She was a great social personage, but her influence on literature was
not destined to be lasting, because, in spite of foreseeing too much,
she had not the true prophetic sense of proportion, and confused the
things of the present with those of the future--the accidental with
the enduring.

I cannot but think that in this passage Miss Duffy rather underrates
Madame de Stael's influence on the literature of the nineteenth century.
It is true that she gave our literature no new form, but she was one of
those who gave it a new spirit, and the romantic movement owes her no
small debt. However, a biography should be read for its pictures more
than for its criticisms, and Miss Duffy shows a remarkable narrative
power, and tells with a good deal of esprit the wonderful adventures of
the brilliant woman whom Heine termed 'a whirlwind in petticoats.'

* * * * *

Mr. Harcourt's reprint of John Evelyn's Life of Mrs. Godolphin is a
welcome addition to the list of charming library books. Mr. Harcourt's
grandfather, the Archbishop of York, himself John Evelyn's great-great-
grandson, inherited the manuscript from his distinguished ancestor, and
in 1847 entrusted it for publication to Samuel Wilberforce, then Bishop
of Oxford. As the book has been for a long time out of print, this new
edition is sure to awake fresh interest in the life of the noble and
virtuous lady whom John Evelyn so much admired. Margaret Godolphin was
one of the Queen's Maids of Honour at the Court of Charles II., and was
distinguished for the delicate purity of her nature, as well as for her
high intellectual attainments. Some of the extracts Evelyn gives from
her Diary seem to show an austere, formal, almost ascetic spirit; but it
was inevitable that a nature so refined as hers should have turned in
horror from such ideals of life as were presented by men like Buckingham
and Rochester, like Etheridge, Killigrew, and Sedley, like the King
himself, to whom she could scarcely bring herself to speak. After her
marriage she seems to have become happier and brighter, and her early
death makes her a pathetic and interesting figure in the history of the
time. Evelyn can see no fault in her, and his life of her is the most
wonderful of all panegyrics.

* * * * *

Amongst the Maids-of-Honour mentioned by John Evelyn is Frances Jennings,
the elder sister of the great Duchess of Marlborough. Miss Jennings, who
was one of the most beautiful women of her day, married first Sir George
Hamilton, brother of the author of the Memoires de Grammont, and
afterwards Richard Talbot, who was made Duke of Tyrconnel by James II.
William's successful occupation of Ireland, where her husband was Lord
Deputy, reduced her to poverty and obscurity, and she was probably the
first Peeress who ever took to millinery as a livelihood. She had a
dressmaker's shop in the Strand, and, not wishing to be detected, sat in
a white mask and a white dress, and was known by the name of the 'White
Widow.'

I was reminded of the Duchess when I read Miss Emily Faithfull's
admirable article in Gralignani on 'Ladies as Shopkeepers.' 'The most
daring innovation in England at this moment,' says Miss Faithfull, 'is
the lady shopkeeper.