make her wiser, and deservedly happy in the end.  A heroine like this, cannot but lay her historian under much disadvantage; for tho’ such an example may afford lessons of prudence, yet how can we greatly interest ourselves in the fortune of one, whose character and conduct are neither amiable nor infamous, and which we can neither admire, nor love, nor pity, nor be diverted with?  Great spirit in the writer, and uncommon beauties in the expression, are certainly necessary to supply the deficiency of such a barren foundation."[11] Neither of the latter qualities was at the command of the “female pen” that composed “Betsy Thoughtless,” but in spite of the handicap imposed by the plan of her work and the deficiencies of her genius, she produced a novel at once realistic and readable.  Without resorting to the dramatic but inherently improbable plots by which Richardson made his writings at once “the joy of the chambermaids of all nations"[12] and something of a laughing stock to persons capable of detecting their absurdities, Mrs. Haywood preserved his method of minute fidelity to actual life and still made her book entertaining to such a connoisseur of fiction as Lady Mary Wortley Montagu.[13]Though rarely mentioned with entire approbation, “Betsy Thoughtless” was widely read for fifty years after its publication,[14] and undoubtedly deserves its place among the best of the minor novels collected in Harrison’s “Novelist’s Library.”

In the same useful repertory of eighteenth century fiction is the second of Mrs. Haywood’s domestic novels, only less famous than its predecessor.  Like her earlier effort, too, “The History of Jemmy and Jenny Jessamy” (1753) contains a great number of letters quoted at full length, though the narrative is usually retarded rather than developed by these effusions.  Yet all the letters, together with numerous digressions and inserted narratives, serve only to fill out three volumes in twelves.  To readers whose taste for fiction has been cloyed by novels full of incident, movement, and compression, nothing could be more maddening than the leisurely footpace at which the story drags its slow length along.  No wonder, then, that Scott recorded his abhorrence of the “whole Jemmy and Jenny Jessamy tribe,” while to Coleridge and Thackeray “Jemmy Jessamy stuff” was a favorite synonym for the emotional inane.[15] But Mrs. Haywood made no pretense of interesting such readers.  In the running fire of comment on the narrative contained in the lengthy chapter headings she confesses that her book “treats only on such matters as, it is highly probable, some readers will be apt to say might have been recited in a more laconick manner, if not totally omitted; but as there are others, the author imagines much the greater number, who may be of a different opinion, it is judged proper that the majority should be obliged.”  She has no hesitation either in recommending parts of the story that “cannot fail of giving an agreeable sensation to every honest and good-natured reader,”