Characteristics of Women: Moral, Poetical, and Historical

The Story

This work unfolds not as a chronological narrative, but as a systematic exploration of the female psyche as it appears across the plays of William Shakespeare. It begins with an intellectual dialogue—a framing device featuring the characters Alda and Medon—that establishes the book’s central purpose: to defend the study of "romantic" or imaginative female characters against the cold, utilitarian philosophy of the age. From this foundational defense, the work embarks on an expansive journey through the galleries of Shakespearean drama, categorizing his heroines into distinct archetypes of intellect, passion, and affection.

The progression of the book moves from the highly intellectual figures—Portia, Isabella, Beatrice, and Rosalind—who demonstrate the power of wit and moral discernment. We see Portia not merely as a heroine of a trial, but as a woman whose nobility of mind and internal "undercurrent of feeling" allow her to navigate the terrors of Shylock’s malice. From there, the inquiry shifts to characters of "passion and imagination," such as Juliet, Viola, and Ophelia. Here, the focus is on the intensity of the heart—the "Hymn to the Night" spoken by Juliet reveals the transition from innocence to the profound despair of a soul confronted with the harsh realities of separation and death. The exploration continues into the "affections," examining the quiet, enduring goodness of Hermione, the tragic purity of Desdemona, and the nearly sacred, silent strength of Cordelia.

As the analysis moves deeper, it embraces more complex, even contradictory figures. The study of Cleopatra, for instance, serves as a pivotal point where the author argues that the queen’s "infinite variety" is not a flaw, but a mirror of the real, historical woman—a fusion of classical elegance and oriental sorcery that baffles our judgment even as it fascinates. The arc of the work also incorporates historical and biographical side-notes, such as the plight of Constance of Bretagne, illustrating the real-world tensions between power and motherhood, and comparing these to the theatrical constructs of the plays.

The book moves toward its conclusion by juxtaposing figures of high moral resolution against those of destructive ambition. The analysis of Lady Macbeth stands as a stark, final contrast to the earlier heroines. She is described not as a villain of base motives, but as a woman of "grand and capacious mind" whose ambition is a "sin of the star-bright apostate," driven by a tragic, consuming vision of a future that she believes is hers to seize. By the time the reader reaches the end, the work has transformed from a simple critique into a comprehensive gallery of the human condition. The final sections reflect on how these women, whether tragic or triumphant, serve as essential reflections of the virtues and frailties inherent in the human heart, leaving the reader with a profound sense of the interconnectedness of poetry, moral philosophy, and life itself.

The People

• Portia: A woman of exceptional intellectual grace who balances her sharp legal mind with a deeply tender and unconscious affection for Bassanio. She represents the ideal synthesis of wit and feeling, capable of both commanding a courtroom and surrendering to the vulnerabilities of love.
• Isabella: A figure defined by her rigid conscientiousness and moral dignity. She is forced to navigate the corrupt world of Angelo, and her struggle is one of tempering her natural justice with the mercy and sympathy she eventually discovers within herself.
• Juliet: The embodiment of impulsive, enthusiastic, and innocent passion. She is the "child before a festival," whose rapid transition from the heights of rapture to the depths of despair highlights the dangerous, beautiful intensity of the youthful heart when it is entirely consumed by love.
• Desdemona: A character of absolute, abstract goodness. She acts as a "victim consecrated from the first," whose defining trait is an unblemished purity that makes her destruction by the "fiend" Othello both an unbearable tragedy and an inevitable sacrifice of the innocent.
• Lady Macbeth: A woman of prophetic ambition and extraordinary strength of will. Unlike the other heroines, she is defined by her "prophetic fury" and her willingness to sacrifice her humanity to secure a throne, yet her end reveals the psychological ruin that follows the pursuit of "masterdom."

In Its Own Voice

The author emphasizes the necessity of looking past the surface of the text to find the genuine pulse of the character, noting how Portia’s intellectual prowess is tempered by her internal life:

It is clear that, to feel the full force and dramatic beauty of this marvellous scene, we must go along with Portia as well as with Shylock; we must understand her concealed purpose, keep in mind her noble motives, and pursue in our fancy the under current of feeling, working in her mind throughout.

In analyzing the controversial intensity of Juliet, the author defends the character against those who would misinterpret her youthful and sincere expressions of love:

She is thinking aloud; it is the young heart "triumphing to itself in words." In the midst of all the vehemence with which she calls upon the night to bring Romeo to her arms, there is something so almost infantine in her perfect simplicity, so playful and fantastic in the imagery and language, that the charm of sentiment and innocence is thrown over the whole.

Regarding the quiet, impenetrable depths of Hermione, the author highlights how Shakespeare uses the reactions of other characters to build a portrait of her grace:

A majestic sweetness, a grand and gracious simplicity, an easy, unforced, yet dignified self-possession, are in all her deportment, and in every word she utters.

What It's Really About

At its core, this work is an argument for the dignity of the female character in literature. It posits that Shakespeare’s women are not mere ornaments or submissive foils to the male protagonists, but fully realized, autonomous beings who possess their own distinct forms of power. The central question asks how "moral, poetical, and historical" elements coalesce to create a complete human soul. The author rejects the idea that women are defined by a single virtue or vice; instead, she argues for their complexity, showing how a character’s "intellect" is shaped by her "affections," and how "imagination" can lead to both supreme sacrifice and ruinous ambition.

The book also addresses the philosophical tension between the "heartless system of expediency" prevalent in the author's own time and the enduring value of romantic feeling. The argument is that the study of these women is a corrective to a culture that sacrifices the "bloom of existence" to a cold, educational regimen. The author suggests that the "romance of elevated thought" is not a weakness to be guarded against, but a necessary strength for anyone attempting to live a meaningful life. By meticulously tracing the "under-current of feeling" in each character, she demonstrates that the moral landscape of the human heart is far more nuanced than any simplistic societal classification could capture.

Furthermore, the work explores the nature of "truth" in representation. It posits that characters like Cleopatra or Lady Macbeth are "true" not because they are models of virtue, but because they are consistent with the "contradictory elements" of human nature. The author argues that there is a "species of power" in the mere presence of goodness—as seen in Desdemona—that is just as valid, if not more so, than the active, intellectual power of a Portia. Ultimately, the book is a meditation on how Shakespeare manages to create a "unity of effect" while juggling these vast, often opposing, facets of human personality, suggesting that our understanding of these fictional women is ultimately an act of self-reflection.

Why Read It Today

Readers today will find this book an unexpectedly intimate companion. It is written with a sense of personal discovery, as if the author is inviting you to sit with her by the fire to discuss the most profound figures in the history of drama. Because it focuses on the internal life of these characters rather than on plot mechanics, it serves as a wonderful guide for anyone who has ever felt that Shakespeare’s women are the most compelling parts of his plays but struggled to articulate exactly why.

However, a modern reader must be prepared for the Victorian-era prose, which is ornate, measured, and occasionally moralistic in tone. The author’s style belongs to a time when literary criticism was an exercise in philosophy and deep empathy, which may feel dense to those accustomed to the quick-hit analysis common in contemporary media. The author also frequently references actors and critics of her own time, such as Mrs. Siddons, which provides a fascinating window into 19th-century performance history but may require a moment of adjustment for readers unfamiliar with that context.

Despite these shifts in tone, the book remains remarkably relevant because of its insistence on looking at character as a lived experience. When the author writes of "the heart of woman" or the "shaping spirit of imagination," she touches on universal vulnerabilities that persist regardless of the century. You will not find modern literary theory here, but you will find a sharp, deeply intelligent mind engaging with the most complex human emotions. It is a work that rewards a slow, deliberate reading, and it will stay with you afterward as a lens through which you can view the women in your own life, as well as the characters you encounter in every other book you pick up. It is, above all, a deeply humane and respectful study of what it means to possess a soul.