madame d'Arblay before publication. Emily Hahn, A Degree of Prudery (Hew York, 1950), pp. 273-4-. 90

she acknowledges to Mr* Villars, or perhaps to herself* For example,

at the rldotto she notices Lord Orville alone and thinks:

It was not impossible that he might join us; and tho1 I did not wish much to dance at all,— yet, as I was more acquainted with him than with any other person in the room, I must own I could not help thinking it would be infinitely more desirable to dance again with him, than with an entire stranger*19

Her partiality is noticeable in several other places, yet always

couched in terms of praise for his virtues rather than in terms of

any feeling she might have toward him* The reader is rather amused

at this sort of deception, and this amusement and his curiosity to

determine whether the deception is intentional make interesting a

section of the novel that might otherwise be unbearably sentimental*

When Evelina first arrives at Berry Hill, her "heaviness of heart"

is somewhat puzzling since she had earlier expressed a willingness

to quit London (Lord Orville had already left town)* This melancholy

is attributed by the reader to the separation from Lord Orville, but the exact nature of the separation is only revealed when, in answer to Maria Mirvan1 s charges that she is mysterious and reserved,

Evelina indicates the contents of the letter supposedly from Lord

Orville* Her grief, she claims, arises from learning of the flaw in her paragon; she insists it is only this and adds:

Yet perhaps I have rather reason to rejoice than to grieve, since this affair has shewn me his real disposition, and removed that partiality, which, covering his every imperfection, left only his virtues and good qualities ex­ posed to view* Had the deception continued much longer,

3-9Evelina, p* 48* 91 had my mind received any additional prejudice in his favor, who knows whither my mistaken ideas might have led me? Indeed I fear I was in greater danger than I apprehended, or can now think of without trembling,— for oh, if this weak heart of mine had been penetrated with too deep an impression of his merit,— my peace and happiness had been lost for everl^O

But she is singularly unable wto rejoice" at the situation*

She counters Maria's raillery on the subject (expressed in a letter which Miss Burney does not "include" in the book) by still pro­ fessing that her dejection is impersonal and rational and originates

in her finding the flaw in the paragon and in her concealing Lord

Orville's dereliction from Mr. Villars. Still, even when she has

confessed to Mr. Villars, who concludes that Lord Orville was

drunk at the time of writing the letter, she is not restored to happiness* In a letter to Marla she denounces Lord Orville because his intemperance has "levelled him with the rest of his imperfect

race" and caused "his reason to be thus abjectly debased"; she finds

consolation in Mr. Villars1 explanation that her indignation arises from her disappointment at discovering Lord Orville’s duplicity*

Her letter concludes with these lines, which for the reader seem

ironic:

Concealment, my dear Maria, is the foe of tranquility: however I may err in the future, I will never be disingenuous in acknowledging my errors* To you, and to Mr. Villars, I vow an unremitting confidence* And yet, though I am more at ease, I am far from well: I have been some time writing this letter, but I hope I shall send you, soon, a more cheerful one* Adieu, my sweet friend* I entreat you not to acquaint

^Qffivelina. p* 92

even your dear mother with this affair; Lord Orville is a favorite with her, and why should I publish that he deserves not that honor?^1

Evelina doth protest too much* Her ambiguous statements produce an Intellectual detachment within the reader as he tries to discover her true emotion, and he is amused by her rather clumsy attempts at artifice and the irony of her promises to be candid at the very moment when she is being most disingenuous; all thesd details combine to make Evelina an amusing Instead of a pathetic figure*

The second volume ends with Evelina's letter to Maria Mirvan from Bristol Hotwell where she has been taken because of her illness, the plot device which makes possible a further exploration of society and introduces the possibility that some explanation will be found for the letter producing the estrangement between Lord Orville and

Evelina* With the end of this second major phase of the action, one can also observe that there is a climactic pattern to the Lord

Orville-lvelina relationship. During her second stay in London, they reached a state of greater intimacy than during her first visit*

Although Lord Orville has seen Evelina's Holborn friends, he still retains his interest in her and has made his concern for her welfare most obvious* Conversely the separation which occurs at the end of this second phase seems more drastic: it is not merely a geographical one— the distance from London to Berry Hill— but also an emotional rift resulting from Lord Orville's supposed breach of decorum* This second volume, then, ends with the fortunes of the heroine at low

^ •Evelina, p. 33^• 93 ebb: she is alienated from the man best suited to be her husband and her claim of birthright has been categorically denied by her father* The reader* of course, does not view the situation as seriously as does Evelina; the obstacles have been presented in a manner that suggests they are surmountable*

In considering this volume, I have not mentioned the episodes dealing with Macartney because to a large extent this affair con­ stitutes an interpolated narrative; as such it breaks the plot unity*

It is true that his presence is used to arouse the reader1 s curi­ osity; his politeness and his poetic interests and ability contrast with the ill-mannered, materialistic behavior of the Branghtons, and his poverty and loneliness afford Miss Burney a chance to show

Evelina's courage, sensitivity, and charitableness; but the melo­ dramatic episode describing Evelina's disarming him, and his letter narrating the details of his modified-Oedipus personal history are interruptions basically irrelevant to the plot and incongruous with 22 the comic mood* ** Although Miss Burney tries to give this episode

^Evelina. pp* 227-31* 283-91* This event does have some elements of comedy probably not intended by Miss Burney* When Evelina sees Macartney leaping up the stairs with his pistols and immediately concludes that he is about to commit suicide, she is behaving like the type of heroine ridiculed by Jane Austen in Eorthanger Abbey* But Miss Burney glosses over the fact that Macartney carries two pistols (perhaps the first might not fire) and that he was carrying them in preparation for an attempted robbery, not a suicide, and thus the kumor and irony are lost* In Macartney's letter we see Miss Burney dealing with material which seemed to titillate eighteenth- century readers— Macartney nearly murders his father, and, appears to be on the verge of incest by nearly marrying his "sister*" As I suggest later in this paper, one of the reasons for this emphasis upon incest may be that a new voice, that of the woman author, was being heard in fiction at this time, and that the conditions in relevance by the further disclosures of Volume III, the sequence

cannot be saved by ingenious overplotting which entails the improbable.

Miss Barney uses the event to create surprise, pity, and fear and

then tries to provoke the reader's curiosity by delaying the exposition

of the details of Macartney's background. This information is with­ held too long; when Macartney's story is inserted into the narrative,

it comes as an anticlimax and an iterruption which makes a second

distinct break in the plot line.

In Volume III, which is probably the weakest part of the

novel, events move through the third major action to a resolution.2^

Fortune now favors Evelina by having her visit to Bristol occur at

a time when Lord Orville is visiting there; furthermore, Mrs. Selwyn,

Evelina's cicerone, is well acquainted with Mrs. Beaumont, a relative of Lord Orville's, and soon she and Evelina are invited to stay with

Mrs. Beaumont, in the company of Lord Orville and his sister, Lady

Loulsa Larpent. When Evelina meets Lord Orville, his behavior com­ pletely erases the unfavorable opinion of him which had been created by his letter. Their relationship progresses rapidly now, "for a

thousand occasional meetings could not have brought . . . that degree society were such that women placed great value upon family relations; the most exciting subject, then, would be violation of the normal family pattern.

23e. M. Forster points out that all plotted novels are likely to be feeble at the end because the novelist has at his disposal only death or marriage, and the events tend to dictate character­ ization* E. M. Forster, Aspects of the Novel (London, 1953)# PP* 91-92. of social freedom, which four days spent under the same roof have,

Insensibly, been productive of a" Their romance is retarded somewhat by a series of obstacles, the first of which is the unexpected appear­ ance of Macartney, who, now that he has borrowed some money, insists, somewhat improbably, upon following Evelina to Berry Hill, then to

Bristol, in order to return personally the money she had given him.

Macartney's appearance on the scene and her clumsy attempts to conceal the details of his life cause the inevitable contretemps for Evelina.

In her handling of this Macartney sub-plot Miss Burney now becomes too ingenious, for after a series of disclosures, the reader learns that Macartney's "sister" is a Miss Belmont and that he and Evelina are brother and sister. When the deception concerning Miss Belmont is exposed, Macartney is then able to marry her; this development offers a neat, but overly ingenious, solution to one of the more mysterious parts of the novel. The improbability of these events endangers the unity of a novel which purports to be based upon the reality of the everyday world. Miss Burney appears to be drawing from the very areas that, in her Preface, she rejects; "The fantastic regions of Bomance, where Fiction is coloured by all the gay tints of luxurious imagination, where Beason is an outcast and where the sublimity of the marvellous rejects all aid from sober Probability."

Two other substantial obstacles are introduced by Miss Burney in order to prevent the Ivelina-Orville relationship from reaching a clipax too rapidly. One is an admonitory letter from Mr. Villars warning her that, since Lord Orville cannot marry her because of the 96

difference in their classes, she should avoid him because she may

fall in love with him* On hearing that "His sight is baneful to

your repose, his society is death to your future tranquility,"

Evelina begins to play the pathetic heroine in a fashion which the

reader cannot take seriously because by now Lord Orville's honorable

intentions are quite obvious. The reader is grateful that there are

few letters like the following one from Evelina to Mr. Villars:

Oh, Lord Orvillel could I have believed that a friend­ ship so grateful to my heart, so soothing to my distresses, — a friendship, which, in every respect, did me so much honor, would only serve to embitter all my future moment si— What a strange, what an unhappy circumstance, that my gratitude, though so justly excited, should be so fatal to my peace • • • • Oh, Lord Orville, how little do you know the evils I owe to youl how little suppose that, when most dignified by your attention, I was most to be pitied,— and when most exalted by your notice, you were most my enemy ■ • • • But I will leave this place,— leave Lord Orville,— leave him perhaps foreverj— no matter; your counsel, your goodness, may teach me how to recover the peace and serenity of which my unguarded folly has be­ guiled me . . . . The more I consider of parting with Lord Orville, the less fortitude do I feel to bear the separation;—-the friendship he has shewn me,— his politeness,— his sweetness of manners,— his concern in my affairs,— his solicitude to oblige me,— all, all tc be given up . . . . Tomorrow morning I will set off for Berry Hill ....

But Evelina's plan to return to Berry Hill is canceled by

events dealing with the other strand of the plot, so she remains at

Mrs. Beaumont's, but conducts herself with reserve toward Lord Orville.

The distance she tries to keep between them is now occupied by Sir

Clement, who also appears at Bristol. Observing that Evelina and

Lord Orville are nearing an Tinderstanding. Sir Clement questions

^Evelina, pp. 40j5-4. Evelina about her affections in a brief melodramatic scene; somewhat less composed than usual ("gnashing his teeth," "trembling with passion") he rushes wildly from the house when he becomes convinced; of his defeat* Meanwhile Lord Orville has succeeded in overcoming her reserve and the incessant attentiveness of Sir Clement to declare his intentions and in turn succeeds in drawing from Evelina, "the most sacred secret of • • • /mj^ heartI"

Lord Orville has still to be tormented by the further mysti­ fication connected with establishing Evelina as Sir John's daughter, but fortune, with some help from the determined Mrs* Selwyn, succeeds in clarifying this situation with almost Incredible swiftness* First a Miss Belmont, then Sir John appear at Bristol; a visit to Sir John by Mrs* Selwyn suggests that Sir John has been imposed upon, and with the help of Mrs* Clinton, who is at hand, it is discovered that a former nurse of Evelina's has succeeded in passing off her daughter as Sir John's legitimate child* It is well that the denouement of this plot strand is treated hastily, because it is brought about by several improbable disclosures, and it occurs anticlimactically after the more important plot goal dealing with Evelina and Lord

Orville has been attained* Unfortunately the episodes in which

Evelina's legitimacy is established are the two most sentimental scenes in the novel, two "recognition" scenes in which a letter from her mother and Evelina's facial resemblance to her mother replace the customary strawberry birthmark* The first interview between

Evelina and her father begins: 98

What a moment for your Evelina I— an involuntary scream escaped me, and covering my face with my hands, I sunk on the floor.25

And the second interview concludes with Sir John's blessing Evelina as she is about to depart:

"May Heaven bless thee, my child!--" cried he, "for I dare not." He then rose, and embracing me most affection­ ately, added, "I see, I see that thou art all kindness, softness, and tenderness; I need not have feared thee, thou art all the fondest father could wish • • • • Perhaps the time may come when I may know the comfort of such a daughter,— at present, I am only fit to be alone: dreadful are my reflections. They ought merely to torment myself.— Adieu, my child;— be not angry,— I cannot stay with thee,— Oh, Evelina! thy countenance is a dagger to my heart!— just so, thy mother looked, — just so— " Tears and sighs seemed to choak him!— and waving his hand, he would have left me,— but, clinging to him, "Oh, Sir," cried I, "will you so soon abandon met— am I again an orphan?— Oh my dear, my long-lost father, leave me not, I beseech you! take pity on your child, and rob her not of the parent she so fondly hoped would cherish her!" "You know not what you ask,11 cried he . . . • God Bless thee, my Evelina!— endeavor to love,— at least not to hate me,— and to make me an interest in thy filial bosom by thinking of me as thy father." I could not speak; I kissed his hands on my knees; and then, with yet more emotion, he again blessed me, and hurried out of the room,— leaving me almost drowned in tears.**®

Thalia sometimes weeps— fortunately her tears cover only five pages in a five-hundred page novel. The emotional extravagance of these scenes disrupts the unity of the plot; they force, or attempt to force, the reader to have too somber a concern for Evelina's welfare.

The establishment of this attitude within the reader would be

^Evelina, p. 466.

^Evelina, p. 484. unfortunate, not simply because it represents an objectionable violation of the unity of tone, but because it would tend to cause the reader to lose the full comic significance of many of Evelina's predicaments and to become so Indignant with Evelina's humorous

"antagoniBts,, that their comic value would also be lost*

Despite the melodramatic and sentimental scenes, this volume has a fairly strong comic core* The comedy is obtained entirely from the minor characters; with the exception of the last episode, the comic mode is achieved by a satiric presentation of aristocratic society, based in some instances upon the behavior of the aristocrats, but more often highlighted by the wit and sarcasm of Mrs* Selwyn— the interplay between her and the aristocrats makes possible a dramatic presentation of manners* Their manners axe far from faultless: Mrs* Belmont is given a devastating "character" as a Court-Calendar bigot by Mrs* Selwyn* Sir Clement, who may be some­ what prejudiced, finds Mrs* Beaumont haughty and absurdly proud;

Lady Louisa a pretty piece of languor, a compound of affectations, impertinence and airs; Mrs* Selwyn, conceited, garrulous, with an unbounded license to her tongue— the reader will probably feel that his censure is unfair only to Mrs* Selwyn* The male aristocrats are shown to be idle, cruel and profligate libertines; intemperate drinkers, they are devoted to discussing the niceties of preparing food and the crudities of gourmandizing it; under the sharp, witty prodding of Mrs* Selwyn they reveal their basic ignorance of art and political events* Above all, the aristocrats are snobbish, 100

and It is their snobbery that gives Miss Burney's satire of aristocratic manners an emotional significance for Evelina; in

Volume II, Evelina was guilty of snobbery, in this volume she is

the victim of it*

Volume III is further marred by a weak conclusion* Both

the visit to Bath and the final dinner at Mrs* Beaumont's are anti-

climactic, for they occur after the two main plot goals, for all

practical purposes, have been achieved; one has the feeling that

Miss Burney is merely tagging these episodes on to eke out the

requisite number of pages* Although Miss Burney introduces Captain

Mirvan to enliven these procedings, the conflict between him and

Lovel is too repetitious to be really effective* Mrs* Selwyn and

Captain Mirvan manage to ridicule Lovel and Lady Louisa for their

affectation and foppishness in attire, but the aristocrats are not

really fair game, since, as soon as the Captain believes he is being

ridiculed, he terrifies Lovel with the threat of physical violence*

The farcical scene in which the Captain presents a monkey dressed like Lovel parallels the episode of the fake robbery; here it is made unpleasantly brutal because the violence is recorded directly by Evelina and not mitigated by being filtered through the comic rage of the ill-tempered Madame Duval as in the former instance* These last episodes, then, violate the plot unity rather considerably

since the social criticism is not connected to the main actions and the farcical quality tends to undercut the value of some of the more perceptive satirical observations* 101

The foregoing discussion of the plot may have been mis­ leading, for considerable attention has been given to the violations of unity, to the occasional undramatic presentations of social comment­

ary, to the Incredible and irrelevant actions and to the farcical and

sentimental violations of tone* .Although these faults do exist and

are fairly serious, they constitute violations of the plot hypo­

thesis suggested earlier; they are not numerous or important enough

to demand a reconsideration of the hypothesis* In the main, Miss

Burney does connect in a significant way the fortunes of the heroine with this presentation of persons, places, things and

events that define eighteenth-century society, and she does maintain a comic tone with considerable consistency*

Let us now turn to the second criteria advanced by Miss Tan

Ghent— the novel’s characterizing qualities. In trying to indicate what she means by the character of a novel, Miss Tan Ghent uses

such metaphorical terms as ’’concreteness,** "distinctness,*1 "richness.”

Tor this novel, some of these traits— richness in particular— have been described in part by the discussion of the plot, but they are also dependent upon the focus and emphasis given by the selection of the point of view, the methods of characterizing, the method of presentation (scenic or pictorial), and the diction. An analysis of these features of the novel will help to define its characterizing qualities more fully*

In choosing the epistolary form, Miss Burney was undoubtedly

influenced by both aesthetic and personal considerations: as has been noted earlier, this fictional technique was the one most commonly used at the time* and, moreover, it was one that came

easily for her with her own Diary-keeping, letter-writing habits*

This form has some distinct advantages for her purpose; namely,

for presenting a large amount of diversified material without

sacrificing unity. In some instances the epistolary technique can be used with the letter-writing shared evenly between two or more correspondents, and it can be used to develop one or more plot lines,

or to give different impressions of one major plot line* In Evelina

the vast majority of the letters are Evelina's, and all of the

correspondence has a specific significance for her. The letter- writing pose is fairly well maintained, for Miss Burney prevents

the novel from becoming a straightforward first-person narrative or

a journal by keeping the letters fairly short, by having Evelina discuss previous letters, refer to her correspondent and affix signatures, addresses and dates. The correspondence makes no pretense of being complete: some of Mr. Villars' letters, for example, are not included, but their contents can be inferred by Evelina's answers. By having the majority of the novel told by Evelina, Miss

Burney gains some of the obvious advantages of the autobiographical novel: added credibility, intimacy, and immediacy; furthermore, unlike the first-person narrative, the epistolary technique makes it easy and natural to present certain types of material such as the opinions of others about the protagonist. It also makes possible a discursive quality inherent in letter writing, which would defeat a direct first-person or third-person narrative. The use of these points of view poses the problem of accounting for the passage of 103 time between, scenes, and the scenes themselves require some sort of introduction* The letter-form avoids these difficulties, makes plausible the foreshortening of action, and almost insists that the actions be brief lest the letters be unconscionably long; furthermore, the events need not be rendered with completeness lest the reader question the phenomenal eye and ear of the writer and, through the loss of credibility, tend to identify the letter-writer with the author* It is obvious, then that the epistolary technique can be effectively used to cover the diversity of detail presented in a novel of manners: it makes plausible frbquent shifts of scenes and an abbreviated handling of actions*

However, an epistolary technique in which so much of the action is reported through one character presents certain problems*

Specifically, it raises the question as to how closely the author is to be identified with the central character* The earlier dis­ cussion of plot has indicated that Miss Burney has created a character in Evelina from whom she maintains a satisfactory aesthetic distance*

Evelina is presented so that the reader knows more about her than she herself knows; the reader knows much of what Miss Burney knows about her* This additional knowledge comes not only from other letters and the judgments of other characters but from the dramatic irony Miss Burney introduces in many of Evelina's statements, in particular those in which she refers to Lord Orville* Evelina is, then, a created character not to be confused with Miss Burney*

However, in her eye for irregularity in behavior and appearance, in her judgments of characters and her implicit regard for the value 104 of manners Evelina can be Identified with Miss Burney* In a sense* the preceding discussion of the plot shows Miss Burney justifying

Evelina*s values*

The epistolary form constitutes a convention which one must accept just as one accepts the omniscient author's complete familiarity with his characters; as part of the convention one accepts Pamela's mania for scribbling, her amazing eye for detail, her unusual awareness of her emotions and even more unusual ability to record them, and her amazing subtlety of mind in discerning moral niceties; in short, one accepts Pamela's display of Bichard— son's abilities* However, if the illusion is to be maintained, the demands of the convention should not be excessive; furthermore, one must recognize the ways in which the conventions influence the plot, characterization, etc* As a part of the epistolary convention, the reader of Evelina must accept only Evelina's fondness for a dramatic presentation of material in her letters and her unusually effective and extensive use of dialogue; otherwise, the type of material presented and the mode of presentation represent an appropriate rendition of the comments of a young, intelligent but inexperienced, sight-seer* Miss Burney's use of Evelina as the chief narrator has implications in regard to Evelina’s character, which I will consider later, but first I should like to point out how Miss Burney's concern with manners manifests itself In the presentation of detail in an average letter of Evelina's*

The letters of Evelina comprise the majority of the correspond­ ence; sixty of her letters appear but only fifteen of Mr. Villars'. 105

(Mr* Villars' letters seem to represent Miss Burney's recognition of the public demand for didacticism, for practically all the

explicitly didactic comments in the novel are to be found in them*

Although this moralizing is in keeping with his profession as a minister, his letters are repellently dull*) The letters of Evelina usually begin with a general statement about, the subject of the

letter, and frequently these introductory sentences indicate Evelina's feelings toward the information she is about to describe* ("There

is something to me half melancholy in writing an account of our last

adventure in London"; "0, my dear Sir! I have been shocked to death,—

and at the same time, delighted beyond expression, in the hope that

I have happily been the instrument of saving a human creature from

destruction!") These first paragraphs may include a description

of the setting, but the brevity of this description will surprise

the reader who expects the lavish presentation of setting that is found in a modern novel of manners or a historical novel* A few

illustrations will point out that Miss Burney had no desire to

describe settings which would help the reader to visualise the scene

of the action; they are offered simply to make the action comprehen­

sible* (It may be that she failed to sense a need to render back­ grounds, or that she felt elaborate descriptions were out of place

in the epistolary novel, or, more likely, with an awareness of her eighteenth-century audience, she felt that a mere mention of the places of action would be adequate for the reader*) Frequently the descriptions of background seem designed for purposes of charac­

terization: Evelina's comments about places inevitably depart from io6

visual details to impressionistic reactions which tend to charac­

terize her as well as give the atmosphere of the setting* Here are

her observations about Banelagh:

Welli my dear Sir* we went to Banelagh. It is a charming place* and the brilliancy of the lights* on my first entrance* made me almost think I was in some en­ chanted castle, or fairy place, for all looked like magic to me*2?

Her comments about the Pantheon are equally brief, and here is her

description of Vauxhall:

The garden is very pretty but too formal. I should have been better pleased had it consisted less of straight walks where "grove nods at grove, each alley has its brother." The trees, the numerous lights, and the company in the circle round the orchestra make a most brilliant and gay appearance; and, had I been with a party less disagreeable to me, I should have thought it a place formed for animation and pleasure.28

Obviously these accounts do not stress details in order to create

a visual image for the reader. In the last passage, the reference

to the walks between the trees helps to explain Evelina's experience when she goes for a walk in the garden with the Branghton sisters, but the description seems designed primarily to show Evelina's

taste and her knowledge of Pope* One further quotation will

illustrate the impressionistic qualities of the brief descriptions

and indicate where the emphasis in the novel is. Hear the end of

the book Evelina goes to Bath, a city which she has never seen before*

The following passage contains her only comment on the appearance

^Evelina, p. ^5*

28Evellna. p. 2h2-^3 107 of the city:

The charming city of Bath answered all my expectations* The Orescent, the prospect from it, and the elegant symmetry of the circus, delighted me* The Parades, I own, rather disappointed me; one of them is scarce preferable to some of the best pared streets in London, and the other, though it affords a beautiful prospect, a charming view of Prior Part and of the Avon, yet wanted something in itself of more striking elegance than a mere broad pavement, to satisfy the ideas I had formed of it* At the pump room, I was amazed at the public exhibi­ tion of the ladies in the bath; it is true, their heads are covered with bonnets, but the very idea of being seen, in such a situation, by whoever pleases to look, is indelicate. °

The second paragraph of this quotation (and the dialogue on the custom of bathing which follows it) is characteristic of the novel

in its emphasis upon social behavior.

The same principle of selection (to show manners) guides

Miss Burney in her choice of detail in narrating the action. Here are two descriptions taken at random, one emphasizing an action

in which Evelina is involved; another in which she is a spectator.

The first relhfces one of the most vigorous physical actions in which

Evelina participates; it describes her experience while walking with

the Branghton sisters in the garden at Vauxhall.

By the time we came near the end, a large party of gentlemen, apparently very riotous, and who were hallowing, leaning on one another, and laughing immoderately, seemed to rush suddenly from behind some trees, and meeting us face to face, put their arms at their sides and formed a kind of circle, which first stopped our proceeding, and then our retreating, for we were presently entirely enclosed. The Miss Branghtons screamed aloud, and I was frightened exceedingly: our screams were answered with bursts of laughter, and, for some minutes, we were

^9Evelina, p. ^ 92* 108

kept prisoners, till, at last one of them, rudely, seizing hold of me, said I was a pretty little creature* Terrified to death, I struggled with such vehemence to disengage myself from him, that Z succeeded, in spite of his efforts to detain me; and immediately, and with a swiftness which fear only could have given me, I flew rather than ran up the walk, hoping to secure my safety by returning to the lights and the company we had so foolishly left; but, before I could possibly accomplish my purpose, I was met by another party of men, one of whom placed himself so directly in my way, calling out, "Whether so fast my love?" — that I could only proceed by running into his arms* In a moment, both my hands, by different persons, were caught hold of; and one of them, in a most familiar manner, desired, when I ran next, to accompany me in a race; while the rest of the party stood still and laughed* I was almost distracted with terror, and so breath­ less with running that I could not speak, till another advancing, said I was as handsome as an angel, and desired to be of the party, I then just articulated, "For Heaven’s sake, gentlemen, let me pass I" 3^

The one thing that must be noted immediately is the telescoping of this action into four brief paragraphs* This brevity avoids violating the comic unity, for it glosses over a serious situation for the heroine; furthermore, such treatment is appro­ priate for the epistolary convention* However, this presentation of the action contrasts with the more extensive use of dialogue, for the passage is followed by three pages of dialogue between

Evelina and Sir Clement, who is one of the gentlemen mentioned in the scene above* With the exception of the few melodramatic scenes this technique is typical of the entire novel: frequently a style similar to that of narrative summary is used even when the action

^Qsvellna, pp* 2^5-6• 109 is being treated in a more detailed way*^- The first sentence of this passage offers but a minimum of detail to help the reader visualize the scene; the phrase "large party of gentlemen," makes no attempt to describe the number or appearance of the gentlemen; in the phrase "apparently very riotous," the word

"apparently" is somewhat puxxling since Evelina supposedly can see the gentlemen. Then it becomes evident that "riotous" describes not their appearance or behavior but rather their character or condition; it is evidently a euphemism for intoxicated.

The next phrases suggest vaguely something of the appearance and sound of the scene, but the emphasis in "laughing immoderately" is upon fudging the behavior as well as describing it. Then we find a rather confusing phrase, "seemed to rush suddenly," for the description of the behavior of the gentlemen ("leaning on one another") implies that they are visible before they rush on the

■^■For a brief but illustrative description of the difference between narrative summary and scene see Phyllis Bentley, Some Observations on the Art of Narrative (London, 19^6). In scenes, as Miss Bentley observes, specific actions are narrated: "the characters see, speak, strike, smile, think, kneel, read, pugh, etc." (p. 1 5 )* The tactic of narrative summary makes for the conveying of a greater volume of material at the expensf of vividness. It might be added that the intense emphasis upon creating a visual impression, the optical preoccupation of the modern novel­ ist, differs considerably from the approach of writers of earlier generations. "Our modem artists choose as elements of pictorial composition the minute or the trivial rather than the splendid, the portentous; they prefer to depict physiological manifestations or the workings of inert matter rather than the physical activity enobled, sublimated • • • • /in the past[ it seems to have been ac­ cepted as a truism that the man who sees is a thinking, feeling being, in whom an optical impression is blended with psychic aware­ ness." Anna Granville Hatcher, "Voir as a Modem Hovelistlc Device," J&. XXIII (19^). 372-3- 110 scene, and makes the apparent uncertainty ("seemed") of their materializing "from behind some trees" difficult to comprehend#

This confusion would be eliminated by revising the order of presenr- tation, by having them appear before their behavior was described.

The next passage shows a slight fondness for eighteenth-century cir­ cumlocution and abstraction ("formed a kind of circle, which first stopped our proceeding, and then our retreating") so that it is no longer the gentlemen who surround them but a circle, which interferes not with them, but with their proceeding and retreating* In the next sentence we have a selection and sequence of detail designed to condemn the giddy Branghtons; the description of their behavior

("The Miss Branghtons screamed aloud") precedes and contrasts with the description of Evelina's feelings ("I was frightened exceedingly" ), which Implies her more dignified behavior and superior manners*

The last sentence of the paragraph loses graphic qualities through vagueness ("one of them" and "rudely seizing hold of me"; once again,, the adverb appraises the act rather than simply describes it) and loses dramatic qualities through Indirect statement*

In the first sentence of the next paragraph, one finds once again the elegance of exposition rather than visually vivid narra­ tive prose ("with such vehemence to disengage myself from him";

"I succeeded, in spite of his efforts to detain me"; "with a swift­ ness which fear only would have given me"; "hoping to secure my safety41; "could possibly accomplish my purpose")* In the next paragraph through an awkward use of the passive voice, a shift in voice, and an ambiguity in the antecedent of a pronoun, Miss Burney Ill momentarily confuses the reader by suggesting that one of Evelina's hands is conversing in a familiar manner (once again, the adjective

"familiar" is used not so much to describe as to evaluate)* This episode, which in its grammatical clumsiness is not representative, could be examined further, but enough has been done with it to show

that Miss Burney makes little determined effort to describe action so that it has a strong sensory appeal* Instead of vivid nouns and verbs, she uses general terms and periphrastic constructions, and constantly through her choice of diction she judges behavior instead of, or as well as, describing it*

In the following passage, in which Evelina is a spectator merely describing the action, Miss Burney's style is simple and effective* Again in this passage the details describing action and appearance are selected for their power to characterize as well as

to aid in visualizing* The passage describes Lord Merton's and

Lady Louisa's first meeting with Evelina at Mrs* Beaumont's:

They entered the parlour with the ease of people who were at home* The gentleman, I soon saw, was Lord Merton; he came shuffling into the room with his boots on, and his whip in his hand; and having made something like a bow to Mrs. Beaumont, he turned towards me* His surprise was very evident, but he took no manner of notice of me* He waited, I believe, to discover, first, what chance had brought me to that house, where he did not look very much rejoiced at meeting me* He seated himself very quietly at the window, without speaking to anybody* Mean time, the lady, who seemed very young, hobbling rather than walking into the room, made a passing courtsle to Mr3* Beaumont saying, "How are you, Ma'am?" and then without noticing anybody else, with an air of languor she flung herself upon a sofa, protesting in a most affected voice, and speaking so softly she could hardly be heard, that she was fatigued to death*3^

^Evelina* pp* 3^8-9• 112

This passage Is not lacking In the qualities that make for

visualization* but one feels that the details of appearance and

behavior were chosen to amplify the statement made at the beginning

of the first paragraph ("They entered with the ease of people who

were at home")* They enter with a certain insolent assurance based

upon their conviction of aristocratic superiority, which Immediately

sets up a tension between them and Evelina. Miss Burney attempts

to select those qualities of appearance and behavior that will best

present this type of snobbery, make Evelina feel the class difference,

and realize "how requisite are birth and fortune to the attainment

of respect and civility.11 In the first paragraph, Miss Burney

ignores the details of Lord Merton's attire to mention only his

whip and boots in an attempt to discredit him by implying that in

so entering a parlor, he is indifferent or disrespectful to the

people already there; his graceless arrogance and snobbery are further suggested by the words "shuffling" and "something like a bow.11 In the last part of the paragraph Miss Burney departs from visual presentation almost completely with "His surprise was very

evident," and then she has Evelina conjecture about the motivation for his behavior; his smugness is suggested by his sitting at the window without deigning to speak to anyone and by his waiting for

the others to inform him of the situation. Lady Louisa's behavior

is also described to bring out her lack of grace and consideration;

she hobbles rather than walks into the room, makes a "passing courtsie"

to Mrs. Beaumont without noticing anybody else and flings herself upon the sofa. Details of her physical appearance are omitted to

bring out the qualities of false delicacy and affectation: "she

moves with an air of languor," "speaks so softly that she could

hardly be heard" and protests "that she was fatigued to death."

In these passages, as in most of the novel, Miss Burney in her

choice of both vocabulary and descriptive detail obviously elects

to comment upon the manners of her characters; she chooses to judge

appearance and behavior rather than to describe in visual, auditory

and kinesthetic terms. In some instances, as in the last passage,

a description may be vividly rendered, but the visual effectiveness

is subordinated or controlled by the emphasis upon manners.

To return now to the pattern of Evelina's letters. They

usually begin with a brief statement of the material in the letter,

perhaps with Evelina's attitude toward the material, and then

continue with a description of an action, which, even if it is

presented as scene rather than as narrative summary, frequently fails

to be particularly graphic. Inevitably this narrative leads into

dialogue, and it is here that Miss Burney is at her best. The

dramatic value of dialogue is well known; let me here point out how Miss Burney finds it particularly u s e f u l . 33 Sometimes she uses

it simply to give a dramatic touch to a scene in which Evelina

33ror a brief discussion of the value of dialogue see Pelham Edgar, The Art of the Hovel (Mew York, 1933)» PP* 10-15* (Of course, the problem of rendering material scenically, which entails dialogue, is the core of Percy Lubbock's The Sraft of Plctlon.) luA- converses briefly with s o m e o n e . ^ in some scenes Evelina participates fully in the dialogue. In such instances as the scene at the Stanley's ball one sees Miss Burney handling dialogue effectively, with repartee somewhat like that in the sex-duels of the comedy of manners*

Miss Burney also presents large scenes in which Evelina participates very little, if at all, and the dialogue becomes not only a means of characterization but also a way of developing a more general conflict of ideas as several characters contribute differing points of view on various subjects— this is the technique that was to be perfected by later novelists like Peacock and Aldous Hurley*

3 V example of this is the scene between Lord Orville and Evelina at Mrs. Beaumont's (pp. 368- 9 ) in which Miss Burney uses dialogue rather effectively in several ways. In the course of a four-page letter describing the actions of one day, she uses dialogue to record a conversation between Evelina and Mrs- Selwyn. in which the latter relates a conversation she overheard between Lady Louisa and Lovel. Then after a few paragraphs containing a generalized description of the day's activities, she uses indirect discourse to condense the introductory remarks of a conversation between Evelina and Lord Orville, and then produces three remarks in direct discourse before returning to indirect discourse to round off the conversation. In this conversation the reader may find the speech of Lord Orville rather unnatural: "I am charmed," said he, "at the novelty of meeting with one so unhackneyed in the world, as not to be yet influenced by custom to forget the use of reason: for certain it is, that the prevalence of fashion makes the greater absurdities pass uncensured, and the mind naturally accommodates itself, even to the most ridiculous improprieties, if they occur frequently." Miss Burney is obviously using dialogue for characterization and propaganda and departing from natural speech. Here the tendency is not unbearably exaggerated. In speaking of the naturalness of dialogue Carl Grabo states: PEidelity of speech to the actual pitch of colloquial use has, indeed, little to do with its effectiveness or even its plausibility, for these depend rather upon the suitabil­ ity of dialogue both to the general tone of the story and the emotional tension of a particular scene. The speech of story char­ acters can never wholly correspond with that of actuality if for no other reason than that selection, condensation and pertinency are requisite for its fictional use." The Technique of the Hovel (New York, 1928), p. 162. 115

In the first volume such animated tableaux occur at the

Pantheon and the theater with Captain Mirvan usually occupying the center of discussion and defending his ideas against such various disputants as Madame Duval and Lovel* In these disputes Lord Orville and Sir Clement are frequently required to walk a tightrope by making politic statements that will enable them to continue on amicable terms with everyone and yet not sacrifice their honor or

Evelina's regard* In the third volume the scenes occur frequently at Mrs. Beaumont's; in most instances the tension in these discussions arises from the differences in opinion between the snobbish, ignorant, hedonistic nobles and the satiric Mrs. Selwyn* Since these dis­ cussions are numerous and extended and deal so frequently with the "times, fashions and public places," they contribute greatly to the novel's description of manners*

As has been mentioned, Miss Burney also uses dialogue to characterize* She creates speech with a rhetorical elegance for the nobles, a naval jargon for the Captain and a crude, ungrammatical language mixed with several French interjections ("ma fol") for

Madame Duval, but her best method of characterization consists of establishing a scene with conversation between conflicting indi­ viduals whose personalities are defined by their statements* As an illustration consider the scene in the second volume in which Mr*

Smith visits Evelina and Madame Duval to take them to the Hampstead

Assembly.35 jn the first paragraph of this scene Miss Burney

35]j}velina, pp* 276—79* 116 describes Mr. Smith's attempted elegance In attire and Evelina's reaction to it, the entrance of the Branghtons, the jealous behavior of Miss Branghton and Mr. Smith's gratification at her jealousy*

The ensuing dialogue between Tom Branghton and Madame Duval reveals the outspoken curiosity and insensitivity of the former and the vanity and temper of the latter. An allusion by Tom Branghton to his sister's fondness for quarreling causes her to enter the fray*

Mr. Smith tries to play the pacifier by drawing attention to his own considerate behavior toward the ladies, but the hypocrisy of his attitude is revealed immediately by his consternation when he learns that he will have to dance with Madame Duval. Evelina's statement that she does not plan to dance meets with a self-assured contradiction from Mr* Smith and a sneering rejoinder from Miss

Branghton which causes Tom to accuse his sister of jealousy. Once again Mr. Smith gently chides Tom for bad manners but in a way that displays his recognition of and gratification at the truth of the charge. Tom proceeds to compliment Evelina in a way that is humiliating for Miss Branghton and embarrassing for Evelina; he labels Mr. Smith an inveterate bachelor, a charge which causes the latter to admit that if he ever did marry it would be to Evelina—

Evelina is not ecstatic at the tribute.

In scenes such as this Miss Burney* s characters betray them­ selves. It may be true that they are not rounded, complex characters, but many of them do have enough variety to be interesting; more important, the variety of situations chosen for the display of their characters and the dramatic methods of character-drawing succeed In giving the characters an impressive vividness and. vitality.

Consider Mr. Smith, the Holborn beau, whose characterization pleased

Dr. Johnson so much.-^ His aspirations to play the bean are seen in his first brief appearance in the scene in his apartment (p. 224-), which reveals his affected gallantry, his pride in his possessions and his belief that he is a great catch for the ladies; in his next appearance (p. 23*0 this impression is strengthened, but his vanity is now revealed by his pride in his knowledge of the diversions of London society; in the visit to JTaoxhall, he flaunts his savolr faire until Sir Clement is introduced (the shallowness of his knowledge is shown when he identifies Neptune as a British general in one of the paintings in the room at the fiotunda). In the scene prior to their visit to the Hampstead Assembly (the scene just described), Mr. Smith's behavior and speech disclose his pride in his attire, his patronizing, conceited attitude toward women, the hypocrisy behind the false elegance of his manners, and his vanitjr.

In her characterization of Mr. Smith, as in her characterization of many of these minor characters, Miss Burney has created a comic figure that will help to "mark the manners of the time." Her characters can be reduced to a few predominant qualities; but by presenting these types in a great variety of situations in which they are allowed to reveal the variations of their ruling passions, in which they unconsciously reveal the disparity between what they profess or aspire to be and what they are, or in which their con-

■^The Early Diary of Prances Burney. II, 253* 118 versation and behavior indicate a self-centered ignorance of or an extravagant indifference to normal or conventional standards of behavior, Miss Burney makes them interesting, comic and vivid*

Perhaps at this point it would be well to summarize what has been said thus far about the unity and characterizing qualities

(richness, concreteness, distinctness) of the novel* In talking about its unity we have noted how the events are controlled by their influence upon the fortunes of Evelina; we have also noted that these events presented in a comic mode are designed to describe contemporary manners* The epistolary technique contributes to the plan of presenting manners by making possible a natural inclusinn of a diversity of settings, persons, things and events— a diversity which contributes to the richness of the novel* Furthermore, the selection of detail and the diction of the novel contribute to its unity as a novel of manners by constantly presenting irregularities of appearance and behavior in a vocabulary strongly weighted with terms of social judgment* But it is primarily through the use of dialogue that Miss Burney obtains concreteness and distinctness* for by dialogue she succeeds in stressing social material and in endowing her characters, particularly the minor characters, with a comic vitality which makes them vivid symbols of contemporary manners*

Before leaving the questions of technique and character, I should like to discuss the character of Evelina and Miss Burneyds use of her as the principal narrator* Evelina is primarily a 119

static character; true, in the course of the novel she acquires

some additional knowledge about people and society, hut in general

the girl who runs from Lord Orville's carriage to ride with Maria

Mirvan at the end of the novel is essentially the same individual who laughed at Lovel's foppishness at the Stanley's hall* The

static quality cannot he objected to in view of the brief period

covered in the novel and the type of experiences that Evelina under­

goes. Evelina is surely not a complex character, but she is presented with a wide enough range of virtues and weaknesses to he both credible and likable. She reveals many of the characteristics

of the ideal heroine defined by eighteenth-century Courtesy Books, but fortunately her perfection is spotted by failings; her ignorance,

giddiness and snobbery prevent her from being a paragon.37 In part,

37According to Joyce Hemlow, the English Courtesy-Book Girl defined by eighteenth-century didactic literature is to be known by her "quiet, unobtrusive manner, her silence, compliance, prudence, decorum, modest accomplishments and modest worth added to the sober virtues of piety, chastity, charity and fortitude." "Panny Burney and the Courtesy Book," BCLA, LXV (1950), 756. Not only does Evelina correspond to the ideal woman of contemporary tracts, but so does Miss Burney if one is to judge her by the evidence of her Diaries. (This may merely mean that Miss Burney was able to project in the Diaries an idealized version of herself, but the self-protrait of the Diaries seems to conform with moat other contemporary descrip­ tions.) Here is a brief analysis of her character based primarily upon the Diaries; "She was strongly attached to her home and country as well as to memories, and had a great capacity for love and an urge to admire and to venerate. With a tendency to adoration and self-immolation, she possessed benevolence, kindliness, warmth, faithfulness, and gentleness, and had a capacity for sympathy, mercy and self-denial. She was unselfish and showed compliance and confidence. On the other hand she had a desire to please, was prudent, watchful and timid, ready to take offense, and showed a tendency to mockery and to strictness. She had a love of pleasure; she showed restraint, resistance, steadfastness and firmness; she also pos­ sessed a love of living and self-surrender." A. A. Overman, An Investigation into the Character of Panny Burney (Paris, 1933)» PP» 20^-5. 120 one cannot help feeling that Evelina's character gains by virtue

of her being the Central Intelligence in the novel* Her virtues become palatable for the reader when he notes her lively intelligence, her wit, her eye for absurdities, her tolerable snobbery, and her

disgust with social irregularities and immorality. In her later novels, in Camilla in particular, Miss Burney also writes social

satire, but this criticism belongs to her observations as author;

the heroine becomes a less credible figure, a Courtesy-Book figure manipulated for didactic purposes* Evelina gains immeasurably in

credibility as a result of her protagnnlst-reporter role in the novel* The two roles are not in overt conflict. Miss Burney usually offers not only Evelina's judgment of people and situations, but she also has Evelina include in her letters the details of

action and dialogue upon which the judgment is based; these details, of course, are set down by Evelina, but with a curiously impersonal

quality* As a result of this treatment, the reader sees the judge

as well as the judgment* In a novel which is essentially comic,

the choice of the heroine as the narrator does present something of a problem in tone, because Miss Burney is forced to indicate some reaction on Evelina's part to her antagonists and yet not violate the tone* In using the omniscient point of view in a novel

such as Tom Jones. Fielding can help preserve comic detachment when describing the actions of the antagonists by failing to describe

Tom's indignant or painful reactions; such omissions would be un­ natural in the use of this modified first-person point of view* 121

In the main, Miss Burney manipulates the letter-writing pose to minimize the intensity of the reader's reaction, hut this particular method of presentation does give the novel a comic tone which frequently verges on the sentimental. Miss Burney gains, however, not only the advantages of the first-person point of view already mentioned, but also a slight advantage in regard to the problem of

"manners" which I will mention in the succeeding paragraphs.

Let us now turn to Miss Van Ghent's third criterion, meaning­ fulness. The problem of transferring truth from the novel into the realm of everyday living is an extremely complex one; however, I feel that in this novel the types of "truth" and insight that have the most value do not lie in specific statements made by characters such as Mr. Villars; this type of truth statement lacks both the particularity and the forcefulness to be emotionally and intellectually meaningful. Much more valuable are those truths based upon inferences that the reader makes about the events that are presented ("presented" here means all the verbal devices such as narration, dialogue, etc., by which the novel is told^. In Evelina the emphasis is obviously upon the problems of the individual in society. A contrast may emphasize this point.

The chief idiosyncrasy of Moll Flanders' world is the tendency to externalize life, to convert all experience into measurable material quantities and cash, the chief idiosyncrasy of Clarissa's is exactly the reverse; it is the tendency to convert the external forms of life — social customs, physical action, material quantities — into subjective quality and spiritual value.3®

3® Loro thy Van Ghent, The English Hovel, p. 4\5« 122

In Evelina the chief idiosyncrasy is to view all aspects of life in terms of social patterns and forms; physical actions and material quantities become insignia of class, and subjective qualities and spiritual values are overlooked unless revealed In social behavior«29

Miss Burney's concern with social patterns and forms stresses the functional worth of manners. Her emphasis upon the value of knowing how to behave in certain situations differs from the interest in manners of writers like Hemingway and Caroline Gordon or the members of the Fugitive group. For them, knowing how to behave indicates an awareness of values Inherent in the action, and manners are designed to bring out the value of the act; they take on a ritual value to identify the individual with a tradition. Miss Burney is of the

Courtesy-Book tradition; for her, manners are less important as mores than as guides to facilitate social intercourse. In this novel Miss Burney shows the usefulness of manners by delineating the

"ritual" introduction of a seventeefj-year-old girl ignorant of the forms into a highly mannered society.

To a girl of seventeen the problems of the world are mainly matters of form, manners and appearances, Evelina comes out of her childhood to discover that

^Unquestionably the element of money plays an important part in the structure of this society; behind Mr. Fillars' warning to Evelina is his belief that Lord Orville would not marry a poor girl, that he, like Sir Clement, would reject "a girl of obscure birth, whose only dowry is her beauty and who is evidently in a state of dependency," It is implied that Lord Merton's marriage is based upon mercenary consideration. Although the structure of this society may be strongly influenced by money, in the novj&l this fact is subordinated to the manifestations of class in terms of social behavior. In general, the upper class affects an apparent casual­ ness about money matters which contrasts with the cost-conscious behavior of the middle class. 123

the world is a place where one has to know the estab­ lished modes of behavior, or it becomes a mighty unpleasant spot. That’s a universal discovery— accentuated by the situation of Evelina. She’s neither upper class nor lower class-a girl of no position. She knows too much of good breeding to be happy with Madame Duval and the Branghtons, and too little to be happy with the "quality of London” and Bristol Hotwells. She goes through the universal suffering of the person who hasn't yet learned— and often he never does learn— where he "belongs” and how to "belong."^

Bad Evelina known how to behave at the Ball, she could have saved herself (and Lovel) considerable embarrassment; had she not walked unescorted in the gardens at Vauxhall she would not have embarrassed herself and misled several "gentlemen.” Knowledge of the forms is useful to avoid misunderstanding and to minimize the friction in social relationships. The novel does not attempt to serve as a

“book of the laws and customs a-la-mode. presented to all young people upon their first introduction into public company”; but rather it demonstrates a need for the knowledge supplied by such a book.

Miss Burney also tries to present the class and moral implica­ tions of the problems of manners. In any class society the mode of behavior of the standard bearers becomes the model for the entire society; in eighteenth-century society the standard bearers are the aristocrats. Many of the aristocrats assume that they are automatically superior and evince a snobbish pride in status without

^®Edwine Montague and Louis L. Martz, "Fanny Burney's Evelina." The Age of Johnson, p* 17?* assuming any of the responsibilities of function; they reveal no sense of noblesse oblige* They become conspicuous for a particular set of aristocratic vices: gambling, drinking, and wenching. Other classes, restricted by morality or lack of money, seize upon those manifestations of aristocratic behavior which are least significant or easiest to imitate, such as elegance of attire or sprightliness of conversation, and take a snobbish pride in assuming that in their acquisition of these external insignia they have achieved the status of the so-called superior class. Evelina's introduction to society consists of her learning the value of manners, but she also comes to know that there is a deceptive, unpredictable connection between morals, class, and manners. After encountering Lord Merton, Evelina observes that it is extraordinary "that a nobleman accustomed, in all probability, to the first rank of company in the Kingdom from his earliest infancy can possibly be deficient in good manners, however faulty in morals and principlesI” Evelina learns the rather elementary lesson that classes as well as individuals are not always what they seem. Her statement concerning Lord Merton's manners may be ironic in its implications about the disparity between manners and morals, but the irony is appropriate, for it does indicate the equivocal nature of manners, which must inevitably be regarded both as forms to facilitate social relationships and also as indices to character. When manners are regarded as mere forms, they may well be widely separated from morals.

In Lord Orville Miss Burney has created a character whose manners are consistent with his morals; his manners are based upop. 125 experience, sensitivity, and a considerate attitude toward others*

He shows an attitude that "rises superior to the prejudices of rank"; yet even Lord Orville wiolates the accepted norms in

Inviting Macartney to Mrs. Beaumont's without informing her of the fact. The full complexity of manners and the fruitfulness of their study can be suggested if one considers in this novel the implications concerning character and morals posed by Evelina's uninformed vio­ lations of manners, Lovel's affected manners, Mr. Smith's aping of manners, Lord Merton's disregard of manners, and Sir Clement's exploitation of manners*

In its way, the novel is a feminist document; like Pygmalion, the book raises the problem of the parish in a class-society in which snobbery is common and manners are either ignored or mechanical­ ly copied; the position of the woman with merits superior to those of her class becomes particularly acute, for she becomes the target of interclass snobbery. The novel constitutes a plea for manners, for it emphasizes that snobbery and inconsiderate social behavior are not only ridiculous (the aim of most comedies of manners) but also unpleasant for the people victimized by ill-mannered behavior; in her use of the modified first-person point of view Miss Burney offers a double plea for manners— bad manners are both ridiculous and distressing*

Women are particularly vulnerable in a society in which men lack manners or are simply bad mannered* One of the effects of

Captain Mirvan's abuse of Madame Duval in the robbery hoax is that it makes the reader aware of the essential insecurity of woman's 126 position.; one cannot help conjecturing that Sir Clement might well have chosen to "abuse" Evelina at the same time. In a society where

there are no meaningful codes of behavior to protect the female,

she is dependent upon the smaller circles such as the family for protection, and this fact may account for the sentimentality in

this novel. The two most sentimental scenes in the book describe

the reunion between Evelina and her father. Overwhelmed with a filial obligation, Evelina completely ignores the crimes of Sir John.

She bids him not to kneel to her, "not to reverse the law of nature

. . . /but to r is e / and bless your kneeling daughter!" The emo­

tional fervor of these scenes greatly exceeds that of any of the

scenes between Evelina and Lord Orville. It may be that the emo­

tional content of these scenes is connected with Miss Burney's own

attitude toward her father— I am not trying to justify the emotional

excesses in these scenes but merely to explain their existence in

terms of social and autobiographical experience.^- The Diary

^-In discussing the legitimacy of using biographical material to help understand a work of Art, K. Burke states; "If we try to discover what the poem is doing for the poet, we may discover a set of generalizations as to what poems do for everybody, with this in mind, we have cues for analyzing the sort of eventfulness that the poem contains. And in analyzing this eventfulness we shall make basic discoveries about the structure of the work itself." K. Burke, The Philosophy of Literary Form (Louisiana, 19^1), p. 73* this novel one cannot help noting the adoration of father which is inherent both in Evelina's attitude toward Sir John and Miss Burney's attitude toward her father as evinced by the dedication. If it were merely Miss Burney who displayed this parental adoration one might dismiss it as a Freudian fixation, but we have here a literary convention which expresses an attitude that seems to "do for everybody." It is a convention— one thinks of the sentimental tableaux in Pamela in which Richardson stages tearful reunions between Pamela and her father before a group of spectators who soon contribute to the flood— but whence the convention? Actually filial obligation seems to have been 127 deacx*ibes the closeness of Miss Burney’s relationship with her father as does the rhapsodic quality of the dedicatory verse to this novel ("Oh author of my beingl— ‘far more dear/ To me than light • ■ . • ")» which suggests a deification of the parent. But we can only conjecture about the cause for the sentimentality in this novel and regi-et that Miss Burney was not as restrained in presenting sentimental scenes in her later books as she was in this one.

stressed by both male and female writers. The causes are probably numerous, but if this novel is a true record of the times, one can understand why social conditions would force the females into a strong sense of family dependency. For the males the stress on filial obligation may merely be the desire of the conservative to preserve a patriarchal, aristocratic pattern in the family and to keep women in a subordinate position. By the end of the century, a more independent hero and heroine are to be found in literature — perhaps because republicanism was in the air and because manners had improved. CHAPTER III

Cecilia

At the beginning of the Craft of Fiction Percy Lubbock speaks of the difficulty of analyzing a novel because of the impossibility of grasping its "shadowy and fantasmal form • • • /which/ melts and shifts in the memory." This difficulty is apparent even with a simple novel like Evelina: with Cecilia it is more apparent, for in her later novels Miss Burney becomes more ambitious: her novels become longer, their canvas broader, and their "forms" more elusive.

Therefore, it is even more valuable to start a discussion of Cecilia with an interpretive hypothesis which attempts to explain the details of the novel and their emotional effects. Like Evelina. Geeilia is a novel centered on those actions of the heroine which are designed to advance or retard her progress toward marriage. It is not an adventure story or a "love" story with emphasis solely upon the action, for the actions are closely related to the character of the heroine: they serve to define her disposition and finally to "fix" her char­ acter.* In Evelina the heroine is exposed to a series of embarrassments

*In The Structure of Literature Paul Goodman discusses various types of plots and notes that novelistic plots deal with characters not already committed; during the course of the novel "their responses add up, disposition is fixed into character." He observes that most novelistic plots are sequences of occasions for sentiment ("the 129

("comic deflations") which give her a greater knowledge of manners but produce no essential change in her character* Cecilia is also exposed to a series of experiences which add to her knowledge of the world (types of people and ways they behave); furthermore, she is subjected to a series of painful experiences growing out of her imprudent acts, so that at the end of the novel she has a firmer moral attitude toward certain social relationships* This change in the protagonist does not represent a great transformation from a careless to a prudent character: it is simply her recognition of the fact that certain moral precepts having to do with social obligations are not to be violated; certain abstract principles are made meaningful through concrete experiences* As a beginning then, we can frame this hypothesis for the plot of Cecilia: the novel describes the way in which a wealthy, attractive heroine encounters a series of suitors, all but one of whom are unsatis­ factory for a variety of reasons. The plot describes the series of response of a person on a temporary occasion"). He suggests the following relationship among tragedy, comedy and the novel: "Aris­ totle says (Poetics ii): 'the agents must be either above our own level of goodness or beneath it or just such as we are.' For the third he gives no hint of an analysis • • • but these can reason­ ably be thought of as objects of our novels of sentiment. For 'as we are,1 the multitude of our daily actions and the events that impinge on us become meaningful in our slowly maturing commitments; our actions are dramatic, but they are potentially so and become so (whether we perform serious actions or ossify into comic humors); they are novelistic. The feeling of such portrayals of men as they are is. correspondingly, sympathy* In ancient times sympathetic plots • • • existed • • • in the New Comedy and the tragedy-with- a-happy ending and later in pastoral works; but for the full ez>» pansion of such slowly maturing sequences we must look in our long prose novels*" The Structure of Literature (Chicago, 195*0. PP» 127-8* 130 obstacles to her marriage that are interposed, by fortune, by other people and by the protagonists themselves, and it also Indicates the changes in the character of the heroine which result from these actions*

This hypothesis needs to be supplemented with further state­ ments about the background material and the emotional effects of the plot* In addition to the material dealing with the "romantic" plot, there is in the novel considerable background or framework detail*

Since Miss Burney is still anxious to "mark the manners of the time," the principle of selection for most of this detail is sociological*

Therefore, the novel contains a vast amount of sociological and economic detail, presented dramatically through a selection of char­ acters and actions in various classes of society* Cecilia's explor­ ations of society almost constitute a secondary plot, for the details of manners are not tied in as tightly in this novel as they are in Evelina* This is not to say that the novel lacks unity; most novels are not as simple in construction as Evelina and include an 2 abundance of detail not directly related to the action of the plot*

Furthermore the implications of the background material reinforce the theme of the romantic plot, and near the end of the novel the two "plots" unite, when the characters who earlier were essentially supernumeraries used to define certain types in society begin to

^For example see Goodman1s discussion of some of the ways in which a background plot of history can be combined with a novelistic plot. The Structure of Literature, p. 155* 131 figure in the romantic plot, largely as devices to separate the lovers*

The range of emotional effects presented in and created by

Cecilia is more extensive than that created hy Evelina. Although many of the details of the minor plot, particularly those dealing with the type-characters, are comic, this novel does not have

Evelina*s predominantly comic tone* The minor plot is also "serious"; for example, many of the actions describing Cecilia's encounters with

the Hills or her benevolent foraging under the direction of Albany

are designed to produce admiration for her benevolence, pity for the neglected poor and disgust with the nobles who ignore and sometimes

cause this poverty* The romantic plot also shows considerable variation in emotional tone. The characterization of protagonists

and antagonists and the pattern of action are such that one is led

to approve of the heroine and to desire and expect her success* One

feels the curiosity, desire and anxiety normally associated with

romantic plots; yet in the closing sections of the novel the extended

staffering and danger of the heroine seem designed to arouse the fear

and pity associated with tragedy. Certain sentimental scenes are

designed to arouse pathos. Some effects border on the grotesque, and the ending contains some of the bitter-sweet ingredients of

tragl-comedy* In brief, the novel has considerable range in both

subject matter and tone, a range which is characteristic of the genre, but which defies concise formulation such as might describe 132 a drama or a simpler novel like Evelina*-^

Now I should like to verify these generalizations ahout the novel through a functional analysis of the plot* In the main this analysis will attempt to define the sort of unity the novel has, to indicate the nature of the conflicts, the dispositions of the characters, and the emotions produced by the events. This dis­ cussion of the plot unity will also make more meaningful the sub­ sequent discussions of the novel's particular qualities and the insight it offers. To avoid an elaborate plot summary, I will divide the romantic plot into three stages, make generalizations about the chief qualities of each stage, and discuss the important

^Recognizing the great emotional range in the novel, Goodman thus attempts to describe the "proper" pleasure of novels: "In novels the dramatic scenes and reversals are fearful and grievous or variously laughable. But for the specifically novelistic feeling (if it is a feeling), namely, the motion of a sentimental sequence, we must look in the area of 'sympathy.• Sympathy seems to be a recognition of the other and of the sameness of the other and one's self. The passions and mirth of drama are not sympathetic; there is not enough other; we identify with the directly presented and quickly moving plot, and feelings take us by storm. In novels we identify with the omniscient narra­ tor; the sentimental persons are others. And in the sequences of sentimental occasions we find that the persons are understandable; they are, after all, like us or we like them. Following their careers and comparing them with our own: it is a verbal question whether or not to call this a 'feeling*; it is a reassurance, being understood, understanding, with the accompanying anxiety, tears, relief. So a critic has said that the chief use of novels is to learn that we are not alone or eccentric; others are as confused, hurt, and guilty. Contrariwise, we could say that a chief use of novels is to learn that other persons exist. Besides, of course, since the persons are like us, their careers give us another world, an enlargement of our own. In adven­ ture stories or romances this comes simply to having vicarious satis­ factions. But specifically novelistic is the feeling of sinking into the world of a long novel, and we say 'we know those persons better than we know our friendB.'" The Structure of Literature. PP. 153-4- 133 characteristics of the minor plot during each stage*

The basically "serious11 tone of Cecilia is sounded by the prayer with which the novel begins;

Peace to the spirits of my honored parents, respected be their remains and immortalized their virtue! May time, while it moulders the frail relics to dust, commit to tradition the record of their goodness! And, ohi may their orphan descendant be influenced through life by the remembrance of their purity, and in death be solaced, that by her it was unsullied*^

This unvoiced prayer of Cecilia Beverley not only strikes the

rather solemn note for the first portion of the book, it char­

acterizes the heroine* The filial regard suggests Evelina, but the

elegance of the language indicates a greater self-awareness than

that of Miss Burney's first heroine* The remainder of the first

chapter is a retrospective summary in which Miss Burney gives us

the history of Cecilia, describes her character and her present

situation, and hints at the nature of the major conflict* The reader

is told that Cecilia is nearly twenty-one, virtuous, intelligent,

generous, sensitive, attractive, and that her natural charms are

augmented by an inheritance of 10,000 pounds, and an annual income

of 3,000 pounds provided that she maintain her name in marrying*

The reader also learns that Miss Beverley is going to London to live

with Mr* Barrel, one of the three guardians under whose care she

will remain until she comes of age* Any doubt in the reader's mind

as to the nature of the major conflict in the book is dispelled by

the lengthy set-piece describing Mr* Monckton, his mercenary purpose

prances Burney, Cecilia, or Memoirs of an Heiress (London, 191*0, I, 1. 13**

in marrying his wife, and his hopes of acquiring Cecilia at the

death of his present wife* In the second chapter at Mr* Moncktonfe breakfast gathering, the suggestions of the first chapter are pre­

sented more concretely (scene instead of narrative exposition)*

Cecilia's beauty is demonstrated by the favorable comments and

behavior of the men, her Intelligence and character are indicated

by the quality of her own comments* During the scene Miss Burney

introduces some of the minor figures who help to supply the bacls>-

ground material and to define the quality of contemporary society*

The characters of Miss Bennet, Mr. Aresby, Mr. Morrice and Mr*

Belfield are described in brief set-pieces and verified by their

actions and speeches* Of course, the characters are performing

various functions simultaneously* Belfield, for example, is a type

character, the romantic; he helps suggest the range of personalities

encountered in society (he later becomes a hindrance to Cecilia's

marriage to Delvile)* Furthermore, he is a foil to Monckton, and

in this first scene he and Monckton engage in one of their several

debates over the relationship between the individual and society*

"Deviations from common rules," said Mr* Monckton, without taking any notice of this interruption, "when they proceed from genius, are not merely pardonable, but admirable; and you, Belfield, have a peculiar right to plead their merits; but so little genius as there is in the world, you must surely grant that pleas of this sort are very rarely to be urged*" "And why rarely?" cried Belfield, "but because your general rules, your appropriated customs, your settled forms, are but so many absurd arrangements to impede not merely the progress of genius, but the use of understand­ ing? If man dared act for himself, if neither worldly views, contracted prejudices, eternal precepts, nor compulsive examples, swayed his better reason and impelled 135

his conduct* how noble indeed would he be I how infinite in faculties! in apprehension how like a QodI" "All this*" answered Mr. Monckton* "is but the doctrine of a lively imagination* that looks upon impossi­ bilities simply as difficulties* and upon difficulties as mere invitations to victory* But experience teaches another lesson; experience shows that the opposition of an individual to a community is always dangerous in the operation* and seldom successful in the event; never* indeed* without concurrence* strange as desirable* of fortunate circumstances with great abilities*"^

This "rhetorical" exploration of the value of the "settled forms" indicates that Miss Burney is interested in more than the exhibition of certain ridiculous social types* The theme that the novel drama** tizes is the subject of these frequent discussions*

These first two scenes are designed to arouse the reader's curiosity, to make him feel sympathy for the heroine and apprehensive for her welfare as she visits London* The reader suspects that

Monckton will fail in his plans for capturing Cecilia, for Miss

Burney, speaking as omniscient author* has already generalized about the unsatisfactory results of his scheming to achieve his present marriage: "So short-sighted is selfish cunning, that in aiming no further than the gratification of the present moment, it obscures the evils of the future, while it impedes the perception of integrity and honor*" But even if Monckton himself may fail, his warning (with its dramatic irony) against the people Cecilia will encounter in

London ("Sharpers, fortune-hunters, sycophants, wretches of all sorts and denominations, who watch the approach of the rich and unwary, feed upon their experience and prey upon their property,") arouses

^Cecilia. I, 10-11. 136

the reader's curiosity, if not his apprehension* In the second

chapter Miss Burney attempts to arouse the reader's curiosity and

anxiety hy introducing the mysterious "old gentleman1' (Albany) to

sound a note of foreboding with his "AlasI poor thing" and his

"expression of mingled grief and pity*"

Having established the major problem (obtaining a husband)

and having suggested that Cecilia will be a prey to every unscru­

pulous fortune-hunter, Miss Burney now turns to the presentation of

the background material and characters, who take on additional

interest for the reader as he attempts to label them as "sharpers"

or satisfactory suitors* The next few chapters are devoted to the

minor plot, the exploration of society, as Cecilia examines the

"gay, fashionable, splendid" world of London* She finds that in the

upper middle-class world of the Barrels the women sleep late, spend

the afternoon shopping and going to auctions, and the evenings at

parties* Their conversation reveals the extent of their interests

— dress, company and parties* Mrs. Barrel sees her husband general­

ly at dinner; otherwise not at all* He shares her extravagance and

fondness for luxurious living, with a particular weakness for gambling*

This description of the Harrels' married life is paralleled by a picture no more favorable of the other people in this society* But whereas the picture of the social-marital life of the Harrels is

presented seriously with Cecilia expressing her criticism of its folly and vice, the picture of society is presented in a comic mode befitting the less serious sort of folly Miss Burney is ridiculing* 137

At the first party Cecilia attends, the "types" appear, and they inevitably appear at all the subsequent social events; there is the

Volublist, Miss Larolles; the Supercilious, Miss Leeson; the Jargon- ist, Mr* Aresby; and the Insensiblist, Mr* Meadows* Their perfor­ mances, which are unvarying, are frequently accompanied by the satiric commentary of Mr* Ofosport, Miss Burney's chorus character, who labels and explains the type characters for Cecilia*

In the main, this material is presented with Cecilia's reactions to it; therefore, it serves to characterize her* It be­ comes more apparent that Cecilia is not another Evelina; she has much more self-possession than the latter and is much more at ease in society* She has a "native dignity of mind * . • which had early taught her to distinguish modesty from bashfulness," and her experience at the head of the table of her uncle, the Bean, had initiated "her in the practiced, rules of good breeding, had taught her to subdue the timid fears of total inexperience, and to repress the bashful feelings of shamefaced awkwardness*" In company she is composed and usually the mistress of herself and the situation*

Cecilia is seldom an object of comic amusement as was Evelina; how­ ever, she can amuse by being ironic as is shown when she is urged by Mrs* Larolles to attend an auction at which the latter guarantees a monstrous crowd in which they "shall be half-sq.ueezed to death*"

"That," said Cecilia, “is an inducement which you must not expect will have much weight with a poor rustic just out of the country: it must require all the polish of a long residence in a metropolis to make it attractive*"®

6Cecilia. I, 28* 138

Cecilia is like Evelina, however, in having some of the qualities of the paragon, in having "a strong sense of duty, a fervent desire to act righta" She is repelled by the wasteful indolence of the life at the Barrels1 and determines to turn to music and reading and to play the philanthropist*

Hiss Burney uses Cecilia's charitable impulses as a means of extending this study of society: she is able to include life among the lower classes and to reveal the obverse side of the fashionable Harrel world; namely, that this fashionable society is frequently maintained by a failure to pay the debts such a life

incurs* Cecilia aids Mrs* Hill, the wife of a carpenter whom Mr*

Harrel had employed, but not paid* When Cecilia attempts and fails

to collect Mrs* Hill's twenty pounds from Harrel, she realizes fully his cruelty, indifference and extravagance: he is either unwilling or unable to pay for a building already completed, yet at the same

time he is planning another* The luxury of the Harrels' life is contrasted with the poverty and misery of the Hills with the five children forced to work with their mother, the father dying, and the mother's grief over her Billy's death by consumption* The

Hills' poverty arouses Cecilia's pity as strongly as Mr. Harrel's continued refusals to pay his bill provoke her indignation* (Bor many modern readers this sequence dealing with the Hills will be

too pathetic, too Dickensian. Mrs. Hill cries frequently, parti­ cularly in reiterating the tals of her son's death, and Cecilia also joins briefly in the weeping* Although this is not a novel of sensibility, Cecilia has a sensibility similar to that of the heroines 139 of those novels— her eyes frequently "glistened with sensibility*")

It is important to observe, however, that this episode like many

episodes in the minor plot is designed not merely to show a picture

of another class but to show a relationship between the classes*

Of course, the reader is awaiting the appearance of suitors

for Cecilia, for further developments in the romantic plot* Although

the emphasis in Book I is placed primarily upon Cecilia's gradual

comprehension of the type of life led by the Harrels, the problem

of finding a husband is not ignored* (The somewhat misleading

quality of the term "romantic" is evident here: the goal of this

"romantic" plot is a husband, not a lover* Much more attention is

given to describing the social forces involved in a change of marital

status than to presenting or analyzing the emotions of an individual

in love*) While at the Harrels' Cecilia meets two suitors, but

neither is presented to the reader as an acceptable candidate* Mr*

Arnott is too diffident, a willing attendant whose adoration enhances

the heroine's stature* It is not likely that Cecilia can find satis­

factory one who, although "mild, serious and benignant," has such

precise manners and such a gravity of countenance and demeanor that

his society is rather "permitted as a duty than sought as a pleasure*"

Sir Hobert Ployer (Miss Burney's study encompasses the lower ranges

of the upper class) is more objectionable; insolent, supercilious

and bold, he constantly stares at Cecilia like a man "on the point

of making a bargain, who views with fault-seeking eyes the property 14-0

he means to cheapen*”? He converses about "horse races, losses at

play, disputes at gambling tables * . . /and offers/ comparative

strictures upon celebrated beauties, hints of impending bankruptcies

and witticisms upon recent divorces*" Sir Robert, however, is not

easily dismissed, for he is sponsored by the Harrels and is a

constant visitor at their home* Thus Cecilia has further reason

to dislike staying at the Barrels1, but she finds that her other

guardians, Mr* Briggs and Mr* Delvile, are no better* Mr* Briggs

offends her with his miserliness, and Mr* Delvile with his arrogance,

condescension, and his pose of the busy man, constantly occupied

with important matters*

Miss Burney now uses two social events, a masquerade and a

visit to the opera, to advance the romantic plot. [T wish to con­

sider both of them briefly^/ The masquerade episode is valuable

not only for the picture of society and the comedy it offers (the

farcical behavior of Morrice, the childish sycophant; the comical

figure of Mr* Briggs attired as a chimney sweep, and his outspoken

pride in the inexpensiveness of his costume; the ironic disparity

between the behavior of various characters and their costumes, e*g*t

Miss larolles as Minerva), but for the way in which it suggests the

larger pattern of the book* Here are a few of the details which

?Cecllla. I, 31* Although there are two basic "problems" in Oecllla* "money" and "manners," the diction, syntax and style all tend to stress manners* It is seldom that a metaphor like this describing Sir Robert appears to emphasize the “money" aspect of . the novel= The stress in Miss Burney's diction thus contrasts with that of Miss Austen as it is described by Mark Schorer in "Fiction and the Analogical Matrix," Critiques and Essays on Modern Fiction, pp* 83-98* have significance for the hook as a whole. At the masquerade

Cecilia receives the attentions of Sir Robert, disguised as a haughty Turk; she discusses the behavior of some of the figures with Mr. Gosport, disguised as a school teacher; throughout most of the evening she is the victim of Mr. Monckton, who, disguised as the devil, tries to keep the other guests from conversing with Cecilia.

In attempting to free Cecilia from Mr. Monckton's control, Belfield, disguised as Don Qjxixote, engages in a mock-duel with him which parallels his earlier debate with Monckton in which he disagreed with the latter*s advice to Cecilia. When Cecilia is finally released from Monckton*s imprisonment, he leaves the masquerade, angry at the failure of his attempt to monopolize Cecilia's company for the evening.

At his departure Miss Burney comments: "Such is deservedly the frequent fate of cunning, which, while it plots surprises and detections of others, commonly overshoots its mark and ends in its own disgrace.'* Although the type-casting and action of this episode are somewhat too crude for it to be a completely satisfactory symbolic presentation of the larger outlihes for the book, one can see in it the pattern which the book follows.

At the masquerade Cecilia is assisted in escaping the un­ wanted attentions of Mr. Monckton by a white domino who is familiar with her history and impresses her favorably. Her conjectures about his identity are resolved by the action at the opera, an event which is important since so many of the subsequent developments in the romantic plot are dependent upon misunderstandings arising from it.

The opera itself provides Miss Burney with an opportunity for the ikz familiar satire of the rude, noisy, ostentatious members of the audience who seem to attend operas to be seen and heard rather than to listen. (Cecilia's experience in the pit is not much more satis­ factory than Evelina's in the gallery with the Branghtons.) After the opera Sir Robert Insults Belfield, whom Cecilia has permitted to escort her to the lobby. They nearly duel in the theater, but

Cecilia's concern enlists the assistance of a stranger, the white domino of the masquerade, who succeeds first in halting the duel and then in preventing Sir Robert from starting an immediate re­ newal outside the theater. The next morning he appears again and identifies himself as Mortimer Delvile, her guardian's son. He informs Cecilia of his unsuccessful attempts to avert a set duel between Belfield and Sir Robert, which resulted in Belfield's being wounded.

This event has important consequences. Cecilia's expression of concern for the safety of both Sir Robert and Belfield is accepted as a sign of her partiality for Sir Robert: it is so interpreted not only by the Harrels and Sir Robert but also by Mortimer Delvile.

Feeling that she is committed to Sir Robert, Delvile is unconcerned about any serious consequences of his assisting her: even should he become fond of her, she is already committed. It is, of course, apparent to the reader that in Delvile Miss Burney has presented

Cecilia with a potentially suitable husband ("tall and finely formed, his features though not handsome were full of expression; and a noble openness of manners and address spoke the elegance of his education, and the liberality of his mind"). The introduction of a 1^3 satisfactory suitor is made simultaneously with a recognition of possible obstacles to their marriage* Cecilia has already been offended by Mr* Delvile, and Mrs* Harrel warns her that Mrs* Delvile is equally proud and haughty* Although Cecilia finds herself attracted to Mrs* Delvile and decides to leave the Harrels1 and move to the Delviles1, Mr. Monckton dissuades her by insisting that she would be overwhelmed by their united insolence*

With but one exception (the Belfield family) Miss Burney has now introduced the major characters and interests in the novel*

Let me use this presentation of the Belfield family to show how

Miss Burney uses Cecilia's character, the minor plot, and coincidence to further the romantic plot. Cecilia's charitableness has already been illustrated in her relationship with the Hills* Under the aegis of Mr* Albany she decides to expand the scope of her philan­ thropy* In one of her visits to the slums, she is taken by Mr*

Albany to the rooms of the Belfields where she meets Belfield*s sister, Henrietta, and finds Belfield, seriously wounded* The coincidence of this meeting is compounded on the next visit to the

Belfields when Cecilia encounters Delvile and thereby leads him to believe that it Is Belfield she is in love with* In attempting to aid Belfield secretly and independently, Cecilia frequently meets

Delvile, and she "began now almost to fancy that there was some fatality attending her acquaintance with him, since she was always sure of meeting him when she had any reason to wish avoiding him*"

But as painful as these accidental meetings are to her, for they offer him further opportunity to misconstrue her motivation, she is 144 attracted to Delvile* They are impressed by the similarity of their feelings in regard to Belfield1s virtues* Finally, although her

"passions were under the control of her reason," Cecilia admits to herself that her "happiness is no longer in her own power*" She believes that Delvile returns her affection but that he has checked it because he believes she is in love with Sir Bobert or Belfield; once this mistake is explained she has few doubts that he will declare himself* "Her purpose, therefore, was quietly to await an explanation, which she wished rather retarded than forwarded that her leisure and opportunity might be more for investigating his character and saving herself from repentance*" But, after Delvile has entered a drawing room unexpectedly to find Sir Bobert alone with Cecilia, kissing her hand, she decides to clarify the situation by going to the Delviles* and declaring her unalterable opposition to both Sir Bobert and Belfield* Consequently, Mortimer knows that she has no affection for either Sir Bobert or Belfield*

As one surveys this first stage in the romantic plot, it is apparent that it is characterized by misunderstandings* Fortune has contrived to bring together Cecilia and Delvile and to bring about frequent meetings at parties and public places* Their char­ acters are such that Cecilia has fallen in love with Delvile, and she is annoyed that fortune seems determined to misrepresent her to him, in particular since he seems to return her affection* (Actual­ ly, of course, the misunderstanding is essential; otherwise it is assumed that Delvile would have guarded his affection more carefully*)

However, chance is not the only hindrance to their alliance* The 11*5 pride of Mr. Delvile offends Cecilia; Mr. Monckton attempts to discredit the Delviles, the Harrels are constantly using pressure to force her to marry Sir Bobert, and other suitors such as Mr.

Arnott have been Introduced. The obstacles to the plot goal are almost entirely external ones; they are hindrances which are annoying to Cecilia and arouse only curiosity, mild anxiety or amusement in the reader.

The second stage in the romantic plot is one that is ear­ marked by doubts on the part of Cecilia. Although her firm rejection of her other suitors has given Delvile an opportunity to express his affection, he fails to do so. He ceases to visit the Barrels. When

Cecilia encounters him in public, he is formal and distant. Cecilia fears that he may be in love with someone else, perhaps Henrietta

Belfield, whom he has praided warmly. Her fears are strengthened by the garrulous Lady Honoria Pemberton, a relative of the Delviles, who first mentions that the Delvibes are arranging a marriage between her sister and Mortimer and later adds that Delvile has an unknown mistress who lives in the same section of London as the Belfields.

Although Cecilia is now living with the Delviles, Delvile continues to remain aloof until Cecilia's exposure to a storm calls forth such concern for her well-being that his affection is obvious. After recovering from a brief illness, he reveals his love for her but adds that he cannot offer marriage because of the name-taking clause in her uncle's will. Deceived by Cecilia's coolness during their proposal-rejection interview, Delvile leaves Delvile Castle for

Bristol and Cecilia soon returns to Suffolk. After she has been 146 there for a brief time, Mortimer's dog mysteriously appears— Lady

Honoria plays the matchmaker and tries to bring the lovers together*

This contrivance is assisted when Mortimer arrives at Suffolk un­ expectedly, but opportunely, to overhear Cecilia declare to the dog her affection for his master*

In the second stage of the romantic plot, there are still external obstacles to a marriage between Cecilia and Mortimer: for example, during this period, Cecilia rejects the declarations of

three suitors* Yet there is a change in the nature of the obstacles

in accordance with the progressive development of the plot: internal obstacles are now beginning to be more important* Cecilia's pride prevents her from revealing her fondness for Delvile to him when he declares his love for her* The name-taking clause, while it may be regarded partly as an external hindrance, really depends for its effect upon the character of Delvile and his willingness to accept his parents' dedication to the concept of family*

The emotional quality of this second stage, which is dominated by Cecilia's doubts, is rather somber with an occasional sentimental scene such as the one in which Delvile bids Cecilia farewell* ("0, great be your felicity, in whatever way you receive it1— pure as your virtues, and warm as your benevolence*— Oh, too lovely Miss

Beverleyl— why, why must I quit youl") The tone of this section is lightened by the appearances of Lady Honoria Pemberton, the rattle, whose raillery constantly forces Cecilia to betray in a laughable fashion her concealed affection for Delvile. Por example, when Lady

Honoria announces that Delvile has a mistress and a child whom he is 14?

keeping in the country (the mistress turns out to be a gypsy that

he has befriended), Cecilia is thus described;

Cecilia, to whom Henrietta Belfield was constantly present, changed colour repeatedly, and turned so extreme­ ly sick, she could with difficulty keep her seat* She forced herself, however, to continue her work, though she knew so little what she was about that she put her needle in and out of the same place without ceasing * . • Lady Honoria then, turning to Cecilia, exclaimed, "Bless me. Miss Beverley, what are you about I Why that flower is the most ridiculous thing I ever sawi You have spoiled your whole work*" Cecilia, in the utmost confusion, though pretending to laugh, then began to unpick it • • • /Lady Honoria continued^ "But only look at Miss Beverley! Would not one think I said that she had a child herself? She looks as pale as death* My dear, I am sure you can’t be well?" • • • • "Well, my dear," said Lady Honoria, "I am sure there is no occasion to send for Dr* Lyster to you, for you recover yourself in a moment: you have the finest colour now I ever saw: has she not Mrs. Delvile? Did you ever see any one blush so becomingly?"8

This is one of the few occasions that Miss Burney uses Cecilia for

comic effects*

The more emotional scenes in the first half of the novel are not in these two stages of the romantic plot; they are to be found

in the episodes of the minor plot* The minor plot offers comic relief, perhaps most effectively with the appearance of Mr. Briggs and Mrs* Belfield: the former's outspoken stinginess and wig- removing disregard for the proprieties are matched by the broad hints of the latter urging Cecilia to be more forward in displaying her affection for young Belfield* The minor plot also contributes its note of anxiety for the reader when Mr* Harrel succeeds in borrowing

8 0ecilia. II, 34-35* 1^8 money from Cecilia despite Mr. Monckton's warnings that Barrel is a ruined man. After lending him 550 pounds, Cecilia refuses to make any further loans until Barrel, in an extremely melodramatic scene, threatens suicide unless she promises to lend him enough money to quiet his creditors. Her kindness costs her a total of

7500 pounds. But within a few weeks, after excessive gambling losses his position is again desperate, and failing in one last attempt to retrieve his losses, he commits suicide.

The scene of Harrel•s suicide at Vauxhall should be con­ sidered because it presents such an extraordinary combination of elements. Before the suicide, the frenzied behavior of Harrel, his

Insistence that Mrs. Harrel accompany him to Vauxhall for the legacy, and the warning which he hopes “she will remember forever1* establish an ominous tone for the event. At Vauxhall this note is sustained by his vacillation from moroseness to levity, his determined con­ sumption of champagne and his discursive conversation* Against this background of impending tragedy, Miss Burney presents contrasting element of comedy that will extend the scene. Like vultures sensing a death, Mr. Harrel*s creditors begin to appear. Mr. Marrlot is the first, a somber enough vulture, but then the reader is Introduced to Mr. Hobson, and the tone of the scene begins to go awry, for

Hobson is a goose playing vulture. Not only a goose but a greasy, funny goose (a "fat, sleek, vulgar-looking man, dressed in a bright purple coat, with a deep red waistcoat, and a wig bulging far from his head with small round curls • . .his plump face and person announced plenty and good living, and an air of defiance spoke the fullness of his purse*)• This goose is accompanied by a sparrow,

Mr. Simkins, "a little mean-looking man, very thin and almost bent double with perpetual cringing.* When they are invited to join the party, this combination of creditors presents a repelling, Irritating, yet comic, picture of lower middle-class vulgarity* Their performances are nearly matched by those of the prankish Morrice; the Insensiblist,

Mr* Meadows; and the Jargonist, Mr. Aresby, who join the party*

Another guest, Sir Hobert, who most officiously appoints himself as

Cecilia's escort, joins the group, behaves imperiously toward the tradesmen, and begins to argue with Hobson* This group gives a comical demonstration of the inability of people and social classes to under­ stand one another* finally Mr. Harrel, who has been drinking steadily, leaps from their box and rushes off into the gardens where he shoots himself.

The grotesque quality of this scene does not cease, however, with Harrel1 s death, for Miss Burney, anxious to keep the reader's attention on Cecilia rather than on Harrel, now elaborates on Cecilia's kindness, courage, and resourcefulness in consoling Mrs. Harrel and coping with the problems presented by the suicide* But her resource­ fulness is completely baffled by the problem of returning to town*

There is an element of danger in returning to London unescorted, but this danger becomes blurred by questions of propriety and the spectacle of Mr. Marriot and Sir Hobert wrangling, on the verge of a duel, over which one of them will have the privilege of driving her back to town. Cecilia is saved from "their joint persecution" only by the appearance of Delvile* 150

Although some of the elements (characters) in this scene are not satisfactorily "real," the overall effect ie impressive. The contrast between the tragic background and the comic foreground makes for effective irony. The confusion, the comic misunderstandings, the displays of petty pride, the indiscriminate shifting from the significant to the trivial, all of these combine to produce an emotional effect difficult to label, but perhaps most accurately defined as grotesque. The scene is a powerful dramatization of the hostility between classes.

The last stage of the romantic plot is marked by sharp internal conflicts, reversals of position, and many highly wrought emotional scenes. Aware of their love for each other, Delvile and Cecilia seem confronted with but three possibilities: a marriage in which he gives up his family name, renunciation, or a marriage in which they give up her inheritance. Each of these possibilities is attempted in this last stage. First, Delvile proposes giving up his name in a clandestine marriage, which will force his parents to accept them when confronted with a fait accompli. When Cecilia objects to this proposal Delvile asks her:

“Will any virtue be offended by your honoring me with your hand?" "Yes, duty will be offended, since it is contrary to the will of your parents." "But is there no time for emancipation? Am I not of age to choose for myself the partner of my life? Will not you in a few days be the uncontrolled mistress of your actions? Are we not both independent? Your ample fortune all your own, and the estates of my father so entailed that they must unavoidably be mine?" 151

"And are these," said Cecilia, "considerations to set us free from our duty?"9

(It is to be noted that this is but a variant of the running argu­ ment between Monckton and Belfield about the relationship between

the individual and society.) Finally, before the urging of Delvile,

Mrs. ChareIton, and her own emotions, Cecilia lays aside her too

"scrupulous refinement" and consents, although not convinced that

it is a wise move. After Delvile leaves for London to arrange for

the marriage, she regrets consenting to this ant of "voluntary evil."

Monckton also urges her to reconsider. (Miss Burney manages to get

the maximum amount of sentiment out of these situations by having

her heroines impale themselves on both horns of the dilemma.)

After she decides to cancel the marriage, she is saddened but

comforted by the sense of virtue connected with her sacrifice: "The

true power of virtue she had scarce experienced before, for she

found it a resource against the cruellest dejection and a supporter

in the bitterest disappointment." But her attempts to notify

Delvile of her altered opinion are ineffectual because of a series

of unfortunate coincidences: her letter fails to reach him; en

route to -London she encounters and is detained by the familiar

group of type characters. The implauslbility of these obstacles which frustrate her attempts to cancel the wedding is surpassed by

the melodramatic device used by Miss Burney to halt the wedding:

it is interrupted by the shriek of a mysterious woman who flees from

the church before she can be identified or questioned. For Cecilia,

^Cecilia. II, 11^. 152 however* this interruption seems hut an external manifestation of her awareness that she is committing a wrong* She parts from

Delvile in an extremely sentimental scene,

^Delvile/ called out, "If you do not hate and detest me, — if I am not loathsome and abhorrent to you, Oh q.uit me not thus insensiblyj— CeciliaJ My beloved Cecilial— speak to me, at least, one word of less severity! Look at me once more, and tell me we part not foreverI" Cecilia then turned round, and while a starting tear showed her sympathetic distress, said, "Why will you thus oppress me with entreaties I ought not to gratify?~Have I not accompanied you to the altar,— and can you doubt what I have thought of you?" "Have thought?— Oh, Cecilial— is it then all over?" "Pray suffer me to go quietly, and fear not that I shall go too happilyl Suppress your own feelihgs, rather than seek to awaken mine • . • ,"10

When they part Cecilia refuses ever to marry him without the consent of Mrs, Delvile*

The next possibility pursued by the lovers is renunciation,

Mrs, Delvile, an elegant, dignified, proud woman for whom Cecilia has the highest esteem, visits Cecilia and obtains a promise from her that she will renounce Mortimer forever. When this promise is given, Mrs, Delvile1s departure leaves Cecilia greatly distressed.

Her hitherto shifted emotions broke forth in tears and repining: her fate was finally determined and its deter­ mination was not more unhappy than humiliating; she was openly rejected by the family whose alliance she was known to wish; she was compelled to refuse the man of her choice, though satisfied his affections were her own, A misery so peculiar she found hard to support, and about bursting with conflicting passion, her heart alternately swelledfrom offended pride and sunk from disappointed tenderness,!!

10Cecilia. II, 172, n Cecllia. II, 182. 153

But the stern, voice of duty demands yet another task of her:

Delvile insists that she reject him formally in the presence of his

mother* In this scene* laden with elegant emotions and fine phrases*

Mortimer refuses to obey his mother, and only when she ruptures a blood vessel does he consent to part from Cecilia*-^ During the

scene Delvile again argues, to little avail, with his mother against

complaince to convention:

"In the general commerce of the world it may be right to yield to its prejudice, but in matters of serious importance, it is weakness to be shakled by scruples so frivolous, and it is cowardly to be governed by the customs we condemn* Religion and the laws of our country should then alone be consulted, and where those are neither opposed nor infringed, we should hold ourselves superior to all other considerations." "Mistaken notions," said Mrs. Delvile, "and how long do you flatter yourself this independent happiness would endure? How long could you live contented by mere selfgratification, in defiance of the censure of mankind, the renunciation of your family, and of the curses of your father?"13

In this discussion Miss Burney has Mrs. Delvile hint at the solution

to this impasse: the way in which the hint Is ignored indicates

the regard for money in this society*

"Were this excellent young creature fortuneless, I would not hesitate in giving my consent; every claim of interest would be overbalanced by her virtues, and I would not grieve to see you poor, where so conscious you were happy; but here to concede, would annihilate every hope with which hitherto I have looked up to my son*"I**

^Although Mr. Crisp felt this scene too emotional, Miss Burney defended it as the high spot in the novel, "The very scene for which I wrote the whole book." Diary and Letters of Madame d»Arblav, II, 71.

13cecilia, II, 215*

^Cecilia, II, 213. 15^

In deference to Mrs. Delvile's Illness, if not her arguments,

Cecilia and Mortimer consent to the renunciation she asks of them*

Although she endures this parting with fortitude, Cecilia suffers greatly, and upon receiving a letter of gratitude from the conva­ lescing Mrs. Delvile "she burst into an agony of tears, which finding the vent they had long sought, now flowed unchecked down her cheeks, sad monitors of the weakness of reason opposed to the anguish of love*" During this period of renunciation, which lasts for several months, Cecilia is considerably saddened but attempts to console herself, now that she is of age and in charge of her estate, with numerous acts of benevolence* She suffers embarrassment on two occasions when Mr. Delvile encounters her in compromising situations in the company of Belfield; these meetings convince him (Mr* Delvile) that she is squandering her income on Belfield* The disappointment of her rejection of Delvile is made more embarrassing and poignant by Henrietta, who, unaware of Cecilia's relationship with him, discloses her love for him and elaborates upon his virtues*

After several months Delvile reappears to propose the third possibility, a marriage in which she renounces the annual income from her uncle's estate* Her inheritance of 10,000 pounds is con­ sidered adequate dowry by both his parents. Of course this inherit­ ance has already been wasted by Mr. Harrel* (This is another attempt by Miss Burney to give greater unity to the novel: the activities in the minor plot involving the lending of money to Harrel and the loss of her inheritance are now converted into a romantic-plot obstacle when Mr* Delvile refuses to accept her version of the losses 155 and. to give his consent to the marriage.) When Mr. Delvile refuses to believe Cecilia's statement about her inheritance, Mrs. Delvile leaves her husband and gives her consent to the marriage. Cecilia consents to another hasty and clandestine marriage, which is T i n - interrupted this time. How were the "romantic" goal merely the acquisition of a husband, the novel could terminate here, but the anxiety that Cecilia feels about the impropriety of this marriage must be fully dramatized by its unpleasant aftermath in order that

the full significance of the error be realized.

The travail begins when Delvile, having learned that Monckton has lied about Cecilia to his father, duels with and seriously wounds Monckton. In the scene in which Delvile relates the story of his actions to Cecilia, Miss Burney first suggests that derange­ ment which appears in the climax of the book. In this scene Cecilia is assailed by a number of emotions. Within a few pages she is amazed, affrighted, terrified, cheerful, gay, griefstricken, appre­ hensive as she hears of Delvile's actions and their situations:

"his quarrel with his father,— the danger of his mother,— his necessary absence,— her own clandestine situation,— and more than all, the threatened death of Mr. Monckton by his hands, were cir­ cumstances . . . full of dread and sadness." The predominant quality of the scene is pathos with tragic overtones— as Delville leaves.

Miss Burney compares Cecilia's situation to that of Belvedera in

Venice Preserved. Since Monckton may die, Delvile must leave the country. Cecilia's irregular status as the unacknowledged wife of

Delvile with no real social position is made more acute when she is 156 forced to forfeit her estate for violating the name-taking clause

in her uncle's will* She leaves her estate, after taking a senti­ mental departure from her servants and pensioners— "The road was soon lined with women and children, wringing their hands and crying,"

Having decided to join Delvile abroad, she goes to London to get advice from Belfield about traveling# While at Belfield's she is

interrupted by Delvile, who becomes extremely jealous at finding

Cecilia there, He orders her to leave, but she soon returns, fearing a duel between her husband and Belfield#

frantic with fear, Cecilia then starts in pursuit of her husband and arrives at several places just after he has left, finally she nearly overtakes him, and jumps from her coach to run

after him, but she is detained by the coachman demanding his fare#

At this point Mr, Simkins, who has accompanied her, begins to argue with the coachman about the fare and a crowd gathers so that Cecilia cannot escape# She is accosted by a "gentleman#" These distractions

and delays, her isolated, unprotected position late at night in

London, and her fear for Delvile*s safety combine to cause her to lose her reason#

This moment, for the unhappy Cecilia, teemed with calamity; she was wholly overpowered; terror for Delvile, horror for herself, hurry, confusion, heat, and fatigue, all asBilling her at once, while all means of repelling them were denied her, the attack was too strong for her fears, feelings and faculties, and her reason suddenly, yet totally failing her, she madly called out • . • ,^5

^Cecilia. II, 428-29. Shis scene provokes a complex emotional reaction within the reader*

If he sympathizes with the heroine, he finds himself concerned, anxious for her to overtake Delvile, and vexed, angry and frustrated by the obstacles that Interfere with her progress* Yet the objects which detain her are not the hate-bearing, anger-sustaining type*

Simkins, for example, has been an object of humor until this point, and even now, his argument with the "far from sober11 coachman over a shilling of Cecilia's money has its humorous aspects: his "appeal­ ing to some gathering spectators upon the justice of his case,” his threat of summoning the coachman to the Court of Conscience the next morning, his "prolix harangue” and his "formal apology” to

Cecilia— all of these viewed objectively are comical. The "stranger gentleman" who attempts to capitalize on Cecilia's predicament is likely to arouse the reader's disgust* Therefore, the peculiar combination of actions gives the reader a sense, once again, of the grotesque: in this instance it harmonised with and makes plausible

Cecilia's derangement* furthermore, the description of her behavior, as well as the motivation, seems "accurate.” As she runs through the street, the rapidity of the action, the selection of detail, and the prose style combine in an effective impressionistic recreation of Cecilia's mental state*^

^"Meanwhile the frantic Cecilia, escaped both pursuit and insult by the velocity of her own motion* She called aloud upon Delvile as she flew to the end of the street* tfo Delvile was therej — she turned the corner; yet saw nothing of him; she still went on, though imknowing whither, the distraction of her mind every instant growing greater, from the inflammation of fatigue, heat, and disappoint­ ment* She was spoken to repeatedly; she was even caught once or twice by her riding habit; but she forced herself along by her own vehement 158

The next two chapters are designed, to extract the maximum of pathos* Thinking her a walthy woman escaped from a private asylum, a pawnbroker keepB Cecilia locked in a room for three days until she ie discovered, nearly dead, by Albany* Her illness and convalescence sure characterized by tearful, exalted, frenzied expressions of concern and affection by Delvile, Henrietta and Albany: at one point Albany brings three children, recipients of Cecilia's charity, into the bedroom to pray for her ("Bow will the poor rue this day"). With her recovery Cecilia is accepted by both the Delviles, and lives, if not happily ever after, at least endowed with "sill the happiness human life seems capable of receiving," Occasionally she conplains at finding herself without an income, though once an heiress,

nationally, however, she surveyed the world at large, and finding that of the few who had any happiness, there were none without some misery, she checked the rising sigh of repining morality, and, grateful with general felicity, bore partial evil with cheerfullest resignar- tion.l?

The rather bitter-sweet quality of the ending represents

Miss Burney's rejection of the unnatural ending of most novels of the rapidity, not hearing what was said, not heeding what was thought, Delvile, bleeding by the arm of Belfield, was the image before her eyes, and took such full possession of her senses, that still, as she ran on, she fancied it in view. She scarce touched the ground; she scarce felt her own motion; she seemed as if endued with super­ natural speed, gliding from place to place, from street to street, with no consciousness of any plan, and following no other direction than that of darting forward wherever there was most room, and turning back when she met with any obstruction; till, quite spent and exhausted, she abruptly ran into a yet open shop, where, breath­ less and panting, she sunk upon the floor, and, with a look dis­ consolate and helpless, sat for some time without speaking, " Cecilia. II, 429-30.

^Cecilia. II, 4 7 3 . 159 time in which the hero and heroine seldom find a middle stage in accord with real life but end at the extremes of misery or happiness*

By her conclusion she hoped to establish a clear distinction between her novel and those of Mr* Noble's circulating library in which

"a marriage, a reconciliation, and some sudden expedient for great riches, concluded them all alike.

During the last half of the novel Miss Burney uses the minor plot for various purposes. She tries to use it for comic relief

In scenes involving the social types and the vulgar characters of the lower middle-class; occasionally, as I have indicated, these comic characters are used to produce embarrassment or frustration for Cecilia by introducing obstacles in the romantic plot. However, too often one has the feeling that the activities in the minor plot become time consumers to fill in the pauses In the romantic plot*

Although justification can be found for some of this action, much of it is likely to seem irrelevant because it lacks a truly vital connection with the main plot. Such episodes as those including the long-withheld story of Albany's life, the description of Cecilia's charitable actions, the too coincidental encounters with the occupa­ tion-changing Belfield and the group scenes involving incongruous members such as Albany, Briggs and Mr. Delvile are not completely acceptable, even though one Ca& see them being used for comedy, to characterize Cecilia, to present insignificant plot obstacles and contretemps and to reinforce some of the implications of the

^Qpiarv and Letters of Madame d'Arblav. II, 81* romantic plot* One of the most effective uses of the minor plot

is the way in which some of the details are used to develop a

realistic recognition within Cecilia of the meaning of money* When

Cecilia is deprived of her estate and is forced to leave Bury, she

feels the lack of funds* This is not merely another device to

emphasize the heroine’s predicament (no money, as well as no family)

it is presented with a causality that makes it clear that Cecilia

had as yet failed to learn the value of money* She has seen the

folly of Harrel's gambling but failed to realize the imprudence of

her own lavish gifts to charity*

Honey to her had long appeared worthless and valueless: it had failed to procure her the establishment for which she once flattered herself it seemed purposely designed • • • she regarded it as of little importance to herself and there­ fore thought it almost the due of those whose distress gave it a consequence to which with her it was a stranger*^9

When she is forced to abandon her estate, money begins to assume a

consequence for her, and she then begins to feel her error in

"living constantly to the utmost extent of her income without ever

preparing, though so able to have done it, against any unfortunate

contingency*" At the end of the novel she receives a legacy from

the sister of Mrs. Delvile and once again, with the assistance of

Albany, displays her benevolence, but now this charity is no longer unbounded since "she had learnt the error of profusion, even in charity and beneficence•"

In general the novel has a satisfactory degree of unity.

Although Miss Burney Includes a great deal of background material,

^Cecilia. II, 333»3^. l6l which I have labelled as the minor plot, this material is seldom unrelated to the romantic plot; the comic characters, the inherit­ ance-consuming experience at the EarrelB, the charitable forays,

all of these are made to function in the romantic plot* The plot, however, does have the following weaknesses* The reader may feel

that there is sometimes a specious causality in some of the events*

This is exhibited, for example, in the sequence describing the

discovery of the ailing woman who was working at the church when the

wedding was interrupted, Cecilia's addition of her to the entourage

of pensioners, the woman's identification of Miss Bennet as the

person who interrupted the wedding ceremony, and Cecilia's recognition

of Monckton’s duplicity. Nothing of value is connected to these

events; the gain for Cecilia is too trivial (Delvile also learns

from his father of Monckton's deceit) to suggest that this sequence

shows Cecilia being rewarded for her charitableness; furthermore

these events impose considerable strain upon the reader's credulity*

As 1 have already suggested, some of the later events in the minor

plot seem relevant but unnecessary; they do not contribute adequately

to the conclusion, the characterization or the background* In de­ veloping the plot Miss Burney relies frequently upon coincidence;

accidental encounters inevitable occur at inopportune times for

Cecilia; e*g*, Delvile encounters Cecilia's servant, learns that

she is at the Belfields' and finds her there alone with Belfield*

Furthermore Miss Burney sometimes makes the characters behave un­

naturally in order to keep the plot moving; e*g*, at the beginning 162 of the novel Cecilia and Delvile are made unnaturally obtuse and taciturn in order to protract the misunderstanding about Cecilia’s affairs with Sir Robert and Belfield#

The actions in the plot are intended to define and to fix

Cecilia's character# Her acquisition of knowledge about money and manners is shown dramatically and helps to make the book considerably less didactic than my analysis and my citations from the book would lndioate# Perhaps once again* a purist might object that in some instances the causality here is shaky: the difficulties arising after an imprudent act are not always the result of the act— Por example) Cecilia's distress after her first attempt at a clandestine marriage is the result of Monckton’s plotting; although her error exposes her to this distress* the direct cause of her suffering is his treachery#

Pinally, let me consider the emotional effect of the plot#

As I have mentioned, the nature of the obstacles to Cecilia’s marriage changes: in the early part of the novel they are external hindrances which cause neither the heroine nor the reader great concern; they arouse curiosity, anxiety or mild amusement within the reader# As the novel progresses, the external obstacles begin to produce sharper internal conflicts# The name-taking will and the Delvile concept of family produce strong internal conflicts between love and duty in both Cecilia and Delvile# The reader shares these emotions to some extent# Near the end of the novel as Cecilia's situation becomes more serious (she is deranged and near death), the novel produces considerable pathos# Although the authorial comments lead the reader to believe that the ending will not be tragic, the

ending itself is designed to indicate that the events themselves

and their tragic implications cannot be completely eradicated or

forgotten (or the money regained)* As I have indicated, there are

at least two scenes in the novel, effective and moving, which can be called grotesque in their combination of elements* furthermore

throughout the novel there are occasional scenes in which considerable

emotion, usually grief, is displayed by some of the characters (e.g.,

Mrs. Hill), and detail seems to be sleeted to produce a sentimental

reaction within the reader. But though some of the scenes and the

language, which I will consider later in this chapter, may be open

to charges of sentimentality, there is never any suggestion that

sensibility or fine feelings should be substituted for reason and propriety as arbiters of behavior*

This analysis of the plot indicates a great deal about the

novel’s "characterizing qualities," the second criterion in Miss

Van Ghent's triad of critical tezms. The plot analysis has indicated

the richness of the novel, which with its wide range in events and character offers a diversified picture of the types and social classes in the eighteenth century*2® Admittedly, this richness is not completely satisfying since at various points in the novel some of the characters, actions and scenes are too familiar or irrelevant*

20The range of the novel has been commented upon by most critics of Miss Burney's work* Even her contemporaries were impressed Sdmund Burke wrote to her, "You have crowded into a few small volumes an incredible variety of characters; most of them well planned, well supported and well contrasted with each other." Cecilia. I, xxii Albany's story, for example, Is the trite tale of Fielding's Man on the Hill* For the modern reader many of the "characters*" the social types* suffer somewhat from being outmoded or relatively uncommon today, and they are monotonously consistent in their behavior: they sure distinctly outlined but lack the vigor to make

their later appearances satisfactory, particularly when all action is halted in deference to their pexformances• With the exception of Lady Honoria, the "characters" of the lower middle class are more satisfactory than the social types; Briggs, Mrs. Belfield,

Hobson and Simkins are comically vulgar types presented with enough diversity to prevent them from becoming stale* (Perhaps this is another way of saying that there is an infinite number of circum­ stances in which a miser can display his traits, but the possibil­ ities are much more limited with a Jargonist or an Insensiblist,)

To a great extent the quality (concreteness, distinctness, etc.) of the novel is influenced by the point of view and the style

With Cecilia Miss Burney departed from the epistolary, firit—person point of view that she used so effectively in Evelina and adopted a "restricted" omniscient point of view. She seldom examines the thoughts of any of the characters except Cecilia and Mr* Monckton, other than for brief statements of feeling or motivation; such statements, more descriptive than analytical, are merely brief comments to amplify some accompanying action or speech ("Delvile now felt offended in his turn, but suppressing his vehemence, he gravely and guiltily said Miss Burney extends her use of the "restricted" omniscient point of view to include Monckton, 165 whose character is carefully analyzed when he le first introduced, and whose thoughts and motives are explored on practically every one of his subsequent appearances because of his role as the villain*

If he is to be effective in creating suspense and anxiety in the reader, his dishonorable intentions must be known; therefore, Miss

Burney chooses to inform the reader immediately and regularly of his schemes* But even here,, for purposes of surprise Miss Burney conceals from the reader certain of Monckton*s plans, such as his scheme for interrupting the marriage ceremony* Even more objection­ able is Miss Burney's crude handling of Albany, who first appears at Monckton's breakfast preceding Cecilia's departure for London with Mr. Harrel* In presenting the characters at this breakfast,

Miss Burney, as omniscient author, introduces each one with a description of his position, background and essential characteristics*

With Albany, her omniscience ceases; he is merely an "old gentleman" who sits in the corner, frowning, ignoring everyone except Cecilia, to whom he occasionally speaks with pity* He remains a figure of mystery to arouse the reader's wonder (and amusement) until late in the novel when Miss Burney chooses to have him tell his story of woe*^

Miss Burney's use of a limited authorial omniscience is more satisfactory in other situations in the novel* It makes possible

21 Many of Miss Burney's modern readers may not share Dr* Johnson's fondness for Albany* Miss Burney reports that Dr* Johnson fully "enters into all my meaning in the high-flown language of Albany, from his partial Insanity and unappeasable remorse*” Diary and Letters of Madame d'Arblay. II, 127* l66

Cecilia's gradual recognition, of Mr. Harrel1 s purpose* It is maintained successfully in Cecilia's relationship with Delvile; the

reader accepts her limited knowledge of his irregular behavior, his puzzling withdrawal and his vacillations between reserved formality

and extreme solicitude* Actually* of course, Miss Burney works 1

"around" her character* She suggests to the reader more than she

allows her heroine to understand so that the events which come as

an enlightenment to Cecilia come only as a verification to the

reader*

As omniscient author Miss Burney can also enter into the

novel herself to comment and generalize upon the actions and char­

acters* Although she never allows herself to enter the novel in

the first person, she does make generalizations, such as those about

Monckton'a scheme, which indicate her own moral position and allow

the reader to infer that Monckton's plans will fail* Sometimes her generalizations are brief epigramatic comments upon an action or

society ("Pleasure given in society, like money lent in usury, returns with interest to those who dispense it • • . •"), but she also

indulges in longer generalizations. Occasionally Cecilia's situation becomes a point of departure for a comment about human nature or life.

Where frailty has never been voluntary, nor error stubborn, where the pride of early integrity is unsubdued, and the first purity of innocence is inviolate, how fear­ fully delicate, how "tremblingly alive" is the conscience of manf Strange, that what in its first Btate is so tender, can in its last become so callous! Compared with the general lot of human misery, Cecilia had suffered nothing; but compared with the exalt­ ation of ideal happiness, she had suffered much; willingly, 167

however* would, she again have borne all that had distressed her* experienced the same painful suspense* endured the same melancholy parting, and gone through the same cruel task of combating inclination with reason* to have relieved her virtuous mind from the new-hom and intolerable terror of conscientious reproaches*^

Miss Burney's forays into the novel in these lengthy didactic passages are annoying; furthermore her habit of commenting,

as author, upon situations raises a problem of clarity when her comments are presented in juxtaposition to an analysis of Cecilia's

thinking* This problem is particularly acute because Miss Burney frequently presents the conclusions of Cecilia's thinking rather

than the thought processes in action— this method, also, results

in a loss in dramatic power* The following passage describes

Cecilia's decision to change her way of life at the Barrels';

Ashamed upon reflection to believe she was con­ sidered as an object of envy by others, while repining and discontented herself* she determined no longer to be the only one insensible to the blessings within her reach, but by projecting and adopting some plan of conduct, better suited to her taste and feelings than the frivolous insipidity of her present life, to make at once a more spirited and more worthy use of the affluence, freedom and power, which she possessed* A scheme of happiness at once rational and refined soon presented Itself to her imagination. She purposed for the basis of her plan • • • .^3

Do the adjectives "rational" and "refined" represent Cecilia's or

Miss Burney's judgment of this new scheme? This problem arises frequently; as another example note the scene in which she visits

Mr. Delvile to borrow money*

22Cecllia. II, 118

23ceollia. I, 51. 168

He began with his usual ostentatious apologies* declaring he had so many people to attend, so many complaints to hear, and so many grievances to redress, that it was impossible for him to wait upon her sooner, and not without difficulty that he waited upon her now* Meantime, his son almost immediately retired; and Cecilia, instead of listening to this harangue, was only disturbing herself with conjectures upon what had just passed,^

Does the word "harangue" represent Cecilia's or Miss Burney's

judgment of Mr, Delvile's conversation? This tendency cannot be

regarded as a great weakness• but such blurring between character

and author tends to weaken the distinctness of Cecilia as a char­

acter, The reader is likely to identify her with the author;

Cecilia tends to degenerate into a mouthpiece or a paragon, and

it is difficult for the reader to believe that the author really

disapproves of any of her acts, even though the outcome of the

actions and some of the purely didactic statements indicate that

this is the case*^>

Although Miss Burney's choice of the omniscient point of

view may make it easier for her to handle the broader canvas of

Cecilia, undoubtedly most readers will feel that she has sacrificed

too much in departing from the technique of Evellha, Only with

novelists of great technical skill or narrative talent can the omni­

scient point of view achieve the vitality of the first-person point

^Cecilia. I, 1?8.

^This blurring can be done effectively if the novelist does not generalize as Miss Burney does, Lubbock describes Flaubert's tendency to describe the world around Emma Bovaxy as she might see it and to thereby enhance the pictorial representation of her mind* The Craft of Fiction, pp, 68-70* of view. In Cecilia, for example, the appearance of the type— characters at a social gathering must undoubtedly annoy or amuse

Cecilia, but since the event is described from another point of view the reader does not feel sharply the emotional impact of the scene upon the heroine. Moreover, this poiht of view allows Miss

Burney to give free rein to her didactic tendencies. Finally, when an author uses the omniscient point of view, he must inevitably be held more closely responsible for the intellectual texture of

the work. Miss Burney is now responsible for the characterization of Albany and Delvile, for the statements about her heroine, about life and society. In Evelina many inadequacies are concealed by

Evelina. Thus, although the reader may believe that there are no such paragons as Lord Orville, many girls of seventeen envisage heroes like him. His characterization then becomes quite credible, a valuable reflection of the heroine's mind. With the omniscient point of view, the characterization reflects the author's mind.

In developing this story Miss Burney resorts constantly and effectively to scene. She frequently enlivens a section of narrative summary with a brief passage of dialogue. And some of the scenes which are not truly dramatic, in that they do not advance the plot, become enjoyable because of the effective interplay of the characters and the comical revelation of character through dialogue. If the social types were merely allowed to perform, their effect upon the reader would be much more impressive, but they are inevitably smothered by the explanation of their behavior, usually offered by Mr. Gosport, which accompanies their appearances. 170

The vitality of the more successful characters, such as Mr. Briggs*

Lady Honoria, Mrs. Belford, Mr. Hobson, and Mr. Siskins, comes from

the way they are constantly revealing the same characteristics in

different ways in their speech. Lady Honoria is entertaining with

the sprightliness of her repartee; Mrs. Belfield in the ways she

can manipulate the conversation to discuss her son's affairs and

to urge Cecilia to be less backward towards him; Mr. Briggs with

his stingy speech and "Are-warm"; Mr. Hobson with his variations

on "And that's my way of thinking"; and Mr. Siskins with his

"peticklar" servility.

The language of the other characters and the style of the

commentary are quite different from the dialogue of these comic

characters; they show a Johnsonian elegance which was always

latent in Miss Burney's writing, as the Preface to Evelina reveals.

In Cecilia one finds an increasing fondness for a latinized vocab­ ulary, for parallelism, balance, antithesis and inversions. These

traits appear in Miss Burney's generalization, as the quotation on

pages 166-167 shows, and in the speech of the aristocrats, in particular that of Delvile. Such language makes Delvile seem pompous, affected and unreal. For example, he addresses Cecilia

in the following fashion when he leaves her to bring Dr. Lyster,

the family physician, to treat his mother.

"One thing I should yet," he added, "wish to say: I have been impetuous, violent, unreasonable,— with shame and with regret I recollect how impetuous, and how unreasonable: I have persecuted, where I ought in silence to have submitted; I have reproached, where I ought in candour to have approved; and in the vehemence 171

with which I have pursued you, I have censured that very dignity of conduct which has been the basis of my admiration, my esteem, my devotionl but never can I forget, and never without fresh wonder remember, the sweetness with which you have borne with me, even when most I offended you*— For this impatience, this violence, this inconsistency, I now most sincerely beg your pardon; and if, before I go, you could so far condescend as to ess, with a lighter heart, I think, I should quit you,

The fullness of this expression with its insistence in defining the emotional states and the types of behavior, and the elaborate­ ness of the praise strike the reader as excessive. Such rhetorical, exaggerated statements, particularly those that deal with an emotion­ al situation, contribute greatly to the sentimental quality of the novel. Although the modern reader will not accept the language of

the commentary and the speeches as natural, the function of such language in the eighteenth century can perhaps be understood through the following analysis by J, M. S. Tompkins of the role of sentiment

(moralising) in some published samples of eighteenth-century corree epondence.

As we turn the pages, compliment requires compliment like the bows and curtsies in a minuet. It was a deliberate procedure, a cult of politeness in the most intimate human relationship, as a means of preserving a lovely conscious­ ness of each other's value. It was more. There is something hieratic in these postures. They dance before an altar with a ritual dignity. And here, before their stateliness stiffens in our fancy to a mechanical drill, we must pause to overcome our distruct of so much explicit virtue, to exercise, in fact, the petrifying shade of Joseph Surface, The discrediting of the sententious Joseph has brought suspicion upon all those who practice his art of moral generalization and disposed their virtuous perceptions tastefully in the shop window • . ,a generation which has discarded the urbanity of the eighteenth-century parlor

^Cecilia. II, 222-23* 1?2

to direct attention to the fellows in the cellarage will not be willing to acquit him of disingenuousness, or to pass his claim to turn only his best side outward to the world* Yet there is a word to be said for this display of moral sentiment* It was connected both with artistic ideas of the time and with its social conscience* Che citizen of the world, intimately aware of his re- sponsibilities to society, cultivated his virtuous sensations with care; and attempted to crystallize them into Words, to ensure their permanency and his power of repeating them* The moments he chose to perpetuate in this way were the high-water marks of his development, the occasions in which he approaches most nearly the proper stature of social man* Each moment was an achievement, a contribution to the common stock of right feeling, a subject of decent pride, and as such it was fitting that it should be carefully defined with all that majestic sententiousness, that polished dignity of ezplicit statement, which constituted elegance to contemporary taste* But it is the defect of this sort of eloquence that by engulfing all personal inflec­ tions in its rotund utterance, it leaves too little distinction between the moral sentiments * * • /of a Joseph Surface and those of a sincere man/* The moralist is, in consequence, exposed to the charges either of insincerity or ostentation*^?

To "insincerity" and "ostentation" one might add sentimentality when this habit is turned toward the expression of attitude, behavior or feeling in an emotional situation*

In considering the nmeaningfulne88H of Cecilia, one must notice the pattern of the events in the novel* As I have already indicated, the details in the minor plot are organized to develop within the heroine an increasing awareness of the significance of money* But it is also apparent that practically all the activities in the book are controlled by a regard for money* To a certain

27j . M* S* Tompkins, The Polite Marriage (Cambridge, 1918), pp. 19-20* This particular comment is based upon Tompkins' study of A Series of Genuine Letters between Henry and Frances. which Miss Burney mentions reading with great enthusiasm* The Early Diary of Frances Burney. I, 11-14* extent this is inevitable with the selection of a wealthy, un­ married heroine* Although Cecilia undoubtedly has natural charms, it is her wealth that draws suitors to her* Such fortune-hunting figures are not new in literature or in life* The high regard for money displayed by the better families is also familiar* For example, the Delvilee-— and they are an aristocratic family— are exceedingly anxious to better their family position by a wealthy marriage* What is different in this novel is the realistic way in which it is assumed that money is important* Mrs* Pel vile is extremely frank in revealing that the Delvile family needs money*

Even if Cecilia were without money, she would be an acceptable wife as a person; yet it is only as a last resort that Mortimer and Mrs*

Delvile think to ask Cecilia to give up her estate* This sacrifice for them and for Cecilia is so great that Cecilia herself never thinks to suggest it* Furthermore, one finds a quality that is unusual in novels in the insistence that there is a sacrifice involved in giving up the inheritance* In the last chapter of most books there appears a secret clause in the will, or a generous uncle, or some other crude plot device which insures the felicity of the protagonists by capping their marital success with material benefits*

It is seldom that the novelist attempts to recognize that the triumphs of Cupid may really entail economic sacrifices after matrimony* Miss Burney cannot completely resist the conventional treatment herself, for she consents to the introduction of a small legacy from Mrs* Delvile’s sister after the marriage* But even if 174-

Miss Burney does not completely dramatize the sacrifice entailed by the marriage, one must recognize the validity of her attempts to give full weight to the conflicting claims of both the emotional world and the material world*28

Mies Burney's emphasis upon the role of money in society reinforces a statement made by Lionel Trilling that the beginnings of the novel coincide with the emergence of a class society based upon money* Evelina shows an awareness of the class structure;

Geeilia shows both the consciousness of the class structure and its monetary basis* One notices how the aristocrats (Sir Robert*

Lord Brnulf) are eager to increase their wealth with advantageous marriagesi how the fashionable behavior of the ton depends upon an exhibition of wastefulness (economy is not "as much in fashion as extravagance”)* a public indifference to money, lavish displays, and gambling for exorbitant stakes* One notices the way in which fashionable members of the upper middle-class imitate the expensive behavior of the wealthier aristocrats, living beyond their means to do so, facing bankruptcy and dodging their creditors* One notes

®0f course, various writers have shown the importance of money; many of them through an analysis of the slums in large cities* It is seldom, however, that a novelist succeeds in showing fully the claims of both the spiritual-intellectual-emotional world and the material world* It is seldom that a heroine like Margaret Schlegel of Howards End can say (and mean) as she discusses the practical characteristics of her husband, Henry Wilcox: "If Wilcoxes hadn't worked and died in England for thousands of years, you and X couldn't sit here without having our throats cut* There would be no trains, no ships to carry us literary people about in, no fields to walk in* Just savagery. HO— perhaps not even that, without their spirit, life might never have moved out of protoplasm* More and more do I refuse to draw my income and sneer at those who guarantee it*" 175 at the lower end of the middle-class the scramble for money by the craftsmen and merchants as they vacillate between subservience by which they hope to obtain work from their wealthy superiors and forwardness as they attempt to get their pay for services rendered*

The difference between the independence of Hobson and Briggs and the servility of Slmkins is based upon the money they possess*

Surveying the entire society is the miser Briggs, whose "Where's the cash? Got ever a rental? Are warm? That's the point, Are warm?" for all its vulgarity and meanness exposes the basis upon which the social structure rests* When added to the inevitable differences in background, language, taste, etc*, these disputes over money and the different attitudes toward money tend to bring out all the hostility among the classes* Although the many alter­ cations among members of different classes in the novel may be exaggerated for comic effects, they do suggest the wide gulf between classes; in some instances the unwillingness and inability of members of one class to comprehend members of another could not be exceeded by people from different countries. In describing these differences the novel affords a comic display of the warfare among classes that was to appear in a much more violent form within a few years in

France*

One of the more interesting problems arising from the analysis of the role of money in this society is the study of the

Belfields* Young Belfield is intelligent, sensitive, well educated; as a result of his mother's pride and excessive fondness for him he has been educated "beyond his position"; at the cost of ruining 176 his family, he has been permitted to associate with wealthy aristocrats* This experience and his impulsive, gay, rather friv­ olous nature make him completely unfit for the problem of earning a living, for finding a position befitting his talents* His sister has a similar problem* Although the ruin of her family, brought about by her mother's indulgence of her brother, has taught her the dangers of aspiring to rise out of her class, she falls in love with Delvile, and nshe had conceived hopes the most romantic*"

(Cecilia, like the heroine of Bmma. occupies the uncomfortable position of competing for a lover with one of her servants*) In the case of young Belfield one sees the strength with which the class appeal moves both Mrs* Belfield and her son; the lengths to which they will go to secure a place in an upper class and the folly of trying to maintain a position in a superior class without the money to belong to it* In the case of Henrietta Belfield, one sees that she too has little possibility of achieving recognition; without a dowry a young woman of merit has little opportunity of marrying above her class* The problems posed by the Belfields are not satisfactorily answered by Miss Burney (but have they ever been answered by society?)* Belfield wanders from position to position until he finally returns to the Army in which "being fortunately ordered out upon foreign service, his hopes were revived by ambi­ tion and his prospects were brightened by a view of honor*" Henrietta is married off to Mr. Arnott; Miss Burney thus disposes of two of her cast of characters, but fails somewhat in treating realistically the problem posed by Henrietta* (Jane Austen uses the same expedient In addition to showing the way money organizes society, the novel also attempts to show that existing beyond, or in addition to, material concerns there is a complex relationship between the individual and society* The complexity of this relationship is debated by Belfield and Mr* Monckton and is shown by Cecilia's experience* Seeing other women around her being disposed of in the marriage market, Cecilia reflects: "How I rejoice that my independent position means that I am not to be disposed by being set up for sale*" However, she finds that her wealth does not make her a free agent; instead she learns how fully she is enmeshed in an intricate framework of responsibilities both social and familial* The nature of her experiences (as well as Monckton's arguments) expresses Miss Burney's attitude toward the recognition of and adherence to social and familial responsibilities* Hear the end of the novel Cecilia observes to Delvile:

The misery of DISQBBDISHCE we have but too fatally experienced; and thinking as we think of filial ties and parental claims, how can we ever hope happiness till forgiven and taken into favor?^9

It may be impossible to agree completely with the extremely con­ servative position taken by Miss Burney, but it must be admitted that novels which attempt to extend the individual's awareness of the responsibilities (the duties) he has for the people around him (people as people and not as institutions) are valuable, par­ ticularly in an "other-directed" world in which people share

29Cecllla, II, 46l. 178

tastes but not duties with their associates*

Although the novel dramatizes the way in which society is held together by money, it also contains ideas about man and

society frequently expressed in philosophical literature* Some of

these ideas are simply explicit statements which lack dramatic

effectiveness because they are unsubstantiated by events in the

novel* For example. Dr* Lyster proposes a moral for the novel as

he explains to Cecilia and Mortimer the causes of their troubles*

"The whole of this unfortunate business,14 said Dr* Lyster, "has been the result of PRIDE and PREJUDICE* Tour uncle, the Dean, began it, by his arbitrary will, as if an ordinance of his own could arrest the course of nature I and as if he had power, to keep alive, by the loan of a name, a family in the male branch already extinct. Your father, Mr. Mortimer, continued it with the same self-partiality, prefering the wretched gratification of tickling his ear with a favourite sound, to the solid happiness of his son with a rich and deserving wife. Tet this, however, remember, if to PRIDE and PREJUDICE you owe your miseries, so wonderfully is good and evil balanced, that to PRIDE and PREJUDICE you will also owe their termination: for all that I could say to Mr* Delvile, either of reasoning or entreaty,— and I said all I could suggest, and I suggested all a man need wish to hear,— was totally thrown away, till I pointed out to him his own disgrace in having a daughter-in-law immured in these mean lodgings * . • • Thus the same passions, taking but different directions, do mischief, and cure it alternately* "Such, my good young friends, is the MORAL of your calamities*"30

This moral, which may have some validity for the behavior of Mr*

Delvile and other minor characters but is otherwise a mere tag, echoes ideas expressed in Mandevllle and Pope about the equivocal nature of such vices as pride* Somewhat more dramatically rendered

30cecllla. II, 462-63* 179

is the strain of Johnsonian pessimism in the novel* The concluding paragraph of the novel (See page 158 above) concurs with the stoical acceptance of man's limited happiness expressed in The Vanity of

Homan Wishes and Hassolas* Indeed, it seems difficult to believe

that much of the philosophy of the book is not derived from Rasselas*

Both Cecilia and Rasselas leave their happy valleys to learn about

life; Cecilia's travels about London observing life parallel

Rasselas' wanderings in Egypt* Their quests are similar: like

Rasselas, Cecilia is anxious to determine the nature of happiness,

for after her first failure to find contentment in London, she

observes:

"What at last," cried she, "is human felicity? Who has tasted and where is it to be found? If I, who, to others, seem marked out for even a partial pos­ session of it,— distinguished by fortune, earressed by the world, brought into the circle of high life, and stir rounded with splendour,— seek without finding, yet losing, scarce know how I miss itiN31

Cecilia too enters into a regimen at once nratlonal and refined"

to obtain happiness, but at the end of the novel, although she may not believe that "human life is every where a state in which much

is to be endured, and little to be enjoyed," she does recognize the limitations of human happiness* This pessimism about the lack of felicity in life fits well with the conservative social position

3^-Cecilia. I, 51* This statement can be compared with many similar statements in Rasselas: for example, Rasselas, who is at first convinced that happiness can be found by observing and listen­ ing to wise men, states as he begins his experiments upon life: "I am pleased to think • • • that my birth has given me at least one advantage over others, by enabling me to determine for myself* I have here the world before me; I will review it at leisure; surely happiness is somewhere to be found*" Rasselas (Oxford, 1898), p* SO* defined in the presentation of social patterns; neither a joyousness nor a hopefulness axe characteristic of the cosmic Toryism of the century which believed that both the social and the natural orders were divinely ordered. 32

32see Basil Willey, The Eighteenth Century Background (London, 19^0), pp. 43-56. CHAPTER IV

Camilla

Fourteen years elapsed between the publication of Cecilia and Camilla* During five of these years (1786-1791) Miss Burney was

Assistant to the Keeper of the Queen's Robes; in 1793 slie married a French refugee* Alexander D'Arblay, and in 179** gave birth to their only child* Alexander* In spite of her many diversified activities during this period she continued to write; however* until 1 7 9 5 she concentrated on writing plays rather than novels*^* In attempting to account for the disparity between Cecilia and Camilla, different critics have attached considerable significance to each of these 2 biographical and literary experiences* Undoubtedly these exper­ iences were important, but it is doubtful that any one of them

■^•Her tragedy Edwy and Elgiva was presented with Sarah Siddons and John Kemble for one night only; a comedy, Love and Fashion, was accepted by the Convent Carden Theater but withdrawn because her father feared another failure* In addition to these plays Miss Burney wrote at least two other tragedies and three other comedies* Joyce Hemlow, "Fanny Burney: Playwright" University of Toronto Quarterly. XIX (1950), 170-89. 2 Austin Dobson thus summarizes the reasons usually offered for the appearance of the "roundabout pomposity" of Miss Burney's style in Camilla: "It has been ascribed to recollections of Johnson,— to imitations of Dr, Burney,— to the influences of a French husband,— to the inflation superinduced upon a Court appoihtment*" Dobson himself suggests that whenever she had anything fine to say, she insensibly adopted the language which she had been working with in writing her unsuccessful blank verse plays* Austin Dobson, Fanny Burney (Hew York, 1903), pp* 188-89*

181 182

contributes to the literary change in just the way some critics have

claimed. To argue, for example, that the efforts at writing verse

tragedy produced an inordinate fondness for elegant language is to

ignore the evidence supplied by the language in Evelina and Cecilia.

It seems more satisfactory to regard the total effect of these ex­

periences as contributing to an altered "aesthetics of the novel"

for Miss Burney, for the difference between Cecilia and Camilla is

not merely one of style. In a letter to her father describing her

progress with Camilla, she indicates her disapproval of certain

types of novels and her clearly didactic purpose in writing Camilla.

I own I do not like calling it ^JTamilla^ a novel; it gives so simply the notion of a mere love story, that I recoil a little from it. I mean this work to the sketches of char­ acters and morals put in action,— not a romance. I re­ member the word novel was long in the way of Cecilia, as I was told at the Queen*s house; and it was not permitted to be read by the Princesses till sanctioned by a Bishop's recommendation . . . .3

This expression of aversion to novels does not differ greatly from

Miss Burney's earlier observations in the Preface to Evelina, in which she vows to avoid the "fantastic regions of Bomance" by

adhering to Eature. When she came to write Camilla, Miss Burney

evidently felt that it was not enough to avoid "luxurious Imagi­ nation"; Immorality, as well as improbability, had to be routed— hence a work that was "to be sketches of characters and morals put in action." Here in Miss Burney's letter we have an indica­ tion of the way she reacted to the often expressed desire for

3Piary and Letters of Madame D'Arblay. V, 26*U 183 didacticism and morality in the novel; the passage also indicates the sort of audience Miss Burney envisaged, and the biographical experiences out of which her concept of the novel had grown*

While throwing some light upon the differences between her early novels and Camilla, these statements by Miss Burney do not indicate adequately her intentions in Camilla* In order to arrive at an adequate statement of the novels purpose (the plot) let us consider the following details* The subtitle (HA Picture of Youth") and the following paragraph with which the novel opens indicate the nature of the protagonists and the particular part of life in which the morals are to be "put in action*"

Repose is not more welcome to the worn and to the aged, to the sick and to the unhappy, than danger, difficulty, and toil to the young and adventurous* Danger they encounter but as the fore-runner of success; difficulty, as the spur of ingenuity; and toil, as the herald of honour. The experience which teaches the lesson of truth and the blessings of tranquility, comes not in the shape or warning nor of wisdom; from such they turn aside, defying or disbelieving* 'Tis in the bitterness of personal proof alone, in suffering and in feeling, in erring and repenting, that experience comes home with conviction, or impresses to any use/*

The novel, then, purports to dramatize certain qualities in youth*

The plot consists of a lengthy romantic sequence beginning with the

^Frances Burney, Camilla; or. A Picture of Youth (London, 1796). I» 3* Obviously Miss Burney could not fully believe that the young learn only from direct experience, or she would not have written a novel intended to instruct them* That this was her aim is shown by her reaction to the reviews Camilla received in The Monthly Review for October 1796* Although this review was in the childhood of the heroine, Camilla Tyrold, and culminating with her marriage to Edgar Mandelbert* This romantic sequence follows the familiar pattern: in spite of various obstacles imposed by other people, themselves, and fortune, Camilla and Edgar are drawn to­ gether through a preference based upon a regard for each other's character; after the recognition and declaration of their love there occurs a period of widening separation because of a series of mis­ understandings, unfortunate coincidences and indiscretions on

Camilla's part; finally when Camilla's actions seem to have tempor­ arily alienated her parents and permanently separated her from Edgar, and she seems to be on the verge of death, a reconciliation is effected, which leads to her recovery, restoration within her family and marriage to Edgar* Some of the events in the novel are not directly connected with the Camilla-Edgar sequence; these actions influence the romantic plot and help to make its Implications more apparent* In order to broaden the "Picture of Youth," Miss Burney surrounds the heroine with three other young women (Lavinia, Eugenia and Indiana) whose romantic involvements affect, compare to, and contrast with her own* With the exception of the events involving Eugenia, the other romantic actions main favorable, it contained several sharp criticisms which dis­ appointed her in their severity, but on reconsideration, she felt that the critic's final comment, a recommendation of the book as a warning guide to youth, repaid her for "whatever strictures might precede it®* Diary and Letters of Madame D'Arblay. V, 301* 185 are clearly subordinated to the main action* In addition to the figures already mentioned, a cast of about fifty characters, including various members of the Tyrold family, servants, friends and diverse people en­ countered in society, function in the plot to hasten or Interfere with the romantic development* Of particular importance in this development are Sir Hugh Tyrold, Lionel Tyrold, Mrs. Arlbery, Sir Sedley Clarendel,

Mrs. Mittin and Mrs. Berlinton*

It is possible to make some further generalizations about those materials in the novel tthich are suggestive of the themes. Although

Oamllla is devoted somewhat more fully to the emotional qualities of love than are Evelina and Cecilia, like them it places its emphasis upon social behavior and the way in which violations of propriety can lead to contretemps and more serious difficulties. Camilla,a social sins arise from impulsiveness and lack of foresight, qualities usually identified with youth but here exaggerated into a "ruling passion*1* Camilla, who has an "imagination that knows no control" and an indifference to everything but "the present moment," has a sensibility that is dangerous, for it leads her into two types of difficulty: social improprieties and financial extravagance* Her social improprieties result in an estrangement between her and Edgar because he infers that her lapses in decorum imply certain unattrac­ tive qualities* in her character. Her extravagance results in her being forced into other social solecisms and in her creating acute financial problems for her parents* Money plays an important role in the novel 186 as a consequence of Its connection with the heroine’s problems and its being constantly shown as the central motivation for many of the char­ acters* In brief then, this is the way in which the persons, places, things, and events in the novel are selected to develop relationships among character, manners, and money*

Now let us consider the emotional effects which the plot is designed to create within the reader* The analysis of the plot of

Evelina indicated the way in which the comic effect was sustained even though the events were distressing or painful to the heroine*

This novel too contains comedy: 9atirlc and humorous presentations of the speech and behavior of comic types who display their foibles in a diversity of circumstances, farcical scenes, and effective repartee* However, these characters, events and conversations are overshadowed by the events connected with the development of the romantic plot, which is designed to arouse anxiety, fear and pity, particularly the latter. Miss Burney seldom uses the heroine as a source of comedy; initially her situation may arouse a mild amusement but the obstacles confronting her become more serious, and the reader is intended to feel anxiety and pity for her* The didactic purpose of the novel is suggested once again here: the heroine's weaknesses are to be exposed, but since their unattr&ctiveness is not to be shown by ridicule, it must be shown through her suffering from them*

This presentation of the protagonist's difficulties tends to be sentimental: the details of action and speech which will create pathos within the reader are the ones constantly selected and emphasized* 187

In summary, It can be said that although Camilla shows the customary emotional range of the novel, the comic effects are subordinated and dominated by the "serious" and sentimental qualities*

These generalizations about the plot can be supported by a more extensive consideration of some of the details* In order to define the pattern of the plot, I will consider Book I in some detail, a few scenes from the rest of the book, the function of the sub-plot in­ volving Eugenia, and the pattern of the main plot and its tone* These comments about the plot will also make clearer the subsequent discussion of the novel's "characterizing qualities" and "meaningfulness*" The firs book in this ten-book novel serves as a prologue: the events described in it occur seven years before the central action described by the rest of the novel* This prologue is centered on Sir Hugh

Tyrold, who purchases the Cleves* estate near the house of his brother and family* The characteristics of the members of the Tyrold family are established largely through their reactions to and relation­ ships with Sir Hugh* The Joan-Darby relationship of Mr* and Mrs*

Tyrold, their enjoyment of their children and the education and in­ telligence of Mr* Tyrold are all contrasted to the unmarried, unedu­ cated status of Sir Hugh, who is generous and good natured, "but his talents bore no proportion to the goodness of his heart, an lnsuper- able want of quickness, and of application to his early days, having left him at a later period wholly uncultivated and singularly self- 188 formed."^ Book I emphasizes the value of education when Sir Hugh* who

is both inactive and "wholly uncultivated," turns with disastrous consequences to his brother's children for entertainment. Camilla

is permitted by Mr. Tyrold to spend time at Cleves because he feels she may then inherit a share of Sir Hugh's wealth; Sir Hugh does make her his heir, but only for a brief period. At the party given on Camilla's tenth birthday, Sir Hugh's folly in allowing the children

to visit a fair during a smallpox epidemic results in Eugenia's con­

tracting the disease, which badly disfigures her face. The day after

the fair. Sir Hugh allows Eugenia to fall and injure herself so that

she is permanently crippled. To atone for his mistakes, Sir Hugh now makes Eugenia his heir. Out of this equence grows some of the confusion about the identity of Sir Btagh's heir which directs much of

the remaining action.

During the scene at the fair, the reader is given a chance to

Judge the children by their behavior; they display all too obviously

the qualities Miss Burney has conveniently labelled them aB possessing.

Their behavior and the sequence of actions establish the basic pattern for the book: Lionel, who instigates the visit to the fair, is self-

^Most modern readers will find Sir Hugh too "singularly self­ formed," too childlike to be acceptable. It does little good to learn that Miss Burney was congratulated for the creation of the figure (Diarv and Letters. V, 308» ^03) or to be reminded that the standardization of life has tended to eliminate the "Dickensian exaggerations" of earlier centuries. See Bobert Liddell, Some Principles of Plction (London, 1953)» PP» 17-8. 189 ishly Indifferent to the dangers for Eugenia and anxious to partake of the pleasure regardless of the expense to others; Camilla, con- side rate but thoughtless, is anxious for pleasure and willing to accept any proposal that promises pleasure for herself and the others*

Indiana, proud of her beauty and selfish, considers only her own pleasures in the novelty of visiting the fair; Lavinia (who disappears almost completely during the remainder of the novel), solicitous and obedient to parental commands, allows herself to visit the fair only when persuaded by Sir Hugh* When it becomes apparent that Eugenia is mixing with people at the fair who are infected with smallpox,

Sir Hugh is hopelessly ineffectual; assisted by Lavinia, Edgar

Mandelbert, a wealthy ward of Mr* Tyrold*s, demonstrates his in­ telligence in the efforts he makes to cope with the situation* Be­ fore this incident, Edgar has been attracted to Indiana because of her beauty, but Camilla's unselfish concern for her sisters and her uncomplaining acceptance of Sir Hugh's change in heirs wins his regard*

The second sequence in Book I, which reveals more clearly

Miss Burney's concern with education, consists of Sir Hugh's project to remedy his youthful academic negligence by learning Greek and

Latin with the assistance of Dr* Orkborne, the typical absent- minded, impractical scholar* Sir Hugh's efforts are futile:

With neither quickness to learn, nor memory to retain, he aimed at being initiated in the elements of a dead language, for which youth only can find time and application, and 190

even youth by compulsion* His head soon became confused, his ideas were all perplexed, his attention was vainly strained and his faculties were totally disordered.®

Sir Hugh*s failure results in his attempting to share Dr* Orkborne's

services as a teacher with the children of his relatives* After

Lionel ridicules his lack of knowledge. Sir Hugh turns Indiana, his niece, over to Dr. Orkbome* Her tears and petulance at having to

learn fail to stop the lessons, but the arguments of her querulous

governess, Miss Margland, (by which Miss Burney satirizes conven­

tional ideas of the education of woman) are more effective*

She represented dictatorially her objections to the baronet* Miss Lynmere, she said, though both beautiful and well brought up, could never cope with so great a disadvantage as the knowledge of Latin: "Consider, Sir," she cried, "what an obstacle it will prove to her making her way in the great world, when she comes to be of a proper age for thinking of an establishment. What gentle­ man will you ever find that will bear with a learned wife? except some mere downright fogrum that no young lady of fashion could endure*" She then spoke of the dangers of injuring her beauty by study, and ran over all the qtuplific at ions really necessary for a young lady to attain, which consisted simply of an enumeration of all she herself had attempted; a little music, a little drawing and k little dancing; which should all, she added, be but slightly pursued, to distinguish a lady of fashion from an artist*7 rinally, in order not to have Dr. Orkborne’s services wasted, Sir

Hugh decides to make Eugenia his pupil; Sir Hugh hopes that she

will then be learned enough to marry Clermont, Indiana’s brothera

^Camilla. I, 81.

^Camilla. I, 100-101. 191

whom Sir Hugh, wishes to requite for failing to make him his heir*

In this first section of the novel Miss Burney establishes

the characters of the principal figures and suggests the subse­

quent plot development. Edgar has been characterized in a way that

reveals him as a suitable mate for Camilla, and although he originally

evinced a preference for Indiana, he has been more powerfully attracted

to Camilla. Certain obstacles to their union are suggested by Sir

Hugh's and Indiana's conviction that Edgar prefers Indiana* As a

result of the actions in Book I, Eugenia has developed into a char­

acter with qualities— physical unattractiveness and bookiness—

which differ from Camilla's and offer possibilities for a contrasting

"z’omantic" development; to a lesser extent these possibilities also

exist for Indiana and Lavinia* The reader anticipates that obstacles

will arise to thwart Sir Hugh's rather arbitrary plan for marrying

Eugenia to Clermont. Although the information of Book I is necessary

for the subsequent action of the novel, one must say that for several

reasons this first book is quite unsuccessful as a beginning to the novel* The "roundabout pomposity" of the language is particularly

evident, and this book contains too much exposition and only two

dramatic sequences (those dealing with the fair and Sir Hugh's educa­

tional project}* Eurthermore Miss Burney has failed completely to create credible children; her younger people may be concerned with childish things, but they talk and reflect like adults; consequently

they are not believable or interesting enough to arouse the reader's curiosity* The entire book takes on the quality of an educational tract— ‘Characters and actions used to demonstrate a moral rather than

"characters and morals put in action*11 Moreover* the educational moral (study when you are young) is not rich or interesting enough to make the reader desire its continued elaboration in the rest of the novel* One of the greatest weaknesses in this section lies in

Miss Burney's failure to create a consistency of tone: this section presents the reader with the perplexing emotional shifts of tragi­ comedy but fails to provide any clues to resolve the tension satis­ factorily* Sir Hugh is meant to be an object lesson, the adult who did not apply himself as a child, but his behavior and the syn­ tactical oddities of his speech make him a comic figure. Further­ more, Miss Burney's comments about him suggest that he is a likable comic character to be regarded with mild amusement and forbearing approval* Therefore, the reader is somewhat confused when faced with the painful consequences of his actions are shown fully by his own suffering (with his childish vacillations from joy to grief) and the sufferings of others* The almost gratuitous fashion in which Eugenia is sacrificed to his folly is puzzling to the reader* Perhaps, by concentrating on Camilla during Eugenia's illness, Miss Burney attempts to minimize the reader's awareness of the painful conse­ quences for Eugenia, but the reader will find little satisfaction in a substitution which consists of conversations like this one between Camilla and Sir Hugh:

"0 my dear uncle," cried his long banished Camilla, who hearing him upon the stair, skipt lightly after him, Mhow glad I am to see you again! I almost thought I should see you no morel* Here ended at once the just acquired tranquillity of Sir Hugh; all his satisfaction forsook him at the appear­ ance of his little darling • . • his eyes filled with tears • • . • "My dearest unclel* cried Camilla, holding by his coat, and hanging upon his arm, "won’t you speak to me • • . . 0 unclel" she cried plaintively, "and I have not seen you so long • . . "My dear Camilla," he replied, with increased agitation, "I have used you very ill • • . He then shut himself into his room, leaving Camilla drowned in tears at the outside of the door*®

The sentiment of these pages and the uncertainty of tone for the entire book contribute considerably to its failure*

Obviously, it will be impossible to treat the remainder of the novel with as much attention as has been given to Book I; it will be necessary to rely on generalizations illustrated with a detailed discussion of a few particular scenes* In Book II, which deals with events after a lapse of seven years, Miws Burney resorts to her familiar device, the use of social events* A brief analysis of three of these scenes will suffice to show the way in which Miss Burney has the figures of Book I repeat their character- defining performances to show that they have not changed with time*

These scenes also indicate the way in which social events are used as backdrops for the action, the types of character introduced, and

80amllla. I, 59-61 the sort of plot complication that develops* The young women— Camilla*

Indiana, and Eugenia— are allowed to enter society somewhat earlier than ordinarily because of Sir Hugh* He has become convinced that

Edgar favors Indiana* and he is anxious to get Indiana off his hands so that he can dispense with the services of her governess Miss

Margland, who insists that the popularity Indiana would enjoy if she went to social events would force a declaration from Edgar* Lionel, whose desire for excitement produces many of the difficulties in the novel, suggests a country ball* Although Edgar would prefer to escort

Camilla, Sir Hugh insists that he escort Indiana* At the dance they all receive considerable attention, particularly after Lionel has circulated among the guests telling some groups that Camilla is

Sir Hugh's heir and other groups that Eugenia is the heir* Because of her beauty Indiana is widely admired, and she is flattered by the at­

tention she receives from a drunken Irishman, Ensign Macdersey* (Miss

Burney carefully contrasts Macdersey with another Irishman, Lord

O'Lerney, and then digresses to comment upon the dangers of general­

izing about national traits*) Eugenia receives attention from a polite

Mr* Bellamy, a fortune hunter. Camilla finds herself engaged in con­ versation with a fop, Sir Sedley Clarendel, whose displays of af­ fectation are Interspersed with witty, insulting retorts to Miss

Margland and satirical comments upon the absurd attire and behavior of some of the dancers* Camilla also receives attention from a flattering Major Cerwood and the vulgar Mr* Dubster, who is convinced 195 that his small wealth entitles him to be regarded as a retired gentle­ man rather than the tinker or wigmaker his behavior, conversation and petty monetary preoccupations indicate he once was* Sir Sedley's encounter with Mr* Dubster is a comic conflict between one who af­ fectedly contrives to violate manners and one who lacks them* Sir

Sedley1s rudeness is matched by that of the attractive, middle- aged Mrs* Arlbery, who appears "with an air of fashion easy almost to insolence, in a complete but becoming undress, with a work-bag hanging on her arm whence she was carelessly knotting" and attracts a retinue of men with whom she converses loudly while ordering them to perform menial tasks for her* Thoughout the evening Edgar is prevented from dancing with Camilla by his obligations to Indiana and his considerate attentions to Eugenia*

Once engaged in their social pursuits, the group has to attend the next event, a public breakfast on the following morning; this episode is designed to establish a greater harmony between Edgar and

Camilla, and at the same time to define the sort of obstacle that will keep them separated* The scene also contains familiar literary ingredients— criticism of social-political injustices and pleas for benevolence* Outside the building in which the breakfast is being held, they are stopped by "a poor woman nearly in rags with one child by her side and another in her arms," who presents them with a peti­ tion* This woman is ignored by everyone in the group except Edgar and Camilla, who has been "brought up by her admirable parents never 196 to pass distress without inquiry, nor to refuse giving at all#11 The woman pleads for her husband, who is to be transported or to lose his life for stealing a leg of mutton when he was ill and penniless*

These victims of a harsh penal and judicial system— familiar figures in literature— evoke Camilla's sympathy and generosity, and she gives the woman money and promises to assist her; Camilla's reactions are shared and admired by Edgar* The breakfast itself is made enter­ taining by the comical behavior of Mr. Dubster, who has been convinced by Lionel that Camilla is an heiress, and by the conversation between

Sir Sedley, a dirty, shabby picture of "willful slovenliness," and Mrs. Arlbery, dressed in a "fantastic and studied attire*" Miss

Burney satirizes the entire gathering, which has assembled for enjoy­ ment at this particular time because the country assizes are in pro­ gress* Their pleasure is contrasted with the misery of the pensioners outside the building. Their selfishness and indifference are shown by the way in which they ignore the pleas for money but are able to produce a half-guinea for a raffle on a locket, "a mere common bauble*" At first Camilla refrains from entering the raffle, but she

is unable to resist a specific invitation to participate from Mrs.

Arlbery* Much impressed by her early resistance, Edgar* is dis­ appointed at her succumbing and "retires in silence*" It is this sort of behavior on Camilla's part, with somewhat more flagrant lapses of propriety or restraint, and Edgar's reaction to her be­ havior that characterize the development of the romantic plot* 197

Miss Burney links events or scenes together by compounding

Camilla's errors; each mistake Camilla makes seems to require some

act of correction which inevitably Involves her in further dif­ ficulties* For example, she realizes that the money spent on the

raffle could more charitably be given to the pensioners, so she

enlists Edgar's aid in trying to withdraw from the raffle* This

decision produces complications in which she ends up by being in­

debted to Edgar; ultimately it becomes necessary for the group

to attend the raffle. This foray into society produces all the

characters earlier introduced and a new one, Melmond, the Sensiblist*

As has been mentioned, Miss Burney is anxious to make the reader

aware of the strain of dangerous (because uncontrolled) sensibility

in Camilla's character; therefore Melmond and his sister, Mrs*

Berlinton, are introduced into the novel. Here is Melmond*s

entrance:

No one was ih the shop but a well dressed elegant young man who was reading at a table, and who neither raised his eyes at their entrance, nor stiffered their discourse to interrupt his attention; yet though abstracted from out­ ward objects, his studiousness was not of a solemn cast; he seemed wrapt in what he was reading with a pleasure amounting to ecstasy. He started, acted, smiled, and looked pensive in turn: while his features were thrown into a thousand different expressions, and his person was almost writhed with the perpetually varying gestures* From time to time his rapture broke forth into loud exclam­ ations of "ExquisiteJ exquisitel" while he beat the leaves of the book violently with his hands in token of applause or lifting them up to his lips, almost devoured with kisses the passages that charmed him. Sometimes he read a few 198

words aloud, calling out "Heavenlyl" and vehemently stamp­ ing his approbation with his feet; then suddenly shutting up the book* folded his arms and casting his eyes toward the ceiling, uttered, ”0 too muchl too muchj there is no standing itl" Yet again, the next minute, opened it and resumed the lecture*°

Tor the modern reader this description of Melmond's absurd behavior is amusing; yet such is the context surrounding this passage that the reader is uncertain that Miss Burney intends this to be a satiric passage* A consideration of Melmond* s role in the novel——his polite­ ness, his honorable behavior, and his marriage to Eugenia— suggests that Miss Burney approves of him in spite of the anti-sensibility thesis of the novel which is clearly apparent in Miss Burney's treat­ ment of Melmond's sister* When Melmond becomes aware of the gather­ ing at the raffle, he is overwhelmed by Indiana's beauty and "rivetting his eyes, in which his whole soul seemed centered, on her lovely face, stood viewing her with a look of homage, motionless, yet en­ raptured." His imagination conceives of her as "some being of celestial order," a fancy which draws Miss Burney's observation:

"The play of imagination, in the romance of early youth, is rarely interrupted with scruples of probability." Melmond's behavior draws laughter from all the group assembled for the raffle except

Edgar and Eugenia; Edgar's attempts to ease Melmond's embarrassment educe Camilla's approval and a compliment:

^Camilla, I, 232-33* ^he work which draws forth the enthusiastic reaction is Thomson's Spring* 199

"How like my dear father was thatl to give relief to embarrassment, instead of joining in the laugh which excites it." Edgar, touched by a comparison to the person he most honoured, gratefully looked his acknowledgement • . •

The raffle also produces the inevitable contretemps for Camilla: as she is about to leave, Mrs* Arlbery invites her to dine with her that evening* She accepts in the face of the opposition of Miss

Margland, who is vexed at not being invited* As she enters Mrs*

Arlbery's coach, she sees Edgar and is reminded of an earlier appoint­ ment to visit and reward the pensioners* Committed to this earlier plan, she now has to decline Mrs* Arlbery1s invitation and accept the latter's cool dismissal as she descends from the coach* Edgar is delighted by the humane cohsiderations which motivate her re­ fusal: "Amiable Camilla," said he, conducting her back to Miss

Margland, "this is a self-conq.uest that I alone, perhaps, expected of youl" Needless to say, her behavior in subsequent dilemmas of a more serious nature does not often have his approval*

This brief description of three scenes indicates clearly the pattern of the novel; it reveals the characters of Camilla

(impetuous generosity) and Edgar (judicial, polite, reserve), the way in which Edgar judges Camilla's behavior and his subsequent approval or rejection, the sort of obstacles interspersed by Sir

Hugh, Mrs. Arlbery and others, the variety of types (assorted fortune

10Camllla, I, 2^5* 200 hunters, fops, military men, senslbilists), the insertion of irrele­ vant material such as the digressions on national character and the penal system, the use of Camilla's errors to develop the plot, and the emphasis upon the need for prudent handling of money#

Let me now generalize about the pattern of the events in the Camilla-Edgar main action as it develops in the rest of the novel# This action can be considered as occurring in two stages, the first of which terminates with Edgar's proposal of marriage in Book VII# It becomes obvious early in the novel that this marriage is the goal toward which the plot is directed# Edgar and

Camilla are established as the protagonists and as suitable mates, and their growing affection makes it apparent that a marriage pro­ posal and acceptance will result unless obstacles are interposed#

Eor many hundreds of pages obstacles of three sorts are presented: those created by other people, by the protagonists themselves, and by fortune# In the first category one would place Sir Hugh's mistaken belief that Edgar favors Indiana# Sir Hugh informs all the other main characters, except Edgar, of this belief, and convinces them of its truth# This belief causes Camilla no concern until she becomes aware of her affection for Edgar, then It poses all sorts of inner conflicts and problems of decorum; to avoid not only the critic­ ism of Miss Margland but the reproaches of her own sense of pro­ priety, she must use all her good sense and delicacy to conceal 201 her partiality for him* Occasionally this means deliberately ignor­ ing his advice in order to show that he has no great influence over her* Although Edgar has advised her to refrain from forming a friendship with Mrs* Arlbery* whose unrestrained behavior in public has aroused his concern for her morality, Camilla is forced by Miss Margland's malicious comments to disregard his advice by visiting Mrs. Arlbery* (Fortune is always over-active to magnify

the consequences of these acts, for on her second visit to Mrs*

Arlbery's, Edgar unfortunately appears to find her there receiv­

ing considerable attention from Major Cerwood.) This mistaken idea about Edgar's affection for Indiana dominates much of the early action; even when Edgar realizes that the others have this mis­ conception, his contradiction, in which, to avoid hurting Indiana's feelings, he expresses a lack of partiality for nay of Sir Hugh's nieces* only strengthens Camilla's determination to conceal her own affection*

There are many other obstacles imposed by other people; among the most important are the advice of Dr. Marchmont and Mrs*

Arlbery and the acts of Lionel* Dr* Marchmont, who has been un­ happily married twice, urges Edgar to be certain that Camilla's disposition will be in harmony with his and to be sure that her acceptance of his proposal will be based upon affection rather than her dAsire for a wealthy marriage* This advice tends to make excessive­ ly watchful and cautious one already too "observant of the errors of 202

others*" Whenever Edgar contemplates making a proposal to Camilla* he consults Dr. Marchmont or recalls his advice and delays* (Mr*

Tyrold's advice, to a much lesser extent, serves to retard the re­

conciliation of the protagonists, for when he learns of Camilla's

apparently unrequited love, he urges that she behave with restraint

and writes her a "sermon" on the woman's difficulties in the marriage

market.) Mrs* Arlbery, whose behavior somewhat justifies Edgar's

concern for her character, extends the action by her advice; when

Camilla visits Tunbridge with her, she urges her to be attentive

to Sir Sedley to arouse Edgar's jealousy* Thus encouraged, Sir

Sedley becomes fond of Camilla, devotes his time to her, pruchases

presents for her, and finally places her under considerable obli­

gation to him by leading Lionel 200 pounds* As a result of her

gratitude for these favors Camilla cannot avoid being so consider*-

ate to Sir Sedley that she confirms Edgar's fears that she is a

coquette*

But it is the acts of Lionel that impose the greatest

obstacle to the union of Camilla and Edgar* His plan for extorting money from his uncle necessitates Mrs. Tyrold's departure for Lisbon,

which consequently leaves Camilla without maternal guidance* As a

result of his extravagance, he is constantly borrowing from Camilla,

who responds not only because of her generosity but also because of her desire to save the family from a scandal* As a result of her

own expenses and her generous aid to Lionel and others, she goes 203 into debt herself. A1 though comparatively small, her debts become a matter of serious concern for her when her parents learn of

Lionel's prodigality and axe burdened with his debts.

As a consequence of the advice and acts of other people,

Camilla's behavior is found objectionable by Edgar, but her own nature is also responsible for much of her difficulty. Her genero­ sity makes it almost impossible for her to refuse Lionel's requests.

She consents to play the coquette with Sir Sedley, because in her naivete she believes that when she finally rejects his attentions

Edgar will appreciate her indifference to Sir Sedley's title and greater wealth. But her greatest failing lies in her thoughtless choice of companions, such as Mrs. Berlinton and Mrs. Mittin.

Camilla first encounters Mrs. Berlinton while walking "upon a wild and romantic common" where the latter, dressed in a flowing white dress, reads a letter by moonlight. When she is accosted by a man

(Lord Hewford), Camilla comes forward to help protect her. Mrs.

Berlinton thanks Camilla and hastily drives off in her carriage.

For some time she conceals her identity from Camilla, but they frequently meet to converse in rather elevated terms.

They did not speak of Tunbridge, or public places, nor diversions; their themes, all chosen by the stranger, were friendship, confidence, and sensibility, which she illustrated and enlivened by quotations from favorite poets, aptly illustrated and feelingly recited; yet always uttered with a sigh, and an air of tender melan­ choly. Camilla was now in a state so depressed, that notwithstanding her native vivacity, she feel as lmper- 2Cft

ceptibly into the plaintive style of her new acquaintance, who seemed habitually pensive, as if sympathy rather than accident had brought them together.^

Camilla later learns that Mrs* Berlinton has been forced into a marriage to an elderly, wealthy man; after marriage she despises and avoids him and considers herself free to place her affections as she chooses; she maintains a romantic correspondence with "the most amiable of friends, the most refined— perhaps— -of human beingsl" (Mr. Bellamy). With time this devotes of Sensibility begins to display the latent dangers of a modus vlvendl in which

"principle is not the guide." To her inordinate fondness for forms of sensibility (the "platonics") she adds an unrestrained weakness for coquetry and gambling, even permitting a faro game to be con~ ducted in her home. Finally, shortly after Bellamy's marriage, she reusmes her intimacy with him. Although Camilla's friendship with Mrs. Berlinton produces no seriously harmful consequences, it does, of course, help to alienate Edgar and place her in several indecorous situations.

Much more harmful is her relationship with Mrs. Mittin, a

"sponge," who offers an amusing picture of the way a forward and ingenious woman can live off the ton by cadging food, clothing, tickets for plays and so forth. She ingratiates herself with

Camilla by performing little tasks, running errands, and shopping for her. Her officious helpfulness is unneeded and unrequested

■^Camilla. Ill, 152. 205 and inevitably results in expenses Camilla cannot afford* Under

Mrs* Mittin's guidance Camilla becomes involved in actions of more and more serious consequences* An unescorted walk together results in Camilla's nearly being attacked by a licentious nobleman and then in a duel being fought over her* As a result of Mrs* Mittin's efforts Camilla keeps getting further into debt* Mrs* Mittin urges her to borrow money from a money lender, then warns the money lender that he may be unable to get the money. This warning results in Mr. Tyrold'B being imprisoned for Camilla's debts*

Much of Camilla's trouble comes as the consequence of fortune, or plot manipulation. Miss Burney contrives again and again to have

Edgar appear at a time calculated to produce the greates embarrass­ ment for Camilla. Fortune is extremely active also in preventing the protagonists from having any extended conversation which might clarify their differences; several conversations are interrupted by Mrs* Margland, Ensign Macderseyf a footman. The constant inter­ vention of Fortune in the plot will be even more apparent in the discussion of the tone of the novel's last sequence*

How what of the tone of the novelT In the early books there are scenes of pure farce, but frequently even seenes which begin as comedy conclude on a melodramatic or pathetic note* The following discussion of three seenes will display these character­ istics* One of the most farcical scenes is started, as is frequent­ ly the case, by Lionel, who frightens the group aa they enjoy a walk 206

through the fields while returning from church by yelling that the hull in the nearby field is mad and then fleeing in feigned panic•

Miss Margland, the particular target of Lionel's prank, runs "from

the gate with the nimbleness of youth and flying to the style, re­

gardless of Sir Hugh, and forgetting all her charges, scrambled

over it and ran on from the noise, without looking to the right

or the left*" Indiana also flees until she meets Melmond, then

indulges in coquetry with "starts, little shrieks and palpita>-

tions11 to attract and maintain his attention* Bellamy hurries

Eugenia off to a neighboring farm house in which he makes a bended-

knee supplication that she not risk her life by venturing out to

determine the fate of the others until he gets a chaise to take her home* Camilla and Dr* Marchmont, Edgar's tutor, succeed in

assisting Sir Hugh out of any possible danger* When the party

begins to reassemble, Dr* Orkborne is still missing: he is found

at the original spot in "an intense absorption of thought," writing

a passage of Virgil's Eclogues in his notebook, oblivious of the

rout that has occurred*

Miss Burney spoils the farcical .aspects of this dispersal by extending the sequence too long; she dwells too long on its

aftermath— Edgar's problem of getting the group together again,

a problem which is protracted by the temperamental outbursts and

stubborn behavior of Miss Margland, the prolonged and "pretty" 207 expressions of Indiana for the benefit of Melmond, and the awk­ wardness produced by the unwelcome presence of Bellamy, a rejected suitor* Furthermore, although neither Dr, Marchmont nor Dr*

Orkborne plays a large role in this scene. Miss Burney digresses to dwell upon the difference in their characters* In the midst of the reassembling action, the reader encounters a two-page description of Dr. Marchmont, his position, erudition, urbanity, complaisance, and the surprise and envy of Dr. Orkborne in finding "such civil­

ities and good humor in so great a scholar*" The attempt to use

this episode to show there may be a difference in the characters of scholars makes for a clumsy interruption of the narrative* (One

is almost tempted to suggest that this unexpected digression arises from the fact that the previous chapter is entitle "Two Lovers"—

Melmond and Bellamy, who sire seen at the church services— and since

in this episode there are two Doctors, this chapter was labelled

"Two Doctors*" The awkwardly inserted description of Dr* Marchmont

is necessary to validate the chapter title*)

More frequently, sequences which begin at the comic level take a sentimental or pathetic turn, as is shown in the scene at

Dubster's partially finished home. As usual Lionel initiates the action by urging Eugenia and Camilla to Inspect a house being con­ structed; when they arrive on the premises, they realize that it belongs to Dubster, who still has hopes of marrying Camilla* Forced by Lionel into making a tour of the property, they are treated to 208 an amusing display of 'bourgeois taste as Mr* Dubs ter shows them his grotesque house, his island, his grotto, summer house and labyrinth*

(The labyrinth, for example, is a small zig-zag walk through some brushwood about three feet high, closely crowded with entangling briars and thorns • As they unhook their way along the path, Mr*

Dubster explains that a ramble in this rural retreat will be good for his appetite and will save him the expense of the five grams of rhubarb that the doctor has ordered him to take for his stomach ailment— this ailment, he adds, came upon him as soon as he became a gentleman with nothing to do but walk about)* While they are examining the house, Lionel rushes off to joint a stag-hunt, playfully withdrawing the ladder so Eugenia, Camilla and Mr*

Dubster are stranded on the second floor* They finally succeed in attracting the attention of some passing washerwoman, who refuse to help the group descend when Mr. Dubster begins to wrangle about the reward he will give them* When Eugenia asks the women for assistance, they vent their rancor at Mr. Dubster*s stinginess upon Eugenia by making insulting remarks about her appearance:

"What were you put up there for Miss? to frighten the crows?” "Miss may go to the market with her beauty; she'll not want for nothing if she shew her pretty face!" "She need not be afraid of it, however • • . for 'twill never be no worse* Only take care, Miss, you don't catch the smallpoxj" "Hoity, toity * • . . Why, Miss, do you walk upon your knees?"^

1^Camilla. II, 317-I8 . 209

Since the extent of her deformities had been concealed from her*

Eugenia is astonished* then grief—stricken by their cruel comments*

(The scene is also used to introduce complications into the main plot* Major Cerwood passes and manages to climb up and join them; anxious to profit by this encounter with Camilla* he claims that he is unable to help them down* The inevitable embarrassment occurs when Lionel returns, for he brings Edgar with him who is dismayed at Camilla's casual acceptance of Major Cerwood1s atten­ tions; she in turn is still resentful of Edgar's earlier state­ ment of his indifference to all of Sir Hugh's nieces* Edgar concludes that she is in love with Major Cerwood and magnanimously decides to investigate the Major's financial condition to learn if he is a satisfactory husband for Camilla*)

This episode displays a confusing uncertainty of tone*

The reader enjoys the comic, satirical description of Mr* Dubster's home, the vulgarity of his speech and behavior, even the comedy of his display of niggardliness and his wrangling with the washerwomen, but the tone is shifted too abruptly when their spitefulness is directed at Eugenia. Nor does Miss Burney attempt to minimize the painful effects of these speeches upon Eugenia, who is melancholy for some time and disappointed that her family, at the request of

Sir Hugh, has concealed from her the ugliness of her appearance*

Miss Burney frequently uses these petiods of grief that her characters 210 undergo for moralizing* To dispel Eugenia's grief Mr. Tyrold

sermoniges and takes her upon two visits: the first visit to a family from whom a few shillings quickly produce lavish prfcise and

flattery convinces her of the folly of regarding seriously the

comments of mean, selfish people; a second visit to the home of a

beautiful, but insane, young woman convinces her that richness of

mind is more valuable than external beauty*

The sudden shift in tone and the didactic digression are

also apparent in the episode describing Camilla's attendance at a

ludicrous performance of Othello given by some strolling players*

The performance is comical: each actor speaks in a different

dialect; the costumes are absurd since each actor has but one costume

for all the plays in their repertoire; Othello, dressed like

Richard III, has his face blackened with burned cork; the gestures

are so outrageous they seem meant "to intimidate the audience;"

the ladies act so energetically and raise their arms so high that

by the end of each act they have t o m the sleeves out of their

gowns; Othello’s wig catches fire during the scene in which he

smothers Desdemona, and so forth* In the midst of this performance,

one of the comedians comes to the pit door and calls out:

"Hi'm desired to hask hif Miss Camilla Tyrold's hany way ere hin the ouse, for hi'm hordered to call her hout, for her luncle's hill and dying*" A piercing shriek from Camilla now completed the interruption fltf all attention to thb performance and betrayed her hiding place.^3

1 30amllla. II, ^12* 211

However, even this melodramatic announcement is connected with its contretemps; Camilla has been attempting to remain unnoticed, for she is at the theatre unescroted, since Mrs* Arlbery, with whom she went to the theatre, has already departed; with this announcement, however, all hope of concealment is impossible* Arriving home

Camilla finds Sir Hugh ill but unexpectedly lucid, for his inco­ herent pattern of speech incredibly leaves him when he delivers a death-bed sermon accompanied by the tears of his family* Naturally he recovers*

In many scenes the comic note is more nearly pure* The scenes, for example, in which Major Cerwood and Mr* Dubster propose to Camilla, may be seen by the reader as slightly embarrass­ ing for Camilla, but they are essentially comic since they emphasize the behavior of these men, who have been misled by Lionel into believing that Camilla is an heiress, when they learn during the course of their proposals that she is not* Some of the repartee of Sir Sedley is also amusing:

"I am not without some thoughts of falling in love*” He looked at Edgar; who, not aware that this was designed to catch his attention, naturally exclaimed: 11 Thought si can you choose, or avoid at pleasure?0 "Most certainly* After four-and-twenty a man is seldom taken by surprise; at least not till he is past forty: and then, the fear of being too late, sometimes renovates the eagerness of the first youth* But, in general, your willing slaves are boys*" Edgar, laughing, begged a little information, how he meant to put his thoughts in execution* 212

"Hothing so facilel 'Tis but to look at some fair object attentively, to follow her with your eyes when she quits the room; never to let them rest without watching for her return; filling up the interval with a few sighs; to which, in a short time, you grow so habituated, that they become natural; and then, before you are aware a certain solicitude and restlessness arise, which the connoisseurs in natural history dub falling in ldve*" "There would be good hints," said Edgar, "to urge on waverers, who wish to persuade themselves to marry*" "0 no, my dear sir! not That's a mistake of the first magnitude; no man is in love when he marries* He may have loved before; I have even heard he has sometimes loved after; but at the time never* There is something in the formalities of the matrimonial preparation that drive away all the little cupidons * * . • Parchmentsi LawyersI— -not there is not a little Love in the island of Cyprus that is not ready to lend a wing to set passion, inspiration, and tenderness to flight, from such excruciar- ting legalities*" "It seems, then," said Edgar, "to be much the same thing what sort of wife falls to a man's lot; whether the woman of his choice, or a person he should blush to own?" "Blush!" repeated Sir Sedley smiling; "noI noI A man of any fashion never blushes for his wife, whatever she may be* Jor his mistress, indeed, he may blush; for if there are any small failings there, his taste may be called in question."1^*

Although this attitude of the Bestoration dandy expressed by Sir

Sedley is not new in literature, it comes as a relief in the midst of

the engulfing sentimentality, for in the main the scenes and the pattern of action in the romantic plot are "serious*"

At the beginning of the novel Camilla's behavior is amusing; made extremely self-conscious by her recently recognised affection for Edgar, Camilla blushes, stammers, tips over dishes, etc* But such scenes are few, for soon Camilla "weeps without cessation" at her predicament* The reader observes that although the distance between the protagonists widens and narrows, the trend is toward a

^ Camilla. Ill, 33**~36 greater separation; the one exception is the brief interlude in

Boolp VII in which they are permitted an uninterrupted converBai- tion and are able to resolve their differences# The reader can per­ haps infer that since the difficulties in the first stage are finally resolved* the estrangement of the second stage will likewise end happily# It is apparent* however, that the difficulties of the second stage are potentially much more dangerous# In the first stage for example, Camilla has to endure the annoying attentions of Major

Cerwood and Dubster; her debts are only a few pounds; Edgar only contemplates going abroad# In the second stage, she is nearly attacked by a nobleman; she is frequently in the company of licentious nobles; her debts are now over 100 pounds; Edgar does go abroad; she is alienated from her parents as well as from Edgar#

Undoubtedly, the '•happy" termination to the first stage of the roman­ tic plot and the evidence of Miss Burney^ generally approving atti­ tude toward the heroine lead the reader to believe that the ending will be a happy one; yet the presentation of details makes for pathos for Miss Burney dwells upon the painful consequences of Camilla's acts, and at the same time she emphasizes that the heroine is es­ sentially virtuous and that her misfortunes are the result of chance* of rather venial sins (impetuosity) or even of her virtues (sympathy and generosity)# The emphasis upon pathos (and the use of chance) is most obvious in the last sequence of the novel This sequence begins when Camilla is informed that her father has been imprisoned for her debts* She hastens to visit him in jail* but she is preceded by her mother, who has returned from

Lisbon* Unable to face her parents* Camilla wishes for death*

Again, wringing her hands* helf distracted. "0, that the earth," she cried* "had received me, ere I quitted the parental roofI Innocent I had then died, beloved, re­ gretted,-— no shame would have embittered my Tether's sorrow— no wrath my Mother's— no culpable misconduct would have blighted with disgrace their so long— long wished-for meetingj."15

Through a series of clumsy plot manipulations Miss Burney now con­ trives to isolate her heroine; Camilla journeys from place to place, always finding them undesirable or herself unwelcome: Mrs. Berlin­ ton' s home in London is undesirable because of the latter»s relation­ ship with Bellamy* Eugenia's home is equally unattractive because of Bellamy's open cruelty to Eugenia and hostility to Camilla. In an episode that seems borrowed from a Cothic novel , Camilla visits

Cleves at night but finds it deserted except for Jacob, the groom, who informs her that her father will bring a prospective tenant there the following day. Rather than be suddenly confronted by her father, she leaves Cleves the next morning. She wishes to return home, but her mother, believing her in the company and care of Miss Margland, is unwilling to see her as yet. Finally she stops at an inn a few miles from her home and waits for directions from her parents; they are not at home when one of her letters is delivered

^Camilla. V, 3^6. another letter is accidentally destroyed and not delivered* As a result of this series of coincidences Camilla believes herself for­ saken by her parents* After four days without food and sleep*

Camilla is "full of fever, faint, pallid, weak and shaken by nervous tremors." Wishing for death and convinced that she is near it*

Camilla writes sentimental letters of farewell to her parents and

Edgar. Erom her room she observes a group of people carrying a corpse toward the inn. Later she descends the stairs* finds the corpse lying unattended and (in another Gothic scene) forces her­ self to remove the cloth covering its face: it is Bellamy, who has accidentally killed himself while threatening Eugenia* The

"grim, repulsive, terrific" appearance of death now awakens her conscience to her own guilt, her selfish wish to die "self-murdered through wilful self-neglect." "She called back her wish /to * with penitence and affright; her agitation became torture, her regret was aggravated to remorse, her grief to despair*" In a delirious dream she has a vision of being struck by Death and brought to judgment before the Records of Eternity. When she awakens, she requests the services of a clergyman; however, the parish clergyman is not available, so the innkeeper permits Edgar to read the prayers* (Edgar accidentally encouhters Lionel while abroad and after taling with him, returns to see Camilla; as a result of one of the few fortunate coincidences in the novel he 216 stops to rest his horses at this inn while enroute to Cleves*)

Discovering Camilla, Edgar summons her parents, to whom her messages have miscarried, and she quickly regains her health* After a series of tearful reunions, confessions and explanations, she is married to Edgar.

The romantic action occasionally displays comical episodes, the sub-plot never does. Miss Burney uses the sub-plot for various purposes; for example, it reinforces the didactic intention and moral of the main plot. Eugenia's affair with Bellamy constitutes another object lesson illustrating the dangers of ignoring parental advice and indulging in sensibility. Although cautioned by her parents and friends that Bellamy is a fortune hunter, Eugenia is so inex­ perienced, so gratified by his expressions of affection and so considerate of his feelings that Bhe is ultimately duped into marry­

ing him. In her handling of the sub-plot Miss Burney attempts to evoke curiosity, suspense and pathos. Bellamy's character is not clearly revealed, to the reader; he remains a shadowy figure, alwgtys hovering in the background with a chaise* Until the last book his attempts are thwarted, but finally the long-threatened promised kidnapping takes place* The pathos rises from Eugenia's noble and considerate character and her constant suffering. Her unattractive appearance, the apparent hopelessness of her love for Melmond, the brief engagement to him, the generosity of her renunciation of him so that he can marry Indiana and the gift of half of her inheritance 217 to them, Bellamy’s cruel treatment of her after their marriage- all of these details are handled to make her an admirable and pitiable figure* Although at the end of the novel Eugenia marries Melmond, the extent of her suffering gives the sub-plot the qualities of a domestic tragedy; it is difficult for the reader, however, to accept the details of this sub-plot as credible, The sub-plot is inter­ woven with the main action in various ways; primarily it serves at various points to draw Camilla and Edgar together as they become concerned with Eugenia's involvement with Bellamy,

After examining the plot of Camilla, one cannot help agreeing with the statement Miss Burney made to George III about the novel's size: "My subject grew upon me, and increased my material to a bulk that I am afraid will be more laborious to wade through for the reader than the writer."^ Part of the size comes from Miss Burney's desire to present a picture of contemporary social life by describ­ ing a diversity of social events (country balls, public breakfasts, raffles, amateur theatricals, performances by strolling players, animal shows, water parties, operas, and dances) in a series of locales

(an estate in Hampshire, Tunbridge, Southampton and London)• Her desire to play the social historian does not dominate the story; the reader is not conscious of the characters being moved from event to event and place to place for the sake of the social back­ ground, Furthermore, the majority of the sizable cast of minor

Diary and Letters of Madame D'Arblav. V, 27^, 218 characters are interesting: Mrs* Mittin, Mr. Dubster, Sir Sedley, are essentially flat characters, but their eccentricities are die-* played with enough variety and distinctness to be comically effec­ tive. The weakness in the novel arises from the way in which the events in the romantic plot are connected and from the development of the main characters. With very few exceptions (Dr. Orkborne*s

"fishing trip," Miss Dennel's marriage) the actions are essentially relevant to the main action; the plot has unity. But the pattern of events is monotonous and many of the events are unnecessary.

Miss Burney is attempting a tour de force in trying to see how long she can keep Camilla and Edgar separated. She continues to play this game long after her ingenuity has tired. The reader quickly learns that whenever Camilla and Edgar are engaged in a conversation that would clarify their differences, this conver­ sation will be interrupted; the reader knows that whenever Camilla is in a compromising position, Edgar will apear; the reader knows that Lionel's appearance indicates further entanglements for Camilla.

Another distressing part of this monotonous pattern is its dependence upon coincidence; the novel is almost as miraculous as the romances

Miss Burney decried.

Furthermore, the monotony of events leads to an undesirable monotony of tone, for the purpose of all these gratuitous acts of fortune is to place the heroine in an embarrassing predicament 219 which is designed to stimulate the reader's anxiety or pity* In many instances the predicaments axe no more serious or harmful than those in which Evelina is involved, but even though Evelina might have regarded the events as serious, the reader, as a result of the way the material is presented, regards them as comic; in

Camilla the reader is expected to view the events as seriously as

Camilla and Miss Burney do* And of course the reader cannot be expected to consider a petty dispute over which female receives

a nosegay from an eligible male as a vital matter per se; it can

take on significance for the reader only if Its importance for

the characters can be realized. Unfortunately none of the "romantic" characters in the novel are presented vividly enough to be identi­ fied with* The "external" treatment that works so well with the humor

characters in creating a detached, objective attitude in the reader

is inappropriate with the romantic characters. A brief discussion of the point of view and use of scene in the novel may make clearer

the nature of Miss Burney's technique and the reasons for its failure*

Miss Burney writes from the omniscient point of view, fully entering into the minds of the characters to indicate their thoughts and feelings. With the exception of Bellamy (and to a much lesser extent Mrs. Berlinton), the intentions of all the characters are

revealed fairly constantly rather than being periodically and arbitrarily concealed for purposes of surprise or suspense. However, there is little analysis of thought processes; even the purposes 220 a—d thoughts of Edgar, Camilla and Eugenia are usually revealed through conversations and behavior, and any "analysis" of thought is usally a mere explanation of the motivation for an accompanying act* On those occasions when Miss Burney presents an analysis of a character's thoughts she does it through a generalized summary and often uses the summary as an opportunity for a didactic generalization* This tendency is exhibited in the passage describing Camilla's thoughts as Mr*

Tyrold attempts to question her about her feelings for Edgar.

Camilla could neither answer nor look up: she was convinced, by this question, that the subject of her melancholy was understood, and felt wholly overcome by the deeply distressing confusion with which wounded pride and unaffected virgin modesty im­ press a youthful female, in the idea of being sus­ pected of a misplaced, or an unrequited partiality*-*-?

Frequently reflective analysis becomes an opportunity for an authorial summary of the situation for the benefit of the reader* For example,

Camilla's concern at her inability to repay Sir Sedley is thus de­ scribed:

Here in the extremest perturbation, she saw the full extent of her difficulties, without perceiving any means of extrication. She had no hope of recovering the draft from Lionel, whom she had every reason to conclude already journeying from Tunbridge. What could she say the next day to Sir Sedley? How account for so sudden, so gross an acceptance of pecuniary obligations? What inference might he not draw? And how could she undeceive him, while retaining so im­ proper a mark of his dependence upon her favor? The displeasure she felt that he should venture to suppose

^Camilla, III, 29* 221

she would owe to him such a debt, rendered but still more palpable the spaces of expectation it might authorize*^-®

Only In the four rhetorical questions is there recreated a vague sense of the character’s thought processes* But the first two sentences and the last murky sentence are clearly thought—summary being presented more to define the situation than to create a sense of character* Frequently Miss Burney attempts to give her rendition of the thought processes greater dramatic power by breaking them or terminating them with brief soliloquies by the character— a gain, perhaps, in dramatic power but a loss in credibility. When Camilla discovers her fondness for Edgar, still believing him engaged to Indiana, she meditates alone about her unfortunate attachment*

This consciousness, however, became soon a call upon her integrity, and her regret was succeeded by a summons upon propriety* She gave herself up as lost to all personal felicity, but hoped she had discovered the tendency of her affliction, in time to avoid the dangers, and the errors to which it might lead. She determined to struggle without cessation for the conquest of a partiality she deemed it treachery to indulge; and to appease any pain she now blushed to have caused to Indiana, by strictly following the hard prescription of Miss Margland, and the obvious opinion of Eugenia, in shunning the society, and no longer covetting the approbation of Edgar. “Such, my dear father," she creid, "would be your lesson, if I dared consult youl such my most honoured mother, would be your conduct, if thus cruelly situatedJ"^-9

^Camilla, III, 4-35-36.

^Camilla, II, 73 222

The most extended and effective passages analyzing thought are those describing Edgar* For example! he is concerned about Camilla's popularity with the ton:

Still* however, even this celebrity was not what most he dreaded: so sudden and unexpected an elevation upon the heights of fashionable fame might make her head, indeed, giddy, but her heart he thought too good to be endangered so lightly; and though frequently, when he saw her so circumstanced, he feared she was undone for private life, he could not reflect upon her principles and dis­ position without soon recovering the belief that a short time might restore her mind to its native simplicity and worth* But another rock was in the way, against which he apprehended she might be dashed, whilst least suspicious of any peril* This rock, indeed, exhibited nothing to the view that would have affrighted any spectator less anxiously watchful, or less personally interested in regarding it* But youth itsftlf, In the fervor of a strong attachment, is as open eyed, as observant, and as prophetic as age, with all its concomitants of practice, time and sus­ picion* This rock, indeed, far from giving notice of danger by any sharp points or rough prominence, dis­ played only the smoothest and most inviting surface; for it was Mrs* Berlinton, the beautiful, the accomplished, the attractive Mrs. Berlinton, who he beheld as the object of the greatest risk she had to encounter*2®

Although this passage gives Edgar's ideas about Camilla's be­ havior, it is apparent that it represents a summary of his think­ ing over a period of time, rather than a description of his think­ ing at any specific time* Furthermore the authorial presence mani­ fests itself in the way the passage begins with the generalized statement of Edgar's thinking, then shifts to a generalization about the keenness of vision of young people in love, and concludes with the reference to the Sensibilist, Mrs* Berlinton, described

2°0amllla. Ill, 385-86 223

In one of the longer methaphorical passages in the novel* Un­

doubtedly this practice of producing the inner thoughts by summary

is effective if used only occasionally— a full rendering would be tedious— but when it is always used* it makes it inevitable that

the heroine and other romantic characters are seen "from a distance,"

"from the outside," and therefore their situations are devoid of

the vivid rendering which would give them significance for the

reader*

Closely connected with Miss Burney’s inability to render

thought in a way that enables the reader to see the characters

"from the inside" is her failure to Indicate emotions by anything other than a label* Instead of describing physical sensations, she

tends to pile up adjectives or abstract nouns indicating emotional statejor attitudes ("enchanted, affrighted, bewildered," "sensations

the most contrary of pain, pleasure, hope and terror"), to Indicate

the emotion through metaphors or personification ("yet anger and resentment had found no part In the transaction") and to suggest emotions through behavior, often stereotyped behavior ("he retired in palpable confusion," "hands clasped, raised eyes")*

In the same fashion. Miss Burney's tendency to use summary makes it very difficult for her to render scenes; indeed, the reader of the novel has some difficulty in deciding at what point in the first book the exposition of the background history of the characters ceases, and the details of the action that constitute the narrative begin* With this presentation of so much narrative summary in the 22k first book the novel seems to have regressed to its status at the beginning of the eighteenth century and to have adopted once again the inept techniques of Aphra Behn or Mrs. Manley. In the later books of the novel Miss Burney uses dialogue frequently to advance the plot; this practice results in numerous little scenes, i.e., passages in dialogue * Miss Burney is incapable of building for a scene and reserving the use of Beene for the more significant events*

Many of the qualities of Miss Burney's prose style can be seen in the following passage describing a sight-seeing trip made by Camilla and some of her acquaintances. (Jor ease of reference numbers have been inserted at various points in the passage.)

Arrived at Mount Ephrain, they all agreed to alight, and enjoy the view and pure air of the hill, while Mr. Dennel visited the house (1). But, just as Mrs. Arlbery had descended from the phaeton, her horses, taking fright at some object that suddenly struck them, reared up in a manner alarming to the spectators, and still more terrific to Camilla, in whose hands Mrs. Arlbery had left the reins: and the servant, who stood at the horses' heads, received a kick that laid him flat on the ground (2). *0 jump outl Jump out!" cried Miss Dennel, "or else you'll be murdered!" (3) "HoJ Hoi keep your seat and hold the reinsI" cried Mrs. Arlbery, "for heavens sakes, don’t jump outl1* (4) Camilla, mentally giddy, but personally courageous, was sufficient mistress of herself to obey the last injunction, though with infinite labour, difficulty and terror, the horses plunging and flouncing incessantly. (3) "Don't you think she'll be killed?" cried Lord Hewford, dismounting, lest his own horse should also take fright. "Do you think one could help her?" said Sir 'Sheophllus Jarard, steadily holding the bridle of his mare from the same apprehension. Lord O'Lemey was already on foot to afford her assistance, when the horses suddenly turning around, gave to the beholders the dreadful menace of going down the steep declivity of Mount Ephraim at full gallop. (6) Camilla now, appalled, had no longer power to hold the reins, she let them go, with an idea of flinging 225

herself out of the carriage, when Sir Sedley, who had darted like lightning from his phaeton, presented himself at the horses' heads, on the moment of their turning, and, at the risible and Imminent hazard of his life, happily stopt them while she Jumped to the ground. They then, with a fury that presently dashed the phaeton to pieces, plunged down the hill, (7) The fright of Camilla had not robbed her of her senses, and the exertion and humanity of Sir Sedley seemed to re­ store to him the full possession of his own: yet one of his knees was so much hurt that he sunk upon the grass* (8) Penetrated with surprise as well as gratitude, Camilla, notwithstanding her own tremor, was the first to make the most anxious inquiries: secretly, however, sighing to herself: Ah had Edgar thus rescued mel yet struck equally with a sense of obligation and of danger, from the horrible, If not fatal mischief she had escaped, and from the extraordinary hazard and kindness by which she had been saved, she expressed her concern and acknow­ ledgement with a softness that even Sir Sedley could not listen to unmoved*2*-

Sentence (1) is effective narrative summary and an adequate transition connecting the previous section describing the plans for the visit with the present scene, the setting of which is briefly suggested by "the view and pure air of the hill*" Sentence (2) contains several details, presented in a rather run-on fashion, so that it lacks force; the phrase "by some object that suddenly struck them" is a rather peculiar mixture of exactness ("suddenly struck") and vagueness ("some object*") The actual behavior of the horses is not described so it can be visualized by the reader but is presented in an oblique fashion in terms of its effect upon the undefined

"spectators" and Camilla* The detail about the reins would probably be more effective if presented earlier with the description of Mrs*

Arlbery*s descent from the phaeton* The emphasis in this run-on

2lCamilla, III, 177-180. 226 sentence is then transferred from Camilla’s reaction to the servant* whose fate iB described so flatly as to be almost comics Although sentences (3) and (k) may be used to arouse anxiety and excitement within the reader by indicating the reaction of the spectators* they are so carefully in character that they serve to picture the speakers rather than to contribute to the overall scene; the reader's thoughts are focused on the giddiness of Miss Dennel and the self- possession of Mrs* Arlbery* Sentence (5) offers us a generalized picture of Camilla's emotions and behavior* The rather puzzling phrase "mentally giddy but personally courageous" seems to be based upon the unnatural antithesis between "mentally" and "personally*"

The zeugmarlike grouping of "labor* difficulty and terror" gives the reader very little to visualize; the first two terms of the triplet are vague* almost synonymous in the situation without the necessary details to bring out the distinction, and these two terms referring to Camilla's physical efforts are not logically coordinate with a term referring to her emotions* Although the next three sentences (6) also can be seen as attempts to arouse the reader's emotions through a description of the comments and reactions of the spectators, and although one gets some view of the scene with the description of the men's effort to control their horses, this section seems designed primarily to characterize the cowardly timidity of the two fops, Lord Newford and Sir Theophilus Jarard* and to contrast it with the more considerate bravery of Lord O'Lemey.

Paragraph (7) is devoted to narration that is weakened by a clich^ (“darted like lightning"), by generalized verbs ("presented him­ self at the horses' heads")» and by phrases and words which Judge the action rather than describe it ("at the visible and imminent danger of his life*" "happily")• In the last sentence of the paragraph Miss Burney shows her fondness for inverted word order by awkwardly introducing a lengthy adverbial phrase between the subject and the verb* Since in this instance a narrative sequence is being related, the inversion seems particularly awkward because it distorts the chronology of events* The first clause of sentence

(8) describes Camilla's reaction, but instead of a description of her sensations, we have the reaction expressed weakly in a familiar personification of emotions ("fright had not robbed her of her senses"); Sir Sedley's action In saving her life is described in lofty, abstract terms ("exertion and humanity")* Shis sentence also shows Miss Burney's fondness for parallelism; the structure of the clause describing Camilla's reaction roughly parallels the structure of the clause describing Sir Sedley's in order to bring out the contrast in thought, which is contained primarily in the verbs

("had not robbed," "seemed to restore")* The last paragraph again shows the familiar eighteenth-century method of indicating emotions by weak personifications or metaphors ("Penetrated with surprise* as well as gratitude")* The sentence is designed to indicate the concern of the heroine, but instead of a specific question, we hear only of her making "anxious inquiries*" Her wish to have been rescued by Bdgar is rather credible, one of the trivial or unrelated ideas that may occur to an individual in a time of stress* Yet one 228 can object to the sentimental emphasis given to the expression of the wish ("sighing to herself: Ahl had Edgar thus rescued mel")*

In the last sentence Camilla's statements of gratitude and her way of expressing them are described in general terms ("expressed her concern and acknowledgements with a softness")* The last sentence reveals a lengthy rhetorical structure, perhaps created to convey the feeling of conclusion to the action: it contains a complex set of phrases ("yet struck equally with a sense of obligation and of danger") leading into a pair of prepositional phrases each modified by adjective clauses ("from the horrible, if not fatal mischief she had escaped," and "from the extraordinary hazard and kindness by which she had been saved")• This brief analysis of the prose style shows how strongly Miss Burney relies upon dialogue to create a sense of scene; without dialogue her prose tends to be too abstract and general to create a satisfactory visual impression*

In this particular scene her presentation of the situation suffers from a lack of concentration in purpose: the attempt to describe

Camilla's danger is sacrificed to Miss Burney's desire to satirize the other characters* Generalized statements are used to describe actions and feelings so that the scene lacks intensity; in this passage one can see Miss Burney's tendency to describe emotional states by means of abstract nouns used metaphorically. Less notice­ able here than elsewhere in the novel is the tendency to dwell upon sentimental effects through a selection of pathetic details*

The handling of this episode also offers considerable insight into Miss Burney's purpose; her brief and casual treatment of an episode in which the heroine runs the risk of losing her life reminds the reader once again, that although Miss Burney has succumbed to presenting strongly emotional scenes, she is not after the melodramatic effects of the big "bow-wow" writers; she is still the writer of tea-table romances, trying to make the conventional and ordinary, significant and meaningful. The action of this episode is quickly passed over. Judging by the attention Miss

Burney gives it, its primary purpose is to establish quickly a mutual regard between Camilla and Sir Sedley and a sense of obli­ gation in the former that allows their friendship to become more

Intimate than it otherwise might become. In brief, the event becomes merely the introductory step in the creation of a new obstacle between Camilla and Edgar.

This analysis of plot and technique has suggested much about the chief "characterizing qualities" of the novel; it is obvious that the richness of the background, the diversity of character, the sharpness of the satire are obliterated by the lengthy romantic plot in which details of character and action are constantly being manipulated to produce sentimental effects. In a sense this novel combines two modes of fiction: to the earlier method of organization by which details were combined to form novels of manners, Miss

Burney lias added another method of organization, which originates in a didactic intention and results in a selection of details conducive to sentimentality. This sentimental mode of fiction is not only objectionable in itself, but incongruous with the anti- 230 sensibility theme of the novel, which will be considered later in this chap ter *22 The excerpts which have been quoted from the novel suggest the way in which dialogue and diction contribute greatly to the sentimentality. One of the worst features of the dialogue is the emotion-laden, rhetorical question: e.g.. Awakening to find her mother beside her, Camilla says in a voice hardly audible, "Have I a mother who again will own the blast of her hopes and happiness?" In describing the innumerable emotional scenes, the diction 1b generally hyperbolic, sometimes ridiculously meta­ phorical; e.g., frequently Camilla is found with "her eyes gushing tears"; or "the big drops rolled fast down her checks"; or "icicles dissolved and trickled down her face"; the thought of pleasing her parents "thrilled through every vein with pleasure"; handkerchiefs are"bathed in tears"; when Camilla is seen by Edgar with Sir Sedley kissing her hand, "her horror was uncontrollable"; Camilla "glued her mother's hand to her lips"; Eugenia's "pillow was nightly wetted" with tears; when Camilla talks with her father, "her tears

In torrents bathed his bosom"; her face Is described as "varying

^Because of the attention given to the predominating influ­ ence of the romantic plot, this analysis has not been able to do Justice to the wit and satire in the book, but Miss Burney does create some neatly etched satirical effects, a,s in his brief but effective paragraph of background: "Mr. Dennel took up the Daily Advertiser, his daughter stationed herself at the door to see the walkers upon the Pantiles: Sir Theophilus Jarard, under colour of looking at a popular pamphlet, was indulging in a nap in a corner; Lord Bewford, noticing nothing, except his own figure as he past a mlrrour, was shuffling loud about the floor, which was not embellished by the scraping of his boots; and Sir Sedley Clarendel, lounging upon a chair in the middle of the shop, sat eating bon bone." Camilla. Ill, 171. 231

color twenty times a minute11; when she is shown a letter from her

father, she "kissed in weeping the handwriting" until the "char­

acters were almost effaced by her tears"; when Edgar meets Camilla

to discuss Sir Sedley, he appears "with quick, but almost tottering

steps, his eyes wildly avoiding hers, and his comptoxion pale even

to indisposition"; Camilla suspects that Eugenia has been kidnapped

and "tottering down to the parlor, with a voice hollow from affright,

and a face pale as death, she tremulously articulated, "Where is my sister?" This listing of samples gives only a slightly exag­

gerated idea of the sentimentality*

What about the "meaningfulness" of this sentimental novel?

At the beginning of Camilla in a Dedication to the Queen, Miss

Burney expresses her desire "to speed the progress of morality";

therefore, the novel contains sentences, even paragraphs, of moralizing about inner beauty, external beauty, the superior force of goodness, the value of being good-natured, the power of a title, benevolence, fortitude in calamity, good manners, and so forth*

In some instances these passages are offered directly by the author; in dther instances they are given some weak dramatic value by being written or spoken by one of the characters (Mr* Tyrold's

"sermons"; Sir Hugh's "death-bed" speech)* These didactic passages are not profound enough to have much power. However, Miss Burney may have succeeded in being "didactic" in ways she did not intend, for if we consider the larger structures of the novel, there are some rewarding insights into the social and intellectual forces of the eighteenth century* Like the earlier novels of Miss Burney,

Camilla dramatises the uncomfortable position of a woman in the marriage market: the reader observes Camilla surrounded by and receiving proposals from men for whom she has no regard, while the social code dictates that she not go beyond certain decorous points in revealing her affection for the man she prefers* The novel dramatizes the relationships among money, manners and class:

Mr* Dobster’s accumulation of money qualifies him to be regarded as a gentleman, but his manners are totally inadequate, as he is constantly being reminded by Mrs. Mittin, who with a superficial grasp of the social forms manages to live on the fringe of the upper middle class, even without money* The overwhelming concern with money is shown by the constant preoccupations of Mr* Dubster,

Mrs* Mittln and Mr. Dennel; by the desire of Major Cerwood and

Bellamy for a Wealthy marriage; by the impact of financial problems upon Camilla, her parents. Sir Hugh, Lionel, Mrs* Arlbery, Clermont

— even Mrs* Berlinton and Melmond with their romantic natures are strongly influenced by money in their consideration of marriage*

Like Evelina. C a m i l l a is concerned with violations of the social code; it reveals the conflict between the individual and convention* As E v e l i n a , reveals the consequence of an ignorance of the forms, Camilla shows the consequence of an Impetuous disregard of them; both novels attempt to show that manners are functional*

Again by "manners" I do not mean merely the correct form of behavior at a dinner or a dance (although here too there is undoubtedly a functional basis for the forms); by "manners" I mean a sense of 233 propriety in situations dealing with somewhat more personal relations, a scrupulous regard for the implication of one's behavior lest it be misinterpreted by others to their disadvantage or to one's own disadvantage. In this sense it is obvious that “manners" are

something that can only be suggested by rules in a book of etiquette, for "manners" thus defined require a considerable knowledge of human nature as well as sufficient experience to estimate the possible outcome of one's behavior. In this sense it

is almost inevitable that youth lacks a sense of manners. It is

to Miss Burney's credit that she does not expect the youths of this novel to possess it, nor does she produce any miraculous acquisition of this quality in her heroine, even though she under­ scores the dangers of its absence. Her acceptance of youth's qualities is suggested near the end of the novel.

"/Youth/ is the epoch of extremes; and moderation, by which alone we learn the true uses of our blessings, is a wisdom we are frequently only taught to appreciate when redundance no longer requires its pr@,ctice."23

One of the chief values ("insights") offered by the novel lie8 in its emphasis upon the value of this type of awareness. She novel does not merely state that some type of error will bring about some sort of punishment; the insight lies in the constant selection of a particular type of mistake: errors of behavior which are capable of being mi sunder stood by other people— not the more

"dramatic" type of error representing a gross violation of laws or religious doctrine that might be punished by legal or "divine"

23camilla. 7, 4 96 . 23^ retribution, but violations of a code of propriety which is fully sensed only by the scrupulous and the experienced. Camilla possesses only the scrupulous eye to detect violations in this code and the integrity to try to live by it; she laeks the character and experience that will enable her to foresee consequences--hence her tearful dilemmas. When she has thoughtlessly allowed Sir Sedley to misread the situation between them, she debates with Eugenia and Lavinia as to whether she should not marry him since they "saw no avenue to an honourable retreat, and thought . . . she could now only free her­ self by the breach of what should be dearer to her even than hap­ piness, her probity and honor." Undoubtedly, because of Miss Burney's artistic ineptitude, her constant attempts to introduce personal integrity into the realms of social propriety seem frequently to amount to much ado about nothing. But it is to Miss Burney's credit that she is attempting to bring terms like "probity and honor" to the ordinary details of life and to show that this scrupulous regard for "unambiguous" social relationships is essential for happiness. It is to her discredit that the causality she attempts to $how is victimized by her plot so that happiness seems dependent more upon the whims of fortune than upon probity and honor, and also to her discredit that she was unable to make the ordinary significant, without treating it sentimentally.

lEhere are two other aspects of the novel that should be mentioned: the concern with sensibility and the parental deification.

Sensibility is an ambivalent term in the novel; in some contexts it 235

Is commendable: In a particular praiseworthy circumstance Edgar is described as having a face "full of sensibility"; in another instance, however* Camilla is warned by her mother to conquer her

"impetuous sensibility*" The reason for the ambivalence is suggested by Hiss Burney's description of Camilla*

Her every propensity was pure and, when reflection came to her aid, her conduct was as exemplary as her wishes* But the ardour of her imagination, acted upon by every passing idea* shook her Judgment from its yet unsteday seat, and left her at the mercy of wayward Sensibility-— that delicate, but irregular power, which now impels to all that is most disinter­ ested for others* now forgets all mankind, to watch the pulsations of its own fancies*^

In this definition one sees the basis of Miss Burney's approval

("impels to all that is most disinterested for others") and also for her disapproval ("now forgets all mankind, to watch the pulsations of Its own fancies")* Although Miss Burney may be concerned with the dangers of Sensibility for society, she attempts to show the dangers of its egotistical preoccupation upon the individual* With Mrs* Berlinton, a more extreme advocate of Sensi­ bility, Miss Burney suggests more fully the source and the con­ sequences of this attractice but dangerous attribute*

She possessed all that was most softly attractive, most bewitchlngly beautiful, and most irresistably captivating, in mind, person and manners* But to all that was thus most fascinating to others, she Joined unhappily all that was most dangerous for herself; an heart the most susceptible, sentiments the most romantic, and an imagination the most exalted* She had been an orphan from earliest years, and left with an only brother, to the care of a fanatifal maiden

^Camilla. IV, 399* 236

aunt, who had taught her nothing hut her faith and her prayers, without one single lesson upon good works or the smallest Instruction upon the practical use of her theoretical piety* All that ever varied these studies were some common and ill selected novels and romances • • • and the works of the Poets * . . . Whatever was most beautifully picturesque in poetry, she saw verified in the charming landscapes presented to her view in the part of Wales she inhabited; whatever was most noble or tender in romance, she felt promptly in her heart, and conceived to be general; and whatever was enthusiastic in theology, formed the whole of her idea and her belief with respect to religion.2^

The danger of this Sensibility for Mrs* Berlinton is shown by the trend of her behavior: a general disregard for propriety, a quest for greater stimulation which leads her to a dangerous coquetsy* to gambling and finally to an (implied) illicit relationship with

Bellamy* The clearest manifestation of the dangers of Sensibility for Camilla is shown during her illness, when in despair at losing her parents and Edgar, she wishes for death. It is only with the sight of Bellamy's corpse that the selfishness of her behavior becomes apparent to her*

Conscience now suddenly took the reins from the hands of imagination, and a mist was cleared away that hitherto, obscuring every duty by despondence, had hidden from her own perceptions the faulty basis of her desire* Conscience took the reins— and a mist was cleared away that had concealed from her view the cruelty of this egotism*^®

Conscience reminds her of her selfish indifference to others in her wish for death and her wilful self-neglect. The consequences of

^Camilla. Ill, 388-89.

^Camilla. Y, her self-indulgence in succumbing to her emotion of despair are emphasized in the vision she has while ill* In this vision* which has a carude power* she is condemned by God for wishing her own death. The antidote to Sensibility is also suggested by the vision, for she is commanded to write her claims, or merits to mercy (good works) in the Records of Eternity, but finds "her pen made no mark." Sensibility is dangerous, then, not only to the norms of society, but also to orthodox Christianity; this suggestion is borne out by the pattern of material dealing with Mr. Tyrold, who shows himself a "true Christian, enduring with humility misfortune," and urges a patient resignation to "those calamities of which the purpose is hidden." He counsels Camilla that self-denial "is the parent of our best actions" and warns her "that the current sorrows, however acute, of current life, are but uselessly aggravated by vain wishes of death. The smallest kind office better proves affection than any words, however elevated."

Since Mr. Tyrold is the embodiment in the novel of the orthodox Christian virtues, it is easy to understand why Miss Surney should show her approval of him by making him the recipient of the affection and esteem of other characters in the book. Actually the regard that Camilla has for her father (and her mother) sur­ passes by far a regard for his God-like qualities; he receives from her the veneration accorded to a God. This deification of a parent has been noted in Evelina, in which the only excessively sentimental scenes in the novel are those describing the first meetings of

Evelina and her father, who did not merit the veneration of Evelina. Clearly the regard is for the role» not the person. As in Evelina, the parent-child relationship is conducive to scenes of extreme sentimentality. Although Camilla is distressed at having forfeited the love of Edgar, it is not until she believes that her parents have abandoned her that she wishes for death; in her vision she stands self-accused before the Records of Eternity for these two crimes; "Those who gave me birth, I have deserted* my life, my vital powers I have renounced." The most sentimental scenes are those describing her alienation from and reconciliation with her parents. Her reconciliation with Edgar is conducted in the presence of her parents with Edgar*s most impassioned speeches directed to Mrs. Tyrold ("My mother, in every meaning which affection and reverence can give to that revered appelation As this passage indicates. Miss Burney's vocabulary encourages one to see the parent-child relationship in divine-human terms: Their

"revered countenances" emit "a benediction that was balm to every woe"; when they will not see her, she describes herself as an

"excommunicated wretch"; she laments because her "Father forbears to demand me; and he-#dearer to me than life!— by whom X was once chosen, has forgotten mel" Camilla differentiates between her parents in conferring characteristics of the Godhead upon them: her mother is stern and wrathful; she delivers "maledictions";

Camilla's terror has prophesied that she would receive her mother's

"darting unrelenting ire," so she fears the joy and terror of meeting her eye. Mr. Tyrold is inevitably described as suffering patiently, as benigh and forgiving. ("My Father I knew would 239 pardon me, for the chief suffering vas his own; but even he, I never expected could look at me thus benignly againl")

The novel's deification of Parent can be regarded as an expression of Hiss Burney's own attitude for her father: the

Dedication to Evelina and her Diaries indicate that she herself had the strongest regard for her father. However, the "filial obligation" theme is so common in the novels of the time that one must look elsewhere for a more comprehensive explanation. A possible solution is suggested by Camilla's situation in the novel and by Miss Burney's problems in writing the novel. Camilla's position in the marriage market demands that she curtail her fond­ ness and displays of affection for Edgar until his preference for her has been declared; one also conjectures that even after marriage, overt private or public indications of affection would be regarded as indecorous: expression cf sentiment, not affection, was the social norm. Therefore, the displays of affection are directed into socially legitimate channels— toward the Family, in particular the

Parents. This same concept of the feminine role that governs

Camilla's behavior applies to the problems of literary composition.

Miss Burney's treatment of the relationship between Camilla and

Edgar must be extremely reserved. If treated with any emotional emphasis at all, it must be sentimental in that the heroine can be shown weeping for unrequited love, but she cannot be shown making any positive actions or statements, or Miss Burney will be vulnerable to charges ranging from indelicacy to immorality. The only relationship in which she can giro her heroine fall emotional expression is the familial one. It seems inevitable, then, that the surplus of emotion brought to this relationship would culminate in the parental veneration displayed in this novel. Chapter V

The Wanderer

At the beginning of The Wanderer (1814), M s s Burney has written a twenty-two page Dedication to her father, which contains, in addition to statements of affection for him, a discussion of two matters of particular interest* the political or ideological material in the book and M s s Burney's ideas about the novel as a form of literature. She states that, although The Wanderer con­ tains political material about the French Revolution, it is, like her earlier novels, "a composition upon general life, manners and character.,, Because of her own personal experiences, because of her artistic indifference to or ineptneas with political subjects, and even more Important, because of her marriage to a

Frenchman, she intends to present the political material impar­ tially, not as a "matter of speculation" but as a "matter of fact."^-

However, the reader of this Dedication wonders hoi/ successfully this impartiality will be maintained, for it is in the following words that Miss Burney explains her reasons for choosing to write

^ In the Dedication, Miss Burney describes the history of the novel's composition. It was started late in the 1790's; she took it abroad with her in 1802; working at odd intervals, she sketched the whole work during her ten-year stay In France. She was partic­ ularly impressed by the "honour and liberality" of the custom houses in both countries in permitting the work to pass without examination upon her stating that the work contained no political material. 24-1 2kZ

about the period of Robespierre rather than the reign of Napoleon.

I have chosen, with respect to what, in these volumes has any reference to the FBench Revolution, a period which, completely past, can excite no rival sentiments, nor awaken any party spirit; yet of which the stupendous iniquity and cruelty, though already historical, have left traces that handed down, even but traditionally, will be sought with curiosity, though reverted to with horrour, from genera­ tion to generation.^

The use of words such as "stupendous iniquity and cruelty" to de­

scribe the reign of Robespierre does not suggest an attitude

guaranteed to pacify "rival sentiments"; furthermore, it seems

naive of M s s Burney to assume that the momentous events of twenty

years earlier would have only a "historical" interest for her

readers, particularly when there had been a more or less constant

state of warfare between Prance and England since that period.

Although M s s Burney may profess a desire to be impartial, the

Dedication suggests and the novel displays a gross patriotic bias.

The Dedication also contains Miss Burney's most extensive

comments upon the novel as an art form. Once again these statements

clearly show the novelist on the defensive, trying to refute claims

that the novel is insignificant, "a mere vehicle for frivolous or

seductive amusement." In her defense, Miss Burney offers a rather

conventional description of its qualities. The novel gives

"a picture of supposed, but natural and probable human existence."

Its power lies in its ability to interest the affections, presumably

^ [Frances Burneyl , The Wanderer, or, Female Difficulties (London, 1814), I, xiii-xiv. 2^3

"through the many much loved agenta of sensibility that

. . . QurouseJ conjugal, maternal, fraternal, friendly and

• . • filial feelings." Miss Burney dwells longest on the

use or value of the novel? perhaps this is inevitable since she

is defending the genre. She expresses her belief in the didactic

power of the novel, but she appears to comprehend a rather limited

type of didacticism? although mentioning the novel's power to

develop the reader's imagination, she dwells upon the way it offers

"opportunities for conveying useful precepts," and the way "it

points out the path of honour; and gives to juvenile credulity

knowledge of the world without ruin, without repentence; and the

lessons of experience without its tears." Fiction, the sugar-

coated pill, may allure people "into reading the severest truths, who would not even open any work of a graver denomination." She

argues that fictional forms have been "permitted and cultivated not alone by the moral, but by the pious instructor," and they

should not be condemned for making enjoyable "the path of propriety."

About the technique of fiction, Miss Burney says nothing other than to list the qualities which give the epic its superiority, qualities which one infers are shared by the best novels:

'Tis the grandeur, yet singleness of the plan? the never broken, yet never obvious adherence to its execu­ tion, the delineation and support of character; the invention of incident; the contrast of situation; the grace of diction, and the beauty of imagery; joined to a judicious choice of combinations, and a living interest in every partial detail, that give to that 2M-

sovereign species of the works of fiction, its glorious preeminence*'

This praise for the epic is reflected in certain qualities in this novel. As for the statements about the didactive power of the

novel, Miss Burney unfortunately means them too; unlike many of her

contemporaries, she does not make such statements in an introduction,

only to ignore them in practice in her novels--as she ignores her

ovm professions of impartiality in national or ideological matters.

The novel reveals only too clearly her didactic intentions and her

patriotic bias.

The Wanderer contains various elements* a delineation of the manners of various classes of English society; a love story with

an idealized hero and heroine, a study in the effects of liberal

ideas upon feminine character, the presentation of a feminine paragon with an elaborate dramatization of specific traits such as sensibility, delicacy and propriety. However, these elements are held together by the following unifying idea. Hie plot consists of a lengthy

sequence of events beginning with the meeting of Juliet Granville and Albert Harleigh among a group of refugees fleeing imprisonment from France during the rule of Robespierre. Hie subsequent action centers on Juliet Granville, who is penniless and forced to conceal her identity and history. These circumstances involve her in a diversity of experiences with a number of people of different

5 Wanderer, I, xviii. Zk5 classes and types at various locales; these events reveal her

character and establish an attraction between her and Harleigh which she, however, refuses to recognize. Finally when it appears as if, a*permanent separation is imminent and she will be forced to return to France, fortune interferes, and she is established as the daughter of an aristocrat and becomes the_wife of Harleigh. This is obviously a plot of action, rather than a plot of character or thought, since the direction or consequence of the heroine's wanderings is to establish a change in her

situation; M s s Burney refers to her heroine as a "female Robinson

Crusoe", a valid comparison if one allows for the great difference in the type of adventures described and the emotional content and effect of the situations.

In The Wanderer the action is controlled to a large extent by events which have occurred before the book opens— an in medias res beginning which suggests that M s s Burney is attempting to imitate the epic, "that sovereign species of the work of fiction."

Juliet Granville's parents were secretly married, and shortly after

Juliet's birth, her mother died. Her father concealed the first marriage, married again and had two children by his second marriage*

Although planning to recognize Juliet as one of his heirs, he died before performing the act, leaving Juliet as the ward of a French bishop, who does, however, possess legal documents verifying Juliet's identity and her claim to a sizeable inheritance. The bishop and Zk6 the papers fall into the hands of a French commissary who, by threatening to guillotine the Bishop, forces Juliet to marry him, in order to obtain her inheritance. After the Bishop is released,

Juliet manages to escape before the marriage is consummated. Since the Bishop's whereabouts is unknown, she must remain incognito because she believes that if the Bishop is apprehended, the comr- missary may preserve him as long as there is some chance of re­ capturing Juliet. This action occurs before the book opens, and is not completely revealed to the reader until the Ninth Book.

The problems of the child by a secret marriage are, of course, familiar material for the novelist* Miss Burney had already used the situation in Evelina-— but in an entirely different way. In

Evelina the reader is informed of the heroine's situation and the only nystery concerns the way in which Sir John has been deceived, once it becomes apparent that he sincerely believes that Evelina is an impostorj the problem of her parentage is ignored throughout much of the novel. In The Wanderer, the cause for Juliet's situa*- tion is concealed from the reader, and the reader is constantly being reminded that he is ignorant of certain facts* the disparity between the heroine's character and behavior and her status is constantly stressed; she is constantly interrogated about her past, and the majority of her problems arise from her determination to conceal her past. In her handling of this situation in The Wanderer

Miss Burney attempts to provoke and sustain the reader's curiosity. She also attempts to arouse his admiration, indignation, pity, anxiety and fear. In the earlier portion of the novel the heroine is snubbed, mo deed, ridiculed, maligned and accosted in innumerable scenes designed to arouse admiration for her courage, pity for her in her predicament, and indignation at her tormentors.

The latter part of the book, which takes on the nature of a chase, is designed to arouse the reader's anxiety and fear for her well­ being when her situation and the nature of her pursuer are known.

However, even in this section of the book, which presents rather violent physical action, the treatment is essentially sentimental* the events become opportunities for sentimental!zation as well as action. And once again it is this tendency that most weakens the novel.

How I should like to comment in greater detail on the novel, showing the way in which the details confirm these generalizations about the plot and the way in which the presentation of character and action is designed to arouse the reader's emotions* Book I of the novel constitutes a "beginning" in that it establishes the situation and character of the heroine, without, however, supplying the reader with her background. Her plea for passage with the refugees is granted only because Harleigh pities her; his guarantee to the other passengers that he will be responsible for her behavior insures his interest in her until this interest is replaced by a more affectionate concern for her welfare. The unsavory appearance of Juliet, provided by her disguise, and her determined silence about her identity and past place her in a questionable light with the other passengers; the inconsiderate snobbery which the other paasengers display is typical of the treatment Juliet is to receive throughout the remainder of the novel. (The heroine is referred to by various names in the course of the book* stranger, wanderer,

Ellis, Juliet.) The irregularity of her position is prolonged by the loss of her purse, a loss which necessitates her appealing to and staying with the other refugees during a period in which her character is established. Fortune cooperates in keeping her in the compaiy of Harleigh, since the home of the Joddrel's is near Juliet's destination at Brighton at which she is to meet her friend G-abriella and to receive mall,. After a few days 3he is forced to discard her disguise, and her physical attractions become apparent. As a charity case of Elinor's, she hovers about the edge of wealthy upper middle-class society, unaccepted because of her unknown social status but tolerated because of her talents, her ability to sing, sew, draw, play the harp and piano— a veritable paragon of the drawing-room.

Harleigh's curiosity and admiration are attracted by her appearance, talents, dignity, delicacy, sensibility, her scrupulous regard for her position, her refusals of any assistance that might be question­ ably interpreted and her forbearing but firm resistance to the probings of the snobbish Miss Maple, the crotchety Riley and the sarcastic Mrs. Ireton. The talents of Juliet are revealed beyond Zks this small group when, through a series of accidents, she is called upon to play the lead in Elinor's amateur production of Hie Provoked

Husband. Hie attendance of Lady Aurora Granville and Lord Melbury

(Juliet's sister and brother) at the performance establishes a friendship between them, a relationship based upon a regard for character, for she does not reveal her identity to them.

Juliet's character is now established for the reader and the reader is convinced that her position with the "good" characters is firmly fixed. Even the disclosure of the suspicious circumr- stances surrounding her introduction to the refugees does not alienate Lady Aurora, although it does mislead Lord Melbury, who is provoked by Ireton into attempting to seduce Juliet— in retrospect this action takes on additional "horror" for the reader as he sees it is incestuous as well as illicit. However Juliet's behavior convinces Lord Melbury of her virtue and aharacter, and it becomes clear that she has a friendship with her brother and sister that will not be shaken, although the officiousness of Mrs. Hbwel and the vigilance of Lord Denmeath may make it difficult or impossible for Lady Aurora and Lord Melbury to aid Juliet until her status is clarified.

In this same fashion, the reader realizes that Harleigh has developed an unshake able affection for Juliet, which is likely to remain unexpressed until she reveals, by disclosing her background, an attitude which encourages a declaration from him. However, 250

Elinor's melodramatic plan, motivated by jealousy, of using Juliet as an emissary to declare her (Elinor's) love for Harieigh, forces a declaration from him, but Juliet is immediately forced to re­ nounce him to halt Elinor's subsequent attempt at suicide.

Juliet's relationship with Harieigh is thus at an impasse: she has vowed to Elinor never to accept him, and even should this pledge be revoked with Elinor's consent, the mystery of Juliet's history remains as a barrier— she has received two letters from

Prance warning her that she should expect no aid or information for some time and exhorting her to remain "unnamed and unknown."

With the establishment of the goal and direction of the romantic plot, Miss Burney now turns, during a period of separation between

Juliet and Harieigh, to the development of the non-romantic material, episodes focused about Juliet's attempts to earn a living. It is these endeavors that offer considerable diversity to Miss Burney's

"'composition upon general life, manners and character." For a period (Books III-IV) Juliet gives music lessons: at first fortune seems to favor her, for under the sponsorship of Miss Arbe, she obtains a group of pupils; however, Riley's reappearance makes public her nysterious history, and as a result of her loss in standing she loses her pupils. Riley's reappearance raises the problem of the use of coincidence in the novel; undoubtedly Miss

Burngy is trying to make all the characters and events support the

"singleness of her plan"; she makes repeated use of the original 251 group of refugees; for example, the pilot reappears as a smuggler and as an agent for her husband, the French commissary; the

Admiral turns out to be her uncle and Riley appears to be almost as ubiquitous as Hardy's reddlamaiv— his behavior is even less credible. The majority of Riley's appearances occur, of course, at inopportune times; his arrival to frustrate Juliet's efforts at teaching is only one example of the way that the actions in the novel are dependent upon coincidence.

The general incredibility of these events is made more objectionable because of the fact that they almost always contribute to a sentimental occasion, to the heroine's distress. At this point in the novel the dominant emotional tone is clearly estab­ lished. Although the reader's curiosity iB aroused by the ir­ regularity of Juliet's position, this curiosity is likely to abate before the sentimentality of Miss Burney's treatment of the posi­ tion of the heroine. Her paragon-liIce character, the discernment of Harieigh, the sensibility of Lady Aurora and Lord Melbury, the unattractive qualities of her antagonists, the all too obvious indications of authorial approval for the heroine, and the attitude toward "life" of the author indicated in the interspersed didactic comments make it d e a r that the novel is heading toward a "happy ending," although various obstacles may be interposed.

When the reader discerns that the obstacles are being manipulated by the author to provoke sentimentality, he finds it difficult 252

to accept any of Juliet’s situations as "serious". The reader

cannot sustain his indignation as Juliet endures a series of

incidents contrived to expose her to the snobbery, malice, and

curiosity of the wealthy, to the vulgar improprieties of the lower

classes and the frequent assaults of the licentious. By the end

of Book I the pattern is apparent, but by Book III it is

monotonously obvious, particularly when M s s Burney crudely stages

scenes, such as Juliet’s visit to church, to arouse pity for her

heroine and indignation at her "persecutors." This scene occurs

shortly after Biley's arrival at Brighton has resulted in the

public disclosure of Juliet’s nysterious background with her

consequent loss of status in the community. On the following

Sunday Juliet exits from church to find it raining; unprovided

with an umbrella, she stands inside the church near the door while

the congregation files out, and she receives indignities from

practically the entire cast of characters. In this instance;

the emphasis upon Juliet's reactions ("mortifications," "shocked,11

"vexed," "displeased?) is partially balanced by the comedy of

the lower class characters

This scene at the church also displays M s s Burney's tendency to force characters to behave in an illogical or incredible manner for emotional purposes. In this instance, if the reader is to expect that the situation is as painful to Juliet as Miss Burney wishes us to believe, it ia difficult to see why Juliet does not venture into the rain, even though she might "have been wet through in a minute." The same tendency is seen when Juliet is urged to give a public concert to establish herself as a professional musician; although this will enable her to pay her bills, she refuses because of her distaste for such a public performance. Kien Giles Arbe con­ vinces her that she must pay her bills, so she uses some of the money that she has been given by Harieigh. Jfow overcome with the impropriety of accepting money from an eligible male, she decides to give the public concert to earn money to repay Harieigh. Miss

Burney's attempts to keep her heroine moving from one distressing situation to another force the reader to see Juliet either as unbelievably inconsistent or incredibly lacking in foresight.

The prevailing tone of sentimentality is occasionally re­ lieved by the comedy provided by lower class characters (tradesmen, farmers and so forth whose "humors" are constantly revealed by the types of questions they ask Juliet about conditions in France), by the outspoken, absent-minded Giles Arbe, by Sir Jaspar Herrington with his whimsical creation of a world of imps, elves, sprites and sylphs, and by the sarcastic ingenuity of Mrs. Ireton. The sen- timental tone is also varied with elements of pure melodrama in which Miss Burney attempts to evoke surprise, horror, and fear.

In the earlier Books, Elinor's attempts at suicide are used for this purpose. Her second attempt, which acts as a climax to the 254

Fourth Book, is staged by Miss Burney for sensational effects.

Although Elinor is supposedly living on the Continent, on the

night of Juliet's concert she returns to Brighton disguised in

male attire. Juliet becomes aware of the ominous figure in

the audience, and suddenly noticing that the figure is masked

and carrying a dagger, she realizes that is is Elinor and faints

as she begins her performancei Harieigh, "springing from his

place" succeeds in reviving Juliet,

But the instant that he had raised her, what was his consternation and horror, to hear a voice, from the assembly call out* "Turn, Harieigh, turn.' and see thy willing martyr!— Behold, perfidious Ellis! Behold tby victim!" The large wrapping coat, the half mask, the slouched hat, and embroidered waistcoat, load rapidly been thrown aside, and Elinor appeared in deep mourning; her long hair, wholly unornamented, hanging loosely down her shoulders. Her complexion was wan, her eyes were fierce rather than bright, and her air was wild and menacing. "Oh Harieigh— adored Harieigh!— " she cried, as he flew to catch her desperate hand,— but he was not in time, for in uttering his name, she plunged the dagger into her breast. The blood gushed out in torrents, while, with a smile of triumph and eyes of idolizing love, she dropt into his arms, and clinging round him, feebly articulated "Here let me end!— accept the oblation— the just tribute— of these dear, delicious, last moments! "4

Scenes such as this clearly indicate that the contretemps of the tea-table romances are being replaced by violent, sensational actions of melodrama.

^ Wanderer, XI, 405-4. 255

In order to protract the progress of the romantic plot,

Miss Burney adopts the expedient of having Elinor determine to commit suicide only in the presence of both Juliet and Harieigh.

To prevent her further attempts at suicide, the lovers separate and attention is focused upon the tribulations of Juliet as she attempts to earn her living. At the same time M s s Burney attempts to sustain the reader’s curiosity about Juliet's identity. Thus

Book V begins with the long awaited meeting between Juliet and her friend Gabriella, a meeting which, occurring at dawn in a graveyard where Gabriella mourns for her dead child, is marked by copious tears as the reunited friends are shaken by "gusts of ungovernable, irrespon­ sible sorrow." Ifceir emotion-laden conversation does not contribute much information about Juliet's predicament* the reader learns only that she is familiar with French nobility. Because of sympathy for

Gabriella, she decides not to divulge to her the precarious position of her uncle, the Bishop. The meeting with Gabriella serves as a device to get Juliet into a new Beries of occupations and difficulties-

The needlework, which she begins with Gabriella, runs her into excessive debts when the latter is forced to return to London.

Her failure to maintain an independent business forces her to become a seamstress in a millinery store where she is annoyed by the vulgarity of her companions and the snobbery of the customers. At times M s s Burney uses the experience of Juliet for obviously didactic digressions. In the earlier books, Juliet's experiences as a music teacher are used as an opportunity for a digression on the difficulties of the profession (based, no doubt, on Miss

Burney's awareness of her father's experiences)} in this book the material is frequently shaped to inform the reader about the life of a seamstress. Juliet learns about the habits of customers, the habits of clerks, the financial hazards of the trade, the qualities of the people who work in shops--even the love life of the working girl is delineated by the affairs of

Flora Pierson and her friends. This material is not presented so that is has dramatic significance, for Juliet is largely a passive observer of the life around her. At one point Miss Burney attempts to give the material greater vitality by having Juliet interfere to protect one of the seamstresses from a seducer (Sir Iyell). Her efforts arouse the hatred of the other girls employed in the shop because they attribute her interference to jealousy, and naturally the seducer is diverted to her and subsequently kidnaps and nearly rapes her. Tbo frequently, however, the material is presented g.s if

M s s Burney were writing a handbook for the unemployed female in which she wishes to generalize about the drawbacks of various occupations.

A new role is tried by Juliet in Book VI: she becomes the companion of Mrs. Ireton and endures a long sequence of indignities* being forced to tend to a spoiled lap-dog; physical abuse and tormenting from a perverse child} insolence from Ireton; and insults and humiliation from the sarcastic, despotic Mrs. Ireton. 257

It ia in this section that Miss Burney’a handling of plot to * prolong the heroine's discomfort becomes most objectionable because of the monotonous repetition in the pattern of events and because of the monotony of tone and the inconsistency in characterization. Since Juliet has already suffered at the hands of Mrs. Ireton, the reader finds it difficult to accept her decision to assume the position of "humble companion"; it is easy to foresee that she will soon repent "the step she had taian."

Convinced that she cannot endure these painful experiences, Juliet requests to be dismissed and prepares to depart, not, however,too happily.

The justice of the sensibility which urged her retreat could not obviate its imprudence, or avert its consequences. She was wholly without friends, without money, without protection, without succour; and the horror of a licentious pursuit, and the mischiefs menaced by culminating ill wishers, still made a lonely residence as unsafe as when her first terrour drove her to acquiesce in the proposition of Elinor £to become M t b . Ireton*s companion]. Yet thoygh she could not exult, she could not repent* how desire, hovr even support a situation so sordid? a situation, not only distressing, but oppressive; - not merely cruel, but degrading 3

However, Mrs. Ireton appears to become less tyranical and Juliet, reasoning carefully, concludes that her position need not be too debasing and decides to stay. Her philosophical acceptance of the situation is short-lived; Mrs. Ireton reverts to her petty

5 Wanderer, III, 257 despotism, and Juliet is soon again grieving under the difficulties of her position, in particular the humiliation of performing menial chores in the presence of visitors and the exhaustion of being constantly called upon to display her musical talents regardless of her own feelings and inclinations. Juliet would be ordered ''to the harp or piano-forte and made to play though she were suffering from the acutest head-achej and sing when hoarse and short-breathed from the most violent cold." After undergoing another public tormenting before a group of visitors, the "distress" of which is somewhat relieved by the ingenuous comments of Giles Arbe to Mrs. Ireton, Juliet resigns again; this time her departure is delayed by Mrs. Ireton!s request that she stay to attend her nephew for a few days. Her duty for the following day consists of taking the child on a trip to Arundel

Oastlej she refuses but offers to take charge of him at home.

But then finding herself the victim of Ireton's insolence, she changes her mind and visits Arundel, which by coincidence is being visited by Sir. Jaspar Herrington, Lady Aurora and Lord

Melbury at the same time. In response to the usual humiliating sarcasms of Mrs. Ireton, she quits again but is again forced to reaccept her position by Mrs. Howel's threats. This monotonous pattern of events (insults, resignations, postponement of depar­ ture) with the emphasis upon the painful consequences for the heroine is completely unsatisfactory; even Mrs. Ireton's witty 259

sarcasms and ingenuity in devising ways to torment Juliet do

little to enliven this book.

In the last four books the humiliations of the drawing-room

are replaced by events of a more sensational nature. A period of

separation between Juliet and Harieigh is terminated by Elinor's

third attempt at suicide--she still persists in attempting to kill

herself with them as an audience. The incredible behavior of

Elinor is matched by the lurid setting and actions in the episode.

The unsigned letter directing Juliet to appear at dawn in the

cemetery, the nysterious, but strangely familiar figure (Harieigh)

that follows Juliet to the graveyard, the discovery of Elinor in

the church standing before a tombstone bearing her name— all these

are extremely crude attempts to excite the reader's curiosity.

Surely for the modern reader this scene degenerates into bathos or

farce vrhen Elinor falls to the ground believing that she is dying,

although Harieigh has succeeded in striking her arm so that she

fires the pistol into the air.

Her own designs, nevertheless, seconded by the loud din of the pistol, so close to her. ear, and let off by her own hand, operated upon her deranged imagination with a belief that her purpose was ful­ filled; and she sunk upon the ground, uttering with a deep groan, "Oh Harieigh.' bless the dying Elinor,— and be happy 1

Elinor does, however, release Juliet from her pledge; she also

6 Wanderer, IV, 42 2 6 0 wishes to consult with Harieigh upon the question of immortality, and it is now apparent that only the mystery of Juliet’s past

stands between Juliet and Harieigh. She, however, rejects his declaration of affection and flees to London to live with Gabriella and run a shop.

One of the most amusing, because inconsistent, bits of behavior occurs in the way that the reader is informed of Juliet's parentage* Sir Jaspar, whom Juliet encounters while walking through the streets of London, is informed of her family history by Gabriella, who mistakenly believes that Sir Jaspar is an intimate of Juliet's— he has just proposed to her. Juliet, who is hiding in the rear of the shop, overhears Gabriella begin to reveal her history, but "unfortunately" Gabriella begins her disclosure by praising Juliet's family.

Juliet, in the first moment, was advancing to atop it* but her heart, yet more than her ear, was so fascinated by the generous eulogy of her virtueud, though lowly mother, from the offspring of a house whose height and natal prejudices might have palliated, upon this subject, the language even of disdain; that she could not prevail with herself to break into what she considered as sacred praise.7

Her acceptance of the disclosure on such a flimsy basis after the distress she has endured to avoid revealing this information is incredible. It is obvious that Miss Burney now feels that it is time to inform the reader of part of Juliet's history* and

7 Wanderer, IV, 192. 261 that such a partial disclosure can best be done through Gabriella since she knows only part of Juliet's problem. This piece of in­ credible plot machinery is equalled by the incredibility of Riley's assiduous labor in helping Surly, the Pilot, who has been com­ missioned by a Frenchman, currently en route to England, to find

Juliet. Riley thus explains his strenuous efforts to help find her*

"• . • I always liked you, Demoiselle; and always had a prodigious mind to know who you were. But the deuce a bit would you tell me • • • • We have had the devil of a job of it to find you . . . .B8

With the introduction of the Pilot, Miss Burney now intro­ duces the chase (Boole VIII), which enables her to explore country life and nature more fully than she has in any of her earlier works.

Juliet moves from cottage to cottage in the vicinity of the New

Forest, being forced to leave each place as she fears the owner will identify her as the person described in a Salisbury newspaper with a reward offered for information about her. lb the overall anxiety of the chase and the reader's curiosity about the reason for the flight is added the apprehensions of minor episodes, such as the episode in which she stays overnight in the home of a poacher whose secret activities (blood upon the floor, body-like objects carried about in sacks) are presented in such a way that she believes herself surrounded by murderers. Even in this book Miss Burney

8 Wanderer, IV, 217-18. 262

indulges in didacticism by presenting two chapters devoted to

generalizations about the problems of the farmer and the laborer.

Coincidence is also remarkably active* Juliet decides to stay at

the home of a woman whose children she has saved from drowning.

The woman1 b husband is involved with the poachers from whom she

had earlier fled and also with some smugglers, of whom one is the

Pilot, who is still looking for her— a not very believable weaving

together of events all designed to support "that singleness of

plan."

Coincidence also dominates Book IX, for as Juliet walks

along a roadside she turns into an inn to avoid encountering- the

Pilot, whom she sees walking ahead of her, but he enters also

and is soon joined by her French persecutor. In avoiding them,

she hurries into one of the rooms of the inn, to find it occupied by Harieigh. As she leaves this room, she is apprehended by her

pursuer (the personification of French Jacobism)*

[A] man dressed with disgusting negligence, and of an hideous countenance, yet wearing an air of ferocious authority; advancing by large strides, roughly seized her arm, with one hand, while, with the other, he rudely lifted her bonnet to examine her face.9

T h is "villain" declares himself Juliet’s husband and to Harleigh’s

(and presumably t he reader’s) horror is about to carry her off in a carriage when the cavalry arrives in the form of a peace officer

9 Wanderer, V, 263

"who had advanced full gallop”, to seize him for deportation, at

the instigation of Sir Jaspar. When Sir Jaspar arrives, Juliet

leaves with him and then reveals to him and the reader the details

of her marriage.

Although the situation is not resolved, it becomes obvious

that events are moving toward a final climax. Sir Jaspar is now

completely informed of her situation, and his former efforts in

her behalf (with Mrs. Maton, with the peace officer) lead the

reader to believe that he will assist her now— he subsequently

informs Lady Aurora and Harieigh of her true position. Before

Miss Burney can bring off a final climax, it is necessary to mark

time, so we have a purely superfluous visit to Stonehenge and the

castle of the Earl of Pembroke and a series of new distresses for

the heroine. After losing her puree, she becomes dependent upon

Sir Jaspar, who seems to vacillate between a desire to marry Juliet

and a desire to have her as a mistress.

In Book X, a letter from Gabriella gets her to the seacoast

at !Deignmouth, which, once again by coincidence, is also being visited by Lady Aurora and Mrs. Howel• When the latter accuses

Juliet of stealing, Juliet succeeds in refuting the chargej it becomes clear that fortune is now beginning to assist her. Her triumph is achieved with the help of the Admiral, who, coincidentally, reappears on the scene, becomes interested in her affairs and then reveals his identity and his convenient fifth-act set of papers to 26*t verify her family position and inheritance. Lady Aurora's dis­ covery that Juliet is her sister is made just before the appearance of Ambrose to inform her that the Bishop is being held as hostage and that she must return to Prance— an occasion for a tearful separa­ tion between the recently united sisters. Especially emotional and unreal are Juliet’s rejections of Harieigh's proposal, seconded by

Lord Melbury, that he (Harieigh) return to Prance for her and ransom the Bishop. But a deus ex machina appears not from the sky but from across the sea, for as she is about to set out, a ship arrives on the beach carrying refugees, who reveal that the Commissary him­

self has been guillotined, and among the refugees is the Bishopi

The final problems are quickly resolved and The Wanderer can no longer deny the claims of Harieigh.

In the last fevr pages Miss Burney describes the felicity of

Juliet, Harieigh and "a rising family in Harieigh Hall" and dis­ penses,with a discriminating sense of poetic justice, the rewards to the cast: "No one to whom Juliet had ever owed axy good office was by her forgotten, or by Harieigh neglected." The "good" char­ acters are welcomed, but Riley, Ireton and Selina are "excluded from the Happy Hall"; the three Furies, Mrs. Hbwel, Mrs. Ireton and Mrs.

Maple are publicly rebuked by the Admiral.

Obviously this analysis of the plot indicates most of the

"characterizing qualities" of the novel. Uhe plot seems to have a fair degree of unity, with the exceptions of the occupational digressions, but the unity is a spurious one* achieved by too great a sacrifice of probability. Furthermore * although the novel has a wide cast of characters and a diversity of events, it is monotonous because of the repetition in the pattern and tone of the events. People and situations become obstacles producing distress; nearly every sur­ prising turn of the plot is one that contributes to a new distress or an additional cause for distress in the present situation. I have spoken of the improbable connection between events, the excessive use of coincidence. Some of the events themselves are equally unbe­ lievable* people are constantly behaving in abnormal ways to keep the plot boiling as is shown by Juliet's consenting to plead with Harieigh for Elinor and her needlessly hasty departures from cottage to cottage in t he chase (in one instance she takes fright and starts out about sunset in order, of course, to get lost after dark in the New Forest).

In general, Miss Burney's management of the omniscient point of view is unsatisfactory. In the first seventy pages she u s o b the objective third-person point of view very effectively and avoids any tedious exposition about the situation and the history of the charac­ ters by allowing the reader to obtain this information inferentially through action and dialogue. However, this objective treatment is gradually altered, and M s s Burney is soon entering into the novel with didactic comments (" 'Tis only what is natural that flows without some stimulus; what is factitious prospers but while freshly supplied with such materials as gave it existence"). And henceforth the novel is regularly interrupted with generalizations about couragef conscience, the inability to pay debts, the charms of music, Nature, and Truth, piety, vanity, experience, sensibility, and so forth* In some instances these comments are merely a sentence long; in other instances, such as the digression on farming, they may be ten pages long, usually these are clearly presented as authorial comments; occasionally Miss Burney tries to connect the didacticism with her characters by using such phrases as

"Juliet now learned that . . *B and "She had here time and opportunity to see the fallacy, alike in authors and in the world, of . . •

M s device of using the characters * thought-processes as an oppor­ tunity for didacticism tends, of course, both to weaken the credibility of the character as a creation and to lessen the dramatic quality of any rendition of thought. Most of the analyses of thought are presented as thought-summary; they afford Miss Burney an opportunity for either a sentimental summary of the heroine's situation during which the heroine will frequently speak her thoughts aloud ("she cried") or an expression of didacticism (Miss Burney refers to her heroine on one occasion as "the silent moralist"). Frequently in the "descriptive" comments about characters or a situation, Miss

Burney takas sides by crudely commenting to praise her heroine and to condemn the "bad." characters; e.g. when Mrs. Maple is attempting to intimidate Juliet, Miss Blarney observes* "violence so inhuman rather inspired than destroyed fortitude in Ellis who quietly 26? answered . . . *n When Juliet hears of Sir Iyell's attempted seduction of a shop girl, Miss Burney writes* “Juliet listened to this history with the deepest indignation against the barbarous libertine, who with egotism so inhuman, soijght to rob, first of innocenoe and next, for it would be the inevitable consequence of all her fair prospectB in. life, a young creature whose simplicity disabled her from seeing her danger* . • *w

Among the more awkward characteristics of Miss Burney's use of point of view is the inconsistency of her technique in revealing the heroine's mind. She frequently reveals the heroine's thoughts about her distressing situations* her great fears, for example, that Harieigh will misinterpret her behavior toward him. But Miss

Burney never indicates that Juliet is fond of Harieigh; the reader can infer that she is by her behavior or by involuntary expressions of emotion, but her thoughts about her affections are never revealed, although at the end of the novel she confesses*

n . . • that at the moment of his first generous declaration, following the summer-house scene with Elinor, she had felt pierced with an aggravated horror of her nameless ties, that had nearly burst her heart asunder *n^

Juliet adds that had she confessed her situation and had Harieigh aided her, his assistance would have been a barrier between them or might have caused them to be the victims of calumny. Possibly

^ Wanderer, v. 268

the same sort of propriety which forbids Juliet’s expressions of

any signs of affection to Harieigh forbids Miss Burney from

analyzing Juliet's inner awareness of the emotion. PerhapB the most unsatisfactory example of the arbitrary selectivity of Miss

Burney's revelation of her heroine's thoughts is found in her treat­ ment of the heroine's pasti the reader is exposed fully to Juliet's

consciousness as she dwells upon her fears of being identified

and apprehended, but her thoughts never disclose the reason for

her concern. This way of preserving the mystery oreates an

amnesia-like quality in the heroine. With the exception of

Harieigh, Juliet is the only individual whose thoughts are explored

to ary extent. And with but one exception, the exploration of

Harieigh's thoughts is brief. This one exception occurs when Juliet

is captured by her husband at the inn» for twenty pages the action

is seen through the eyes of Harieigh, presumably because any dis­

closure of Juliet's thoughts could not do full justice to the sur­

prising statement that her persecutor is her husband. Any disclosure of her thoughts must inevitably reveal the mystery of her situation, which, however, she clarifies for Sir Jaspar immediately after the

arrest of the Frenchman.

The monotonous pattern to the events, the sentimental tone and

the clumsy handling of the point of view contribute greatly to the reader's dissatisfaction with the novel. This dissatisfaction is not lessened by the treatment of the details. As in Evelina, Miss 269

Burney relies upon dialogue to get her story told. She uses dialogue to characterize, occasionally adding dialect and speech mannerisms (the Admiral’s naval jargon, Mr• Tedman's "put in case®

and his "darter®, Margery Fairfield’s dialect and "the La be good

unto me!"); practically all of the humor in the book comes from

the self-incriminating speeches of the type characters. Unfor­

tunately M s s Burney relies too heavily upon dialogue for scenic

effects; as a result of this tendency, the story consists too much

of a series of little episodes, which are given a scenic contemn

poraneoueness by dialogue. She fails to prepare for big scenes and

the big scenes lose emphasis because of the indiscriminate use of

scenes. Hie sixth book seems particularly dull because of this

treatment; two or three scenes elaborated more fully would have

conveyed Juliet's situation to the reader as clearly as (and much

less monotonously than) this sequence of little episodes, dramatized

crudely through dialogue.

Although, as the chapter describing Juliet’s wanderings while

lost in the New Forest indicates, Miss Burney can present narrative with an eye for specific detail, she tends in general to avoid narrating mere physical action. The actions Bhe does narrate are, as usual, those which reflect social improprieties; visual sharpness

is sacrificed for the sake of social judgment* In the few instances in which M s s Burney turns to nature, it is a nature described in­ numerable times before by eighteenth-century poetss one of Juliet's 270 visits to the "verdant recess, between two rocks, overlooking the vast ocean," is thus describedt

She clambered up various rocks, nearly to their summit, to enjoy, in one grand perspective, the stupendous expansion of the ocean, glittering with the brilliant rays of a bright and cloudless sky* dazzled, she descended to their base, to repose her sight upon the soft, yet lively tint of green turf, and the rich yet mild hue of the dowry moss. Almost sinking, now, from the scorching beams of a nearly vertical sun, she looked round for some umbrageous retreat; but, re­ freshed the next moment, by salubrious sea brezzes, by the coolness of the rocks, or by the shades of the trees, she remained stationary, and charmed; a devoutly adoring spectatress of the lovely, yet magnificent scenery en­ circling her; so vast in its glory, so impressive in its details, of wild, varied nature, apparently in its original state

A description of the countryside also contains its share of conven­ tional diction* "the verdure of the adjacent fields or woods," "the freshness of the salubrious breeze," "the flowery dales," "the beautiful prospect from the meadow," "the plumaged race."

Actually, of course, descriptions of Nature or physical setting occupy a very small portion of the book* as usual Miss

Burney’s chief concerns are social behavior and emotions. Both are presented in her usual fashions. In describing social behavior she usually allows the characters to indicate their ignorance of or ii>- difference to the proprieties through vulgar, indelicate speech.

To describe emotions, Miss Burney relies upon innumerable abstract words (Fear, Hope, Terror) and stereotyped descriptions of appearance

11 Wanderer, V. 220-21 271 and behavior (’’heaving bosom,11 "pale face,11 nclasped hands,11

"casting up of eyes"). Frequently these descriptions make use of metaphors and personification ("But fear and incertitude, though they slackened, did not long stop her progress* the terror of her lonely situation pointed out to her ••••")• In all instances, the prose style shows Miss Burney’s fondness for elaborate rhetoric.

Summaries of thought processes, descriptions of Nature, even details of action, the authorial didacticisms, the speeches of Juliet and

Harieigh, all tend to be expressed in sentences showing a great tendency for parallelism, antithesis, balance and alliteration; in emotional situations, characters' thoughts and speeches also frequently contain rhetorical sentences, obsolete forms of pronouns, apostrophes to individuals or classes ("Ah, ye proud, ye rich, ye high").

Since both the heroine and Lady Aurora are devotees of sensi­ bility (of the benevolent, unselfish sort), their emotional reactions are described in extreme terms* when she heard Juliet play the harp,

Lady Aurora Jlwas enchanted, was fascinated* she caught the sweet sounds with the most ecstatic attention, hung on them with the most melting tenderness . . . •" Juliet, whose "soul is delightfully awake to the tender strokes of art", is equally responsive to Lady

Aurora’s kindness.

Pleasure shone lustrous in her fine eyes, every time they met those of Lady Aurora; but if that young lady took her hand, or spoke to her with more than usual softness, tears, which she warmly strove to hide, rolled fast down her cheeks, but which, though 272

momentarily overpowering, were no sooner dispersed, than every feature became reanimated with glowing v i v a c i t y . 12

M s s Burney frequently has her heroine bewail her plight in phrases crudely shaped to provoke the reader's emotions ("How dredfully am

I envolvedi in what misery ...•", "Oh, cruel necessity

"I must fly . . . whither--which way to go, I know not") or plead for sympathy with rhetorioal questions*

*Oan you, then— n cried the penetrated Juliet,— "may I believe in such felicity?— Can you condescend so far as not to disdain, — disclaim— and turn away from so unhappy a relation? So dis­ tressed,— so helpless,— so desolate and object?"15

Miss Blarney also brings in sentimental scenes involving children who use baby talk: Dame Fairfield's children plead with Juliet, the

"dood ady", not to reveal their father's activities as a poacher.

But it is by the copious tears that Miss Burney most fully reveals her alliance with the novelists of sentimentality. On page thirty- seven of Volume I we find the sentence "the stranger wept"; although

Juliet weeps innumerable times thereafter, the description is seldom as restrained as this* we find eyes "that glisten with tears," gushing tears "that trickled fast through her fingers," "eyes over­ flowing," "torrents of tears," "tears now rolled fast," "friendly burst of tears," "bathed in tears," "dimmed eyes," "tears of rapture," people who "weep and embrace, embrace and weep alternately," people with "shoulders, cheeks bathed with fast falling tears," and 00 forth.

IS Wanderer, I, 258.

^ Wanderer, V. 260 273

These qualities were to be found in Camilla; however* in melodrama and bombast The Wanderer surpasses the earlier novel; in particular in the scenes describing Elinor's thrice attempted suicide and Juliet’s capture by the Commissary* Since Elinor's first suicide attempt also contains statements of her "philosophy,n let me quote sections from this episode. The scene, which involves Juliet,

Elinor and Harleigh, takes place in a summer house immediately after

Elinor has learned that Harleigh does not love her; Elinor’s frantic behavior, her writing a codicil to her will and her constant handling of a shagreen case which she carries with her make it clear that she plans suicide. She explains to Harleigh her behavior and the reason for her summons.

"you think me, I know, tarnished by those very revolutionary ideas through which, in ny own estima­ tion, I am ennobled. I owe to them that I dare held nyself intellectually, as well as personally, an equal member of the community; not a poor, degraded, however necessary, appendent to it* I owe to them ny enfranchise­ ment from the mental slavery of subscribing to unexamined opinions, and being governed by prejudices that I despises I owe to them the precious privilege, so shamefully new to mankind, of daring to think for nyself. But for them ■—should I not, at this moment, be pining away ny linger­ ing existence in silent consumption? They have rescued me from that slow poison I" ...... She rose, and clasping her hands with strong, yet tender,emotion exclaimed, "that I should love you— " she stopt. Shame crimsoned her skin. She covered her face with both hands, and sunk again upon her chair . . . almost instantly recovering, QElinorJ raised her head and said, "How tenacious a tyrant is custom] How it clings to out practice] How it embarrasses our conduct] How it awes our very nature itself, and bewilders and con­ founds even our free willJ We are slaves to its laws and its follies, till we forget its usurpation. Who 2?4 should have told me only five minutes ago; that at an instant such as this, an instant of liberation from all shackles, of defiance to all forms; its antique prescriptions should still remain their power to torment met Who should have told me, that, at an instant such as this, I should blush to pronounce the attachment in which I ought to glory? and hardly know how to articulate .... That I should love you, Harleigh, can surprise no one but yourself!" Her cheeks were now in flames* and those of Harleigh were tinted with nearly as high a colour. Ellis fixed her eyes steadfastly on the floor .... [Elinor continued^, "a sacrifice brings honour or disgrace, according to its motives. Listen, therefore, for both our sakes, to mine* though they may lead you to a sub ject which you have long since, in common with every man that breathes, wished exploded, the Rights of Woman* Rights, however, which all your sex, with all its arbitrary assumption of superiority, can never disprove, for they are the Rights of human nature; to which the two sexes equally and inalienably belong . . . ." “Oh Harleigh!" she continued, “have I attained, at last, this exquisite moment? What does it not pay of excrutiating suspense, of hateful laborous forbearance, and unnatural self- denial? Harleigh! dearest Harleigh! You are the master of my soul! You are sovereign of my esteem, my admiration, my every feeling of tenderness, and every idea of perfection!— Accept, then, the warm homage of a glowing heart, that beats but for you; and that beat­ ing in vain, will beat no more!" The crimson hue now mounted to her forehead, and reddened her neck* her eyes became lustrous; as she was preparing, with an air of extasy, to open the shagreen case, which she had folded to her bosom, when Harleigh seizing her hand, dropt on one knee .... With a look of softness new to her features, now to her character, and emating from sensations of delight new to her hopes, Elinor sunk gently upon her chair, yet left him the full possession of her hand; and, for some instants, seemed silent from the luxury of inward enjoy­ ment. "Is it Harleigh," she then cried, "Albert Harleigh, I see at my feet? Ah! What i3 the period since I have known him, in which I would not joyfully have resigned all the rest of my life for a sight, a moment such as this! Dear, dear, delicious poison! Thrill, thrill through my veins! throb at my heart, new string every fibre of my frame! Is it, then, granted me, at last 275

to see the© thus? And thus dare speak to thee? Tb give sound to my feelingsJ to allow utterance to my love? To dare suffer uy own breath to emit the purest flame that ever warmed a virgin flame?— Ah! Harleigh! Proud Harleigh !*14

The conversation, which in all covers twenty-nine pages, continues with Elinor reiterating the rights of woman to unbidden love and forcing Harleigh to admit he loves another; his behavior indicates to Elinor that it is Juliet.

"if ever man deserved the sacrifice of a pure heart," she ^Elinor] continued, llttis you, Harleigh, you! and, mine, from the period it.first becomes conscious of its devotion to you, has felt that it could not survive the certitude of your union with another. All else, of slight, of failure, of inadequate pretensions, might be borne, for where neither party is happy, misery is not aggravated by contrast, nor mortification by comparison. But to become the object of insolent pity to the happy!— to make a part of a rival's blessings, by being offered up at the shrine of her superiority— Ho, Harleigh, no! Such abasement is not for Elinor. And what is the charm of this wretched machine of clay, that can pay for sustaining its burden under similar disgrace? Let those who praise, support it. For ms,— my glass is riai,— my cup is full,— I die!” "Die?" repeated Ellis with a faint scream, while Harleigh looked petrified with horrour. "Die, yes!" answered Elinor, with a smile triumphant though ghastly; "or sleep! . . • call it what you please, sleep, rest or death; termination is all I seek." "And is there, Elinor, no other name for what follows our earthly disolution?" cried Harleigh with a shuddering frown; "What say you if we call it immortality?"-*-?

Elinor and Harleigh have a brief discussion of immortality, but

Elinor perseveres and is about to open the shagreen case when

^ Wanderer, I, 395-^2.

^ Wanderer, I, 413-17* 276

Juliet intervenes with her promise never to marry Harleigh.

This episode reveals the melodramatic nature of parts of the book* Miss Burney males a Elinor’s intention clear, then draws out the scene, heightening it with bombastic language, and finally has the suicide averted only at the last instant by Juliet’s sacrificial declaration. Let me comment in more detail about the language and content of the passage* The first paragraph offers a good example of Miss Burney's use of elevated language and rhetoric in dialogue to produce a heightened emotional effect* in this paragraph she develops an antithesis between Harleigh’s opinion and Elinor's ("You think me . . . tarnished . . . in my own estimation, I am ennobled"), then develops Elinor's belief in the value of her revolutionary ideas in a long sentence with three clauses, each beginning with the same words, ("I owe to them . . •").

She then resorts to a rhetorical question. The diction of the paragraph is earmarked by metaphors ("tarnished", "slow poison") by strongly emotive words ("lingering existence," "despise," "degraded,"

"shamefully," "pining away") and by alliteration ("precious privilege,"

"slavery of subscribing," "estimation, I am ennobled"). Hie second paragraph shows two of Miss Burney's favorite devices for indicating emotions (the clasped hand and the blush) and also her tendency to personify emotions, abstractions or inanimate objects C'shame crimsoned her cheeks," "How tenacious a tyrant is custom"). The denunciation of the character of custom is presented in three parallel exclamatory sentences. Elinor then resorts to two long rhetorical

questions, each beginning with the same phrase ("Who should have

told me"). The next paragraph reaches an emotional peak with

its extravagant expressions of affection* exclamations ("dearest

HarleighJ") exalted, parallel metaphors ("master of ry soul,"

"sovereign of my esteem") and rhythmical declarations featuring a

variation in wording ( "heart, that beats but for you, and beating

in vain will beat no more"). There is also the word play with

"new" in the next paragraph, the familiar figures ("glass is run,"

"cup is full") and the elaborate metaphors ("new string, every

fibre of ny frame," "wretched machine of clay") of the later para­

graphs. These comments indicate the chief linguistic characteristics

of the melodramatic episodes.

Tb turn now to the content of the passages, it becomes obvious

that M s s Burney, although not writing a tendeng novel, displays a

concern with the French Revolution that exceeds the mere desire to

ur;<3 it for a setting. Within the first twenty pages of the novel

Elinor and Harleigh engage in a discussion about revolutionary

principles; shortly thereafter the Admiral delivers a speech con­

tending that the upper classes are entitled to wealth and status because the status quo is an "act of creation." The Admiral frequently eulogizes the English gentleman, the national character, etc. At one point Elinor gives a play in which the actors are

selected from all classes; this "lesson in Democracy" results in chaotic rehearsals# and the production is nearly cancelled. It becomes obvious then, that contrary to the statements of the Preface,

Miss Burney is far from unbiased in her presentation of controversial material. Although her partiality in itself would not be objection­ able, her simple-minded treatment of the complex subject is annoying

— consider, for example, the ruffian-like quality of the Commissary, who seems to personify the Revolution. However, l-Iiss Burney is less concerned with the impact of revolutionary ideas upon political organizations than with their effects upon social structuresj she is anxious to show the psychological effects of such ideas upon feminine behavior. Miss Burney must have felt that these revolution­ ary principles vrere a source of great danger, for she stacks the cards in characterizing her female revolutionist. Elinor is delighted at the prospect of the French Revolution ("millions of men let loose from all ties, divine, human"); she "detests all aristocracy" and cares for nothing but nature and liberty, the last of which she describes, partly in jest, as having "but two occupations— plucking up and pulling down." Elinor argues for "the Right of Woman, if endowed with senses, to make use of them"; however, her senses exhort her to take the initiative by declaring her love for Harleigh; her use of reason results in forward, frenzied, unrestrained behavior and in the belief in the "atheistical and suicidal doctrine" indicated in this episode. Miss Burney’s disapproval of Elinor's ideas is indicated, of course, by the extravagance of Elinor's behavior 279

and language, by Harleigh's and Juliet's reaction, by Elinor's

subsequent "conversion" to a belief in immortality and in in­

numerable other ways. Within this episode itself, Miss Burney

shows Elinor herself almost overwhelmed by the tyrant custom;

furthermore, with Elinor's constant blushing and her feelings

of shame, Miss Burney suggests that she is violating not only

customs but something even more fundamental in feminine nature,

an innate delicacy, upon which the feminine role in the relation­

ship between the sexes should be based.

An earlier scene in which Elinor declares to Juliet her

attitude toward Harleigh makes Miss Blarney's attitude even clearer#

As Elinor speaks franKLy of her love, Juliet observes

. . . the strong conflict in the mind of Elinor, between ungoverned inclination, which sought new systems for its support, and an innate feeling of what was due to the sex that she was braving, and the customs she was scorning.^7

For Miss Burney, then, these "fatal new systems" are supports sought by people like Elinor, who "gives way to all her impulses like a

child" and "considers her passions as her guide to glory— not as

the subtlest enemies of every virtue." In grasping at such

systems she is behaving contrary to "female consciousness and

native shame" and to the "barriers of custom and experience, raised by the wisdoms of foresight and established, after trial, for public utility." In accepting her new beliefs, Elinor has forgotten that

*7 Wanderer, I, 5 ^ 0 280

"the established combinations of society are not to be judged by the personal opinions" and that no one is so free or desolate as to oonsider himself "clear of all the responsibility to the opinion of others•" Harleigh's description of Elinor and his reaction to her are, perhaps, Miss Burney's most explicit commentary on Elinor.

Harleigh pointB out that she has no respect for Religion, law, prescriptive rights, or any of the acknowledged ties of society; he defines his own awareness of a social obligation*

It is true, I am independent* my actions are under no control, but there are ties from which we are never emancipated; ties which cling to our nature, and which, though voluntary, are imperious and cannot be broken or relinquished without self-reproach* ties formed by the equitable laws of fellow feeling; which bind us to our family, which unite us with our friends; and which, by our own expectations, teach us what is due to our connexions .1®

Elinor's failure to recognize any ties leaves Harleigh feeling that her partiality for him lacks dignity, delicacy, and the

"soul's fascination, that grows out of the mingled excellences, the blended harmonies of the understanding with the heart and the manners."

Wanderer, II, 55^* Harleigh's conservatism and his belief in gradual social and, by implication, political change is found in his statement about "the general laws of established society, which though they may be ame/liorated, changed or reformed, by Experience, wisely reflecting upon the past; by observation, keenly markLng the present; or by genius, creatively anticipating the future, can never be wholly reversed, without risking a rebound that simply restores them to their original condition." Wanderer, II, 29. 281

Implicitly, of course, Juliet represents Miss Burney's most elaborate criticism of Elinor. Although many readers may concur with Elinor's judgment of Juliet as a "compound of cold caution and selfish prudence," for Miss Blarney, the ideal of feminine behavior is clearly Juliet, for whom delicacy is the "prominent feature of her character," and whose behavior is determined by

"the execution of good sense," "the right use of reason," and by "patience, prudence and principle." The feminine quality that

Miss Burney offers as a balance for this dependence upon reason in her heroine is sensibility, "a compassionate feeling for woes which

she did not staffer, and of anxious solicitude to lessen distress by

kind offers, and affliction by tender sympathy." For the modern reader there are two main weaknesses in Miss Burney's presentation of her heroine's character. First, as I have indicated, the demon­

strations of sensibility are inextricably connected with sentimental excesses, in particular with tearful scenes. It is difficult for the reader to sense the heroine's courage when Miss Burney is working so hard to make the reader pity her ("What a change did this day produce for Ellis I What a blight to her hopes, what difficulties for her conduct, what agitation for her spirit!").

Second, Juliet, for whom "the most distant apprehension that her probity could be arraigned was shocking," sometimes allows her delicacy to obscure her sense of values. For example, shortly after having been kidnapped (presumably to be raped) by Sir 282

Lye 11, she is accosted by M m again and followed into the meadows; as she turns back to avoid him she hears the merrymaking from farmer Gooch's picnic and halts, uncertain whether to continue with the aristocratic would-be raper or to return to the un- mannered farmers— a rather unnatural sort of dilemma.^ There are several instances of this sort, but perhaps the most incredible one occurs when Juliet, after her frantic efforts throughout the novel to avoid her French pursuer, walks into M s hands rather than remain for a few moments in Harleigh's room which she had accidentally entered; the sense of shame at seeming to follow

Harleigh to M s room was so "poignant" that she must rush from

M s room as if he were the Frenchman* Undoubtedly, Miss Burney's attempts to stress certain values are weakened by the exigencies of her melodramatic plot, just as are her attempts to create consistent and credible characters.

Since The Wanderer was written well into the Romantic period (1814), it might be valuable to note briefly Miss Burney's attitude toward Nature, w M c h figures more prominently in the novel than in her earlier works. An imposing view of the ocean, a sunset, a visit to Stonehenge inevitably draws from Juliet "pious acknowledge­ ments" and apostrophes to the great Creator, to Gracious Providence.

19 This particular situation drew the criticism of Hazlitt, who used M s review of the book for M s Mstory of the English novel. He condemns the novel, claiming that it represents a perversion of Miss Burney's talents. See "Standard Hovels and Romances," The Complete Works of William Hazlitt, XVI, 25* 283

For Juliet, religion and God's works are onei mature is conducive to a 11 soul-expanding contemplation," and all human woe becomes

supportable, because transitory, "where heaven and eternity are

seen full in view." However much Juliet may be impressed by

"beautiful Nature," she has no delusions about the happiness of

people living close to Nature. M s s Burney spends two chapters

in which her heroine merely observes the life of the farmer and

the farm laborer. Although Juliet does not conclude, like Rasselas,

that happiness is nowhere to be found on earth, she does conclude

that the farmers are not to be envied.

She had here time and opportunity to see the fallacy, alike in authors and in the world, of judging solely by theory. Those who are born and bred in a capital; who first revel in its dissipations and vanities, next, sicken of its tumults and disappointments, write or exclaim forever, how happy is the country peasant's lot. They reflect not that, to make it such, the peasant must be so much more philanthropic than the rest of mankind, as to see and feel only his advantages, while he is blind and in­ sensible to his hardships .... Does he praise his own lot? No] 'Tis the writer who has never tried it . . . .20

Miss Burney is much too realistic and religiously orthodox to be

captivated by the doctrine of the happy peasant or the noble savage.

In the Dedication to The Wanderer, M s s Burney refers to the

power of the novel to instruct, and, as one reads, it seems apparent that the desire to instruct dominates the book, not only in the didactic commentary of the author, the debate between Harleigh and

2® Wanderer, IV, 554-5• 28*f

Elinor on immortality, and the Basselas-like chapters on country life, but also in the larger patterns, in the selection of characters and events. In the novel Miss Burney reveals her convictions about the inferior position of the female and attempts to define her role? it is a difficult role which reveals once again the vital importance of manners for the female. Juliet's difficulties show the economic and social problems of the talented, classless woman; without class status she is fair game for snobbish women and vulgar or predatory men and is almost entirely dependent upon a code of manners for protection. The novel shows the lack of such a code of manners in most of the characters; at the same time it presents an idealized picture of correct behavior in the heroine and shows the basis for manners in the qualities of her character. At the conclusion of the book, Miss Burney refers to the difficult role of her heroine as a lonely wanderer and the qualities which insure her success.

How mighty, thus circumstanced, are the DIFFICULTIES with which a FEMALE has to struggle! Her honour always in danger of being assailed, her delicacy of being offended, her strength of being exhausted, and hor virtue

The Wanderer represents Miss Burney's most exaggerated treat­ ment of the difficulties of the feminine role; in her desire to

21 Wanderer, V, 595- 285

reveal these difficulties she has almost left the realm of the

novel. She has chosen a paragon, an allegorical representation

of Feminine Virtue, for surely Juliet never reveals a weakness or

commits an act which Miss Burney even remotely suggests is wrong.

The actions in the novel are conducive to distress for the heroine,

but the troubles are not of her own making; they emphasize the in­

evitable difficulties of the Female role. The rest of the char­

acters take on the same allegorical stiffness. Harleigh stands

for Male Virtue and the minor characters stand for various

idiosyncrasies, follies and vices; actually they are less impor­

tant in their awn characters than in their capacities to assist or

harm the heroine- Elinor, the Errant Female, is shown more fully

than the other minor characters; the source of her "evil thinking"

is identified and the nature of her errors is displayed more fully.

Given these characters, and the didactic intention, it is almost

inevitable that the novel develop along the lines it has* a journey

of the protagonist through various tribulations until she arrives

triumphantly at the Happy Hall in which Bhe is surrounded by the

"good" people and from which the "bad" people are excluded. The

details of character and action are designed to arouse a mixture

of pity and admiration for the female in performing her intricate

role in society. Unfortunately, even if one recognizes in the novel the qualities of a didactic allegory, or of a popular novel

designed as "magical art," or a myth of the role of woman in society, 286 when it is judged by literary criteria auoh as unity, diversity,

richness, "insights*, and so forth, it remains quite inferior to

Evelina and Gecilia.^

^ It is interesting to note the similarity of the qualities of this novel to the qualities of the didactic allegory as they are defined by Elder Olson. "ihe allegorical incident happens, not because it is necessary or probable in the light of other events, but because a certain doctrinal subject must have a certain doc­ trinal predicate? its order in the action is determined not by the action as action, but by the action as doctrine; and whatever emotional quality and force it may have is determined rather by the emotional attitude which the doctrine must inculcate toward a certain object than by the context of action in which it occurs. Allegorical characters are what they are because we must view virtue or vice or whatever is involved in a certain light; not because we must adopt a certain attitude toward agents and patients if the action is to affect us in a certain way. Such poetry is a mode of statement; everything in it is representative of parts of discourse." Elder Olson,"William Empson, Contemporary Criticism and Poetic Diction," Critics and Criticism, p. 6 7 . CHAPTER VI

Conclusion

The preceding analysis of Miss Burney's novels has answered indirectly* if not directly, the specific questions raised in the first chapter concerning the value of the novels, their contribu­ tion to the novel form and the reasons for the inferiority of the later novels* The discussion has indicated the range and emphasis

In Miss Burney's description of eighteenth-century life* It is a wide range, encompassing all sorts of people of different occu­ pations and classes engaged in social events at home or in various public places* It is a range achieved as a consequence of vast omissions because the emphasis is such that the novels present only incidentally, if at all, any considerations of the problems of birth, death, politics and war; the emphasis is constantly upon the problems of manners* Among the novels' merits for the modern reader, ere those of any historical novel that serves to remind him of certain constant problems of the individual in society, and also to inform him of the idiosyncrasies of a particular age, in this instance those of the eighteenth century*

Miss Burney has been credited with being the first novelist to write from the woman's point of view and the first novelist of

28? 288 manners#"*- If correctly understood* both claims are certainly substantiated by the novels* In this instance* "writing from the woman's point of view" does not mean introducing extensive details about feminine attire* or about the feminine problems of domesticity* or revealing new depths in feminine consciousness— Richardson pre­ ceded and surpassed Miss Burney in hie revelations of feminine psychology* It means constantly seeing private and public behavior with a regard for their effect upon the woman's role in society; this sensitivity and awareness constitute something new for the novel* In the same way* to speak of Miss Burney as "the first novelist of manners" is correct if one understands that this phrase does not mean merely the presentation of an extensive gallery of portraits satirizing human affectations* follies* whims* vices—

Smollett precedes Miss Burney here* Instead of making a survey of unrelated eccentrics* her novels attempt to show individuals in relationship with each other and in connection with a set of social norms* to define the class structure and the relationships among the classes; Kiss Burney's novels are concerned entirely with manners, class and money as they affect people in their domestic and public social roles*

Despite the omission of much of life from her novels Miss

Burney succeeds in creating a world in them* a world with its own

*It is perhaps natural that these two titles should go together, because women, for various reasons, seem to have superior sensibilities in this area; according to Henry James* “Women are delicate and patient observers* they hold their noses close, as it were, to the texture of life*" See Watt, The Klse of the Hovel, pp. 296-301* 289 unity, richness, distinctness and concreteness. It is a world in which material objects and personal behavior become insignia of class, and spiritual and emotional qualities are considered almost entirely in the light of conventional codes of behavior. Miss

Burney's world achieves its distinctness through her constant emphasis upon the details of appearance, behavior and speech which define the norms of behavior or reveal their violation; the same consideration guides her in her selection of characters, episodes, and words. In her novellstic world Hiss Burney shows the complexity of class relationships. The reader sees the ubiquity of snobbery as each class lords it over the classes beneath it; he sees the way in which the middle and lower classes pattern their social behavior after that of the aristocrats, often adopting their vices as well as their virtues, Cecilia in particular shows the pervasive concern with money in this society and the dependence of the class structure upon money. Although Hiss Burney's treatment of class is essentially comic, in particular the satiric treatment of middle class affectations, her works also suggest more serious issues such as the hostility between classes, their inability or reluctance to understand one another, and the difficulties encountered in a class society by the talented individual who lacks the money, birth or manners to rise above his class.

In all probability, the power of Miss Burney's novels for her contemporaries did not depend entirely upon the vividness of the realistic detail about classes and society; it must have resided in their elements of romance. As Bichardson combines realism and romance in Pamela to give us a richly documented variant of the

Cinderella myth, so Miss Burney combines realistic detail and romantic plot and protagonlests to dramatise eighteenth-century myths about society; her novels draw together the aspirations and ideals* the attitudes and customs of her society and endow them with the sanction of such hi^ier authorities as Pamlly* Society* and God*

Hiss Burney describes* in particular, the myth of Courtship*

According to this myth* the earlier years of the young woman are spent tinder the domination of her parents whom she venerates because they protect her and because they are God's vicars (nto obey y o u r parents is to serve God1*) in a microcosmic version of God'6 universe*

Prom them she learns manners which serve as a password to protect her in her forays into the world* The earliest forays* upon which

Hiss Burney centers her attention* serve as initiation rites to introduce the young lady into the mysteries of her society; ostensibly intended for amusement only, in reality her entrance into society re­ presents a coming-of-age ceremony and the beginning of the familiar female quest for a gentleman-busband.

According to Miss Burney's version of this quest* the young lady's forays take her into the three classes of her society and to places at which there is an intermingling of the three classes*

She observes the hostility of these groups and the value of and need for passwords to minimize this hostility; she notes also the comical clumsiness with the passwords in displays of snobbery* coarseness* ignorance* servility* vanity and selfishness* But she is more than a mere spectator: the quest subjects her to dangers of various sorts* for which her dexterity with the passwords is her only protections

If she falters* she may be insulted* a humiliating experience for one of her highly sensitive nature; or even worse* she may be accosted at the risk of losing her virginity* a valuable asset in the bargaining stage of the quest* Highly dependent upon these passwords, she becomes acutely conscious of and hostile to any social or political forces which might effect a weakening of the codes and to any psychological influences which might cause her to become indifferent to their values* Since any violation of the conventions 1b potentially dangerous, she tends to lose perspective and to regard a comical fumbling as equal in seriousness to a more vicious exploitation of them* In the course of her quest, she learns new passwords, usually from the members of the upper class* so that her social language is a composite one, derived from religion* the family and the aristocracy* The Female Quest or learns that although the people in the upper class may be the most proficient in their use of language* there is no guarantee that they* or the members of other camps* can use the passwords well; indeed, the male, predatory members of the upper class seem fondest of using them for deception, and each class has its own particular dialect* In brief, she comes to learn that this language, like any system of symbols, is rich in its possibilities for confusion* Finally in her search, she encounters the gentleman-knight, whose character (like hers) helps to define the ideals of society; in this society he may perform heroic acts but his identity as hero is proclaimed by his sincere and extraordinarily adroit use of the passwords* For a time the two engage In an elaborate rhetorical conversation, made difficult not only by the counterfeit language of rival knights but by the need for an ambiguous use of the passwords by the heroine herself in order to conceal her partiality for the knight until he declares himself* When they are convinced that they speak the same language, they marry, leaving the Questor to enjoy unlimited, or slightly restricted, happiness with the privileges accorded to those of wealth and birth. Because of our altered concept of the woman's role, because of altered positions of the classes and the family, this myth is no longer a viable one for the m odem reader; the attention to this problem does, however, serve to awaken the reader to or remind him of the complexity of the woman's role and the complex relationship among manners, money, morals and class.

The preceding comments reveal the nature of Miss Burney's contribution to the form of the novel; essentially it is a contri­ bution of approach, of subject matter and sensitivity to an area of life rather than one of technique or style. Miss Burney herself was conscious of trying to do something nevr, for in the Preface to

BVellna she speaks of the writer's need to shun imitation and adds;

To avoid what is common, without adopting what is unnatural, must limit the ambition of the vulgar herd of authors: however, zealous, therefore, my veneration of the great writers I have mentioned, however I may feel myself enlightened by the knowledge of Johnson, charmed with the eloquence of Rousseau, softened by the pathetic powers of Richardson, and exhilarated by the wit of Fielding and humour of Smollett; I yet presume not to attempt pursuing the same ground which they have tracked; whence, though they may have cleared the weeds, they have also culled the flowers; and, though they have 293 2 rendered the path plain, they have left it barren*

Without denying her claim to originality, one can point out that she has borrowed from and been influenced by her predecessors and contemporaries* From Richardson (or his followers) she borrowed the epistolary technique and his concerns with the minutiae of the feminine world; in place of heroines who agonize over moral dilemmas, Miss Burney substitutes heroines whose distress is provoked by their scrupules over propriety*^ Miss Burney shares Fielding*s interest in social norms and satiric portraits but transfers her arena and concerns from the highway and inn to the tea table* As one considers her interest in both the plight of a sensitive heroine and the norms of society, it becomes clear that she draws together

^Evelina. pp. x-xi* Writers have disagreed about the extent of Miss Burney's reading of novels* Macaulay, writing before the publication of The Early Diary* argues that she read few novels; this conclusion is based upon her statement in the Preface to The Wanderer that her father's library contained only one novel, Amelia* Although the Diaries do not contain many extensive remarks about her reading of fiction (this is understandable in view of the wide­ spread criticism of novel-reading), Miss Burney does remind her sister of their "picking their way" through Fielding's novels, their early love of the novels of Richardson, etc* Furthermore, the Diaries show her ability to comprehend references to novels and indicate that she knew them from reading them. But the best evidence of her familiarity with the works of previous writers is the passage quoted above, in which she describes the qualities of earlier writers and indicates her intention of striking out into new territory*

^The extent of the difference between these two novelists is most apparent in Cecilia and Clarissai both novels show the same family struggle over marriage but the disparity becomes apparent if one considers the unheroic presentation of Cecilia and the greater complexity reflected in the Clarissar-Lovelace relationship than in the Cecilia-Mortimer relationship* The distance between Miss Burney's novels and those of Richardson is less in Sir Chari as fcrnndlson. perhaps the first novel of manners* 29^ It the narrative methods of Fielding and Richardson* Her relationship with Smollett and Sterne is more difficult to determine* Some of her characters like Captain Mirvan, some of the farcical scenes, and the social and satiric range of her plots suggest that she was influenced by the former; the sentimental tenor of the later novels suggests that Miss Burney was influenced by Sterne, if not by the

Sterne of Trlstam Shandy, at least by the Sterne of The Sentimental

Journey, which she mentions reading for the third time* One can also see similarities between Miss Burney's novels and those of her contemporaries* Camilla with its concern for education and The

Wanderer with its consideration of the effects of French liberal

thought reflect an awareness of the novels of ideas of the last part of the century* Camilla's lonely visit to CleveB, the scene describing her discovery of Bellamy's corpse, Juliet's nocturnal adventures with the poachers in the Hew Forest reveal Gothic traits at a far cry from Evelina* But perhaps most significant in regard to these literary influences is the way in which Miss Burney's novels parallel the historical trend in the sentimental novel described earlier in this paper (see above pages J B - b)• l Like the novels of Mackenzie,

Miss Burney's novels, while maintaining their unique emphasis upon

^Ian Watt comments on this contribution to the novel form initiated by Miss Burney and continued by Jane Austen, 11 In this as in much else Jane .Austen was the heir of Fanny Burney, herself no inconsiderable figure in bringing together the divergent directions which the geniuses of Richardson and Fielding had imposed upon the novel* Both women novelists followed Richardson— the Richardson of the less intense domestic conflicts of Sir Charles Qrandlson— 'in their minute presentation of daily life* At the same time, Fanny Burney and Jane Austen followed Fielding in adopting a more detached attitude to their narrative material, and in evaluating it from a comic and objective point of view*" The Rise of the Hovel, p* 29 6 * 295 manners, reveal an Increasing fondness for episodes of stronger emotion, greater violence, and melodrama. However, despite a greater use of sentimental material, Miss Burney never accepts the philo­ sophy of sensibility; in her novels, Camilla in particular, she attempts to combat the influence of the novels of sensibility.

The trend in her novels is no doubt to be explained by several forces— cultural, literary and personal. It is clear that the age expressed its disapproval of novels; it is clear that Miss

Burney was acutely conscious of this aversion and that she was anxious to avert the general criticism by writing novels displaying an un­ questionable morality. The direction that her didacticism would take is suggested by the two following passages from her Barlv Diary; they represent, I believe, her longest comments on the works of other novelists. The first describes her reactions to The Vicar of

Wakefield,

I have this very moment finished reading a novel call'd the Vicar of Wakefield, It was wrote by Dr, Goldsmith , , , , His style is rational and sensible, , • . This book is of a very singular kind— I own I began it with distaste and disrelish, having just read the elegant letters of Henry,— the beginning of it, even disgusted me— he mentions his wife with such indifference— such contempt— the contrast of Henry's treatment of Frances struck me— the more so, as it is real— while this tale is fictitious— and then the style of the latter is so elegant­ ly natural, so tenderly manly, so unassumingly rational I— I own I was tempted to thro' (sic) the book aside— but there was something in the situation of his family, which if it did not interewt me, at least drew me on— and as I proceeded, I was better pleased,— The description of his rural felicity, his simple, unaffected contentment— and family domestic happiness, gave me much pleasure— but still, I was not satisfied, a something was wanting to make the book satisfy me— to make me feel for the Vicar in every line he writes, nevertheless, before I was half 296

thro1 the first volume, I was, as I may truly expreae myself, surprised Into tears— and In the second volume, I really sobb'd. It appears to me, to be Impossible any person could read this book thro' with a dry eye at the same time the best part of It is that which turns one's grief out of doors, to open them to laughter * * . . The Vicar is a venerable old man— his distresses must move you* There is but very little story, the plot is thin, the incidents very rare, the sentiments uncommon, the Vicar is contented, humble, pious, virtuous • . • but upon the whole how much more was I pleased with the genuine productions of Mr, Griffith's pen • • , the elegance and delicacy of the manner-express ions— style of that book are so superior *<5

The second quotation describes her reaction to Hasselas:

I have lately read the Prince of Abissinia— I am almost equally charmed and shocked at it— the style, the senti­ ments are inimitable— but the subject is dreadful— and handled as it is by Dr. Johnson, might make any young, perhaps old, person tremble* 0, how dreadful, how terrible it is to be told by a man of his genius and knowledge, in so affectingly probable a manner, that true, real happiness is ever unattainable in this world|6

It does not seem far fetched to see in these statements evidence for the development of Miss Burney as a novelist* Her interest in the domestic situation of the Vicar (and that of Henry and Prances), her appreciation of the comic parts of the novel, her willingness to accept the sentimental mixture of comedy and pathos, her affective test for the novel expressed in the desire to feel the Vicar's distresses and the description of her tears as probf o f the novel's power, her preference for the "genuine" Letters of Henry and Prances

(see pp* 171-72 above for J* M* S* Tompkins' description of them), her expressions of admiration for the style and moralizing habits of

•5The Early Diary of Prances Burney. I, 13-1^

6lbld,, I, 16. 297

Johnson, her approval of Basselas1 "affectingly probable manner,N and her acceptance of Johnson's philosophy— all of these comments give evldnece of the literary influehces and personal taste that were to shape her own novels*?

On the basis of these autobiographical statements and the

novels themselves, the explanation for the trend in Miss Burney's novels seems obvious* Evelina represents Miss Burney's desire to do something new in fiction; namely, to describe manners* And she never lost her concern with manners; for, to consider only the heroines of the novels, just as Evelina shows the consequences of an

ignorance of manners, Cecilia shows the conflict between love and

the social patterns, Camilla the consequences of an impulsive dis­

regard for conventions, and The Wanderer the manners of a paragon

(Juliet) in contrast with those of an emancipated woman (Elinor)*

However, in time Miss Burney became more and more obsessed with the

criticism of the contemporary novel and the demands of the voluble

part of the reading public for morality and didacticism* These

demands had personal significance for her as a consequence, for

7fo these two passages, let me add one other statement from The Early Diary, which reveals clearly Miss Burney's attitude toward the conflict found in the novels between emotions and reason, or sensibility and the voice of authority (religion, reason, parent, consensus gentium)* "I applaud and honour every body who, having that lively and agonizing sensibility which is tremblingly alive to each emotion of sorrow, can so far subdue the too exquisite refinement of their feelings as to permit themselves to be consoled in affliction* Why should despair find entrance into the short life of man? It is praiseworthy to fly from it,— it is true philo­ sophy as well as practical religion, says, often, my dear father, to accommodate ourselves, without murmuring to our fortune*" The Early Diary. I, 125* 298 example, of her noting the reaction of the King and the Queen to novels and their moralistic criteria* She accepted these demands* but her acceptance revealed itself in a crude concept of didacti­ cism which led her to overt moralizing statements and to simple didactic sequences involving dilemmas* mistakes, and retributions*

The action in Camilla, for example, can almost be said to consist of a lengthy series of moral fables, involving the same characters with too little progression in the action* In her novels there is, then, a change in the mode of fiction until the comic mode of the novel of manners is engulfed by the didactic-sentimental mode*

The change is apparent in both the structure and texture of

Miss Burney’s work* The structure of the earliest novel shows an emphasis upon great diversity of detail in characters and actions; the characters may be types but their foibles are shown in differing ways* The choice of a seventeen-year-old girl as Central Intelli­ gence for Evelina means that the moralizing is kept at a minimum, largely restricted to the letters of Mr. Villars* In the later novels the moralizing of Mr. Villars is to be found throughout the entire work, and the episodes are not nearly as diversified; they all lead to distress, they all follow the same pattern* Furthermore, the language becomes more pretentious, and Miss Burney loses the value of her effective use of dialogue, her ability to create the speech of the lower classes, etc., because of her desire to create rhetorical patterns in the narrative passages and bombastic speeches in the emotional scenes* So Miss Burney after contributing significantly to the form of the novel began to ignore its demands for the real, 299 the actual, the probable, for a dense texture of detail and a narrative, not an expository prose style# Miss Burney decided erroneously that the novel was destined to develop under the aegis of Lord Orville, but the Branghtons still hold the field. BIBLIOGRAPHY

Aldridge, John W, (ed.)» Critiqueb and Essays on M o d e m Fiction, Hew York: Ronald Presa, 1952*

Altlck, Richard D. The Engl '«h finmmon Reader. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1957*

Ames, Van Meter, Aesthetics of the Novel, Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1928*

Baker, Ernest, The History of the English Kovel, 10 vols, London: H, F. and G. Witherby, 192^-39*

Beach, Joseph Warren, The Twentieth Century Hovel, New York: Appleton-Century-Crof ts, 1932»

Benkovltz, Miriam Jeanette. "Fanny Barney Novelist," Unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, Yale University, 1951,

Bentley, Phyllis E, Some Observations on the Art of Narrative. London: Home S, Van Thai, 19^«

Bernbanm, Ernest, The Drama of Sensibility, Boston: G-inn and Co., 1915-

Black, Prank Gees, The Technique of Letter Fiction in English from 1740-1800. Harvard Studies and Notes in Philology and Literature, XV, Cambridge, Mass., 1933*

• The Epistolary Novel In the Late Eighteenth Century, University of Oregon Studies in Literature and Philology, Nos 1-3* Eugene: University of Oregon, 19^0#

Bond, Donald F. "'Distrust* of Imagination in English Neo- Classicism," P£, XIV (1935). 5^69#

Bowen, Elizabeth, Anthony Trollone, A New Judgment, London: Oxford University, 1946.

Bronson, Bertrand H. "The Pre-Romantic or Post-Augustan Mode," ELH. XX (1953). 15-28.

300 Brown, Edward. X* Rhythm in the Novel* Toronto: University of Toronto, 1950*

Burke, Kenneth* Counterstatement* Harcourt, Brace and Co*, 1931*

______• A Grammar of Motives* New York: Prentice-Hall, 19**5*

______• A Philosophy of Literary Form* Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University, 19**1*

Burney, Frances* Camilla: or. A Picture of Youth* 5 vols* London: T. Payne, 1796*

______• Cecilia: or. Memoirs of an Heiress* ed* Annie Raine Ellis* 2 vols* London: G-* Bell and Sons, 191***

______• Diary and Letters of Madame D'Arblay* With Preface and Notes by Austin Dobson* 6 vols* London: MacMillan and Co., 190^5.

______• The Early Diary of Frances Burney, 1768-1778* ed* Annie Raine Ellis* 2 vols* London: George Bell and Sons, 190?•

______• Evelina* ed. Frank D* Mackinnon. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1930*

______• The Wanderer: or. Female Difficulties* 5 vols* Loddon: Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orrne and Brown, I8l4.

Cecil, David* Poets and Story Tellers* New York: MacMillan Co*, 19^9*

Collins, Arthur Simons. Authorship in the Days of Johnson* London: R* Holden and Co*, 1927*

______* The Profession of Letters. London: G* Routledge and Sons, 1928*

Crane, R. S. (ed*)* Critics and Criticism* Chicago: University of Chicago, 1952*

______• The Languages of Criticism and the Structure of Poetry* Toronto: University of Toronto, 1953*

______• "A Reply to Mr* Johnson," Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism. XII (1953-5*0. 257-65I

______• "Suggestions Toward a G-enealogy of the 'Man of Feeling,'" ELH, I (193*0. 205-3**- 302

Dobree, Bonapy* Modern Prose Style. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 193

Poe tor Johnson and Fanny Barney a With an Introduction by Chauncey Brewster Tinker. Hew Tork: Moffat, Yard and Co., 1911*

Dobson, Austin* I’annv Burnev. Hew York: The Macmillan Go*, 1903*

Duncan, Hugh Dalziel* Language and LIteratm’e in Society* Chicago: University of Chicago, 1953*

Edwards, Averyl. Penny Burney* London: Staples Press, 19^8*

Edgar, Pelham* The Art of the Hovel* Hew York: MacMillan Co*, 1933*

Essays and Studies by Members of the English Association. XI* collected by Oliver Elton* Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1925*

Pielding, Henry* Joseph Andrews. With an Introduction by Maynard Mack* Hew York: Rinehart, 1953*

Pollett, Wilson. The Modern Hovel. Hew York: A. A* Knopf, 1923*

Pord, Pord Madox* The English Hovel* Philadelphia: J. B. Lippen— cott Co*, I929*

Forster, E. M. Aspects of the Hovel* London: Edward Arnold and Co., 1953*

___ • Howards End. New York: Vintage Books, 1955*

Poster, James R* History of the Pre-Romantic Hovel in England* Hew York: Modern Language Association of America, 19^9*

Galloway, W. P., Jr. "The Conservative Attitude Toward Fiction 1770-1830," PMLA. LXV. iv, pt. 2(19^0), 10^1-59.

Goodman, Paul* The Structure of Literature* Chicago: University of Chicago, 195^»

Grabo, Carl. The Technique of the Hovel* Hew York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1928*

Green, P. C* Minuet. Hew York: E. P* Dutton and Co*, 1935*

Gregory, Allene. The French Revolution and the English Novel* New York: G. P* Putnam's Sons, 1915*

Hahn, Emily. A Degree of Prudery. New York: Doubleday and Co., 1950. 303

Hale, Will T* Madame D 1 Arbia.v1 a Place in the Development of the English Hovel. Indiana University Studies Ho. 28, III* Bloomington, 1916.

Hatcher, Anna Granville. "Voir as a Modern Novelistic Device," P£, XXIII (1944), 35^-74.

Hazlitt, William. The Complete Works of William Hazlitt, ed. P. P. Howe. 21 vols. London: J. M. Dent and Sons, 1930- 34.

Heidler, Joseph Bunn. The History, from 1700 to 1800. of English Criticism of Prose Fiction. University of Illinois Studies in language and Literature, XIII, No. 2. Urbana: University of Illinois, 1928.

Hemlow, Joyce. "Fanny Burney and the Courtesy Book," PMLA. LX7 (September 1950), 732-61 .

______• "Fanny Burney: Playwright," University of Toronto Quarterly. XIX (1950), 170-8 9 .

Horne, Charles F. The Technique of the Novel. New York; Harper and Bros., 1908.

Horner, Joyce M* The English Women Novelists and their Connection with the Feminist Movement (1688-1797). Smith College Studies in Modem Language XI, nos. 1-3* Northampton, Mass., 1930.

Huffman, Charles Herbert. The Eighteenth Century Novel in Theory and Practice. Dayton, Virginia: Ruebushr-Kieffer Co., 1920.

James, Henry. The Art of the Novel. With an Introduction by Richard P. Blackmur. New York: C. Scribner’s Sons, 1934.

Johnson, Francis R. et al. (eds.) The Seventeenth Century. Stanford: Stanford University, 1951*

Johnson, Reginald Brumley. (ed. )• Fanny Burney and the Burneys* New York: Frederick A. Stokes Co., 1926.

______• The Women Novelists. London: W. Collins’ Sons and Co., 1918.

Johnson,Samuel. History of Rasselas. With an Introduction by George Birbeck Hill. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1898. 3CU

Johnson, S. P. "'Critics and Criticism, A Discussion. The Chicago Manifesto," Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism. XII (1953-5*0. 249-57. 2 6 5 -6 7 . Kettle, Arnold. An Introduction to the English Hovel. 2 vols. London: Hutchinson House, 1951-53*

Leavis, Prank Haymond. The Great Tradition. London: Chatto and Windus, 19*+6.

Leavis, Q. D. Piet ion and the Reading Public. London: Chatto and Windus, 1932*

Leggett, H. W, The Idea in Fiction. London: G. Allen and Unwin, 193^*

Liddell, Robert. Some Principles of Fiction. London: Jonathan Cape, 1953*

Lloyd, Christopher. Fanny Burney. London: Longmans, Green and Co., 1936.

Lovett, Robert Morss and Helen Sard Hughes. The History of the Hovel in England. Cambridge, Mass.: Riverside Press, 1932-

Love joy, Arthur 0. Essays in the History of Ideas. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins Press, 1948.

Lubbock, Percy* The Craft of Fiction. London: Jonathan. Cape, 195**.

Macaulay, Thomas Babington. Essays: Critical and Miscellaneous. Hew York: D. Appleton and Co., 1878.

MacCarthy, Bridget G. The Later Women Novelists 1744—1818. Cork; Cork University Press, 19*+7*

McKillop, Alan Dugald. The Early Masters of English Fiction. Lawrence: University of Kansas Press, 1956.

Montague, Edwine and Louis L. Martz. "Fanny Burney's Evelina." The A&e of Johnson: Essays Presented to Chauncey Brewster Tinker. Hew Haven: Yale, 19^9*

Moore, C. A. "Shaftesbury and the Ethical Poets in England, 1700- 1760," PMLA. XXXI (1916), 264-325.

Morgan, Charlotte E. The Rise of the Hovel of Manners. New York: Columbia University Press, 1911* 305 Morley, Edith J. Fanny Burney. (The English Association, Pamphlet 60) /Pxford: Clarendon^. 1925*

Muir, Edwin, The Structure of the Novel, New York: Harcourt Brace and Co., 1929.

Nicoll, Allardyce. A History of Late Eighteenth Century Drama. 1750-»1800. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 192?«

O'Connor, William Van (ed.). Forms of Modern Fiction. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota, 19^8.

Ortega y Gasset, Jose. The Dehumanization of Art and Notes on the Novel. Tr, by Helene Weyl, Princeton: Princeton University, 19^8.

Overman, Antoinette A, An Investigation into the Character of Fanny Burnay. Amsterdam: H. J, Paris, 1933*

Phelps, William Lyon. The Advance of the English Novel. New York: Dodd Mead and Co., 1927*

Railo, Eino. The Haunted Castle. London: G. Routledge and Sons, 1927.

Raleigh, Walter. The English Novel. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1898 .

Read, Herbert. English Prose Style. New York: H. Holt and Co., 1928.

Reeve, Clara. The Progress of Romance. New York: Facsimile Text Society, 1930*

Richardson, Samuel. The Works of Samuel Richardson. 12 vols. London: Henry Sotheran and Co., I883*

Saintsbury, George. The English Novel. London: J. M. Dent and Sons, 1913»

Shumaker, Wayne. Elements of Critical Theory. Berkeley: University of California, 1952.

Smollett, Tobias. The Advent lires of Ferdinand Count Fathom. Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1925»

______• Roderick Random. Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1926.

Stephen, Sir Leslie. History of English Thought In the Eighteenth Century. 2 vols. London: John Murray, 192?• 306

Taylor, Houghton Veils. The Idea of Locality in English Criticism of [Fiction. Chicago: University of Chicago, 1936.

_ • "’Particular Character1: An Early Phase of a Literary Evolution," FMLA, LX, i, pt 1 (194*5). l6l-?4.

Taylor, John Tennon. Early Opposition to the English Novel. New York: King's Crown Press, 194-3*

Tompkins, J. M. S. The Polite Marriage. Cambridge: Cambridge University, 1938*

_ . The Popular Novel in England 1770-1800. London: Constable and Co., 1932*

Trilling, Lionel. The Liberal Imagination • New York: Doubleday and Co., 1953*

Utter, Robert P. and Gwendolyn Bridges Needham. Pamela's Daughters. New York: The MacMillan Co., 1937*

Van Ghent, Dorothy. The English Novel. New York: Rinehart and Co.. 1953-

Vivas, Eliseo. "The Neo-Aristoteleans of Chicago," SR, LXI (1953)» 136-^9.

Walpole, Horace. The Castle of Otranto. London: The Scholartes Press, 1929-

Watt, Ian. The Rise of the Novel. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1957*

Wharton, Editji. The Writing of Fiction. New York: C. Scribner's Sons, 1925*

White, Eugene. "Penny Burney, Novelist— A Study in Technique*" Unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, University of Illinois, 1950.

Willey, Basil. The Eighteenth Century Background. London: Chatto and Windus, 19^0.

Wimsatt, W. K., Jr. Philosophic Words. New Haven: Yale University, 194-8.

______• The Prose Style of Samuel Johnson. New Haven: Yale University, 19^1. ,

_____ • The Verbal Icon. Lexington: University of Kentucky, 195^. 307

Wright, Walter Francis# Sensibility in English Prose Fiction 1760-181**; A Reinterpretation# Illinois Studies in Language and Literature* XXII* nos* Urbana; University of Illinois, 1957* AUTOBIOGRAPHY

I» Howard Lee German, was born in East Rochester, Hew York, on May 11, 1919. After graduating from the secondary schools there,

I went to the University of Rochester, from which I received a B.S* in 19^+0. Por the next ten years I was employed by Bausch and Lomb

Optical Company as an optical engineer. However, in 1950 I decided to change my profession and become an English teacher, so I began graduate work in English at the Ohio State University and received an M.A* in 1951* At that time I began work on the Ph.D. While completing the requirements for this degree, I have also been teaching, for four years as a graduate assistant at the Ohio State

University and for the last two years as an assistant professor at Wabash College in Indiana*