The Wit of Women

There were many literary Englishwomen who had undoubted humor. Hannah More did get unendurably poky, narrow, and solemn in her last days, and not a little sanctimonious; and we naturally think of her as an aged spinster with black mitts, corkscrew curls, and a mob cap, always writing or presenting a tedious tract, forgetting her brilliant youth, when she was quite good enough, and lively, too. She was a perennial favorite in London, meeting all the notables; the special pet of Dr. Johnson, Davy Garrick, and Horace Walpole, who called her his “holy Hannah,” but admired and honored her, corresponding with her through a long life. She was then full of spirit and humor and versatile talent. An extract from her sister’s lively letter shows that Hannah could hold her own with the Ursa Major of literature:

“Tuesday evening we drank tea at Sir Joshua’s with Dr. Johnson. Hannah is certainly a great favorite. She was placed next him, and they had the entire conversation to themselves. They were both in remarkably high spirits. It was certainly her lucky night. I never heard her say so many good things. The old genius was extremely jocular, and the young one very pleasant. You would have imagined we had been at some comedy had you heard our peals of laughter. They, indeed, tried which could pepper the highest, and it is not clear to me that the lexicographer was really the highest seasoner.”

And how deliciously does she set out the absurdity then prevailing, and seen now in editions of Shakespeare and Chaucer, of writing books, the bulk of which consists of notes, with only a line or two at the top of each page of the original text.

It seems that a merry party at Dr. Kennicott’s had each adopted the name of some animal. Dr. K. was the elephant; Mrs. K., dromedary; Miss Adams, antelope; and H. More, rhinoceros.

“HAMPTON, December 24, 1728.

“DEAR DROMY (a): Pray, send word if Ante

(b) is come, and also how Ele (c) does, to your

very affectionate RHYNEY” (d).

The following notes on the above epistle are by a commentator of the latter end of the nineteenth century. This epistle is all that is come down to us of this voluminous author, and is probably the only thing she ever wrote that was worth preserving, or which might reasonably expect to reach posterity. Her name is only presented to us in some beautiful hendecasyllables written by the best Latin poet of his time (Bishop Lowth):

Note (_a_).

“Dromy.—From the termination of this address it

seems to have been written to a woman, though there is

no internal evidence to support this hypothesis. The

best critics are much puzzled about the orthography of

this abbreviation. Wartonius and other skilful

etymologists contend that it ought to be spelled

drummy, being addressed to a lady who was probably

fond of warlike instruments, and who had a singular

predilection for a canon. Drummy, say they, was a

tender diminutive of drum, as the best authors in their

more familiar writings now begin to use gunny for gun.

But Hardius, a contemporary critic, contends, with

more probability, that it ought to be written Drome,

from hippodrome; a learned leech and elegant bard of

Bath having left it on record that this lady spent much

of her time at the riding-school, being a very

exquisite judge of horsemanship. Colmanus and

Horatius Strawberryensis insist that it ought to be

written Dromo, in reference to the Dromo Sorasius of

the Latin dramatist.”

Note (_b_).

“Ante.—Scaliger 2d says this name simply signifies

the appellation of uncle’s wife, and ought to be

written Aunty. But here, again, are various readings.

Philologists of yet greater name affirm that it was

meant to designate pre-eminence, and therefore ought

to be written ante, before, from the Latin, a

language now pretty well forgotten, though the authors

who wrote in it are still preserved in French

translations. The younger Madame Dacier insists that

this lady was against all men, and that it ought to be

spelled anti; but this Kennicotus, a rabbi of the

most recondite learning, with much critical wrath,

vehemently contradicts, affirming it to have been