Woman's Work in English Fiction, from the Restoration to the Mid-Victorian Period

by Clara Helen Whitmore

  CHAPTER X

  Jane Austen

  If in this age of steam and electricity you would escape from the noiseof the city, and experience for an hour the quiet joys of the Englishcountryside, at a time when a chaise and four was the quickest means ofreaching the metropolis from any part of the kingdom, turn to the pagesof Jane Austen. In them have been preserved faithful pictures of thepeaceful life of the south of England exactly as it existed a hundredand more years ago. The gently sloping downs crossed by hedgerows, thelazy rivers meandering through the valleys, the little villages halfhidden in the orchards of apple, pear, peach, and plum, all suggest theland of happy homes. On the outskirts of every village there are the twoof three gentlemen's houses: the substantial mansion of the squire, withits park of old elms, oaks, and beeches; a smaller house suitable for agentleman of slender income, like Mr. Bennet, the father of the fourgirls of _Pride and Prejudice_, or for an elder son who will in timetake possession of the hall, like Charles Musgrove in the story of_Persuasion_; and the still smaller parsonage standing in the garden ofvegetables and flowers, surrounded by a laurel hedge, where lives ayounger son or a friend of the family.

  The gentry that inhabit these homes carry on the plot of Jane Austen'snovels. And what an even, almost uneventful life they lead. Life withthem is one long holiday. Dance follows dance, varied only by a dinnerat the mansion, a picnic party, private theatricals, a brief sojourn atBath, a briefer one in London, or a ride to Lyme, seventeen miles away.But Cupid ever hovers near, and in each one of these groups of gentlefolk we watch the course of true love, "which never did run smooth." Forin spite of match-making mammas and stern fathers with an eye that themarriage settlements shall be sufficient to clothe sentiment with trueBritish respectability, the six novels of Jane Austen contain as manytrue and tender love stories, differing from one another not so much inthe incidents as in the characters of the lovers. Unlike the oldernovelists, who constantly drew the attention away from the main theme bystories of thrilling adventure, Jane Austen holds closely to the greatproblem of fiction, whether or not the youths and maidens will behappily married at the conclusion of the book.

  When Darcy first meets Elizabeth, the heroine of _Pride and Prejudice_,he shuns her and her family as vulgar. Elizabeth is so prejudicedagainst him that she cannot forget his insulting arrogance. But Darcy'slove cannot be stemmed. Other heroes have plunged into raging floods torescue the fair heroine. Darcy does more. For love of Elizabeth heaccepts the whole Bennet family, including Mrs. Bennet, who always saysthe silly thing, and Lydia, who had almost invited Wickham to elope withher and was indifferent as to whether or not he married her, until Darcycompelled him to do so--a bitter humiliation for a man whose greatestfault was overweening pride of birth. At last, Elizabeth comprehends theextent of his generosity, his superior understanding and strength ofcharacter, and Darcy is rewarded by the hand of the sunniest heroine inall fiction. Who but Elizabeth with her independent spirit, quickintelligence and lively wit could curb his family pride! They marry, andwe know they will be happy.

  _Sense and Sensibility_ works out a problem for lovers. Like manyromantic girls, Marianne asserts that a woman can love but once. "Henever loved that loved not at first sight" is also part of her creed.But after her infatuation for Willoughby has been cured, she contentedlymarries Colonel Brandon, although she knows that he frequently hasrheumatism and wears flannel waistcoats. Marianne will be much happieras the wife of a man of mature years who loves her impulsive nature andcan control it than she would have been with the gallant who won herfirst love.

  In the piquant satire of _Northanger Abbey_ there is another problemsuggested. This book is distinctly modern. Man is the pursued; woman thepursuer. Bernard Shaw has treated this momentous question in a seriousmanner in many of his plays. Jane Austen regards it with a humoroussmile. Did Henry Tilney ever know why he married Catherine Morland? Orwas this daughter of a country parsonage, without beauty, withoutaccomplishments, and without riches, aware that on her first visit toBath she used feminine arts that would have put Becky Sharp toshame--who, by the way, was a little girl at that time--and would havemade Anne, the knowing heroine of _Man and Superman_, green with envy?Yet her arts consisted simply in following the dictates of her heart.She fell in love with Henry Tilney; looked for him whenever she enteredthe pump-room; was unhappy if he were absent and expressed her joy athis approach; saw in him the paragon of wisdom and looked at every thingwith his eyes. From first ignoring her, he began to seek her society,and learn the true excellence of her character. And then Jane Austenexplains:

  "I must confess that this affection originated in nothing better thangratitude; or in other words, that a persuasion of her partiality forhim had been the only cause of giving her a serious thought. It is a newcircumstance in romance, I acknowledge, and dreadfully derogatory of anheroine's dignity, but if it is as new in common life, the credit of awild imagination will be all my own."

  But lest we think that Miss Austen is asserting a rule that women takethe initiative in this matter of love and marriage, it is well toremember that Darcy first loved Elizabeth Bennet, and forced her toacknowledge his worth, and that Colonel Brandon married a young lady whohad formerly supposed him at the advanced age of thirty-five to beoccupied with thoughts of death rather than of love.

  And Mr. Knightley is another hero who fell in love and waited patientlyfor its return. Emma is like Marianne in one respect, she neededguidance. Almost from childhood the mistress of her father's house andthe first lady in the society of Highbury, she was threatened by twoevils, "the power of having too much her own way, and a disposition tothink a little too well of herself." Mr. Knightley, the elder brother ofher elder sister's husband, is the only person that sees that she is notalways wise and that she is sometimes selfish. He is the only one thatchides her. Emma is interested in promoting the welfare of all abouther, but she lacks that most feminine quality of insight, so that herwell-meant help, as in the case of her protegee, poor Harriet Smith, issometimes productive of evil. And yet Emma is brave and self-forgetful.Not until she has schooled herself to think of Mr. Knightley as marriedto Harriet, is she aware how much he is a part of her own life. But thisis only another instance of her blindness. When she learns that he hasloved her with all her faults ever since she was thirteen, she is veryhappy. There is no tumultuous passion in this union, but we are assuredof a love that will abide through the years.

  In _Mansfield Park_ and in _Persuasion_, there is another variety of theold story. Fanny Price and Anne Elliot, the one the daughter of a poorlieutenant of marines, whose family is the most ill-bred in all MissAusten's books, the other the neglected daughter of Sir Walter Elliot,Baronet, have more in common than any other of her heroines. Althoughthese stories are different, yet in each it is the devotion of theheroine that guides the course of love through many obstacles into aquiet haven. Who that reads their story will say that Miss Austen'smaidens are without passion? They do not analyse their feelings, nor dothey pour them forth in wild soliloquy. But the heart of each isclearly revealed through little acts and expressions. Fanny Price,cherishing a love for Edmund Bertram, who was kind to her when she wasneglected by everybody else, refuses to marry the rich, handsome, andbrilliant Mr. Crawford, although she herself is penniless. We feel hermisery as she realises that she is nothing but a friend to Edmund andrejoice with her when her love awakens a response. Anne Elliot, thegentlest of all her heroines, who in obedience to her father has brokenher engagement to Captain Wentworth eight years before, when she isagain thrown into his company, observes his every expression, and growssad and weak in health at his studied neglect. Other heroines have saidmore, but none have felt more than Miss Austen's. Anne Elliot herselfhas spoken for them:

  "All the privilege I claim for my own sex (it is not a very enviableone) is that of loving longest, when existence, or when hope, is gone."

  But Jane Austen, like Shakespeare, is a dramatist. So, lest this betaken for Miss Austen's opinion, Captain Wentworth
has the last wordhere when he writes to Anne, "Dare not say that man forgets sooner thanwoman, that his love has an earlier death. Unjust I have been, weak andresentful I have been, but never inconstant."

  And so, at the close of these novels, two more happy homes are added tothose of rural England.

  Are there many heroes and heroines for whom we dare predict a happymarried life? Would Mr. B. and Pamela have written such long letters toeach other about the training of their children if conversation had notbeen a bore? Evelina must have been disappointed to discover that LordOrville lived on roast beef, plum-pudding, and port wine instead ofmusic and poetry. Of all Scott's heroes and heroines none had sacrificedmore for each other than Ivanhoe and Rowena; he gave up Rotherwood, and,as a disinherited son, sought forgetfulness of her charms in distantPalestine; she put aside all hopes of becoming a Saxon queen, and wastrue to the gallant son of Cedric. Yet we have Thackeray for authoritythat they were not only unhappy, but often quarrelled after Scott leftthem at the altar. And none of Thackeray's marriages turned out well,although Becky Sharp made Rodney Crawley very happy until he discoveredher wiles. Dickens was perhaps more fortunate, but David was led away bythe cunning ways of Dora before he discovered a companion and helpmatein Agnes, a heroine worthy to be placed beside Elizabeth and JaneBennet. George Eliot's books and those of later novelists are rather awarning than an incentive to matrimony. Have all our sighs and tearsover the mishaps of ill-starred lovers been in vain, and is it true thatwhen the curtain falls at the wedding it is only to shut from view ascene of domestic infelicity?

  Not so with Jane Austen. She is the queen of match-makers. The marriagesbrought about by her guidance give a belief in the permanency of Englishhome life, quite as necessary for the welfare of the kingdom as thestability of Magna Charta. Her heroes have qualities that wear well, andher heroines might have inspired Wordsworth's lines:

  A creature not too bright or good For human nature's daily food, For transient sorrows, simple wiles, Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears and smiles.

  Besides the lovers, many diverting people lived in these homes of thegentry, quite as amusing as any of the peasants who were brought uponthe stage by the older dramatists for our entertainment; perhaps moreamusing, because of their self-sufficiency. These people seldom doanything that is peculiar, nor are they the objects of practical jokes,as were so many men and women in the earlier books; but they talk freelyboth at home and abroad about whatever is of interest to them. Theyseldom use stereotyped words or phrases, yet their conversation is acrystal from which the whole mental horizon of the speaker shinesforth. When Mrs. Bennet learns that Netherfield Park has been let to asingle gentleman of fortune, her first exclamation comes from theheart--"What a fine thing for our girls!" After Mr. Collins, upon whomMr. Bennet's estate is entailed, has resolved to make all possibleamends to his daughters by marrying one of them, and is making hisfamous proposal to Elizabeth, he says with solemn composure: "But,before I am run away with by my feelings on this subject, perhaps itwould be advisable for me to state my reasons for marrying--and,moreover, for coming into Hertfordshire with the design of selecting awife, as I certainly did." No wonder Elizabeth laughed at such a lover.Mr. Collins is the same type of man as Mr. Smith, whom Evelina meets atSnow Hill, but infinitely more ridiculous because he is an educated manof some attainments.

  Then there is Mr. Woodhouse, the father of Emma, with his constantsolicitude for everybody's health and his fears that they may haveindigestion. When his daughter and her family arrive from London, allwell and hearty, he says by way of hospitality: "You and I will have anice basin of gruel together. My dear Emma, suppose we all have a basinof gruel." His friend Mrs. Bates is always voluble. She is describingMr. Dixon's country seat in Ireland to Emma: "Jane has heard a greatdeal of its beauty--from Mr. Dixon, I mean--I do not know that she everheard about it from anybody else--but it was very natural, you know,that he should like to speak of his own place while he was paying hisaddresses--and as Jane used to be very often walking out with them--forColonel and Mrs. Campbell were very particular about their daughter'snot walking out often with only Mr. Dixon, for which I do not at allblame them; of course she heard everything he might be telling MissCampbell about his own home in Ireland." One respects the mental powerof a woman who could remember the main thread of her discourse amid somany digressions.

  How characteristic is Sir Walter Elliot's reply to the gentleman who istrying to bring a neighbour's name to his mind. "Wentworth? Oh, ay! Mr.Wentworth, the curate of Monkford. You misled me by the term_Gentleman_. I thought you were speaking of some man of property." Andnot the least amusing of these people is Mr. Elton's bride, a pert sortof woman who for some reason patronises everybody into whose company sheis thrown. After meeting Mr. Knightley, by far the most consequentialperson about Highbury, she expresses her approval of him to Emma:"Knightley is quite the gentleman! I like him very much! Decidedly, Ithink, a very gentlemanlike man." And Emma wonders if Mr. Knightley hasbeen able to pronounce this self-important newcomer as quite the lady.Pick out almost any speech at random, and anyone who is at all familiarwith Miss Austen will easily recognise the speaker.

  This ability to describe people by such delicate touches has been highlypraised by Macaulay in the essay on Madame D'Arblay before quoted. Hethus compares Jane Austen with Shakespeare:

  "Admirable as he [Shakespeare] was in all parts of his art, we mustadmire him for this, that, while he has left us a greater number ofstriking portraits than all other dramatists put together, he hasscarcely left us a single caricature. Shakespeare has had neither equalnor second. But among the writers who, in the point which we havementioned, have approached nearest to the manner of the great master, wehave no hesitation in placing Jane Austen, a woman of whom England isjustly proud. She has given us a multitude of characters, all, in acertain sense, commonplace, all such as we meet every day. Yet they areall as perfectly discriminated from each other as if they were the mosteccentric of human beings. There are, for instance, four clergymen, noneof whom we should be surprised to find in any parsonage in the kingdom,Mr. Edward Ferrars, Mr. Henry Tilney, Mr. Edmund Bertram, and Mr.Elton. They are all specimens of the upper part of the middle class.They have all been liberally educated. They all lie under the restraintsof the same sacred profession. They are all young. They are all in love.Not one of them has any hobbyhorse, to use the phrase of Sterne. Not onehas a ruling passion, such as we read of in Pope. Who would not haveexpected them to be insipid likenesses of each other? No such thing.Harpagon is not more unlike to Jourdain, Joseph Surface is not moreunlike to Sir Lucius O'Trigger, than every one of Miss Austen's youngdivines to his reverend brethren. And almost all this is done by touchesso delicate that they elude analysis, that they defy the powers ofdescription, and that we know them to exist only by the general effectto which they have contributed."

  Like Shakespeare Jane Austen knew the inner nature by intuition, and hadlearned its outward expression by observation. Character not onlyaffects the speech of each one of her men and women, but determinestheir destiny and shapes the plot of the story. The class she has chosento represent is the least under the sway of circumstances of any inEngland. With money for all needs, and leisure for enjoyment, free fromobligations which pertain to higher rank, character here developsfreely and naturally. Not one of the matchmaking men or women, not eventhe intelligent Emma, succeeds in changing the life of those whom theyattempt to influence. Character is stronger than any outside agency. Inthis respect, Jane Austen is decidedly at variance with Thomas Hardy orTolstoi, but she is at one with Shakespeare.

  In the opening paragraph of each book, character begins to assertitself. If Darcy had been without PRIDE, and Elizabeth had been withoutPREJUDICE; if Marianne had had her sensibilities under control; if Emmahad not been blind; if Captain Wentworth had not been unjust andresentful--there would have been no story to tell, the course of truelove would have run so smooth. But all of them are loving and faithful,and these qualities in the e
nd conquer, and bring the stories to a happyconclusion.

  Edmund Gosse thus writes of her delineation of character:

  "Like Balzac, like Tourgenieff at his best, Jane Austen gives the readeran impression of knowing everything there was to know about hercreations, of being incapable of error as to their acts, thoughts, oremotions. She presents an absolute illusion of reality; she exhibits anart so consummate that we mistake it for nature. She never mixes herown temperament with those of her characters, she is never swayed bythem, she never loses for a moment her perfect, serene control of them.Among the creators of the world, Jane Austen takes a place that is withthe highest and that is purely her own."

  This seeming control of her characters is due largely to the fact thatwhatever happens to them is just what might have been expected. This isparticularly true of the bad people she has created. Innocence ledastray has been a popular means of exciting interest ever sinceRichardson told the sad story of Clarissa Harlowe. But there is no suchincident in Jane Austen's books. Lydia, who hasn't a thought for anybodynor anything but a red-coat, and Wickham, who elopes with her withoutany intention of matrimony, are properly punished, by being married toeach other, and the future unhappiness which must be their lot is due totheir own natures. Willoughby had seduced one girl, trifled with theaffections of another, and married an heiress, but he finds only misery,and sadly says: "I must rub through the world as well as I can." HenryCrawford, and his sister, with so much that is good in their natures,yet with a lack of moral fibre, are both unhappy. Each has lost the onethey respected and loved and might have married. With what wit sheleaves William Elliot, the all-agreeable man, the heir of Sir Walter,who, that he may keep the latter single, has enticed the scheming Mrs.Clay from his home:

  "And it is now a doubtful point whether his cunning or hers may finallycarry the day; whether, after preventing her from being the wife of SirWalter, he may not be wheedled and caressed at last into making her thewife of Sir William."

  And so punishment is meted out with that nicety of judgment whichdistinguishes every detail of her novels.

  But Jane Austen has little interest in immorality. "Let other pens dwellon guilt and misery; I quit such odious subjects as soon as I can," shesays in _Mansfield Park_. And her readers have observed that deeds ofevil take place off the stage, while she records only what is reportedof them in the drawing-room.

  She dwells as little on misery as on guilt. She shows in her letterscharitable regard for the poor people of Steventon and Chawton. Shedescribes minutely the unkempt house of Lieutenant Price at Portsmouthwith its incessant noise of heavy steps, banging doors, and untrainedservants, where every voice was loud excepting Mrs. Price's, whichresembled "the soft monotony of Lady Bertram's, only worn intofretfulness." Miss Austen's pen was able to portray scenes of squalorand vice; she chose to turn from them. Perhaps she felt instinctivelythat true aesthetic pleasure cannot be produced by dwelling on a scene ina book which would be repulsive to the eye. Miss Austen wrote beforethere was much serious interest in the lives of the poor. Their onlyfunction in literature had been to provoke laughter. The sensitivedaughter of the rector of Steventon may have felt, as others have, thatthere was no occasion to laugh at the blunders and ill-manners ofpeasants, which were proper and natural to their condition of life. Shedid not need these people to entertain us. There were quite as funnypeople in the hall as in the cottage, funnier, even, because theirhumorous sayings spring from a humorous twist in their natures, not fromignorance.

  Sir Walter Scott, after reading _Pride and Prejudice_ for the thirdtime, said:

  "That young lady had a talent for describing the involvements andfeelings and characters of ordinary life, which is to me the mostwonderful I ever met with. The Big Bow-wow strain I can do myself, likeany now going; but the exquisite touch, which renders ordinarycommonplace things and characters interesting from the truth of thedescription and the sentiment, is denied to me."

  Sir Walter Scott proved the truth of the above statement in _St.Ronan's Well_, one of the least successful of his novels, which waswritten in imitation of Jane Austen.

  Because Jane Austen confined her work so closely to ordinarymiddle-class people, she has been called narrow. But if we judge men andwomen not by dress and manners, but by what they are, these peoplefurnish as broad a view of humanity as could be obtained by travellingup and down the world. A trained botanist will gather an herbarium froma country lane that will give a more extended knowledge of botany than aless skilful one could get by travelling through the woods and fields ofa continent. Very few novelists have portrayed greater varieties ofhuman nature than Miss Austen.

  Jane Austen's style has been praised by all critics. George WilliamCurtis wrote of her art:

  "She writes wholly as an artist, while George Eliot advocates views, andMiss Bronte's fiery page is often a personal protest. In Miss Austen, onthe other hand, there is in kind, but infinitely less in degree, thesame clear atmosphere of pure art which we perceive in Shakespeare andGoethe."

  While Miss Austen has been so often likened to Shakespeare, she is in nosense a romantic writer. She belongs purely to the classic school. Shehas the restraint, the perfect poise of the Greeks. She recogniseseverywhere the need of law. She accepts society as it exists under therestraints of law and religion. She no more questioned the Englishprayer book and the English constitution than Homer questioned theexistence of the gods and the supreme power of kings. This feeling forlaw shaped her art. Her plots are perfectly symmetrical. There is noredundancy in expression. There is none of that wild luxuriance in fancyor expression so common in romanticism. Each word used is needed in thesentence, and is in its proper place. The strength of romanticism liesin its impetuosity; the strength of classicism lies in its self-control.This is the strength of Jane Austen.

  Emotion in her books is so restrained that the superficial reader doubtsits existence. Yet her characters feel deeply and are sensitive to theacts and words of those about them. Although their feelings are undercontrol, they are none the less real. The reader watches, but is notasked to participate in their griefs.

  As she never moves to tears, neither does she provoke laughter, but shelightens every page with a quiet glow of humour. Humour was as naturalto her as to Elizabeth Bennet, whose sayings give the sparkle to _Prideand Prejudice_. Much of the humour in her letters consists of anunexpected turn to a sentence or an incongruous combination of words.She writes of meeting "Dr. Hall in such very deep mourning that eitherhis mother, his wife or himself must be dead." She announces themarriage of a gentleman to a widow by the laconic message, "Dr. Gardinerwas married yesterday to Mrs. Percy and her three daughters." And againshe says that a certain Mrs. Blount appeared the same as in September,"with the same broad face, diamond bandeau, white shoes, pink husband,and fat neck." She sees through the affectations of society and observesthe pleasure afforded by the small misfortunes of another as plainly asdid Thackeray later. The wife of a certain gentleman is discovered "tobe everything the neighbourhood could wish, silly and cross as well asextravagant." She finds continual source of enjoyment in people'sfoibles, and thinks that her own misfortunes ought to furnish jokes toher acquaintances, or she will die in their debt for entertainment.

  In a less refined degree, this was the view of life of Miss Burney, herfavourite author. Miss Austen was but three years old when Evelina madeher debut at Ranelagh, and not over seven when Cecilia visited her threeguardians in London: _Camilla_ was published in the year that it isthought that Miss Austen began _Pride and Prejudice_. During theseyears, Miss Burney's fame was undimmed. Consider yourself for a momentin a circulating library, in the year 1797 or 1798, suppose you are fondof novel reading, and have moreover the refined tastes of Miss Austen;you will find there no novelist who can hold a rival place to MissBurney. Miss Austen refers to her both in her novels and letters. Inonly one passage in her novels has she interrupted her story to expressa general opinion; that is in _Northanger Abbey_, where she praises theart of the novelis
t, and refers particularly to _Cecilia_, _Camilla_,and _Belinda_. In the same novel John Thorpe's lack of taste isemphasised by his calling _Camilla_ a stupid book of unnatural stuff,which he could not get through. She evidently discussed Miss Burney'snovels with the people she met; a certain young man just entered atOxford has heard that _Evelina_ was written by Dr. Johnson, and shefinds two traits in a certain Miss Fletcher very pleasing: "She admires_Camilla_, and drinks no cream in her tea." But Miss Austen was no blinddisciple of Miss Burney. All the odd characters which Miss Burney culledfrom the lower ranks of society were swept away by Miss Austen.Everything approaching tragedy or the improbable is avoided, but what isleft is amplified and refined until there is no more trace of MissBurney than there is of Perugino in the paintings of Raphael.

  Artists in other lines have striven in their work for a unified whole.Most novelists have been more intent on pointing a moral or producing asensation than on the technique of their writing. Their works as a wholelack proportion. They obtrude unnecessarily in one part and are weak inanother. Miss Austen wrote because the characters in her brain demandedexpression. Who could remain silent with Elizabeth Bennet urging her toutterance? She wrote with the greatest care because she could do nothingslovenly. Whatever place may be assigned to her as the years go by, hernovels surpass all others written in English in their perfect art.

  Miss Austen's genius was but slowly recognised. Her first books werepublished in 1811, only three years before _Waverley_, and her lastnovels were published after it. Who will linger over the teacups whileknights in armour are riding the streets without? It is not until thecavalcade has passed that home seems again a quiet, refreshing spot. Sothe public, tired of the brilliant scenes and conflicting passions ofother novels, has in the last few years turned back to the simple,wholesome stories of Jane Austen.