Born: 13 June 1752, United Kingdom
Died: 6 January 1840
Country most active: United Kingdom
Also known as: Madame D’Arblay, Fanny Burney
This biography, written by Louise Peskett, is shared with permission from Brighton & Hove Museums.
Her first and most famous novel, ‘Evelina’ appeared in 1778, published anonymously and without the knowledge of her father. Written in letter form, ‘Evelina’ charts the progress of a seventeen year old woman as she negotiates the many traps, challenges and dangers of being a young woman of marriageable age in the eighteenth century. The novel is pioneering for its use of a female protagonist – a rare thing at the time – its satirical view of fashionable society, and its mocking of the masculine values that shaped women’s lives. Writing a good few years before Jane Austen, Burney was well aware of the pitfalls of the cynical marriage market that had no room for love and saw partners only in terms of how much money they were worth.
The novel was a huge success, gaining praise from literary heavyweights of the age, and after a few months Burney owned up to being the author. Consequently, she fell into Hester Thrale’s orbit and became part of the artistic, cultural and political set who gathered around the Thrales in Streatham. In 1779, she stayed here in Brighton with the Thrale family and wrote in her diary how much she enjoyed sea-bathing.
Fanny went on to write four novels, eight plays, one biography and twenty-five volumes of journals and letters.
She put off marriage until her early forties, marrying a French emigre, General Alexandre D’Arblay in 1793. They had one son.
A footnote to Fanny Burney’s career is the description of a mastectomy that she underwent in France in 1810. Anaesthetic had yet to be invented and Burney remained conscious throughout the surgery. The incredibly detailed operation, described in a letter to her sister, is considered the earliest known description of this procedure by a woman. Burney survived the operation, living until her 80s, outliving her husband and son, and finally settling in Bath.
The following is excerpted from Famous Women: An Outline of Feminine Achievement Through the Ages With Life Stories of Five Hundred Noted Women, written by Joseph Adelman, published 1926 by Ellis M Lonow Company.
Madame d’Arblay (Frances Burney), an English novelist (1752-1840). She was the daughter of Charles Burney, a musician. Dr. Johnson was her father’s friends, and Garrick his frequent guest, and the brilliant social circle in which he moved afforded rich material for genius to work upon. In 1778 Miss Burney’s novel “Evelina” was published, and its marvellous success at once classed her amongthe first writers of fiction. IN 1782 her next novel “Cecilia” was also very successful.
In 1793 she married Alexandre d’Arblay, a French officer, whom she survived twenty-two years. She wrote other novels, etc., but her literary fame rests upon “Evelina” and “Cecilia,” her earliest work.
The following is excerpted from Woman: Her Position, Influence and Achievement Throughout the Civilized World. Designed and Arranged by William C. King. Published in 1900 by The King-Richardson Co. Copyright 1903 The King-Richardson Co.
Madame D’Arblay (Fanny Burney), English Authoress and Social Leader, 1752 – 1840 A.D.
Frances Burney was born at Lynn Regis, in Norfolk, England, 1752. Her mother was of distant French descent and died when she was but nine years old; her father was a professor of music. Her sisters were sent to school, but she, as she tells it herself, “never was placed in any seminary, and never was put under any governess or instructor whatever.” At ten years of age she had taught herself to read and write, and became an incessant scribbler both of prose and verse, and ardently fond of reading.
Six years after his wife’s death her father married again; and from her fifteenth year onward, Fanny lived in the midst of an exceptionally brilliant social circle, which included the chief musicians, actors, and literary men of the day, and not a few were of her father’s aristocratic patrons. Her father’s drawing room was in fact Fanny’s only school, and not a bad one.
Her first published novel, Evelina, was published clandestinely, and had been received and praised everywhere before her father knew of the event. Her fame spread. Johnson had declared that there were passages in Evelina which might do honor to Richardson; Sir Joshua Reynolds could not be persuaded to eat until he had finished the story; and Burke had sat up all night to read it. The second story, Cecelia, greatly increased her popularity.
In 1786 Miss Burney obtained a post in the service of Queen Charlotte, consort of George III, and seven years later became the wife of M. D’Arblay, a French officer of artillery, who with Madame de Staël, Talleyrand and other refugees, lived at “Juniper Hall,” Dorking. Her only child, afterward the Rev. A. D’Arblay, was born in 1794.
Madame D’Arblay died at Bath, 1840, and her celebrated Journal and Letters were edited by her niece and published in 1842-1846. Her memoirs, the rambling recollections of an old lady, are full of imperfections; but despite these and her extraordinary affections of style, the book gained considerable popularity.
The following is excerpted from the Dictionary of National Biography, originally published between 1885 and 1900, by Smith, Elder & Co. It was written by Leslie Stephen.
ARBLAY, FRANCES (BURNEY), Madame d’ (1752–1840), novelist, was born 13 June 1752, at King’s Lynn, where her father, Dr. Burney, was then organist. He had been married in 1749 to her mother, Esther Sleepe, the granddaughter of a French refugee named Dubois. Frances was one of six children, of whom Esther (afterwards Mrs. Burney, of Bath) and James (afterwards Admiral Burney) were older, Susannah (Mrs. Phillips), Charles (a well-known Greek scholar), and Charlotte (Mrs. Clement Francis, and afterwards Mrs.Broome) younger than herself. In 1760 Dr. Burney moved to London, where his whole time was soon absorbed in giving music lessons and in social engagements. The death of his wife, 28 Sept. 1761, broke up his household, and Dr. Burney sent Esther and Susannah to a school in Paris. Frances was detained at home from a fear lest her reverence for her maternal grandmother, then living in France, should cause her conversion to Catholicism. Dr. Burney was married again in 1766 to Mrs. Stephen Allen, who seems to have been a kind stepmother. A scheme of sending Frances to follow her sisters was then abandoned. She was thus entirely self-educated, her father having no time to spare even for directing her studies. She was a backward child, and did not know her letters when eight years old. At ten she began scribbling stories, farces, tragedies, and epic poems, till her conscience smote her for this waste of time, and on her fifteenth birthday (preface to Wanderer) she burnt all her manuscripts. The heroine of the last story consumed was Caroline Evelyn, the mother of Evelina. The situation struck her fancy, and she continued to work out Evelina’s adventures in her head. The story was not written down till it was fully composed, when the first two volumes were offered to Dodsley by her brother Charles. Dodsley declined to deal for an anonymous work. It was then offered to Lowndes, who asked to see the whole. She now confided her secret to her father, who treated the matter as a joke, made no objection to her plan, and ‘dropped the subject.’ The completed book was then sent to Lowndes, who gave 20l., to which he subsequently added 10l. and ten handsomely bound copies. It was published anonymously in January 1778, under the title of ‘Evelina, or a Young Lady’s Entrance into the World.’ It was favourably received and soon attracted notice. Dr. Burney, on reading it, recognised his daughter’s work. He confided the secret to Mrs. Thrale, to whose daughter he had given music lessons. Mrs. Thrale had discussed it with Dr. Johnson, who said that he ‘could not get rid of the rogue,’ and declared that ‘there were passages which might do honour to Richardson.’ He got it almost by heart, and mimicked the characters with roars of laughter. Sir Joshua Reynolds took it up at table, was so absorbed in it that he had to be fed whilst reading, and both he and Burke sat up over it all night. No story since ‘Clarissa Harlowe’ had succeeded so brilliantly. Miss Burney expressed her delight on hearing some of this news by rushing into the garden and dancing round a mulberry tree—a performance which in her old age she recounted to Sir W. Scott (Scott’s Diary for November 1826). This was at Chessington, near Epsom, the retreat of an old friend of her father’s, Samuel Crisp, who had retired from the world in disgust at the failure of a play and some loss of money (Memoir of Dr. Burney, i. 179). Miss Burney loved him, called him ‘daddy,’ and wrote to him long and amusing letters. She was now introduced to Mrs. Thrale, and during the next two or three weeks became almost domesticated in the family. She spent many months at Streatham, and was greatly caressed by Dr. Johnson, whom, though he was an old acquaintance of her father’s, she seems only to have seen once before. Mrs. Thrale pressed her to write a comedy. Sheridan, whom she met at Sir Joshua’s, declared that he would accept anything of hers unseen; and the playwright Murphy offered her the benefit of his experience. Thus prompted, she wrote the ‘Witlings,’ and submitted it to the judgment of Mr. Crisp and her father. It was suppressed in deference to ‘a hissing, groaning, catcalling epistle ‘ from the two; Mr. Crisp thinking that it recalled too strongly to its own disadvantage Moliere’s ‘Femmes Savantes,’ a work which she had never read. Returning to her more natural occupation, she composed with great care her second novel, ‘Cecilia,’ which was published in five volumes in the summer of 1782. Macaulay had heard from contemporaries that it was expected as impatiently as any of Scott’s novels; and the success was unequivocal. Three editions of ‘Evelina’ had consisted of 800, 500, and 1,000 copies; and a fourth edition had been published in the summer of 1779. The first edition of ‘Cecilia’ was of 2,000 copies, which were all sold in three months (Diary and Letters, i. 175 and vi. 66). She was now introduced to her admirer, Burke, who had praised her second work with an enthusiasm all but unqualified. Miss Burney had already been introduced to Mrs. Montagu, the female Mæcenas of the day; and her acquaintance was now (January 1783) sought by the venerable Mrs. Delany. In 1785 George III. assigned to Mrs. Delany a house at Windsor and a pension of 300l. a year. The Streatham household had been broken up after the death of Mr. Thrale; his widow’s marriage (1784) to Piozzi led to a coolness between the friends, and Miss Burney attached herself to Mrs. Delany. Though always on good terms with her father and his wife, their affection seems to have been of the kind which is not cooled by absence and therefore, doubtless, does not dread separation. She helped Mrs. Delany to settle at Windsor, and there she was seen by the royal family, who were constantly dropping in at Mrs. Delany’s house. She soon received the offer of an appointment to be second keeper of the robes, under Madame Schwellenberg. She was to have 200l. a year, a footman, and to dine at Madame Schwellenberg’s table. After many misgivings she accepted the offer, partly in the belief that she would be able to serve her father. She was assured that there were ‘thousands of candidates of high birth and rank,’ and her appointment was regarded as matter for the warmest congratulation by Dr. Burney, Mrs. Delany, and her acquaintance generally. She accordingly entered upon her service 17 July 1786. A desire to compensate Dr. Burney for his failure in an application for the mastership of the king’s band was probably one cause of the appointment. Her misgivings were amply fulfilled. Her duties were menial—those, in fact, of a lady’s maid. She attended the queen’s toilette three times a day, and spent much of the intervening time in looking after her own clothes. She rose early and went to bed late. She dined with Madame Schwellenberg, whom she describes as coarse, tyrannical, and ill-tempered. She was rarely permitted to see her friends, and her society was that of the backstairs of a court, a ‘weary, lifeless uniformity,’ relieved by petty scandal and squabbles. She always speaks of the king, the queen, and all the royal family with a fervent loyalty which verges, to say the least of it, upon adulation. But the queen, though kindly in intention, was a rigid upholder of etiquette, and Miss Burney, whose health was not strong, suffered under rules which sometimes kept her for hours upon trembling legs. Her diary, during her confinement to the court, is lively and interesting, especially the descriptions of the impeachment of Warren Hastings; of the scenes during the king’s attack of insanity in 1788-9; and of various details of the domestic life of royalty during the courtly progresses. Of the fictitious names in the diary, Mr. Turbulent means La Guiffardière, French reader to the queen and princesses; Miss P. is Miss Port (afterwards Mrs. Waddington); Colonel Welbred is Colonel Greville; Colonel Fairly is the Hon. Stephen Digby, who lost his first wife, a daughter of Lord Ilchester, in 1787, and married Miss Gunning, called in the diary Miss Fuzilier, in January 1790. Colonel Digby talked poetry and religious sentiment to Miss Burney, who appears to have had a tender feeling for him, and to have been annoyed at his marriage. Her health became worse as time went on; her friends heard rumours of her decline; she confided at last to her father her desire to resign, and he seemed to admit the necessity, yet hesitated long, till there arose a general ‘outcry in their own little world’ (Memoirs of Dr. Burney, iii. 112). Windham declared that he would ‘set the literary club’ upon him to hasten his resolution; Boswell swore that all her friends were growing ‘outrageous;’ Reynolds, ‘all the Burkes,’ and even Horace Walpole protested against her seclusion; and at last, at the close of 1790, she entreated the queen’s permission to retire in a humble memorial delivered with much trembling. After ‘a scene almost horrible’ with Madame Schwellenberg and long negotiations, she was at last permitted to retire, 7 July 1791, with a pension of 100l. a year. Miss Burney travelled for some time through different parts of England, and her health improved. Her sister Susanna (now Mrs. Phillips) was living at this time at Mickleham, close to Norbury Park, which belonged to the Lockes, old friends of the Burney family. Some of the French refugees had settled in Juniper Hall, in the immediate neighbourhood. M. de Narbonne and General d’Arblay lived there and were visited by Madame de Stael and Talleyrand. Miss Burney speedily became attached to General d’Arblay, who had been a comrade of Lafayette’s, and was with him at the time of his arrest by the Prussians. They were married 31 July 1793, at Mickleham, the ceremony being repeated next day at the catholic chapel of the Sardinian embassy. Their whole fortune was Madame d’Arblay’s pension of 100l. a year; and Dr. Burney, though protesting on prudential grounds and declining to be present at the marriage, gave a reluctant consent. The married pair settled at the village of Bookham, within reach of Norbury, and lived with great frugality, which was more imperative on the birth of a son, Alexander. Towards the end of 1794 Madame d’Arblay tried to improve her income by bringing out a tragedy, ‘Edwy and Elvina,’ the rough draught of which had been finished at Windsor August 1790. It was performed at Drury Lane 21 March 1795; but in spite of the acting of Mrs. Siddons and Kemble it failed and was withdrawn after the first night. She also published a brief and stilted address to the ladies of Great Britain in behalf of the French emigrant priests, but judiciously declined to edit a weekly anti-Jacobin paper to be called the ‘Breakfast Table,’ which had been projected by Mrs. Crewe. Another scheme was at least more profitable. She published by subscription the novel of ‘Camilla,’ in 1796; and in pursuance of a suggestion once made by Burke, the lists were kept by ladies instead of booksellers, the dowager duchess of Leinster, Mrs. Boscawen, Mrs. Crewe, and Mrs. Locke. Three months after the publication, 500 copies only remained of 4,000, and Macaulay gives a rumour that she cleared 3,000 guineas by the sale. Burke sent her a banknote for 20l., saying that he took four copies for himself, Mrs. Burke, and also for the brother and son whom he had recently lost. Miss Austen was another subscriber. The book was a literary failure, like all her works after ‘Cecilia;’ but it brought in profit enough to enable her to build a cottage, called Camilla Cottage from its origin, on a piece of land belonging to Mr. Locke, at West Humble, close to Mickleham, whither she removed in 1797. A comedy called ‘Love and Fashion’ was accepted by the manager of Covent Garden, but withdrawn, in deference to her father’s anxieties, in 1800. In 1801 M. d’Arblay returned to France and endeavoured to get employment. He offered to serve in the expedition to St. Domingo; but his appointment was cancelled upon his attempting to make a condition that he should never be called upon to serve against England. He was placed en retraite with a pension of 1,500 francs. In 1802 his wife and child joined him in Paris, where, in 1805, he also obtained a small civil employment, and they passed ten years at Passy, during which communication with England was almost entirely interrupted by the war, and few memorials of Madame d’Arblay are preserved. In 1812 Madame d’Arblay obtained permission to return to England with her son, who was now reaching the age at which he would become liable to the conscription. She arrived, after much difficulty and some risks, in August 1812, to find her father broken down in health, and attended him affectionately till his death, at the age of 86, in April 1814. At the beginning of the same year she published her last novel, the ‘Wanderer,’ already begun in 1802, for which she was to receive 1,500l. in a year and a half, and 3,000l. on the sale of 8,000 copies. She says that 3,600 copies were sold at the ‘rapacious price’ of two guineas. The book was apparently never read by anybody. Upon the fall of Napoleon, M. d’Arblay was restored to his old rank and appointed to a company in the corps de garde. Madame d’Arblay rejoined him at Paris; and upon the return of Napoleon from Elba she retired to Belgium, and was in Brussels during the battle of Waterloo, where her adventures, graphically described in the diary, were perhaps turned to account by Thackeray in the corresponding passages of ‘Vanity Fair.’ M. d’Arblay had meanwhile received an appointment to endeavour to raise a force of refugees at Trèves. Here Madame d’Arblay rejoined him after the battle to find that he had been seriously injured by the kick of a horse. He recovered, but was incapacitated for active service and was placed, contrary to his own wishes, upon half-pay. Madame d’Arblay passed the rest of her life in England. Her journals give us few incidents except a lively account of her narrow escape from drowning at Ilfracombe in 1817. Her husband died on 3 May 1818. Her son was elected to a Tancred studentship at Christ’s College, Cambridge; was tenth wrangler in 1818; was ordained deacon in 1818, priest in 1819; was nominated minister of Ely chapel in 1836, and died of a rapid decline 19 Jan. 1837. Madame d’Arblay’s last literary employment was the preparation for the press of the memoirs of her father, which appeared in 1832. The book is disfigured by an elaborate affectation of style and is singularly vague in dates; but it contains much interesting matter and many fragments of letters and diaries, full of vivacious description. She had a severe illness, with spectral illusions, in November 1839, and died at the age of 87 on 6 Jan. 1840. Five volumes of her Letters and Diaries’ were published in 1842, and two more in 1846. Madame d’Arblay’s ‘Memoirs of Dr. Burney’ and her diary were attacked with great bitterness by Croker in the ‘Quarterly Review’ for April 1833 and June 1842. The pith of the first article is an accusation (repeated in the second) against Madame d’Arblay (then 80 years old) of having intentionally suppressed dates in order to give colour to a report that ‘Evelina’ was written at the age of 17. Croker had taken the trouble to inspect the register of baptisms at Lynn, and announced his success with spiteful exultation. Macaulay retorted fiercely in the ‘Edinburgh Review’ for January 1843; and the accusation is examined at great length by the last editor of ‘Evelina.’ It is petty enough. Miss Burney was 25 when ‘Evelina’ appeared, the composition of which, from her account, occupied a considerable period. Her friends clearly made a great point of her youthfulness at the time. Mrs. Thrale and Johnson compared her performance with Pope’s ‘Windsor Forest,’ the first part of which (according to Pope himself) was written at the age of 16, and was finished at 25. Miss Burney accepted this (amidst much more) admiration. The belief, if it really existed, that ‘Evelina’ was composed at the age of 17 was probably due to an identification of the author with the heroine. It does not appear, however, that any definite report of the kind existed, or was sanctioned by Miss Burney, and if, at the age of 80, she had become vague about dates of her youth, the circumstance is not inexplicable. There can be no doubt that the charm of ‘Evelina’ was due in part to the youthfulness of the author. It represents, in fact, the spontaneous impressions of a girl of great vivacity and powers of observation upon entering the society of which she caught glimpses in the house of her father. The second more elaborate and didactic novel, ‘Cecilia,’ is heavier, and the style generally shows signs of deterioration. There are traces of an imitation of Johnson, which gave rise to a false report that he had corrected it himself (Diary, 4 Nov. 1802). The later novels are now unreadable; and in the ‘Memoirs of Dr. Burney’ she adopted a peculiar magniloquence which may be equally regarded as absurd or as delicious. The earlier novels mark a distinct stage in our literature. The form of ‘Evelina’ is adapted from Richardson’s plan of a fictitious correspondence; but its best passages are in the vein of light comedy, and, unlike her predecessor, she is weak in proportion as she attempts a deeper treatment. She gave in turn the first impulse to the modern school of fiction which aims at a realistic portrait of society and remains within the limits of feminine observation and feminine decorum. She was, in some degree, a model to the most successful novelists in the next generation. Miss Edgworth (b. 1767) and Miss Austen (b. 1775), the last of whom took the title of her first novel, ‘Pride and Prejudice,’ from the last pages of ‘Cecilia,’ and speaks with admiration of Miss Burney in a remarkable passage in ‘Northanger Abbey.’ Madame d’Arblay’s diary is now more interesting than her novels. The descriptions of Mr. Thrale and Johnson and Boswell himself rival Boswell’s own work; and the author herself with her insatiable delight in compliments—certainly such as might well turn her head—her quick observation and lively garrulity, her effusion of sentiment, rather lively than deep but never insincere, her vehement prejudices corrected by flashes of humour, is always amusing; nor to some readers is even the fine writing of the ‘Memoirs of Dr. Burney’ without its charm.
The following is excerpted from A Cyclopædia of Female Biography, published 1857 by Groomsbridge and Sons and edited by Henry Gardiner Adams.
ARBLAY, MADAME D’, Better known to the world as Frances Burney, was the second daughter of Dr. Burney, author of a “History of Music.” She was born at Lyme Regis, in the county of Norfolk, on the 13th. of June, 1762. Her father was organist at Lynn, but in 1760 he removed to London, his former residence; where he numbered among his familiar friends Garrick, Barry the artist, the poets Mason and Armstrong, and other celebrated characters.
Fanny, though at the age of eight she did not know her letters, yet was shrewd and observant; and as soon as she could read, commenced to scribble. At fifteen she had written several tales, unknown to any one but her sister.
The only regular instruction she ever received, was when she was, together with her sister Susanna, placed for a short period at a boarding-school in Queen Square, that they might be out of the way daring their mother’s last illness; and when the melancholy tidings of this lady’s death were communicated to them, the agony of Frances, though then but nine years of age, was so great that the governess declared she had never met with a child of such intense feelings.
But though she received little regular education, there was no want of industry and application on her part; for, at an early age, she became acquainted with the best authors in her father’s library, of which she had the uncontrolled range; and she was accustomed to write extracts from, and remarks upon, the books she read, some of which, it is said, would not have disgraced her maturer judgment.
She had also the advantage of the example of her father’s own industry and perseverance, to stimulate her to exertion; for Dr. Burney, notwithstanding his numerous professional engagements as a teacher of music, studied and acquired the French and Italian languages on horseback, from pocket grammars and vocabularies he had written out for the purpose.
In the French language his daughter Frances received some instructions from her sister Susanna, who was educated in France; and in Latin, at a later period, she had some lessons from Dr. Johnson himself, though it must be confessed, she does not seem to have taken much delight in this study—applying to that learned language rather to please her tutor than herself. Dr. Burney had, at the period of her youth, a large circle of intellectual and even literary acquaintance, and at his house often congregated an agreeable but miscellaneous society, including, besides many eminent for literature, several accomplished foreigners, together with native artists and scientific men; and his children, emancipated from the restraints of a school-room, were allowed to be present at, and often to take a share in the conversation of their father’s guests; by which their minds were opened, their judgments enlightened, and their attention turned to intellectual pursuits; perhaps in a far greater degree than if they had regularly undergone all the drudgery of the usual routine of what is termed “education.”
Dr. Burney was at this period accustomed to employ his daughters in copying out his manuscripts for the press, tracing over and over again the same page, with the endless alterations his critical judgment suggested. Upon these occasions Frances was his principal amanuensis, and thus she became early initiated in all the mysteries of publication, which was of much advantage to her when she began to write for the press.
At seventeen. Miss Burney wrote “Evelina,” her first published novel, and now considered by good judges her best work; though “Cecilia” is the more highly finished. “Evelina” was published in 1778, and soon became popular in London. Its author did not long remain unknown, and Miss Burney attained a celebrity few young novel-writers have ever enjoyed. She was introduced to Dr. Johnson, and speedily gained an enviable place in his favour. He appreciated very justly, both her abilities and moral excellence.
Miss Burney’s next publication was “Cecilia,” which work called forth an eulogium from the celebrated Mr. Burke.
In a few years after this, Miss Burney, through the favourable representations made concerning her by her venerable friend Mrs. Delany, was invited to accept a place ‘in the household of queen Charlotte. A popular writer thus sketches the result, and the subsequent events of her chequered life:—
“The result was, that in 1786 our authoress was appointed second keeper of the robes to queen Charlotte, with a salary of £200 a-year, a footman, apartments in the palace, and a coach between her and her colleague. The situation was only a sort of splendid slavery. ‘I was averse to the union,’ said Miss Burney, ‘and I endeavoured to escape it; but my friends interfered—they prevailed—and the knot is tied.’ The queen appears to have been a kind and considerate mistress; but the stiff etiquette and formality of the court, and the unremitting attention which its irksome duties required, rendered the situation peculiarly disagreeable to one who had been so long flattered and courted by the brilliant society of her day. Her colleague, Mrs. Schwellenberg, a coarse-minded, jealous, disagreeable German favorite, was also a perpetual source of annoyance to her; and poor Fanny at court was worse off than her heroine Cecilia was in choosing among her guardians. Her first official duty was to mix the queen’s snuff, and keep her box always replenished, after which she was promoted to the great business of the toilet, helping her majesty off and on with her dresses, and being in strict attendance from six or seven in the morning till twelve at night! From this grinding and intolerable destiny Miss Burney was emancipated by her marriage, in 1793, with a French refugee officer, the Count D’Arblay. She then resumed her pen, and in 1795 produced a tragedy, entitled ‘Edwin and Elgitha,’ which was brought’ out at Dmry Lane, and possessed at least one novelty—there were three bishops among the dramatis personæ. Mrs Siddons personated the heroine, but in the dying scene, where the lady is brought from behind a hedge to expire before the audience, and is afterwards carried once more to the back of the hedge, the house was convulsed with laughter! Her next effort was her novel of ‘Camilla,’ which she published by subscription, and realized by it no less than three thousand guineas. In 1802 Madame D’Arblay accompanied her husband to Paris. The count joined the army of Napoleon, and his wife was forced to remain in France till 1812, when she returned and purchased, from the proceeds of her novel, a small but handsome villa, named Camilla Cottage. Her success in prose fiction urged her to another trial, and in 1814 she produced ‘The Wanderer,’ a tedious tale in five volumes, which had no other merit than that of bringing the authoress the large sum of £1500. The only other literary labour of Madame D’Arblay was a memoir of her father. Dr. Burney, published in 1832. Her husband and her son, (the Rev. A. D’Arblay, of Camden Town chapel, near London,) both died before her—the former in 1818, and the latter in 1837. Three years after this last melancholy bereavement, Madame D’Arblay herself paid the debt of nature, dying at Bath, in January, 1840, at the great age of eighty-eight. Her ‘Diary of Letters’ edited by her niece, were published in 1842, in five volumes. If judiciously condensed, this work would have been both entertaining and valuable; but at least one half of it is filled up with small unimportant details of private gossip, and the self-admiring weakness of the authoress shines out in almost every page. The early novels of Miss Burney form the most pleasing memorials of her name and history. In them we see her quick in discernment, lively in invention, and inimitable, in her own way, in portraying the humours and oddities of English society. Her good sense and correct feeling are more remarkable than her passion. Her love scenes are prosaic enough, but in ‘showing up’ a party of ‘vulgarly genteel’ persons, painting the characters in a drawing-room, or catching the follies and absurdities that float on the surface of fashionable society, she has rarely been equalled. She deals with the palpable and familiar; and though society has changed since the time of ‘Evelina,’ and the glory of Ranelagh and Mary-le-bone Gardens has departed, there is enough of real life in her personages, and real morality in her lessons, to interest, amuse, and instruct. Her sarcasm, drollery and broad humour, must always be relished.”