_Description of Jane Austen's person, character, and tastes_.
As my memoir has now reached the period when I saw a great deal of my
aunt, and was old enough to understand something of her value, I will
here attempt a description of her person, mind, and habits. In person
she was very attractive; her figure was rather tall and slender, her step
light and firm, and her whole appearance expressive of health and
animation. In complexion she was a clear brunette with a rich colour;
she had full round cheeks, with mouth and nose small and well formed,
bright hazel eyes, and brown hair forming natural curls close round her
face. If not so regularly handsome as her sister, yet her countenance
had a peculiar charm of its own to the eyes of most beholders. At the
time of which I am now writing, she never was seen, either morning or
evening, without a cap; I believe that she and her sister were generally
thought to have taken to the garb of middle age earlier than their years
or their looks required; and that, though remarkably neat in their dress
as in all their ways, they were scarcely sufficiently regardful of the
fashionable, or the becoming.
She was not highly accomplished according to the present standard. Her
sister drew well, and it is from a drawing of hers that the likeness
prefixed to this volume has been taken. Jane herself was fond of music,
and had a sweet voice, both in singing and in conversation; in her youth
she had received some instruction on the pianoforte; and at Chawton she
practised daily, chiefly before breakfast. I believe she did so partly
that she might not disturb the rest of the party who were less fond of
music. In the evening she would sometimes sing, to her own
accompaniment, some simple old songs, the words and airs of which, now
never heard, still linger in my memory.
She read French with facility, and knew something of Italian. In those
days German was no more thought of than Hindostanee, as part of a lady's
education. In history she followed the old guides--Goldsmith, Hume, and
Robertson. Critical enquiry into the usually received statements of the
old historians was scarcely begun. The history of the early kings of
Rome had not yet been dissolved into legend. Historic characters lay
before the reader's eyes in broad light or shade, not much broken up by
details. The virtues of King Henry VIII. were yet undiscovered, nor had
much light been thrown on the inconsistencies of Queen Elizabeth; the one
was held to be an unmitigated tyrant, and an embodied Blue Beard; the
other a perfect model of wisdom and policy. Jane, when a girl, had
strong political opinions, especially about the affairs of the sixteenth
and seventeenth centuries. She was a vehement defender of Charles I. and
his grandmother Mary; but I think it was rather from an impulse of
feeling than from any enquiry into the evidences by which they must be
condemned or acquitted. As she grew up, the politics of the day occupied
very little of her attention, but she probably shared the feeling of
moderate Toryism which prevailed in her family. She was well acquainted
with the old periodicals from the 'Spectator' downwards. Her knowledge
of Richardson's works was such as no one is likely again to acquire, now
that the multitude and the merits of our light literature have called off
the attention of readers from that great master. Every circumstance
narrated in Sir Charles Grandison, all that was ever said or done in the
cedar parlour, was familiar to her; and the wedding days of Lady L. and
Lady G. were as well remembered as if they had been living friends.
Amongst her favourite writers, Johnson in prose, Crabbe in verse, and
Cowper in both, stood high. It is well that the native good taste of
herself and of those with whom she lived, saved her from the snare into
which a sister novelist had fallen, of imitating the grandiloquent style
of Johnson. She thoroughly enjoyed Crabbe; perhaps on account of a
certain resemblance to herself in minute and highly finished detail; and
would sometimes say, in jest, that, if she ever married at all, she could
fancy being Mrs. Crabbe; looking on the author quite as an abstract idea,
and ignorant and regardless what manner of man he might be. Scott's
poetry gave her great pleasure; she did not live to make much
acquaintance with his novels. Only three of them were published before
her death; but it will be seen by the following extract from one of her
letters, that she was quite prepared to admit the merits of 'Waverley';
and it is remarkable that, living, as she did, far apart from the gossip
of the literary world, she should even then have spoken so confidently of
his being the author of it:--
'Walter Scott has no business to write novels; especially good ones.
It is not fair. He has fame and profit enough as a poet, and ought
not to be taking the bread out of other people's mouths. I do not
mean to like "Waverley," if I can help it, but I fear I must. I am
quite determined, however, not to be pleased with Mrs. ---'s, should I
ever meet with it, which I hope I may not. I think I can be stout
against anything written by her. I have made up my mind to like no
novels really, but Miss Edgeworth's, E.'s, and my own.'
It was not, however, what she _knew_, but what she _was_, that
distinguished her from others. I cannot better describe the fascination
which she exercised over children than by quoting the words of two of her
nieces. One says:--
'As a very little girl I was always creeping up to aunt Jane, and
following her whenever I could, in the house and out of it. I might
not have remembered this but for the recollection of my mother's
telling me privately, that I must not be troublesome to my aunt. Her
first charm to children was great sweetness of manner. She seemed to
love you, and you loved her in return. This, as well as I can now
recollect, was what I felt in my early days, before I was old enough
to be amused by her cleverness. But soon came the delight of her
playful talk. She could make everything amusing to a child. Then, as
I got older, when cousins came to share the entertainment, she would
tell us the most delightful stories, chiefly of Fairyland, and her
fairies had all characters of their own. The tale was invented, I am
sure, at the moment, and was continued for two or three days, if
occasion served.'
Again: 'When staying at Chawton, with two of her other nieces, we often
had amusements in which my aunt was very helpful. She was the one to
whom we always looked for help. She would furnish us with what we wanted
from her wardrobe; and she would be the entertaining visitor in our make-
believe house. She amused us in various ways. Once, I remember, in
giving a conversation as between myself and my two cousins, supposing we
were all grown up, the day after a ball.'
Very similar is the testimony of another niece:--'Aunt Jane was the
general favourite with children; her ways with them being so playful, and
her long circumstantial stories so delightful. These were continued from
time to time, and were begged for on all possible and impossible
occasions; woven, as she proceeded, out of nothing but her own happy
talent for invention. Ah! if but one of them could be recovered! And
again, as I grew older, when the original seventeen years between our
ages seemed to shrink to seven, or to nothing, it comes back to me now
how strangely I missed her. It had become so much a habit with me to put
by things in my mind with a reference to her, and to say to myself, I
shall keep this for aunt Jane.'
A nephew of hers used to observe that his visits to Chawton, after the
death of his aunt Jane, were always a disappointment to him. From old
associations he could not help expecting to be particularly happy in that
house; and never till he got there could he realise to himself how all
its peculiar charm was gone. It was not only that the chief light in the
house was quenched, but that the loss of it had cast a shade over the
spirits of the survivors. Enough has been said to show her love for
children, and her wonderful power of entertaining them; but her friends
of all ages felt her enlivening influence. Her unusually quick sense of
the ridiculous led her to play with all the common-places of everyday
life, whether as regarded persons or things; but she never played with
its serious duties or responsibilities, nor did she ever turn individuals
into ridicule. With all her neighbours in the village she vas on
friendly, though not on intimate, terms. She took a kindly interest in
all their proceedings, and liked to hear about them. They often served
for her amusement; but it was her own nonsense that gave zest to the
gossip. She was as far as possible from being censorious or satirical.
She never abused them or _quizzed_ them--_that_ was the word of the day;
an ugly word, now obsolete; and the ugly practice which it expressed is
much less prevalent now than it was then. The laugh which she
occasionally raised was by imagining for her neighbours, as she was
equally ready to imagine for her friends or herself, impossible
contingencies, or by relating in prose or verse some trifling anecdote
coloured to her own fancy, or in writing a fictitious history of what
they were supposed to have said or done, which could deceive nobody.
The following specimens may be given of the liveliness of mind which
imparted an agreeable flavour both to her correspondence and her
conversation:--
ON READING IN THE NEWSPAPERS THE MARRIAGE OF MR. GELL TO MISS GILL, OF
EASTBOURNE.
At Eastbourne Mr. Gell, From being perfectly well,
Became dreadfully ill, For love of Miss Gill.
So he said, with some sighs, I'm the slave of your _iis_;
Oh, restore, if you please, By accepting my _ees_.
ON THE MARRIAGE OF A MIDDLE-AGED FLIRT WITH A MR. WAKE, WHOM, IT WAS
SUPPOSED, SHE WOULD SCARCELY HAVE ACCEPTED IN HER YOUTH.
Maria, good-humoured, and handsome, and tall,
For a husband was at her last stake;
And having in vain danced at many a ball,
Is now happy to _jump at a Wake_.
'We were all at the play last night to see Miss O'Neil in Isabella. I
do not think she was quite equal to my expectation. I fancy I want
something more than can be. Acting seldom satisfies me. I took two
pockethandkerchiefs, but had very little occasion for either. She is
an elegant creature, however, and hugs Mr. Young delightfully.'
'So, Miss B. is actually married, but I have never seen it in the
papers; and one may as well be single if the wedding is not to be in
print.'
Once, too, she took it into her head to write the following mock
panegyric on a young friend, who really was clever and handsome:--
1.
In measured verse I'll now rehearse
The charms of lovely Anna:
And, first, her mind is unconfined
Like any vast savannah.
2.
Ontario's lake may fitly speak
Her fancy's ample bound:
Its circuit may, on strict survey
Five hundred miles be found.
3.
Her wit descends on foes and friends
Like famed Niagara's Fall;
And travellers gaze in wild amaze,
And listen, one and all.
4.
Her judgment sound, thick, black, profound,
Like transatlantic groves,
Dispenses aid, and friendly shade
To all that in it roves.
5.
If thus her mind to be defined
America exhausts,
And all that's grand in that great land
In similes it costs--
6.
Oh how can I her person try
To image and portray?
How paint the face, the form how trace
In which those virtues lay?
7.
Another world must be unfurled,
Another language known,
Ere tongue or sound can publish round
Her charms of flesh and bone.
I believe that all this nonsense was nearly extempore, and that the fancy
of drawing the images from America arose at the moment from the obvious
rhyme which presented itself in the first stanza.
The following extracts are from letters addressed to a niece who was at
that time amusing herself by attempting a novel, probably never finished,
certainly never published, and of which I know nothing but what these
extracts tell. They show the good-natured sympathy and encouragement
which the aunt, then herself occupied in writing 'Emma,' could give to
the less matured powers of the niece. They bring out incidentally some
of her opinions concerning compositions of that kind:--
_Extracts_.
'Chawton, Aug. 10, 1814.
'Your aunt C. does not like desultory novels, and is rather fearful
that yours will be too much so; that there will be too frequent a
change from one set of people to another, and that circumstances will
be sometimes introduced, of apparent consequence, which will lead to
nothing. It will not be so great an objection to me. I allow much
more latitude than she does, and think nature and spirit cover many
sins of a wandering story. And people in general do not care much
about it, for your comfort . . .'
'Sept. 9.
'You are now collecting your people delightfully, getting them exactly
into such a spot as is the delight of my life. Three or four families
in a country village is the very thing to work on; and I hope you will
write a great deal more, and make full use of them while they are so
very favourably arranged.'
'Sept. 28.
'Devereux Forrester being ruined by his vanity is very good: but I
wish you would not let him plunge into a "vortex of dissipation." I
do not object to the thing, but I cannot bear the expression: it is
such thorough novel slang; and so old that I dare say Adam met with it
in the first novel that he opened.'
'Hans Place (Nov. 1814).
'I have been very far from finding your book an evil, I assure you. I
read it immediately, and with great pleasure. Indeed, I do think you
get on very fast. I wish other people of my acquaintance could
compose as rapidly. Julian's history was quite a surprise to me. You
had not very long known it yourself, I suspect; but I have no
objection to make to the circumstance; it is very well told, and his
having been in love with the aunt gives Cecilia an additional interest
with him. I like the idea; a very proper compliment to an aunt! I
rather imagine, indeed, that nieces are seldom chosen but in
compliment to some aunt or other. I dare say your husband was in love
with me once, and would never have thought of you if he had not
supposed me dead of a scarlet fever.'
Jane Austen was successful in everything that she attempted with her
fingers. None of us could throw spilikins in so perfect a circle, or
take them off with so steady a hand. Her performances with cup and ball
were marvellous. The one used at Chawton was an easy one, and she has
been known to catch it on the point above an hundred times in succession,
till her hand was weary. She sometimes found a resource in that simple
game, when unable, from weakness in her eyes, to read or write long
together. A specimen of her clear strong handwriting is here given.
Happy would the compositors for the press be if they had always so
legible a manuscript to work from. But the writing was not the only part
of her letters which showed superior handiwork. In those days there was
an art in folding and sealing. No adhesive envelopes made all easy. Some
people's letters always looked loose and untidy; but her paper was sure
to take the right folds, and her sealing-wax to drop into the right
place. Her needlework both plain and ornamental was excellent, and might
almost have put a sewing machine to shame. She was considered especially
great in satin stitch. She spent much time in these occupations, and
some of her merriest talk was over clothes which she and her companions
were making, sometimes for themselves, and sometimes for the poor. There
still remains a curious specimen of her needlework made for a sister-in-
law, my mother. In a very small bag is deposited a little rolled up
housewife, furnished with minikin needles and fine thread. In the
housewife is a tiny pocket, and in the pocket is enclosed a slip of
paper, on which, written as with a crow quill, are these lines:--
This little bag, I hope, will prove
To be not vainly made;
For should you thread and needles want,
It will afford you aid.
And, as we are about to part,
'T will serve another end:
For, when you look upon this bag,
You'll recollect your friend.
It is the kind of article that some benevolent fairy might be supposed to
give as a reward to a diligent little girl. The whole is of flowered
silk, and having been never used and carefully preserved, it is as fresh
and bright as when it was first made seventy years ago; and shows that
the same hand which painted so exquisitely with the pen could work as
delicately with the needle.
I have collected some of the bright qualities which shone, as it were, on
the surface of Jane Austen's character, and attracted most notice; but
underneath them there lay the strong foundations of sound sense and
judgment, rectitude of principle, and delicacy of feeling, qualifying her
equally to advise, assist, or amuse. She was, in fact, as ready to
comfort the unhappy, or to nurse the sick, as she was to laugh and jest
with the lighthearted. Two of her nieces were grown up, and one of them
was married, before she was taken away from them. As their minds became
more matured, they were admitted into closer intimacy with her, and
learned more of her graver thoughts; they know what a sympathising friend
and judicious adviser they found her to be in many little difficulties
and doubts of early womanhood.
I do not venture to speak of her religious principles: that is a subject
on which she herself was more inclined to _think_ and _act_ than to
_talk_, and I shall imitate her reserve; satisfied to have shown how much
of Christian love and humility abounded in her heart, without presuming
to lay bare the roots whence those graces grew. Some little insight,
however, into these deeper recesses of the heart must be given, when we
come to speak of her death.