women have burnt like beacons in all the works of all the poets from the beginning of time. indeed if woman had no existence save in the fiction written by men, one would imagine her a person of the utmost importance; very various; heroic and mean; splendid and sordid; beautiful and hideous in the extreme; as great as a man, some would say greater. but this is woman in fiction. in fact, as professor trevelyan points out, she was locked up, beaten and flung about the room. a very queer, composite being thus emerges. imaginatively she is of the highest importance; practically she is completely insignificant. she pervades poetry from cover to cover; she is all but absent from history. she dominates the lives of kings and conquerors in fiction; in fact she was the slave of any boy whose parents forced a ring upon her finger. some of the most inspired words and profound thoughts in literature fall from her lips; in real life she could hardly read; scarcely spell; and was the property of her husband.