A Simple Story

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by Mrs. Inchbald


  PREFACE.

  It is said, _a book should be read with the same spirit with which ithas been written._ In that case, fatal must be the reception of this--forthe writer frankly avows, that during the time she has been writing it,she has suffered every quality and degree of weariness and lassitude,into which no other employment could have betrayed her.

  It has been the destiny of the writer of this Story to be occupiedthroughout her life, in what has the least suited either her inclinationor capacity--with an invincible impediment in her speech, it was her lotfor thirteen years to gain a subsistence by public speaking--and, withthe utmost detestation to the fatigue of inventing, a constitutionsuffering under a sedentary life, and an education confined to thenarrow boundaries prescribed her sex, it has been her fate to devote atedious seven years to the unremitting labour of literaryproductions--whilst a taste for authors of the first rank has been anadditional punishment, forbidding her one moment of those self-approvingreflections, which are assuredly due to the industrious. But, alas! inthe exercise of the arts, industry scarce bears the name of merit. Whatthen is to be substituted in the place of genius? GOOD FORTUNE. And ifthese volumes should be attended by the good fortune that hasaccompanied her other writings, to that divinity, and that alone, sheshall attribute their success.

  Yet, there is a _first cause_ still, to whom I cannot here forbear tomention my obligations.

  The Muses, I trust, will pardon me, that to them I do not feel myselfobliged--for, in justice to their heavenly inspirations, I believe theyhave never yet favoured me with one visitation; but sent in theirdisguise NECESSITY, who, being the mother of Invention, gave me allmine--while FORTUNE kindly smiled, and was accessory to the cheat.

  But this important secret I long wished, and endeavoured to conceal; yetone unlucky moment candidly, though unwittingly, divulged it--I franklyowned, "That Fortune having chased away Necessity, there remained noother incitement to stimulate me to a labour I abhorred." It happened tobe in the power of the person to whom I confided this secret, to sendNECESSITY once more. Once more, then, bowing to its empire, I submit tothe task it enjoins.

  This case has something similar to a theatrical anecdote told (I think)by Colly Cibber:

  "A performer of a very mean salary, played the Apothecary in Romeo andJuliet so exactly to the satisfaction of the audience, that this littlepart, independent of the other characters, drew immense houses wheneverthe play was performed. The manager in consequence, thought it butjustice to advance the actor's salary; on which the poor man (who, likethe character he represented, had been half starved before) began tolive so comfortably, he became too plump for the part; and being of noimportance in any thing else, the manager of course now whollydischarged him--and thus, actually reducing him to the want of a piece ofbread, in a short time he became a proper figure for the part again."

  Welcome, then, thou all-powerful principle, NECESSITY! THOU, who art theinstigator of so many bad authors and actors--THOU, who from my infancyseldom hast forsaken me, still abide with me. I will not complain of anyhardship thy commands require, so thou dost not urge my pen toprostitution. In all thy rigour, oh! do not force my toil to libels--orwhat is equally pernicious--panegyric on the unworthy!

  A SIMPLE STORY.

 

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