time in the history of the world as a dominant note of femininity. The sentimentalities of fiction expanded to meet the woman's standard, to satisfy her irrational demands. "If the story-teller had always had mere men for an audience," says an acute English critic, "there would have been no romance; nothing but the improving fable, or the indecent anecdote." It was the woman who, as Miss Seward sorrowfully observed, sucked the "sweet poison" which the novelist administered; it was the woman who stooped conspicuously to the "reigning folly" of the day.
The particular occasion of this outbreak on Miss Seward's part was the extraordinary success of a novel, now long forgotten by the world, but which in its time rivalled in popularity "Evelina," and the well-loved "Mysteries of Udolpho." Its plaintive name is "Emmeline; or the Orphan of the Castle," and its authoress, Charlotte Smith, was a woman of courage, character, and good ability; also of a cheerful temperament, which we should never have surmised from her works. It is said that her son owed his advancement in the East India Com-
