| 
 |  |  |  
 
         
          
          
          | Purinton, Marjean D. 'The Pedagological Plays of Hannah More, Jane Austen, and
                Joanna Baillie: Ways of Teaching Dramas by Women Playwrights
                around 1800.' British Women Playwrights around 1800. 15 February 2005. 13 pars. <http://www.etang.umontreal.ca/bwp1800/teaching/purinton_plays.html>  
 
 |   
          | Copyright © Contributor, 2005-2008. This essay
              is protected under the copyright laws of the United States and
              the Universal Copyright Convention. Publication (print or electronic)
              or commercial use of any of the copyrighted materials without direct
              authorization from the copyright holder is strictly prohibited.  
 |  
        
        | 
          
            | 1. | As scholars and teachers of Romantic literature, we well understand that the
              period’s educational revolution staged consciousness-raising about
              the gender bias operative in its prevailing theories and practices
              of instruction. Educational change during the period came slowly,
              however, as the 1836 short story “The History of a Child,” Letitia
              Elizabeth Landon’s young female persona observes ways in which
              she was short-changed by an educational system that devalued women:
              “I was a clever, very clever child, but my mind was far beyond
              my years, and it lacked the knowledge which alone can teach us
              how to use it powers.”(1)  L.E.L.’s persona demonstrates that pedagogical
              praxis had not applied to female education the radically innovative
              changes championed by its discourses. It is the male respondent
              in Maria Edgeworth’s 1795 Letters for Literary Ladies, who claims
              that female education should cultivate the general powers of the
              mind so as to give women early “the habit of industry and attention,
              the love of knowledge, and the power of reasoning: these will enable
              [them] to attend to excellent in any pursuit to which [they] may
              direct [their] talents.”2 The
              often quoted passage of Mary Wollstonecraft’s A Vindication of
              the Rights of Woman (1792) points out male privilege in pedagogy
              against which women vainly struggled: “The education of women has,
              of late, been more attended to than formerly; yet they are still
              reckoned a frivolous sex, and ridiculed or pitied by the writers
              who endeavour by satire or instruction to improve them.”3 Clever
              women of the period, it seems, like L.E.L.’s persona, would need
              to seek less conventional ways to instruct women and to offer alternative
              ways of thinking and being to that which was inculcated by late
              eighteenth- and early nineteenth-century patriarchy. |  
            | 2. | In our own pedagogical preparations of Romantic-period materials, we have come
              to recognize thoughtfully, regard critically, and teach regularly
              the pedagogical, and in some instances didactic, nature of eighteenth-
              and nineteenth-century discourses, particularly those addressing
              the emergent middle class, the working classes, and women. We have
              also come to see the vital role played by British women playwrights
              ever mindful of the limitations and obstacles of female education.
              Recent work on Romantic drama by women has moreover considered
              its pedagogical contribution to the period’s revolution in educational
              theories and practices, as well as dramaturgical and literary histories,
              nation and empire building, gender and familial dynamics. In an
              article entitled “Revising Romanticism by Inscripting Women Playwrights”
              that I wrote for Romanticism on the Net in 1998, I made the claim
              that our understandings of Romanticism were significantly enriched
              by the recovery and accessibility of late eighteenth- and early nineteenth-century dramas by women.4 Since 1998, we have, in fact, witnessed
              paradigmatic changes in Romantic-period studies as a result of
              including dramas by women in our scholarship and in our classes. |  
            | 3. | Newly published editions of Romantic drama, including that written by women,
              as well as the hypertexts on the website British Women Playwrights
              around 1800 have made it possible for us to integrate Romantic
              drama into our syllabi.5 Finally, we have come to recognize in
              this process that our own pedagogical strategies for presenting
              Romantic women playwrights and their works have been informed by
              the pedagogical nature of the very dramas they penned for reading
              and for production during their day.6 The pedagogical nature of
              women’s drama has impelled me, over the last few years, to become
              more acutely aware of the pedagogical strategies I employ in teaching
              Romantic literature generally and Romantic drama particularly.
              My students’ analyses of the pedagogy in Romantic women’s dramas
              have encouraged them, many of whom are aspiring teachers, to become
              mindful of the multiple venues and practices in which public education
              occurs, not only during the late eighteenth and early nineteenth
              centuries, but today as well. In other words, many Romantic dramas by women engage students at the level
              of meta-pedagogical awareness and discussion. |  
            | 4. | Our efforts at teaching Romantic drama by women will, I predict, increase with
              the addition of this “teaching” section to the website British
              Women Playwrights around 1800, a site already providing hypertexts
              and critical materials. Here we can share the praxis of teaching
              British women playwrights of the period, the practical experiments,
              successes, and insights of individual efforts made manifest for
              collective use, a staging, as it were, of pedagogical performances.
              Here the pedagogical aspirations for which many Romantic women
              playwrights sought have found contemporary restoration and revitalization.
              In this, my own introductory offering to the teaching section of
              British Women Playwrights around 1800, I wish to examine the multifaceted
              pedagogical functions in Hannah More’s juvenile drama “The Search
              After Happiness: A Pastoral Drama for Young Ladies” (1762) and
              Sacred Dramas (1782); Jane Austen’s early dramatic efforts, although
              fragmentary, “The Visit,” “The Mystery,” and “The First Act of
              a Comedy” (1787-1790); and Joanna Baillie’s evangelical drama The Bride (1836). All of
              these plays are explicitly pedagogical, intended for young audiences,
              and latently radical, even as they purport to fulfill conventional
              and Christian purposes. |  
            | 5. | More’s and Baillie’s plays have generally been seen as examples of writing directed
                toward conservative endorsements of patriarchal, Christian authority.
                More’s and Austen’s early experiments with drama have also been
                characterized as exercises in which both writers endeavored to
                discover their appropriately “feminine” voices for their later
                works. But I want to suggest alternative readings of these plays,
                arguing that they reveal important engagements with issues and
                controversies of the day, science and nationalism, class destabilizations,
                and gendered behaviors, for example, which betray a radical ideology.
                Furthermore, I assert that in exploring the pedagogical potential
                of drama, each woman came to realize something about herself,
                about her own “mind,” as L.E.L’s persona expresses it, recognitions
                that are also shared with young, primarily female, audiences
                who are impelled to experience a self-discovery process that
                replicates fictionalized characters of the play as well as the
                women playwrights themselves. These plays draw their young audiences into the meaning-making process
                with their double voiced nature, what Mitzi Myers has identified
                as “cross-writing,” a characteristic of all children’s literature
                that deploys a dialogic mix of older and younger voices, or a
                colloquy between a writer’s past and present selves.”7 In other
                words, whether staged or read to young audiences, these dramas
                address the child reader/performer and the adult reader/spectator
                as well as the child reader/performer and child spectator—meanings
                at multiple levels of reception and understanding. These dramas
                also suggest that women playwrights, even a young Hannah More
                and Jane Austen, were astutely concerned with issues of the day
                and the pedagogical potential inherent in drama, enactments of
                life’s lessons and critical thinking processes. At a metadramatic
                level, furthermore, writing drama serves its own pedagogical
                purpose in its generic demands for the embodiment and the enactment
                of sensitive subject matters that must be rendered legitimate and authorized by women writers. Women playwrights interrupt
                and therefore challenge the demarcation of private and public
                spaces, female and male roles, decorum, and perceptions. Finally,
                I want to suggest some ways in which our own teaching might incorporate
                pedagogical plays of the period written by women as an avenue
                for understanding educational issues and gender dynamics, including
                female authority and agency.  |  
            | 6. | Despite the antitheatrical position of Evangelical Christianity, young Hannah
                More perceived in drama the potential for teaching other women
                like herself attitudes about the promise of expanded sense of
                maternal duty that included philanthropic, educational, and social
                work
                beyond the home. She wrote “The Search After Happiness” as a
                pedagogical pastoral play to be performed at girls’ boarding
                schools, and although
                Sacred Dramas was intended for private readings, it too was performed
                by children at the Park Street girls’ school managed by Hannah
                and her sister. Both Sacred Dramas and “The Search After Happiness”
                deploy gender as a category through which to express the period’s
                preoccupations with the supernatural and science. Cleora’s search
                for happiness leads her to the study of science, which, as she
                explains, seeks to limit her sex to matters of appearance and
                beauty. She boldly ventures into those sciences promoted specifically
                as
                masculine: astronomy, math, philosophy, chemistry, and physics
                and turns away from the conventionally gendered “feminine” sciences—poetical and taxonomical
                botany, for example. She expresses her determination to learn
                about the effects of natural phenomenon, the domain of male science: 
                                  The schoolmen’s systems now my mind employ’d,Their crystal Spheres, their Atoms, and their Void;
 Newton and Halley all my soul inspir’d,
 And numbers less than calculations fir’d;
 Decartes and Euclid, shar’d my varying breast,
 And plans and problems all my soul possess’d.8
 Cleora’s scientific inquiries, however, lead her to “think
                    like a man,” to use science as a vehicle for egotistical self-aggrandizement
                    rather than the means
      through which humankind might be helped and reformed. Importantly, The danger
      that More’s drama depicts is not science, but the application of science
                toward masculinist goals and in male-centered ways.  |  
            | 7. |  The soliloquy “Reflection of King Hezekiah in His Sickness,” an addendum to
                Sacred Dramas, conflates gender with science linked to nationalism,
                as King Hezekiah functions as a synecdoche for a sick and dying
                nation. The diseased body was a metaphoric commonplace in discourses
                about the French Revolution, but here More applies it to the
                national crisis with which Britain was engaged, a diseased body
                in need of female-derived reform as it antidote. Sickness was
                something More knew first-hand as she suffered from headaches,
                toothaches, severe fevers, and delirium throughout her life,
                and so her diseased body metaphor was derived from the period’s
                political discourse and from experiential knowledge of her own
                body. Medicine and quackery, the scientific and the supernatural,
                are conflated in another Sacred Drama “Belshazzar” also displaced
                and articulated through gender. Belshazzar’s weak, feminine leadership
                has been affected by the “magic poppies” of war whose “delicate
                opiates” charm him into “fatal slumbers.”9 When supernatural, mysterious writing appears on the palace wall from a
                shadowy hand, Belshazzar assumes he is hallucinating, dreaming,
                or intoxicated, but then he calls upon his learned magicians
                and sage astrologers to discern the mystic characters. When they
                cannot make legible what is illegible, Belshazzar shouts, “Curse
                on your shallow arts, your lying science!”10 and order their
                executions. Both science and the supernatural are indicted in
                Sacred Dramas as pretending to profess knowledge (culturally
                gendered masculine) that gives power over those who do not possess
                such knowledge (culturally gendered feminine). As science and
                medicine became increasingly professionalized and masculinized
                during the Romantic period, they too became public sites for
                the assertion of male privilege and power, sites that More’s
                dramas cast as provisionally strong, justified, and sanctioned
                by the myths that they generate about themselves.  |  
            | 8. | 
               Sacred Dramas also portray radical assertions of female agency as an essential
                pedagogical force for Great Britain in its national and colonial
                projects. Gender relationships serves as a trope for nationalism
                centered in female connectedness. In the familiar story of “Moses
                in the Bulrushes,” for example, More emphasizes the role that
                the Egyptian princess comes to play in saving the Jewish people
                and nation. This “sacred drama” instructs its young audience
                not to accept a passive and weak femininity, but to act with
                compassion and strength, a role that has the potential to change
                human interactions so that they are more harmonious and less
                destructive. In “David and Goliath,” gender-bending characterization
                of a feminized David facilitates a similar message, for it is
                in the gender-bending spaces where class and national issues
                are staged. Against the background of male engendered war, we
                discover David playing his harp and singing devotionals. When
                David confronts the giant man, Goliath smirks: “Give me a man, if your effeminate band / A man can boast,” for he will not “war
                with boys.”11 David does not allow Goliath’s insulting taunts,
                brute strength, or enormous size to deter his rational and perceptive
                intellect, for ultimately, David out-smarts and out-talks the
                giant. The drama performs gender-bending as a site where gendered
                qualities of leadership might be examined, even though it comes
                up short in its endorsement of domestic leadership, for Saul
                and David themselves fall victims to the imperialist and masculinist
                ideology that their leadership had temporarily suspended. More
                demonstrates to her audience how difficult it is for men to sustain
                an alternative to the powerful status quo, but she nevertheless
                challenges readers and spectators to entertain a different way
                of thinking and behaving.  |  
            | 9. | Joanna Baillie’s Christian drama The Bride was commissioned by Sir Alexander
              Johnston, President of His Majesty’s Council in Ceylon for the
              expressed purpose of civilizing and Christianizing the people of
              Ceylon. In the drama’s Preface, Baillie likens the people of Ceylon
              to children who are being led from ignorance to enlightenment by
              Western discourses such as her play: “To see the mind of a child
              awakening by degrees from the dreamy indistinctness of infancy
              to a clearer observation of what he beholds around, and a capacity
              to compare and to reason on the differences and resemblances he
              perceives, is a most pleasing and interesting sight; so in a far
              greater degree does the rousing a race or nation from its infancy
              of ignorance and delusion, interest and excite every mind of any
              feeling or reflection.”12 |  
            | 10. | The play condemns Ceylon’s practice of polygamy through Artina’s resistance to
              her husband’s second wife, for which she is imprisoned, and an
              alternative marital philosophy espoused by the Spanish physician
              Juan de Creda. De Creda’s Christian message promotes mutual love
              and forgiveness in heterosexual and monogamous relationships. Artina
              is torn between two cultures (Eastern, its associations with heathenism,
              and Western, its associations with European Christianity) that
              seek to define her role in marriage and home. The Bride dramatizes
              Christian ethos, but it also represents the paradigmatic civilizing
              mission that characterized British imperialism of the nineteenth
              century and therefore seems to participate pedagogically in the
              process of British imperialism. More radically, however, The Bride
              acts out oppositional thinking to expose the ways in which British
              imperialism is rooted in an epistemology in which the culture with
              the power, the “truth,” and the resources becomes that which teaches
              and normalizes all others. Baillie’s Preface to The Bride reminds us that the play seeks
              to promote critical thinking so the child-like audience may acquire
              the capacity to compare and contrast ideas, to reason causal relations,
              and, as L.E.L terms it, to use knowledge’s powers. Like the young
              woman who is accidentally unveiled at the beginning of the play,
              a critical reading of the subtext of The Bride that takes into
              account its “cross-writing” and double-voiced qualities, unveils
              the Christian myth as an appealing face whose function is not all
              that it appears. For at least some readers or spectators, The Bride
              points to the potential injuries inflicted on people entrapped
              between cultures, both demanding conformity to one at the expense
              of the other. |  
            | 11. | Recent critical studies by Penny Gay and Paula Byrne entitled Jane Austen and
              the Theatre detail the many ways in which Austen was engaged with
              theatre culture throughout her life, reading diverse dramas, attending
              play productions in London and Bath, participating in the family’s
              private theatricals, and writing experimental drama.13 These studies
              help us to see how much theatre is embedded in Austen’s novels,
              and Austen’s fragmentary dramas reveal her sensitivity to the period’s
              class and colonial issues. She envisioned “The Visit” to be a comedy
              in two acts but completed only two scenes, both of which take place
              at Lord Fitzgerald’s house, where guests discover that there is
              never enough of anything. The beds are too short, and there are
              insufficient chairs to accommodate everyone. For dinner, the Fitzgeralds
              serve food and drink more suited to rustics than the landed gentry.
              This satire on materialism also incorporates bourgeois interest
              in possessing all things oriental. Lord Fitzgerald explains how his grandmother destroyed the hothouse “in order to build a receptable for
              the Turkies with it’s materials.”14 “The Mystery,” another unfinished
              comedy, is set in the home of the Humbugs, the family name being
              an eighteenth-century slang term for someone who practices deception
              or fraud, suggesting that the mystery at the center of the play
              may have something to do with business transactions, family inheritance,
              colonial trade, or property exchanges—including marital arrangements,
              perhaps. The “mystery” of the Humbug household involves some secret
              about a settlement, and while various characters speculate about
              who might tell it, for the audience, it remains unrevealed. The
              setting for “The First Act of a Comedy,” occurs at an inn seven
              miles from London, where we find Chloe en route to the capital
              to marry Strephon and unaware that Strephon occupies another room
              at the inn, having been brought there from Staines, a village seventeen
              miles southwest of London, in order to pay Postilion eighteen pence
              which he owes. Rather than give Postilion a bad guinea, all the currency that
              he has, Strephon offers an undirected letter, one hand-delivered
              and without an address, that he had received from Chloe. As in
              “The Mystery,” the fragmentary “First Act of a Comedy” hints at
              transactions emphasizing exchangeable currencies, for it would
              seem that Strephon will settle his account by passing a woman rather
              than a coin to Postilion. All three of Austen’s fragmentary dramas
              satirically hint at the period’s obsession with “getting and spending,
              “ undeveloped pedagogical warnings for an emergent middle class
              driven by a mercantile economy. |  
            | 12. | How might we integrate pedagogical plays by Hannah More, Jane Austen, and Joanna
              Baillie in our own Georgian and Romantic period courses? How might
              we teach women’s teaching texts—especially to students who are
              themselves undergoing teacher training? Because these dramas are
              short, it is possible to reproduce them or to utilize a small segment
              from the longer plays as complements to other “conduct” discourses
              written during the period. These dramas facilitate the introduction
              of students to units that feature educational discourses and children’s
              literature, something of particular interest to my students pursuing
              elementary and middle school language-arts education certifications.
              The dramas’ double-voiced qualities also help students to discover
              reading strategies useful in interpreting other Romantic texts
              and genres—multiple voices and frameworks of reference, displaced
              and latent content, cross-writing and parody, unreliable storytellers
              and sources of stories. Students enjoy reading these dramas out loud or even enacting them as they might have been performed at girls’ boarding
              schools, with girls cross-dressed for the male parts. Before we
              teach a full-length drama from the period, we might utilize something
              from these dramas as an introduction to the style and function
              of Romantic drama; they effectively “set the stage” for full-length
              plays by women. As we have seen, these dramas also introduce cultural
              interests of the period, science and the supernatural, class and
              colonial issues, nationalism and imperialism, gender dynamics and
              familial relationships, courtship and marriage. These dramas represent
              ways in which education itself was undergoing reforms and changes
              and demonstrate how education was used as a tool and vehicle for
              the inculcation of new ideas and rebellious ideologies. Finally,
              these dramas illustrate ideological and practical obstacles women
              playwrights of the period struggled to overcome, writing dramas
              that radically challenge the gender roles that their dramas seemingly
              and paradoxically reified. |  
            | 13. | While we have often used Romantic women’s nonfiction and fiction as the context
              in which to read dramas by Romantic women playwrights, as I did
              at the beginning of this essay, I suggest that we might find it
              equally enriching to read Romantic drama by women as a context
              in which to examine other genres written by women of the late eighteenth
              and early nineteenth centuries. What a difference might students’
              reading Austen’s fragmentary plays make to their understandings
              of the social satire in her novels? Austen’s fragmentary dramas
              reveal much about the theatricality of her fiction, all her novels
              and not the obvious concerns with the private theatricals in Mansfield
              Park. More’s Strictures on Female Education and Cheap Repository
              Tracts might take on complexities rendered through readings informed
              by her pastoral drama “The Search for Happiness” and her series
              of Sacred Dramas. Baillie’s The Bride enriches and even confounds
              our understandings of the female evangelical tradition from the
              nineteenth century. Students can glean lessons about British commercialism and colonization by
              reading More’s Sacred Dramas and Baillie’s The Bride in the context
              of Elizabeth Inchbald’s play The Egyptian Boy (1790), another pedagogical
              drama by a woman in which national and familial conflicts are played
              out in terms of gender norms and the “othering” process.15 |  
            |  | 
              Marjean PurintonTexas Tech University
 |  
            |  | Notes  1. Letitia Elizabeth Landon, “The History of a Child,” Traits and Trials of Early Life, 1836, in British Literature 1780-1830, ed. Anne K. Mellor and Richard E. Matlak (Boston: Heinle & Heinle, 1996), p. 1398. (back) 1
 2. Maria Edgeworth, Letters for Literary Ladies, 1795 (London:
                  J.M. Dent, 1993), p. 20.
 3. Mary Wollstonecraft, A Vindication of the Rights of Woman, 1792,
                  in The Vindications, ed. D. L. Macdonald and Kathleen Scherf (Peterborough,
                  ON: Broadview, 1997), p. 112.
 4. Marjean D. Purinton, “Revising Romanticism by Inscripting Women
                  Playwrights,” Romanticism on the Net 12 (November 1998) [19 July
                  2004] http://www.erudit.org/revue/ron/1998/v/n12/005822ar.html
 5. In particular, The Broadview Anthology of Romantic Drama, ed.
                  Jeffrey N. Cox and Michael Gamer (Peterborough, ON: Broadview,
                  2003); The Siege of Valencia: A Parallel Text Edition, Felicia
                  Hemans, ed. Susan J. Wolfson and Elizabeth Fay (Peterborough, ON:
                  Broadview, 2002); Plays on the Passions: Joanna Baillie, ed. Peter
                  Duthie (Peterborough, ON: Broadview, 2001); Five Romantic Plays
                  1768-1821, ed Paul Baines and Edward Burns (Oxford: Oxford UP,
                  2000); Female Playwrights of the Nineteenth Century, ed. Adrienne
                  Scullion (London: J.M. Dent, 1996) are affordable paperback editions
                  that make Romantic women playwrights accessible for our students.
 6. See, for example, Marjean D. Purinton, “Pedagogy and Passions:
                  Teaching Joanna Baillie’s Dramas” in Joanna Baillie, Romantic Dramatist:
                  Critical Essays, ed. Thomas C. Crochunis (London: Routledge, 2004),
                  pp. 221-240. This fall, I am teaching a Senior Seminar (the capstone
                  course for English majors) entitled “Literary Communities,” and
                  we will use Baillie’s Plays on the Passions as a “test case” for
                  their suitability in various literary contexts—teaching texts at
                  all levels, performance scripts for community-based or university
                  theatrical presentations, selections for general book clubs, manuscripts
                  worthy of graduate-level scholarship, Women’s Studies historical
                  artifacts, pedagogical models for educators. In other words, I
                  hope that my students will discover that Romantic drama by women
                  had, in its time, as it does potentially today, wide-range uses
                  and appeal for various audiences and cultural contexts.
 7. Mitzi Myers [with U.C. Knoepflmacher], “From the Editors: ‘Cross-Writing’
                  and the Reconceptualizing of Children’s Literary Studies,” Children’s
                  Literature 25 (1997): vii.
 8. Hannah More, “The Search After Happiness: A Pastoral Drama for
                  Young Ladies,” 1762, in The Complete Works of Hannah More (New
                  York: Haper, 1838), p. 114.
 9. Hannah More, “Reflection of King Hezekiah in His Sickness,”
                  1782, in The Complete Works of Hannah More, p. 94.
 10.	Ibid., p. 98.
 11. Hannah More, “David and Goliath,” Sacred Dramas, 1782, in The
                  Complete Works of Hannah More, p. 90.
 12. Joanna Baillie, “Preface,” The Bride, 1836, in The Dramatic
                  and Poetical Works of Joanna Baillie, 2nd ed. (London: Longman,
                  Brown, Green, and Longmans, 1851), p. 665.
 13. See Paula Byrne, Jane Austen and the Theatre (London: Hambledon
                  and London, 2002) and Penny Gay, Jane Austen and the Theatre (Cambridge:
                  Cambridge UP, 2002).
 14. Jane Austen, “The Visit: A Comedy in Two Acts,” 1787-1790,
                  in Minor Works, ed. R.W. Chapman, 1954, revised B.C. Southam (Oxford:
                  Oxford UP, 1975), Act 2, Scene 2, p. 51.
 15. See my forthcoming essay “Teaching Orientalism through British
                  Romantic Drama: Representations of Arabia” in Interrogating Orientalism(s):
                  Theories and Practices, ed. Diane Long Hoeveler and Jeffrey Cass
                (Columbus: Ohio State UP).
 |  |  |  | 
 
 |  |