She had wit and imagination--a reasoning
imagination. She was erudite. Probably no woman ever lived better
entitled to a high position in literature. But she never claimed it. She
holds it now only as a collateral result of her defense in the struggle
in which her life was the stake, and in which she lost. She says:
"Never, however, did I feel the smallest temptation to become an author.
I perceived at a very early period that a woman who acquires this title
loses far more than she gains. She forfeits the affections of the male
sex, and provokes the criticisms of her own. If her works be bad, she is
ridiculed, and not without reason; if good, her right to them is
disputed; or if envy be forced to acknowledge the best part to be her
own, her character, her morals, her conduct, and her talents are
scrutinized in such a manner that the reputation of her genius is fully
counterbalanced by the publicity given to her defects. Besides, my
happiness was my chief concern, and I never saw the public intermeddle
with that of any one without marring it.... During twelve years of my
life I shared in my husband's labors as I participated in his repasts,
because one was as natural to me as the other. If any part of his works
happened to be quoted in which particular graces of style were
discovered, or if a flattering reception was given to any of the
academic trifles, which he took a pleasure in transmitting to the
learned societies, of which he was a member, I partook of his
satisfaction without reminding him that it was my own composition.
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