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Characteristics of Women.
by Anna Jameson.
PREFACE
TO THE NEW EDITION.
In preparing for the press a new edition of this little work, the author has endeavored to render it more worthy of the approbation and kindly feeling with which it has been received; she cannot better express her sense of both than by justifying, as far as it is in her power, the cordial and flattering tone of all the public criticisms. It is to the great name of SHAKSPEARE, that bond of sympathy among all who speak his language, and to the subject of the work, not to its own merits, that she attributes the success it has met with,--success the more delightful, because, in truth, it was from the very first, so entirely unlooked for, as to be a matter of surprise as well as of pleasure and grat.i.tude.
In this edition there are many corrections, and some additions which the author hopes may be deemed improvements. She has been induced to insert several quotations at length, which were formerly only referred to, from observing that however familiar they may be to the mind of the reader, they are always recognized with pleasure--like dear domestic faces; and if the memory fail at the moment to recall the lines or the sentiment to which the attention is directly required, few like to interrupt the course of thought, or undertake a journey from the sofa or garden-seat to the library, to hunt out the volume, the play, the pa.s.sage, for themselves.
When the first edition was sent to press, the author contemplated writing the life of Mrs. Siddons, with a reference to her art; and deferred the complete development of the character of Lady Macbeth, till she should be able to ill.u.s.trate it by the impersonation and commentary of that grand and gifted actress; but the task having fallen into other hands, the a.n.a.lysis of the character has been almost entirely rewritten, as at first conceived, or rather restored to its original form.
This little work, as it now stands, forms only part of a plan which the author hopes, if life be granted her, to accomplish;--at all events, life, while it is spared, shall be devoted to its fulfilment.
INTRODUCTION.
_Scene--A Library._
ALDA.
You will not listen to me?
MEDON.
I do, with all the deference which befits a gentleman when a lady holds forth on the virtues of her own s.e.x.
He is a parricide of his mother's name, And with an impious hand murders her fame, That wrongs the praise of women; that dares write Libels on saints, or with foul ink requite The milk they lent us.
Yours was the n.o.bler birth, For you from man were made--man but of earth-- The son of dust!
ALDA.
What's this?
MEDON.
"Only a rhyme I learned from one I talked withal;" 'tis a quotation from some old poet that has fixed itself in my memory--from Randolph, I think.
ALDA.
'Tis very justly thought, and very politely quoted, and my best courtesy is due to him and to you:--but now will you listen to me?
MEDON.
With most profound humility.
ALDA.
Nay, then! I have done, unless you will lay aside these mock airs of gallantry, and listen to me for a moment! Is it fair to bring a second-hand accusation against me, and not attend to my defence?
MEDON.
Well, I will be serious.
ALDA.
Do so, and let us talk like reasonable beings.
MEDON.
Then tell me, (as a reasonable woman you will not be affronted with the question,) do you really expect that any one will read this little book of yours?
ALDA.
I might answer, that it has been a great source of amus.e.m.e.nt and interest to me for several months, and that so far I am content: but no one writes a book without a hope of finding readers, and I shall find a few. Accident first made me an auth.o.r.ess; and not now, nor ever, have I written to flatter any prevailing fas.h.i.+on of the day for the sake of profit, though this is done, I know, by many who have less excuse for thus coining their brains. This little book was undertaken without a thought of fame or money: out of the fulness of my own heart and soul have I written it. In the pleasure it has given me, in the new and various views of human nature it has opened to me, in the beautiful and soothing images it has placed before me, in the exercise and improvement of my own faculties, I have already been repaid: if praise or profit come beside, they come as a surplus. I should be gratified and grateful, but I have not sought for them, nor worked for them. Do you believe this?
MEDON.
I do: in this I cannot suspect you of affectation, for the profession of disinterestedness is uncalled for, and the contrary would be too far countenanced by the custom of the day to be matter of reserve or reproach. But how could you (saving the reverence due to a lady-auth.o.r.ess, and speaking as one reasonable being to another) choose such a threadbare subject?
ALDA.
What do you mean?
MEDON.
I presume you have written a book to maintain the superiority of your s.e.x over ours; for so I judge by the names at the heads of some of your chapters; women fit indeed to inlay heaven with stars, but, pardon me, very unlike those who at present walk upon this earth.
ALDA.
Very unlike the fine ladies of your acquaintance, I grant you; but as to maintaining the superiority, or speculating on the rights of women--nonsense! why should you suspect me of such folly?--it is quite out of date. Why should there be compet.i.tion or comparison?
MEDON.
Both are ill-judged and odious; but did you ever meet with a woman of the world, who did not abuse most heartily the whole race of men?
ALDA.
Did you ever talk with a man of the world, who did not speak with levity or contempt of the whole human race of women?
MEDON.
Perhaps I might answer like Voltaire--"Helas ils pourraient bien avoir raison tous deux." But do you thence infer that both are good for nothing?