PREFACE.
“The fille de chambre,” cried
Mr. Puffendorf, the other day, as
he took up the title page of my manuscript
(for, to own the truth, he caught me scribling:)
“Why, surely Madam, you do
not think of troubling the Public with the
adventures of so insignificant a character?”
I smiled, for I knew my good friend
Puffendorf imagined worth and virtue entirely
connected with birth, rank and fortune,
and that the actions of an obscure
individual, possessed of neither of these advantages,
could not for a moment be
worthy attention. There was something
in my smile that rather offended him, so,
without waiting for an answer, he thus
proceeded:
“You are the strangest woman upon
earth! You pretend to blend in your writings
both instruction and amusement;
but, in the name of common sense, what
instruction can be drawn from the life of
an Abigail? Why, the whole must be a
series of intrigue, low wit, and frivolity.”
“Then, Sir, you must suppose she lives
with people in very exalted stations, and
I write their memoirs, not her's.”
“No, Madam, no, I suppose no such
thing; for then your work might be
worth reading. Persons of high birth are
as different from their inferiors, in their
sentiments and manners, as you can possibly
imagine.”
“I grant it, Sir, yet I hope you will
allow, that the inferior in fortune is often
the superior in every other qualification.”
“Madam! Madam!” cried he, striking
the table in a passion, “you are enough to
drive a man mad.”
“Do not mistake me,” I replied, mildly;
“I do not mean to insinuate, that virtue,
sense, or honour, are confined to any
particular station in life. I am fully sensible,
that there are many exalted characters
in this happy nation, whose amiable
conduct, more than their elevated rank,
render them objects of universal adoration:
but, at the same time, you must
give me leave to add, that the number is
but very few, when compared to the arrogant,
the trifling, and the profligate, who
form so large a part of our people of fashion
Virtue will appear amiable, tho'
habited in the garb of poverty: and a
woman may be an interesting character,
tho' placed in the humblest walks of life,
and possessing no other recommendations
than a feeling heart, and a strong sense of
her duties, both moral and religious.
Such a character is my FILLE DE CHAMBRE,
the true child of nature; and as such you
must not expect to read of wonderful discoveries,
of titles, rank and wealth, being
unexpectedly heaped upon her. The
only claim she will have upon your attention,
shall be her integrity and innocence.”
“It will never do,” said he, “take my
word for it; you will never get five shillings
for your manuscript.”
“I shall try it, however,” said I, as
he went snarling down stairs; “nor shall
splendor ever with me be a veil to cover
guilt; vice and folly are fair game where-ever
they appear, and cannot be too
much held up to ridicule and abhorrence;
nor shall meek-eyed virtue be suffered to
sink to oblivion; wherever she dwells she
shall be greeted with smiles of approbation,
while the veil of humility shall be
withdrawn from her heavenly countenance,
that all may behold her transcendent beauties,
and, with a degree of glorious enthusiasm,
follow her faithful votaries.”
