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MISS HANNAH MORE
A female instructor, a dramatic writer, a poetess, and author of several publications, whose moral and religious tendency, and the warm philanthropy by which they are evidently inspired, have indisputably established her claim to rank with, if not precede the great benefactors of mankind.
In the course of a dispute with a certain luxuriant dramatist of her own sex, it was malignantly observed, that her intimacy with David Garrick, clearly accounted for the literary reputation she had so prematurely acquired. I confess that the lady to whom I allude, had abundant reason to complain, but the various and important productions of the subject of my present article, since the death of her invaluable friend, have established beyond a doubt, the vigour and originality of her powers.
How few in the paths of literature, how very few, can boast that the purity and utility of their writings have kept pace with their intellectual endowments (too often alas in an opposite ratio) but the rare praise of not having sent a page to the press without a strong, a palpable bias to mend the manners or adorn the heart, is the envied praise of Hannah More. Of a writer who has thus pre-eminently attained, what ought to be the pride, and most assuredly is the chief and only legitimate purpose of literature, our happiness here and hereafter, what more can be said?
'cedite Romani scriptores, cedite Graii.'
[135] If this short tribute of well-earned and sincere approbation should catch the eye of the person who is the subject of it, I wish her to consider it as a trifling memorial of gratitude, from one, who has perused her works, and listened to her conversation, with pleasure and instruction.
Mr Burke once observed to Sir Joshua Reynolds, 'What a delight you have in your profession?' - 'No, Sir,' said Dr Johnson, taking up the question, with his usual deep toned emphasis of strong conviction, 'No Sir, Reynolds paints only to get money.' A spirited argument was the consequence of this unexpected declaration, in which Miss More, with a gallantry, inspired by a love of the arts, took a decided part against the Doctor, and was eloquent in defence of the disinterestedness of Sir Joshua; insisting, with much of reason and truth on her side, that the pleasure experienced by the artist, while working with his pencil, was derived from higher, and more luxuriant sources, than guineas and bank notes. 'Only answer me,' said the moralist, in a solemn and impressive tone, 'Did Leander swim across the Hellespont, merely because he was fond of swimming?' Z. [complete]
Provided by Julie A. Shaffer, November 1999.
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