Coelebs in Search of a Wife

by Hannah More, Patricia Demers (Editor)

In this, Hannah More’s only novel and an early nineteenth-century best-seller, More gives voice to a wealthy twenty-three-year-old bachelor, who styles himself “Coelebs” (unmarried), but seeks a wife. After the death of his father, Coelebs journeys from the north of England to London, where he encounters a fashionable array of eager mothers and daughters before he visits the Hampshire home of his father’s friend, Mr. Stanley. Lucilla Stanley, Mr. Stanley’s daughter, is both an intellectual and a domestic woman, and Coelebs’ ideal partner. In this intelligent novel about the meeting of two minds, More shows the ways in which a couple becomes truly “matched” as opposed to merely “joined.”

Along with a critical introduction, this Broadview edition includes a wide selection of historical documents, from reviews, imitations, and sequels of Coelebs in Search of a Wife to related contemporary writings on conduct, courtship, and women’s education.

Genres: Fiction, Feminism, British Literature, Classics

452 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1809

About the author

Hannah More was an English religious writer and philanthropist. She can be said to have made three reputations in the course of her long life: as a clever verse-writer and witty talker in the circle of Johnson, Reynolds and Garrick, as a writer on moral and religious subjects on the Puritanic side, and as a practical philanthropist.

Reviews

[Georgie-who-is-Sarah-Drew · Rating 2 out of 5]

Cœlebs is, frankly, unreadable. It's nearly 900 pages of moralising without a discernible plot (at least in modern terms). Moreover, my edition retains the long S which is ſo not eaſy to read at ſpeed. I will not pretend that I have read it from cover to cover. (I may create a GR shelf - 'Sorta-read').

So why bother with the book at all? Well, I embarked on it to get a sense (ſenſe, if you prefer) of what the characters in my WIP (set in 1819) might be influenced by. Cœlebs was a best-seller in its day: first published in 1809, it went through at least 11 reprints in that same year. It's been held responsible in part for the creation of the Domestic Economy and also for setting back the cause of feminism for generations.

Its principal character is an orphaned bachelor, Charles; he wants to find a wife who lives up to the standards set by his mother. The picaresque narrative sees Charles encounter many Miss Not-Quite-Rights; he also has philosophical conversations about the correct educational model for girls with a variety of people–all men, strangely enough. Eventually, he marries Lucilla "Practically Perfect in Every Way" Stanley.
Charles' standards are high: in a passage curiously remiscent of both Benedick and Darcy (see below), he lays out his requirements.

I do not want a Helen, a Saint Cecilia, or a Madame Dacier; yet she must be elegant, or I should not love her; sensible, or I should not respect her; well-informed, or she could not educate my children; well-bred, or she could not entertain my friends; consistent, or I should offend the shade of my mother; pious or I should not be happy with her, because the prime comfort in a companion for life is the delightful hope that she will be a companion for eternity.

I need scarcely point out that this is a vision of Woman as Man's Helpmeet, and be damned to any pesky ideas of female independence. A woman's place, implies More (not at all subtly), is in the home. There’s a strong argument that Cœlebs' success helped promote a view of female subjectivity that leads directly to the Victorian worship of ‘Er Indoors and the cult of the Home. (Not to mention the rise of the middle-class, and the subsequent enrichment of the Glorious British Empire.)

In fairness, I should note that her readers responded positively to More’s insistence on charitable works as a mark of a truly virtuous woman: public debate about how to assist the poor was re-invigorated.

Luckily, other than its pivotal position in defining a restrictive role for women, Cœlebs has a couple of points of real interest for my 1819 characters.
Firstly, the pervasive influence of the Bible. More has, of course, a proselytising religious agenda in mind: Cœlebs is an overtly Christian book (for a given value of Christian = middle-class Church of England). But I think we tend to forget the extent to which the Bible (King James' version) was part of the lingua franca of the time. At the time, church attendance was effectively mandatory. It was almost impossible to hold any kind of office or be in business, or a member of trade guilds etc without taking the Anglican sacrament. So the Bible was the one book that nearly everyone had read / listened to; its stories, its poetry were part of everyone's cultural baggage. Just read any passage of Jane Austen's books and count the biblical echoes and language. [So it wouldn't be at all out of place for my characters unconsciously to weave biblical phrases and cadences in their daily speech.]

The other point is More's belief that a truly virtuous woman will not put herself forward. It's not just that she will restrict her interests to the hearth, but that under no circumstances will she complain.
In a passage that echoes 1 Corinthians 13 (Charity suffereth long... vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up...seeketh not her own / Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things), one of More's female idols explains:

'Of what subject should we talk,' said she, 'but of my husband's faults? Ought I to allow myself in such a practice? It would lead me to indulge a habit of complaint which I am laboring to subdue. ...When we are suffering wrong, the mind ... pours out its sorrows in prayer.'
Then turning to the Bible which lay before her, and pointing to the sublime passage of St Paul, which she had just been reading, 'Our light affliction which is but for a moment worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.'...The affliction is light, and but for a moment; the glory is a weight, and it is forever...Oh, how the scale which contains this world's light trouble kicks the beam, when weighed against the glory which shall be revealed.'

To paraphrase crudely, it's not for women to complain about their lot in this world, because they'll be rewarded in the next. Keep your head down, your mouth shut, and hope for the best when you're dead.

[For my female MC, that means that when she's suffered an appalling injustice, all her upbringing and influences tell her not to do anything about it. It's not a viewpoint that we are used to in the C21st, so the challenge for me is to make my MC relatable but not anachronistic.]

Is Cœlebs worth reading? Honestly, no (at least not unless you're researching the period). Better to check out in the first instance Rachel Knowles' informative blog on Cœlebs here.

Full review and tenuous connection between Cœlebs and Sherlock Holmes on my blog.

Gutenberg has a copy of the text here if you are deſperate to ſee what all the fuſ is about.


PS - "Writing," said Sir John, "to a certain degree is an art, or, if you please, a trade. And as no man is allowed to set up in an ordinary trade till he has served a long apprenticeship to its mysteries , so no man should set up for a writer till he knows somewhat of the mysteries of the art he is about to practice. He may, if he want talents, produce a vapid and inefficient book; but possess what talents he may, he will, without knowledge, produce a crude and indigested one."

PPS - "Cœlebs" is Latin for "unwed".

PPPS - The binomial name for the chaffinch is Fringilla cœlebs. Wikipedia tells me that "Fringilla is the Latin word for finch, while cœlebs means unmarried or single. Linnaeus remarked that during the Swedish winter, only the female birds migrated south through Belgium to Italy." Somehow, I don't think Mrs More would approve of that.

PPPPS - Benedick on why he'll never marry:

Till all graces be in one woman, one woman shall not come in my grace. Rich she shall be, that’s certain; wise, or I’ll none; virtuous, or I’ll never cheapen her; fair, or I’ll never look on her; mild, or come not near me; noble, or not I for an angel; of good discourse, an excellent musician, and her hair shall be of what colour it please God.

PPPPPS - Miss Bingley and Darcy discuss the perfect woman in Pride and Prejudice. I know P&P was first drafted in 1797 before its eventual publication in 1813, but JA revised the original manuscript in 1811-12. I am certain that the following passage must be inspired by Charles' shopping list in Cœlebs:

“It is amazing to me,” said Bingley, “how young ladies can have patience to be so very accomplished as they all are.”

“All young ladies accomplished! My dear Charles, what do you mean?”

“Yes, all of them, I think. They all paint tables, cover screens, and net purses. I scarcely know any one who cannot do all this, and I am sure I never heard a young lady spoken of for the first time, without being informed that she was very accomplished.”

“Your list of the common extent of accomplishments,” said Darcy, “has too much truth. The word is applied to many a woman who deserves it no otherwise than by netting a purse or covering a screen. But I am very far from agreeing with you in your estimation of ladies in general. I cannot boast of knowing more than half a dozen, in the whole range of my acquaintance, that are really accomplished.”

“Nor I, I am sure,” said Miss Bingley.

“Then,” observed Elizabeth, “you must comprehend a great deal in your idea of an accomplished woman.”

“Yes; I do comprehend a great deal in it.”

“Oh! certainly,” cried his faithful assistant, “no one can be really esteemed accomplished who does not greatly surpass what is usually met with. A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages, to deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but half deserved.”

“All this she must possess,” added Darcy, “and to all this she must yet add something more substantial, in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading.”

“I am no longer surprised at your knowing only six accomplished women. I rather wonder now at your knowing any.”

[Rue · Rating 1 out of 5]

I'm never getting those hours of my life back.

[Deborah Markus · Rating 3 out of 5]

I read this book as part of my research toward writing a YA novel set in Regency England. "Coelebs" was a big seller in its time -- Austen certainly read it -- but there's a reason it's more read about than read these days. I give it three stars because it did what it set out to do and I'm not sorry I read it. That said, if you've already read everything Austen wrote and you want something else authentically Regency, I would recommend grabbing something by Fanny Burney rather than Hannah More.

Technically, it's a novel. Really, it's Hannah More using characters to explain her beliefs about women's education and Christianity. I'm interested in both those topics, but even I felt my eyes glazing over now and then. I did like the bits that debated the importance of whether human souls are saved by grace or deeds. More thinks both are necessary. As someone raised Catholic and now a hopeless heathen, I had no problem with this, but apparently it was a rather shocking idea in 18th-century England.

Hannah More was a fascinating woman -- if there isn't a full-length biography of her yet, I'd love to write it someday. She was one of five daughters, and learned Latin and mathematics as part of her thorough education. This was unusual for girls at the time. They might learn French or Italian in order to sound elegant at parties (or to have under their belts in case they needed to become governesses), but Latin and Greek were generally reserved for boys. Hannah's father was a schoolmaster, and had no sons. He educated his daughters, and they all became educators as well.

Hannah taught for a time and from a young age, but she loved writing. She also fell very much in love with a man who eventually jilted her. Perhaps he was worried about her family pressing suit for breach of contract -- this really could happen in 18th-century England if a man broke off an engagement -- or perhaps he felt guilty about the nervous breakdown she had as a result of his being such a cad. At any rate, he gave her an annuity of 200 pounds a year, which was enough to allow her to give up teaching and dedicate herself to literary pursuits. (Which sounds like a good deal to *me.*)

Hannah More was a playwright, novelist, and moralist (I don't know how else to describe the fact that she wrote lots of books about how to be pious and good). She also felt strongly about educating women and the poor, and gave money and time to both pursuits. She lived a long and apparently happy life, and there's still at least one school named after her in England.

[emelie · Rating 1 out of 5]

junge was war das😭

[John · Rating 2 out of 5]

Don't get the rating wrong, because it is probably better for the time is was written but for todays audience it is quite outdated and outright boring to read(something the introduction makes clear that it may be). I was torn between 2 and 3 stars.

It has a few enjoyable parts, but mostly I don't care about the subjects matter that are discusses, so I sped trough much of it. The Christian morale preaching is not wrong per ce as a Christian message(and many today have a lot to learn from the virtue of old), but the setting(how the process of marriage is accustomed) and the "strictness" seems too Christian if one could put it that way.

The premise is that young Charles is on the hunt for a wife, and in that matter Hannah More inserts the episodes and discussions that show what kind of character both the future wife and the Coeleb gotta have, both character wise but also in regards to right belief.

[Lona Manning · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book is barely a novel. The novel structure is merely a device for Hannah More to expound on her theories of Christianity and education. The characters are all cariactures. The book is of historical interest because Cassandra and Jane Austen read it, and I suspect that it was one of the inspirations for Mansfield Park. Just like the novel Sir Charles Grandison, the characters spend a lot of time discussing, analyzing and criticising the moral fibre and personalities of their acquaintances. All of their denigrating remarks, and their discussions of the private lives of everybody around them, are to be taken as philosophical discussion intended to help everybody become better Christians. So it's not just gossiping about the neighbours.

Would only be of interest for die-hard lovers of 18th century literature.

[Emilia · Rating 2 out of 5]

ooooh
a hard slog

[lewis valentine · Rating 4 out of 5]

I write this as a female reader logged into my husband's account...This is not a read for the faint of heart. Rather than weighing it by modern sensibilities which may well view it as judgmental, preachy, and even misogynistic, we might keep in mind the audience to whom it was written and that the genre of "novel" was fairly new - and thus far disdained - at the time it was published. It should also be remembered that the author was a WOMAN even though the main character is male. Summaries here and elsewhere give a more or less accurate account of the plot, which is essentially an 18th-century romance against the backdrop of a series of conversations between the main character and his friends (and sometimes the reader) about nearly every facet of everyday, upper-class life - not only qualities to be sought in a lifelong mate (as opposed to political or economic gain which was the norm at the time) but also including:
- the value of enlightening conversation
- the pitfalls of irresponsible spending habits and their consequences to others (e.g., debtor's prison)
- the oft-overeducation of young women, for the purpose of making them into performing show-ponies rather than sensible household managers
- the proper influence of a believing Christian wife on an unbelieving husband
- the raising and discipline of children so as to teach them truthfulness, unselfishness and charity
- many facets of Christianity, including misconceptions carried by unbelievers and nominal believers, and some major and minor points of theology

I give four stars mainly because it could be a tedious read as some conversations seem to drag on needlessly. But if one approaches the content with humility there are applicable truths to be gleaned even today. I may well go back and make notes of the many quotable passages which seem apt even 200 years later. As for the romantic content of the novel, we may do well to take note of even the secular "dating scene" of early 19th century England, where young men and women were rarely alone together and the parents' full oversight and consent was a standard element of courtship. I have to wonder if we might see less divorce and unwed pregnancies today if young people and their families took such a realistic view of human nature as did the characters here. In all, the discussions More included caused me to take a harder look at my own shortcomings as a Christian and a wife, and seek to be better at both.

[Julia · Rating 2 out of 5]

More 2.5. This book was really a product of its times. It is the most anti-feminist book I have ever read, mostly consisting of religious men wandering around having self-congratulatory conversations about how good they are at being religious and keeping their women in line. But it was an interesting read to see how people thought back then and bits of it were genuinely funny.

[Adam Stevenson · Rating 2 out of 5]

I read Hannah Moore’s Coelebs in Search of a Wife for something of a dare. The Dr Johnson Reading Circle took a literary tour around Bath and I’d sampled a little something from most of the stops except Hannah Moore’s. We were told of her only novel, an interminably boring tale of a man looking for his perfect wife and, as a single man, was at the receiving end of a number of jokes that it might hold useful information. I decided to read it, just so I could say I had.

One of the biggest problems of the book is that Coelebs isn’t really in search of a wife. Not only has he been raised in such a way that most women wouldn’t fulfil his peculiar and exacting standards, he’s been raised in a way that only one woman can. This woman has herself been raised to be the perfect wife for him - a plan cooked up by both their fathers when the children were born. What’s more, Coelebs has been told to hold off his decision until he meets this woman, so when he’s meeting others, he already has that in the back of his mind. He hardly talks to any of the prospective candidates and actual spends far more time thinking about their mothers.

This is another problem with the book, Coelebs is weird. His ideal woman in the prelapsarian Eve as depicted in Paradise Lost. He particularly cites a moment when an angel pops down to see them and Eve can easily knock up a scrumptious meal and then doesn’t join in the conversation because the men are talking big talk. He doesn’t have any opinions that don’t come from his own father or from a rigid selection of books. When one woman says she enjoys literature, he starts a conversation her about Latin poetry and is very disappointed that she can’t read Latin. (When it turns out Lucilla, his made-to-order bride does read Latin, it’s treated as something of a dirty secret.) Coelebs is far more interested in the parents and educational theories that have shaped the potential wives, than the women themselves, having long conversations about how the woman was disciplined as a child and such. He’s a weirdo.

Most of the potential wives are barely characters, very few of them having dialogue, with far more attention paid to their mothers’ failings. Lucilla is allowed to speak for herself a little. She’s not an unpleasant person but so cowed under by her upbringing that she regards complements as dangerous to her spiritual welfare. She’s been educated to be knowledgable about music, literature and art but has been utterly discouraged to think of herself as a musician, writer or artist - what would women have to say in these mediums after all? (Says the female author…) Her sister Phoebe shows a little more life but that’s being ground out of her by maths lessons.

Lucilla’s father, Mr Stanley is presented as the ideal Christian. He is naturally kind and charitable but these acts are motivated by his deep faith. Many of the other characters in the book don’t quite reach his saintliness as they have all the right faith but none of the right actions, or all the right actions but none of the faith. He’s the worst. He hogs conversations, assuming that everyone wants to hear his opinions. He has been training his children in carefully manipulative ways, and training one of them to specifically be a perfect wife to Coelebs. He looks down on most people but if complemented says that he is just the same as other people with dark urges - we never find out what these are. He might not be outright abusive but his wife and children have been badgered and bothered and brainwashed into agreeing with everything he says.

The worst thing about this novel is that is is 400 pages long and dull. Even the potentially interesting notion of a search for a wife is squandered. There are no twists, turns or events in the book and there’s almost no dialogue, just monologues in succession. Despite being written by a woman, it reads like boring old man with nasty, narrow views opining on the world after a glass of port. It’s not a good book.

[Sandra Miksa · Rating 1 out of 5]

What a dragging snooze fest.
It started off as interesting even with its fanatism with Milton and its various dialogues on religion (and encounters of religious/non-religious characters).
But it was simply preachy with a plot so simple and characters so irritable.
I sped read the last half of the book.

[Isabella V Clark ⚡️ · Rating 1 out of 5]

Sincerely awful. So glad to have finished this waste of 456 pages.

[Rachel · Rating 2 out of 5]

funniest book of all time?

[Julianne · Rating 1 out of 5]

I read this for a class called "Jane Austen and her contemporaries". There is a reason that Jane Austen is the author remembered from this time period.

[Pat · Rating 2 out of 5]

(Read in the Project Gutenberg copy, which is remarkably free of typos)

Oh, history of children's lit, the dreck I read for you ... Finally buckled down to read this much-admired piece of sermonizing in the shape of a novel--and it's actually more boring than The History of Sandford and Merton , which--honestly--I didn't think was possible. Characters are types (I expected this); everyone speaks in bits of sermons (I also expected this); and Charles puts everyone's actions and reactions and conversations and emotions through a sieve so fine that it's a wonder he can lower himself to marry any of the eligible characters. Of course, it's also impossible to imagine anyone in this book living like a physical being with actual human needs.

Blech. Now I've read it. I never need to read it again; and good riddance.

[Lucy · Rating 1 out of 5]

Be warned, this is not a novel. It's a series of moralising conversations between insufferably pompous and self-satisfied men in which they criticise others and spout appalling theories about the place of women. I know it is said that this is a work of its time, but I don't believe people ever spoke or thought like this. Utter tosh.

[Scribh · Rating 2 out of 5]

This unfortunate read was the worst I've endured since Clarissa. Didactic, insufferable, and unintentionally humorous. Proof, however, that women can write books calculated to restrain young women from developing outside the safe domestic boundaries sustained by a conservative religious patriarchy.