a higher rank than her own circle; but an imperfection in her organs of utterance rendered her averse to society, and she would, in early youth, fly to solitude, and seek, in books, for the amusement she could not enjoy in conversation. The kind of education she received may be gathered from an observation of her own: "It is astonishing how much all girls are inclined to literature, to what boys are. My brother went to school seven years, and could not spell; I, and my two sisters, though we were never taught, could spell from our infancy."
To cure the impediment in her speech she exerted the most persevering efforts, and by repeated trials discovered the way of palliating her defects. She says that she wrote out all the words with which she had any difficulty, carried them constantly about with her, and at last perceived, or fancied she perceived, that stage declamation was favourable to this defect, rather than the reverse.
When sixteen she secretly left her family, prompted by an irrepressible desire to visit London. After escaping many dangers in this rash adventure, she married Mr. Inchbald, of Drury Lane theatre, and was for several years on the stage. Mr. Inchbald died suddenly, in 1779, and left his widow, at twenty-five years of age, entirely dependent on herself for support. She continued on the stage for a time, but left it in 1789, and from that time devoted herself solely to her literary labours. She wrote nineteen dramas, some of which were very successful, and two novels, "The Simple Story," and "Nature and Art," which rank among the standard works in that class of literature; and she edited "The British Theatre," "The Modern Theatre," and a collection of farces. Mrs. Inchbald died August 1st., 1821, aged sixty-seven.
Better than any sentiment contained in her works of fiction are the noble generosity and true Christian self-denial she practised towards her poor, unfortunate sister, whom she supported for many years. The brief notices of her charitable deeds, gathered from letters and the records of her friends, are her best monument. One writer says, "Mrs. Inchbald frequently suffered from the want of fire herself, when it is known that she had enabled others to avail themselves of that necessary of life, and her donations to her sisters and other friends in distress were generous and munificent. To her sister, Mrs. Hunt, she eventually allowed nearly a hundred per annum. At the time when Mrs. Inchbald was her own servant, she writes, 'I have raised her allowance to eighty, but in the rapid strides of her wants, and my obligation as a Christian to make no selfish refusal to the poor, a few months hence, I foresee, must make the sum a hundred.' Again, in 1810, she says, 'I say no to all the vanities of the world, and perhaps soon shall have to say, that I shall allow my poor infirm sister a hundred a year.'
To the last Mrs. Hunt depended on Mrs. Inchbald almost exclusively for support. The following expresses the sentiments of her feeling and affectionate heart, on the receipt of the intelligence that she had no longer a brother or sister in the world. 'To return to my melancholy. Many a time this winter, when I cried with cold, I said to myself—but thank God, my sister has not to stir from her room: she has her fire lighted every morning; all her provisions bought, and brought to her ready cooked: she would be less able to bear what I bear; and how much more should I have to suffer but from this reflection! It almost made me warm,
