Excerpt from The Female Quixote (1752), by Charlotte Lennox

Mrs Charlotte Lennox (Ramsay), 1720 - 1804. Author | National ...

Charlotte Lennox, print based on a portrait by Joshua Reynolds (image credit: National Galleries of Scotland)

In the second year of his retirement, the marchioness brought him a daughter, and died in three days after her delivery. The marquis, who had tenderly loved her, was extremely afflicted at her death; but time having produced its usual effects, his great fondness for the little Arabella entirely engrossed his attention, and made up all the happiness of his life. At four years of age he took her from under the direction of the nurses and women appointed to attend her, and permitted her to receive no part of her education from another, which he was capable of giving her himself. He taught her to read and write in a very few months; and, as she grew older, finding in her an uncommon quickness of apprehension, and an understanding capable of great improvements, he resolved to cultivate so promising a genius with the utmost care; and, as he frequently, in the rapture of paternal fondness, expressed himself, render her mind as beautiful as her person was lovely.

Nature had indeed given her a most charming face, a shape easy and delicate, a sweet and insinuating voice, and an air so full of dignity and grace, as drew the admiration of all that saw her. These native charms were improved with all the heightenings of art; her dress was perfectly magnificent; the best masters of music and dancing were sent for from London to attend her. She soon became a perfect mistress of the French and Italian languages, under the care of her father; and it is not to be doubted, but she would have made a great proficiency in all useful knowledge, had not her whole time been taken up by another study.

From her earliest youth she had discovered a fondness for reading, which extremely delighted the marquis; he permitted her therefore the use of his library, in which, unfortunately for her, were great store of romances, and, what was still more unfortunate, not in the original French, but very bad translations.

The deceased marchioness had purchased these books to soften a solitude which she found very disagreeable; and, after her death, the marquis removed them from her closet into his library, where Arabella found them.

The surprising adventures with which they were filled, proved a most pleasing entertainment to a young lady who was wholly secluded from the world; who had no other diversion, but ranging like a nymph through gardens, or, to say better, the woods and lawns in which she was enclosed; and who had no other conversation but that of a grave and melancholy father, or her own attendants.

Her ideas, from the manner of her life, and the objects around her, had taken a romantic turn; and, supposing romances were real pictures of life, from them she drew all her notions and expectations. By them she was taught to believe, that love was the ruling principle of the world; that every other passion was subordinate to this; and that it caused all the happiness and miseries of life. Her glass, which she often consulted, always showed her a form so extremely lovely, that, not finding herself engaged in such adventures as were common to the heroines in the romances she read, she often complained of the insensibility of mankind, upon whom her charms seemed to have so little influence.

The perfect retirement she lived in afforded, indeed, no opportunities of making the conquests she desired; but she could not comprehend how any solitude could be obscure enough to conceal a beauty like hers from notice; and thought the reputation of her charms sufficient to bring a crowd of adorers to demand her of her father. Her mind being wholly filled with the most extravagant expectations, she was alarmed by every trifling incident; and kept in a continual anxiety by a vicissitude of hopes, fears, wishes, and disappointments.

[Curious how Arabella's novelized worldview plays out? Here's what happens when her father tries to arrange a match between her and likable, but not sufficiently romantic, cousin Glanville.]

His nephew, having just returned from his travels, was preparing to come and pay him a visit in his retreat; and, as he always designed to marry Arabella to this youth, of whom he was extremely fond, he told his daughter of the intended visit of her cousin, whom she had not seen since she was eight years old; and, for the first time, insinuated his design of giving him to her for an husband.

Arabella, whose delicacy was extremely shocked at this abrupt declaration of her father, could hardly hide her chagrin; for, though she always intended to marry some time or other, as all the heroines had done, yet she thought such an event ought to be brought about with an infinite deal of trouble; and that it was necessary she should pass to this state through a great number of cares, disappointments, and distresses of various kinds, like them; that her lover should purchase her with his sword from a crowd of rivals, and arrive to the possession of her heart by many years of services and fidelity.

The impropriety of receiving a lover of her father's recommending appeared in its strongest light. What lady in romance ever married the man that was chosen for her? In those cases the remonstrances of a parent are called persecutions; obstinate resistance, constancy and courage; and an aptitude to dislike the person proposed to them, a noble freedom of mind which disdains to love or hate by the caprice of
others.

[...]

The marquis, though he had resolved to give Arabella to his nephew, was desirous he should first receive some impressions of tenderness for her, before he absolutely declared his resolution; and ardently wished he might be able to overcome that reluctance which she seemed to have for marriage: but, though Glanville in a very few days became passionately in love with his charming cousin, yet she discovered so strong a dislike to him, that the marquis feared it would be difficult to make her receive him for an husband: he observed she took all opportunities of avoiding his conversation; and seemed always out of temper when he addressed any thing to her; but was well enough pleased, when he discoursed with him; and would listen to the long conversations they had together with great attention.

The truth is, she had too much discernment not to see Mr. Glanville had a great deal of merit: his person was perfectly handsome; he possessed a great share of understanding, an easy temper, and a vivacity which charmed every one, but the insensible Arabella.

She often wondered, that a man, who, as she told her confidante, was master of so many fine qualities, should have a disposition so little capable of feeling the passion of love, with the delicacy and fervour she expected to inspire; or that he, whose conversation was so pleasing on every other subject, should make so poor a figure when he entertained her with matters of gallantry. However, added she, I should be to blame to desire to be beloved by Mr. Glanville; for I am persuaded that passion would cause no reformation in the coarseness of his manners to ladies, which makes him so disagreeable to me, and might possibly increase my aversion.

The marquis, having studied his nephew's looks for several days, thought he saw inclination enough in them for Arabella, to make him receive the knowledge of his intention with joy: he, therefore, called him into his closet, and told him in few words, that, if his heart was not pre-engaged, and his daughter capable of making him happy, he resolved to bestow her upon him, together with all his estates.

Mr. Glanville received this agreeable news with the strongest expressions of gratitude; assuring his uncle, that Lady Bella, of all the women he had ever seen, was most agreeable to his taste; and that he felt for her all the tenderness and affection his soul was capable of.

I am glad of it, my dear nephew, said the marquis, embracing him: I will allow you, added he smiling, but a few weeks to court her: gain her heart as soon as you can, and when you bring me her consent, your marriage shall be solemnized immediately.

Mr. Glanville needed not a repetition of so agreeable a command: he left his uncle's closet, with his heart filled with the expectation of his approaching happiness; and, understanding Arabella was in the garden, he went to her with a resolution to acquaint her with the permission her father had given him to make his addresses to her.

He found his fair cousin, as usual, accompanied with her women; and, seeing that, notwithstanding his approach, they still continued to walk with her, and impatient of the restraint they laid him under, I beseech you, cousin, said he, let me have the pleasure of walking with you alone: what necessity is there for always having so many witnesses of our conversation? You may retire, said he, speaking to Lucy, and the other woman; I have something to say to your lady in private.

Stay, I command you, said Arabella, blushing at an insolence so uncommon, and take orders from no one but myself.--I pray you, Sir, pursued she frowning, what intercourse of secrets is there between you and me, that you expect I should favour you with a private conversation? An advantage which none of your sex ever boasted to have gained from me; and which, haply, you should be the last upon whom I should bestow it.

You have the strangest notions, answered Glanville, smiling at the pretty anger she discovered: certainly you may hold a private conversation with any gentleman, without giving offence to decorum; and I may plead a right to this happiness, above any other, since I have the honour to be your relation.

It is not at all surprising, resumed Arabella gravely, that you and I should differ in opinion upon this occasion: I don't remember that ever we agreed in any thing; and, I am apt to believe, we never shall.

Ah! don't say so, Lady Bella, interrupted he: what a prospect of misery you lay before me! For, if we are always to be opposite to each other, it is necessary you must hate me as much as I admire and love you.

These words, which he accompanied with a gentle pressure of her hand, threw the astonished Arabella into such an excess of anger and shame, that, for a few moments, she was unable to utter a word.

What a horrid violation this, of all the laws of gallantry and respect, which decree a lover to suffer whole years in silence before he declares his flame to the divine object that causes it; and then with awful tremblings and submissive prostrations at the feet of the offended fair!

Arabella could hardly believe her senses when she heard a declaration, not only made without the usual forms, but also, that the presumptuous criminal waited for an answer, without seeming to have any apprehension of the punishment to which he was to be doomed; and that, instead of deprecating her wrath, he looked with a smiling wonder upon her eyes, as if he did not fear their lightning would strike him dead.

Indeed, it was scarce possible for him to help smiling, and wondering too, at the extraordinary action of Arabella; for, as soon as he had pronounced those fatal words, she started back two or three steps; cast
a look at him full of the highest indignation; and, lifting up her fine eyes to heaven, seemed, in the language of romance, to accuse the gods for subjecting her to so cruel an indignity.

The tumult of her thoughts being a little settled, she turned again towards Glanville, whose countenance expressing nothing of that confusion and anxiety common to an adorer in so critical a circumstance, her rage returned with greater violence than ever. If I do not express all the resentment your insolence has filled me with, said she to him, affecting more scorn than anger, it is because I hold you too mean for my resentment; but never hope for my pardon for your presumptuous confession of a passion I could almost despise myself for inspiring. If it be true that you love me, go and find your punishment in that absence to which I doom you; and never hope I will suffer a person in my presence, who has affronted me in the manner you have done.

Saying this, she walked away, making a sign to him not to follow her.