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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Posthumous Works, by Mary Wollstonecraft
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Posthumous Works
+       of the Author of A Vindication of the Rights of Woman
+
+Author: Mary Wollstonecraft
+
+Editor: William Godwin
+
+Release Date: October 29, 2007 [EBook #23233]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POSTHUMOUS WORKS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Online Distributed Proofreading
+Team at http://www.pgdp.net and the booksmiths at
+http://www.eBookForge.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+POSTHUMOUS WORKS
+
+OF
+
+MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT GODWIN.
+
+VOL. I.
+
+
+POSTHUMOUS WORKS
+
+OF THE
+
+AUTHOR
+
+OF A
+
+VINDICATION OF THE RIGHTS OF WOMAN.
+
+IN FOUR VOLUMES.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+VOL. I.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+_LONDON:_
+
+PRINTED FOR J. JOHNSON, NO. 72, ST. PAUL'S
+  CHURCH-YARD; AND G. G. AND J. ROBINSON,
+              PATERNOSTER-ROW.
+                   1798.
+
+
+THE
+
+WRONGS OF WOMAN:
+
+OR,
+
+MARIA.
+
+A FRAGMENT.
+
+IN TWO VOLUMES.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+VOL. I.
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE.
+
+
+THE public are here presented with the last literary attempt of an
+author, whose fame has been uncommonly extensive, and whose talents have
+probably been most admired, by the persons by whom talents are estimated
+with the greatest accuracy and discrimination. There are few, to whom her
+writings could in any case have given pleasure, that would have wished
+that this fragment should have been suppressed, because it is a fragment.
+There is a sentiment, very dear to minds of taste and imagination, that
+finds a melancholy delight in contemplating these unfinished productions
+of genius, these sketches of what, if they had been filled up in a manner
+adequate to the writer's conception, would perhaps have given a new
+impulse to the manners of a world.
+
+The purpose and structure of the following work, had long formed a
+favourite subject of meditation with its author, and she judged them
+capable of producing an important effect. The composition had been in
+progress for a period of twelve months. She was anxious to do justice to
+her conception, and recommenced and revised the manuscript several
+different times. So much of it as is here given to the public, she was
+far from considering as finished, and, in a letter to a friend directly
+written on this subject, she says, "I am perfectly aware that some of the
+incidents ought to be transposed, and heightened by more harmonious
+shading; and I wished in some degree to avail myself of criticism, before
+I began to adjust my events into a story, the outline of which I had
+sketched in my mind[x-A]." The only friends to whom the author
+communicated her manuscript, were Mr. Dyson, the translator of the
+Sorcerer, and the present editor; and it was impossible for the most
+inexperienced author to display a stronger desire of profiting by the
+censures and sentiments that might be suggested[x-B].
+
+In revising these sheets for the press, it was necessary for the editor,
+in some places, to connect the more finished parts with the pages of an
+older copy, and a line or two in addition sometimes appeared requisite
+for that purpose. Wherever such a liberty has been taken, the additional
+phrases will be found inclosed in brackets; it being the editor's most
+earnest desire, to intrude nothing of himself into the work, but to give
+to the public the words, as well as ideas, of the real author.
+
+What follows in the ensuing pages, is not a preface regularly drawn out
+by the author, but merely hints for a preface, which, though never filled
+up in the manner the writer intended, appeared to be worth preserving.
+
+W. GODWIN.
+
+
+
+
+AUTHOR'S PREFACE.
+
+
+THE Wrongs of Woman, like the wrongs of the oppressed part of mankind,
+may be deemed necessary by their oppressors: but surely there are a few,
+who will dare to advance before the improvement of the age, and grant
+that my sketches are not the abortion of a distempered fancy, or the
+strong delineations of a wounded heart.
+
+In writing this novel, I have rather endeavoured to pourtray passions
+than manners.
+
+In many instances I could have made the incidents more dramatic, would I
+have sacrificed my main object, the desire of exhibiting the misery and
+oppression, peculiar to women, that arise out of the partial laws and
+customs of society.
+
+In the invention of the story, this view restrained my fancy; and the
+history ought rather to be considered, as of woman, than of an
+individual.
+
+The sentiments I have embodied.
+
+In many works of this species, the hero is allowed to be mortal, and to
+become wise and virtuous as well as happy, by a train of events and
+circumstances. The heroines, on the contrary, are to be born immaculate;
+and to act like goddesses of wisdom, just come forth highly finished
+Minervas from the head of Jove.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[The following is an extract of a letter from the author to a friend, to
+whom she communicated her manuscript.]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+For my part, I cannot suppose any situation more distressing, than for a
+woman of sensibility, with an improving mind, to be bound to such a man
+as I have described for life; obliged to renounce all the humanizing
+affections, and to avoid cultivating her taste, lest her perception of
+grace and refinement of sentiment, should sharpen to agony the pangs of
+disappointment. Love, in which the imagination mingles its bewitching
+colouring, must be fostered by delicacy. I should despise, or rather call
+her an ordinary woman, who could endure such a husband as I have
+sketched.
+
+These appear to me (matrimonial despotism of heart and conduct) to be the
+peculiar Wrongs of Woman, because they degrade the mind. What are termed
+great misfortunes, may more forcibly impress the mind of common readers;
+they have more of what may justly be termed _stage-effect_; but it is the
+delineation of finer sensations, which, in my opinion, constitutes the
+merit of our best novels. This is what I have in view; and to show the
+wrongs of different classes of women, equally oppressive, though, from
+the difference of education, necessarily various.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[x-A] A more copious extract of this letter is subjoined to the author's
+preface.
+
+[x-B] The part communicated consisted of the first fourteen chapters.
+
+
+
+
+ERRATA.
+
+Page 3, line 2, _dele_ half.
+
+P. 81 and 118, _for_ brackets [--], _read_ inverted commas " thus "
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+VOL. I. AND II.
+
+The Wrongs of Woman, or Maria; a Fragment:
+to which is added, the First Book
+of a Series of Lessons for Children.
+
+VOL. III. AND IV.
+
+Letters and Miscellaneous Pieces.
+
+
+
+
+_WRONGS_
+
+OF
+
+WOMAN.
+
+
+
+
+CHAP. I.
+
+
+ABODES of horror have frequently been described, and castles, filled with
+spectres and chimeras, conjured up by the magic spell of genius to harrow
+the soul, and absorb the wondering mind. But, formed of such stuff as
+dreams are made of, what were they to the mansion of despair, in one
+corner of which Maria sat, endeavouring to recal her scattered thoughts!
+
+Surprise, astonishment, that bordered on distraction, seemed to have
+suspended her faculties, till, waking by degrees to a keen sense of
+anguish, a whirlwind of rage and indignation roused her torpid pulse. One
+recollection with frightful velocity following another, threatened to
+fire her brain, and make her a fit companion for the terrific
+inhabitants, whose groans and shrieks were no unsubstantial sounds of
+whistling winds, or startled birds, modulated by a romantic fancy, which
+amuse while they affright; but such tones of misery as carry a dreadful
+certainty directly to the heart. What effect must they then have produced
+on one, true to the touch of sympathy, and tortured by maternal
+apprehension!
+
+Her infant's image was continually floating on Maria's sight, and the
+first smile of intelligence remembered, as none but a mother, an unhappy
+mother, can conceive. She heard her half speaking cooing, and felt the
+little twinkling fingers on her burning bosom--a bosom bursting with the
+nutriment for which this cherished child might now be pining in vain.
+From a stranger she could indeed receive the maternal aliment, Maria was
+grieved at the thought--but who would watch her with a mother's
+tenderness, a mother's self-denial?
+
+The retreating shadows of former sorrows rushed back in a gloomy train,
+and seemed to be pictured on the walls of her prison, magnified by the
+state of mind in which they were viewed--Still she mourned for her child,
+lamented she was a daughter, and anticipated the aggravated ills of life
+that her sex rendered almost inevitable, even while dreading she was no
+more. To think that she was blotted out of existence was agony, when the
+imagination had been long employed to expand her faculties; yet to
+suppose her turned adrift on an unknown sea, was scarcely less
+afflicting.
+
+After being two days the prey of impetuous, varying emotions, Maria began
+to reflect more calmly on her present situation, for she had actually
+been rendered incapable of sober reflection, by the discovery of the act
+of atrocity of which she was the victim. She could not have imagined,
+that, in all the fermentation of civilized depravity, a similar plot
+could have entered a human mind. She had been stunned by an unexpected
+blow; yet life, however joyless, was not to be indolently resigned, or
+misery endured without exertion, and proudly termed patience. She had
+hitherto meditated only to point the dart of anguish, and suppressed the
+heart heavings of indignant nature merely by the force of contempt. Now
+she endeavoured to brace her mind to fortitude, and to ask herself what
+was to be her employment in her dreary cell? Was it not to effect her
+escape, to fly to the succour of her child, and to baffle the selfish
+schemes of her tyrant--her husband?
+
+These thoughts roused her sleeping spirit, and the self-possession
+returned, that seemed to have abandoned her in the infernal solitude into
+which she had been precipitated. The first emotions of overwhelming
+impatience began to subside, and resentment gave place to tenderness, and
+more tranquil meditation; though anger once more stopt the calm current
+of reflection, when she attempted to move her manacled arms. But this
+was an outrage that could only excite momentary feelings of scorn, which
+evaporated in a faint smile; for Maria was far from thinking a personal
+insult the most difficult to endure with magnanimous indifference.
+
+She approached the small grated window of her chamber, and for a
+considerable time only regarded the blue expanse; though it commanded a
+view of a desolate garden, and of part of a huge pile of buildings, that,
+after having been suffered, for half a century, to fall to decay, had
+undergone some clumsy repairs, merely to render it habitable. The ivy had
+been torn off the turrets, and the stones not wanted to patch up the
+breaches of time, and exclude the warring elements, left in heaps in the
+disordered court. Maria contemplated this scene she knew not how long; or
+rather gazed on the walls, and pondered on her situation. To the master
+of this most horrid of prisons, she had, soon after her entrance, raved
+of injustice, in accents that would have justified his treatment, had not
+a malignant smile, when she appealed to his judgment, with a dreadful
+conviction stifled her remonstrating complaints. By force, or openly,
+what could be done? But surely some expedient might occur to an active
+mind, without any other employment, and possessed of sufficient
+resolution to put the risk of life into the balance with the chance of
+freedom.
+
+A woman entered in the midst of these reflections, with a firm,
+deliberate step, strongly marked features, and large black eyes, which
+she fixed steadily on Maria's, as if she designed to intimidate her,
+saying at the same time--"You had better sit down and eat your dinner,
+than look at the clouds."
+
+"I have no appetite," replied Maria, who had previously determined to
+speak mildly, "why then should I eat?"
+
+"But, in spite of that, you must and shall eat something. I have had many
+ladies under my care, who have resolved to starve themselves; but, soon
+or late, they gave up their intent, as they recovered their senses."
+
+"Do you really think me mad?" asked Maria, meeting the searching glance
+of her eye.
+
+"Not just now. But what does that prove?--only that you must be the more
+carefully watched, for appearing at times so reasonable. You have not
+touched a morsel since you entered the house."--Maria sighed
+intelligibly.--"Could any thing but madness produce such a disgust for
+food?"
+
+"Yes, grief; you would not ask the question if you knew what it was." The
+attendant shook her head; and a ghastly smile of desperate fortitude
+served as a forcible reply, and made Maria pause, before she added--"Yet
+I will take some refreshment: I mean not to die.--No; I will preserve my
+senses; and convince even you, sooner than you are aware of, that my
+intellects have never been disturbed, though the exertion of them may
+have been suspended by some infernal drug."
+
+Doubt gathered still thicker on the brow of her guard, as she attempted
+to convict her of mistake.
+
+"Have patience!" exclaimed Maria, with a solemnity that inspired awe. "My
+God! how have I been schooled into the practice!" A suffocation of voice
+betrayed the agonizing emotions she was labouring to keep down; and
+conquering a qualm of disgust, she calmly endeavoured to eat enough to
+prove her docility, perpetually turning to the suspicious female, whose
+observation she courted, while she was making the bed and adjusting the
+room.
+
+"Come to me often," said Maria, with a tone of persuasion, in consequence
+of a vague plan that she had hastily adopted, when, after surveying this
+woman's form and features, she felt convinced that she had an
+understanding above the common standard; "and believe me mad, till you
+are obliged to acknowledge the contrary." The woman was no fool, that is,
+she was superior to her class; nor had misery quite petrified the
+life's-blood of humanity, to which reflections on our own misfortunes
+only give a more orderly course. The manner, rather than the
+expostulations, of Maria made a slight suspicion dart into her mind with
+corresponding sympathy, which various other avocations, and the habit of
+banishing compunction, prevented her, for the present, from examining
+more minutely.
+
+But when she was told that no person, excepting the physician appointed
+by her family, was to be permitted to see the lady at the end of the
+gallery, she opened her keen eyes still wider, and uttered a--"hem!"
+before she enquired--"Why?" She was briefly told, in reply, that the
+malady was hereditary, and the fits not occurring but at very long and
+irregular intervals, she must be carefully watched; for the length of
+these lucid periods only rendered her more mischievous, when any vexation
+or caprice brought on the paroxysm of phrensy.
+
+Had her master trusted her, it is probable that neither pity nor
+curiosity would have made her swerve from the straight line of her
+interest; for she had suffered too much in her intercourse with mankind,
+not to determine to look for support, rather to humouring their passions,
+than courting their approbation by the integrity of her conduct. A deadly
+blight had met her at the very threshold of existence; and the
+wretchedness of her mother seemed a heavy weight fastened on her innocent
+neck, to drag her down to perdition. She could not heroically determine
+to succour an unfortunate; but, offended at the bare supposition that she
+could be deceived with the same ease as a common servant, she no longer
+curbed her curiosity; and, though she never seriously fathomed her own
+intentions, she would sit, every moment she could steal from observation,
+listening to the tale, which Maria was eager to relate with all the
+persuasive eloquence of grief.
+
+It is so cheering to see a human face, even if little of the divinity of
+virtue beam in it, that Maria anxiously expected the return of the
+attendant, as of a gleam of light to break the gloom of idleness.
+Indulged sorrow; she perceived, must blunt or sharpen the faculties to
+the two opposite extremes; producing stupidity, the moping melancholy of
+indolence; or the restless activity of a disturbed imagination. She sunk
+into one state, after being fatigued by the other: till the want of
+occupation became even more painful than the actual pressure or
+apprehension of sorrow; and the confinement that froze her into a nook of
+existence, with an unvaried prospect before her, the most insupportable
+of evils. The lamp of life seemed to be spending itself to chase the
+vapours of a dungeon which no art could dissipate.--And to what purpose
+did she rally all her energy?--Was not the world a vast prison, and women
+born slaves?
+
+Though she failed immediately to rouse a lively sense of injustice in the
+mind of her guard, because it had been sophisticated into misanthropy,
+she touched her heart. Jemima (she had only a claim to a Christian name,
+which had not procured her any Christian privileges) could patiently hear
+of Maria's confinement on false pretences; she had felt the crushing hand
+of power, hardened by the exercise of injustice, and ceased to wonder at
+the perversions of the understanding, which systematize oppression; but,
+when told that her child, only four months old, had been torn from her,
+even while she was discharging the tenderest maternal office, the woman
+awoke in a bosom long estranged from feminine emotions, and Jemima
+determined to alleviate all in her power, without hazarding the loss of
+her place, the sufferings of a wretched mother, apparently injured, and
+certainly unhappy. A sense of right seems to result from the simplest act
+of reason, and to preside over the faculties of the mind, like the
+master-sense of feeling, to rectify the rest; but (for the comparison may
+be carried still farther) how often is the exquisite sensibility of both
+weakened or destroyed by the vulgar occupations, and ignoble pleasures of
+life?
+
+The preserving her situation was, indeed, an important object to Jemima,
+who had been hunted from hole to hole, as if she had been a beast of
+prey, or infected with a moral plague. The wages she received, the
+greater part of which she hoarded, as her only chance for independence,
+were much more considerable than she could reckon on obtaining any where
+else, were it possible that she, an outcast from society, could be
+permitted to earn a subsistence in a reputable family. Hearing Maria
+perpetually complain of listlessness, and the not being able to beguile
+grief by resuming her customary pursuits, she was easily prevailed on, by
+compassion, and that involuntary respect for abilities, which those who
+possess them can never eradicate, to bring her some books and implements
+for writing. Maria's conversation had amused and interested her, and the
+natural consequence was a desire, scarcely observed by herself, of
+obtaining the esteem of a person she admired. The remembrance of better
+days was rendered more lively; and the sentiments then acquired appearing
+less romantic than they had for a long period, a spark of hope roused
+her mind to new activity.
+
+How grateful was her attention to Maria! Oppressed by a dead weight of
+existence, or preyed on by the gnawing worm of discontent, with what
+eagerness did she endeavour to shorten the long days, which left no
+traces behind! She seemed to be sailing on the vast ocean of life,
+without seeing any land-mark to indicate the progress of time; to find
+employment was then to find variety, the animating principle of nature.
+
+
+
+
+CHAP. II.
+
+
+EARNESTLY as Maria endeavoured to soothe, by reading, the anguish of her
+wounded mind, her thoughts would often wander from the subject she was
+led to discuss, and tears of maternal tenderness obscured the reasoning
+page. She descanted on "the ills which flesh is heir to," with
+bitterness, when the recollection of her babe was revived by a tale of
+fictitious woe, that bore any resemblance to her own; and her imagination
+was continually employed, to conjure up and embody the various phantoms
+of misery, which folly and vice had let loose on the world. The loss of
+her babe was the tender string; against other cruel remembrances she
+laboured to steel her bosom; and even a ray of hope, in the midst of her
+gloomy reveries, would sometimes gleam on the dark horizon of futurity,
+while persuading herself that she ought to cease to hope, since happiness
+was no where to be found.--But of her child, debilitated by the grief
+with which its mother had been assailed before it saw the light, she
+could not think without an impatient struggle.
+
+"I, alone, by my active tenderness, could have saved," she would exclaim,
+"from an early blight, this sweet blossom; and, cherishing it, I should
+have had something still to love."
+
+In proportion as other expectations were torn from her, this tender one
+had been fondly clung to, and knit into her heart.
+
+The books she had obtained, were soon devoured, by one who had no other
+resource to escape from sorrow, and the feverish dreams of ideal
+wretchedness or felicity, which equally weaken the intoxicated
+sensibility. Writing was then the only alternative, and she wrote some
+rhapsodies descriptive of the state of her mind; but the events of her
+past life pressing on her, she resolved circumstantially to relate them,
+with the sentiments that experience, and more matured reason, would
+naturally suggest. They might perhaps instruct her daughter, and shield
+her from the misery, the tyranny, her mother knew not how to avoid.
+
+This thought gave life to her diction, her soul flowed into it, and she
+soon found the task of recollecting almost obliterated impressions very
+interesting. She lived again in the revived emotions of youth, and
+forgot her present in the retrospect of sorrows that had assumed an
+unalterable character.
+
+Though this employment lightened the weight of time, yet, never losing
+sight of her main object, Maria did not allow any opportunity to slip of
+winning on the affections of Jemima; for she discovered in her a strength
+of mind, that excited her esteem, clouded as it was by the misanthropy of
+despair.
+
+An insulated being, from the misfortune of her birth, she despised and
+preyed on the society by which she had been oppressed, and loved not her
+fellow-creatures, because she had never been beloved. No mother had ever
+fondled her, no father or brother had protected her from outrage; and the
+man who had plunged her into infamy, and deserted her when she stood in
+greatest need of support, deigned not to smooth with kindness the road to
+ruin. Thus degraded, was she let loose on the world; and virtue, never
+nurtured by affection, assumed the stern aspect of selfish independence.
+
+This general view of her life, Maria gathered from her exclamations and
+dry remarks. Jemima indeed displayed a strange mixture of interest and
+suspicion; for she would listen to her with earnestness, and then
+suddenly interrupt the conversation, as if afraid of resigning, by giving
+way to her sympathy, her dear-bought knowledge of the world.
+
+Maria alluded to the possibility of an escape, and mentioned a
+compensation, or reward; but the style in which she was repulsed made her
+cautious, and determine not to renew the subject, till she knew more of
+the character she had to work on. Jemima's countenance, and dark hints,
+seemed to say, "You are an extraordinary woman; but let me consider, this
+may only be one of your lucid intervals." Nay, the very energy of Maria's
+character, made her suspect that the extraordinary animation she
+perceived might be the effect of madness. "Should her husband then
+substantiate his charge, and get possession of her estate, from whence
+would come the promised annuity, or more desired protection? Besides,
+might not a woman, anxious to escape, conceal some of the circumstances
+which made against her? Was truth to be expected from one who had been
+entrapped, kidnapped, in the most fraudulent manner?"
+
+In this train Jemima continued to argue, the moment after compassion and
+respect seemed to make her swerve; and she still resolved not to be
+wrought on to do more than soften the rigour of confinement, till she
+could advance on surer ground.
+
+Maria was not permitted to walk in the garden; but sometimes, from her
+window, she turned her eyes from the gloomy walls, in which she pined
+life away, on the poor wretches who strayed along the walks, and
+contemplated the most terrific of ruins--that of a human soul. What is
+the view of the fallen column, the mouldering arch, of the most exquisite
+workmanship, when compared with this living memento of the fragility, the
+instability, of reason, and the wild luxuriancy of noxious passions?
+Enthusiasm turned adrift, like some rich stream overflowing its banks,
+rushes forward with destructive velocity, inspiring a sublime
+concentration of thought. Thus thought Maria--These are the ravages over
+which humanity must ever mournfully ponder, with a degree of anguish not
+excited by crumbling marble, or cankering brass, unfaithful to the trust
+of monumental fame. It is not over the decaying productions of the mind,
+embodied with the happiest art, we grieve most bitterly. The view of what
+has been done by man, produces a melancholy, yet aggrandizing, sense of
+what remains to be achieved by human intellect; but a mental convulsion,
+which, like the devastation of an earthquake, throws all the elements of
+thought and imagination into confusion, makes contemplation giddy, and
+we fearfully ask on what ground we ourselves stand.
+
+Melancholy and imbecility marked the features of the wretches allowed to
+breathe at large; for the frantic, those who in a strong imagination had
+lost a sense of woe, were closely confined. The playful tricks and
+mischievous devices of their disturbed fancy, that suddenly broke out,
+could not be guarded against, when they were permitted to enjoy any
+portion of freedom; for, so active was their imagination, that every new
+object which accidentally struck their senses, awoke to phrenzy their
+restless passions; as Maria learned from the burden of their incessant
+ravings.
+
+Sometimes, with a strict injunction of silence, Jemima would allow
+Maria, at the close of evening, to stray along the narrow avenues that
+separated the dungeon-like apartments, leaning on her arm. What a change
+of scene! Maria wished to pass the threshold of her prison, yet, when by
+chance she met the eye of rage glaring on her, yet unfaithful to its
+office, she shrunk back with more horror and affright, than if she had
+stumbled over a mangled corpse. Her busy fancy pictured the misery of a
+fond heart, watching over a friend thus estranged, absent, though
+present--over a poor wretch lost to reason and the social joys of
+existence; and losing all consciousness of misery in its excess. What a
+task, to watch the light of reason quivering in the eye, or with
+agonizing expectation to catch the beam of recollection; tantalized by
+hope, only to feel despair more keenly, at finding a much loved face or
+voice, suddenly remembered, or pathetically implored, only to be
+immediately forgotten, or viewed with indifference or abhorrence!
+
+The heart-rending sigh of melancholy sunk into her soul; and when she
+retired to rest, the petrified figures she had encountered, the only
+human forms she was doomed to observe, haunting her dreams with tales of
+mysterious wrongs, made her wish to sleep to dream no more.
+
+Day after day rolled away, and tedious as the present moment appeared,
+they passed in such an unvaried tenor, Maria was surprised to find that
+she had already been six weeks buried alive, and yet had such faint hopes
+of effecting her enlargement. She was, earnestly as she had sought for
+employment, now angry with herself for having been amused by writing her
+narrative; and grieved to think that she had for an instant thought of
+any thing, but contriving to escape.
+
+Jemima had evidently pleasure in her society: still, though she often
+left her with a glow of kindness, she returned with the same chilling
+air; and, when her heart appeared for a moment to open, some suggestion
+of reason forcibly closed it, before she could give utterance to the
+confidence Maria's conversation inspired.
+
+Discouraged by these changes, Maria relapsed into despondency, when she
+was cheered by the alacrity with which Jemima brought her a fresh parcel
+of books; assuring her, that she had taken some pains to obtain them from
+one of the keepers, who attended a gentleman confined in the opposite
+corner of the gallery.
+
+Maria took up the books with emotion. "They come," said she, "perhaps,
+from a wretch condemned, like me, to reason on the nature of madness, by
+having wrecked minds continually under his eye; and almost to wish
+himself--as I do--mad, to escape from the contemplation of it." Her heart
+throbbed with sympathetic alarm; and she turned over the leaves with awe,
+as if they had become sacred from passing through the hands of an
+unfortunate being, oppressed by a similar fate.
+
+Dryden's Fables, Milton's Paradise Lost, with several modern productions,
+composed the collection. It was a mine of treasure. Some marginal notes,
+in Dryden's Fables, caught her attention: they were written with force
+and taste; and, in one of the modern pamphlets, there was a fragment
+left, containing various observations on the present state of society and
+government, with a comparative view of the politics of Europe and
+America. These remarks were written with a degree of generous warmth,
+when alluding to the enslaved state of the labouring majority, perfectly
+in unison with Maria's mode of thinking.
+
+She read them over and over again; and fancy, treacherous fancy, began to
+sketch a character, congenial with her own, from these shadowy
+outlines.--"Was he mad?" She re-perused the marginal notes, and they
+seemed the production of an animated, but not of a disturbed imagination.
+Confined to this speculation, every time she re-read them, some fresh
+refinement of sentiment, or acuteness of thought impressed her, which
+she was astonished at herself for not having before observed.
+
+What a creative power has an affectionate heart! There are beings who
+cannot live without loving, as poets love; and who feel the electric
+spark of genius, wherever it awakens sentiment or grace. Maria had often
+thought, when disciplining her wayward heart, "that to charm, was to be
+virtuous." "They who make me wish to appear the most amiable and good in
+their eyes, must possess in a degree," she would exclaim, "the graces and
+virtues they call into action."
+
+She took up a book on the powers of the human mind; but, her attention
+strayed from cold arguments on the nature of what she felt, while she
+was feeling, and she snapt the chain of the theory to read Dryden's
+Guiscard and Sigismunda.
+
+Maria, in the course of the ensuing day, returned some of the books, with
+the hope of getting others--and more marginal notes. Thus shut out from
+human intercourse, and compelled to view nothing but the prison of vexed
+spirits, to meet a wretch in the same situation, was more surely to find
+a friend, than to imagine a countryman one, in a strange land, where the
+human voice conveys no information to the eager ear.
+
+"Did you ever see the unfortunate being to whom these books belong?"
+asked Maria, when Jemima brought her supper. "Yes. He sometimes walks
+out, between five and six, before the family is stirring, in the
+morning, with two keepers; but even then his hands are confined."
+
+"What! is he so unruly?" enquired Maria, with an accent of
+disappointment.
+
+"No, not that I perceive," replied Jemima; "but he has an untamed look, a
+vehemence of eye, that excites apprehension. Were his hands free, he
+looks as if he could soon manage both his guards: yet he appears
+tranquil."
+
+"If he be so strong, he must be young," observed Maria.
+
+"Three or four and thirty, I suppose; but there is no judging of a person
+in his situation."
+
+"Are you sure that he is mad?" interrupted Maria with eagerness. Jemima
+quitted the room, without replying.
+
+"No, no, he certainly is not!" exclaimed Maria, answering herself; "the
+man who could write those observations was not disordered in his
+intellects."
+
+She sat musing, gazing at the moon, and watching its motion as it seemed
+to glide under the clouds. Then, preparing for bed, she thought, "Of what
+use could I be to him, or he to me, if it be true that he is unjustly
+confined?--Could he aid me to escape, who is himself more closely
+watched?--Still I should like to see him." She went to bed, dreamed of
+her child, yet woke exactly at half after five o'clock, and starting up,
+only wrapped a gown around her, and ran to the window. The morning was
+chill, it was the latter end of September; yet she did not retire to warm
+herself and think in bed, till the sound of the servants, moving about
+the house, convinced her that the unknown would not walk in the garden
+that morning. She was ashamed at feeling disappointed; and began to
+reflect, as an excuse to herself, on the little objects which attract
+attention when there is nothing to divert the mind; and how difficult it
+was for women to avoid growing romantic, who have no active duties or
+pursuits.
+
+At breakfast, Jemima enquired whether she understood French? for, unless
+she did, the stranger's stock of books was exhausted. Maria replied in
+the affirmative; but forbore to ask any more questions respecting the
+person to whom they belonged. And Jemima gave her a new subject for
+contemplation, by describing the person of a lovely maniac, just brought
+into an adjoining chamber. She was singing the pathetic ballad of old Rob
+                 with the most heart-melting falls and pauses. Jemima had
+half-opened the door, when she distinguished her voice, and Maria stood
+close to it, scarcely daring to respire, lest a modulation should escape
+her, so exquisitely sweet, so passionately wild. She began with sympathy
+to pourtray to herself another victim, when the lovely warbler flew, as
+it were, from the spray, and a torrent of unconnected exclamations and
+questions burst from her, interrupted by fits of laughter, so horrid,
+that Maria shut the door, and, turning her eyes up to heaven,
+exclaimed--"Gracious God!"
+
+Several minutes elapsed before Maria could enquire respecting the rumour
+of the house (for this poor wretch was obviously not confined without a
+cause); and then Jemima could only tell her, that it was said, "she had
+been married, against her inclination, to a rich old man, extremely
+jealous (no wonder, for she was a charming creature); and that, in
+consequence of his treatment, or something which hung on her mind, she
+had, during her first lying-in, lost her senses."
+
+What a subject of meditation--even to the very confines of madness.
+
+"Woman, fragile flower! why were you suffered to adorn a world exposed to
+the inroad of such stormy elements?" thought Maria, while the poor
+maniac's strain was still breathing on her ear, and sinking into her very
+soul.
+
+Towards the evening, Jemima brought her Rousseau's _Heloïse_; and she sat
+reading with eyes and heart, till the return of her guard to extinguish
+the light. One instance of her kindness was, the permitting Maria to have
+one, till her own hour of retiring to rest. She had read this work long
+since; but now it seemed to open a new world to her--the only one worth
+inhabiting. Sleep was not to be wooed; yet, far from being fatigued by
+the restless rotation of thought, she rose and opened her window, just as
+the thin watery clouds of twilight made the long silent shadows visible.
+The air swept across her face with a voluptuous freshness that thrilled
+to her heart, awakening indefinable emotions; and the sound of a waving
+branch, or the twittering of a startled bird, alone broke the stillness
+of reposing nature. Absorbed by the sublime sensibility which renders the
+consciousness of existence felicity, Maria was happy, till an autumnal
+scent, wafted by the breeze of morn from the fallen leaves of the
+adjacent wood, made her recollect that the season had changed since her
+confinement; yet life afforded no variety to solace an afflicted heart.
+She returned dispirited to her couch, and thought of her child till the
+broad glare of day again invited her to the window. She looked not for
+the unknown, still how great was her vexation at perceiving the back of a
+man, certainly he, with his two attendants, as he turned into a side-path
+which led to the house! A confused recollection of having seen somebody
+who resembled him, immediately occurred, to puzzle and torment her with
+endless conjectures. Five minutes sooner, and she should have seen his
+face, and been out of suspense--was ever any thing so unlucky! His
+steady, bold step, and the whole air of his person, bursting as it were
+from a cloud, pleased her, and gave an outline to the imagination to
+sketch the individual form she wished to recognize.
+
+Feeling the disappointment more severely than she was willing to believe,
+she flew to Rousseau, as her only refuge from the idea of him, who might
+prove a friend, could she but find a way to interest him in her fate;
+still the personification of Saint Preux, or of an ideal lover far
+superior, was after this imperfect model, of which merely a glance had
+been caught, even to the minutiæ of the coat and hat of the stranger.
+But if she lent St. Preux, or the demi-god of her fancy, his form, she
+richly repaid him by the donation of all St. Preux's sentiments and
+feelings, culled to gratify her own, to which he seemed to have an
+undoubted right, when she read on the margin of an impassioned letter,
+written in the well-known hand--"Rousseau alone, the true Prometheus of
+sentiment, possessed the fire of genius necessary to pourtray the
+passion, the truth of which goes so directly to the heart."
+
+Maria was again true to the hour, yet had finished Rousseau, and begun to
+transcribe some selected passages; unable to quit either the author or
+the window, before she had a glimpse of the countenance she daily longed
+to see; and, when seen, it conveyed no distinct idea to her mind where
+she had seen it before. He must have been a transient acquaintance; but
+to discover an acquaintance was fortunate, could she contrive to attract
+his attention, and excite his sympathy.
+
+Every glance afforded colouring for the picture she was delineating on
+her heart; and once, when the window was half open, the sound of his
+voice reached her. Conviction flashed on her; she had certainly, in a
+moment of distress, heard the same accents. They were manly, and
+characteristic of a noble mind; nay, even sweet--or sweet they seemed to
+her attentive ear.
+
+She started back, trembling, alarmed at the emotion a strange coincidence
+of circumstances inspired, and wondering why she thought so much of a
+stranger, obliged as she had been by his timely interference; [for she
+recollected, by degrees, all the circumstances of their former meeting.]
+She found however that she could think of nothing else; or, if she
+thought of her daughter, it was to wish that she had a father whom her
+mother could respect and love.
+
+
+
+
+CHAP. III.
+
+
+WHEN perusing the first parcel of books, Maria had, with her pencil,
+written in one of them a few exclamations, expressive of compassion and
+sympathy, which she scarcely remembered, till turning over the leaves of
+one of the volumes, lately brought to her, a slip of paper dropped out,
+which Jemima hastily snatched up.
+
+"Let me see it," demanded Maria impatiently, "You surely are not afraid
+of trusting me with the effusions of a madman?" "I must consider,"
+replied Jemima; and withdrew, with the paper in her hand.
+
+In a life of such seclusion, the passions gain undue force; Maria
+therefore felt a great degree of resentment and vexation, which she had
+not time to subdue, before Jemima, returning, delivered the paper.
+
+     "Whoever you are, who partake of my fate, accept my sincere
+     commiseration--I would have said protection; but the privilege of
+     man is denied me.
+
+     "My own situation forces a dreadful suspicion on my mind--I may
+     not always languish in vain for freedom--say are you--I cannot
+     ask the question; yet I will remember you when my remembrance can
+     be of any use. I will enquire, _why_ you are so mysteriously
+     detained--and I _will_ have an answer.
+
+     "HENRY DARNFORD."
+
+By the most pressing intreaties, Maria prevailed on Jemima to permit her
+to write a reply to this note. Another and another succeeded, in which
+explanations were not allowed relative to their present situation; but
+Maria, with sufficient explicitness, alluded to a former obligation; and
+they insensibly entered on an interchange of sentiments on the most
+important subjects. To write these letters was the business of the day,
+and to receive them the moment of sunshine. By some means, Darnford
+having discovered Maria's window, when she next appeared at it, he made
+her, behind his keepers, a profound bow of respect and recognition.
+
+Two or three weeks glided away in this kind of intercourse, during which
+period Jemima, to whom Maria had given the necessary information
+respecting her family, had evidently gained some intelligence, which
+increased her desire of pleasing her charge, though she could not yet
+determine to liberate her. Maria took advantage of this favourable
+charge, without too minutely enquiring into the cause; and such was her
+eagerness to hold human converse, and to see her former protector, still
+a stranger to her, that she incessantly requested her guard to gratify
+her more than curiosity.
+
+Writing to Darnford, she was led from the sad objects before her, and
+frequently rendered insensible to the horrid noises around her, which
+previously had continually employed her feverish fancy. Thinking it
+selfish to dwell on her own sufferings, when in the midst of wretches,
+who had not only lost all that endears life, but their very selves, her
+imagination was occupied with melancholy earnestness to trace the mazes
+of misery, through which so many wretches must have passed to this gloomy
+receptacle of disjointed souls, to the grand source of human corruption.
+Often at midnight was she waked by the dismal shrieks of demoniac rage,
+or of excruciating despair, uttered in such wild tones of indescribable
+anguish as proved the total absence of reason, and roused phantoms of
+horror in her mind, far more terrific than all that dreaming superstition
+ever drew. Besides, there was frequently something so inconceivably
+picturesque in the varying gestures of unrestrained passion, so
+irresistibly comic in their sallies, or so heart-piercingly pathetic in
+the little airs they would sing, frequently bursting out after an awful
+silence, as to fascinate the attention, and amuse the fancy, while
+torturing the soul. It was the uproar of the passions which she was
+compelled to observe; and to mark the lucid beam of reason, like a light
+trembling in a socket, or like the flash which divides the threatening
+clouds of angry heaven only to display the horrors which darkness
+shrouded.
+
+Jemima would labour to beguile the tedious evenings, by describing the
+persons and manners of the unfortunate beings, whose figures or voices
+awoke sympathetic sorrow in Maria's bosom; and the stories she told were
+the more interesting, for perpetually leaving room to conjecture
+something extraordinary. Still Maria, accustomed to generalize her
+observations, was led to conclude from all she heard, that it was a
+vulgar error to suppose that people of abilities were the most apt to
+lose the command of reason. On the contrary, from most of the instances
+she could investigate, she thought it resulted, that the passions only
+appeared strong and disproportioned, because the judgment was weak and
+unexercised; and that they gained strength by the decay of reason, as the
+shadows lengthen during the sun's decline.
+
+Maria impatiently wished to see her fellow-sufferer; but Darnford was
+still more earnest to obtain an interview. Accustomed to submit to every
+impulse of passion, and never taught, like women, to restrain the most
+natural, and acquire, instead of the bewitching frankness of nature, a
+factitious propriety of behaviour, every desire became a torrent that
+bore down all opposition.
+
+His travelling trunk, which contained the books lent to Maria, had been
+sent to him, and with a part of its contents he bribed his principal
+keeper; who, after receiving the most solemn promise that he would return
+to his apartment without attempting to explore any part of the house,
+conducted him, in the dusk of the evening, to Maria's room.
+
+Jemima had apprized her charge of the visit, and she expected with
+trembling impatience, inspired by a vague hope that he might again prove
+her deliverer, to see a man who had before rescued her from oppression.
+He entered with an animation of countenance, formed to captivate an
+enthusiast; and, hastily turned his eyes from her to the apartment, which
+he surveyed with apparent emotions of compassionate indignation.
+Sympathy illuminated his eye, and, taking her hand, he respectfully bowed
+on it, exclaiming--"This is extraordinary!--again to meet you, and in
+such circumstances!" Still, impressive as was the coincidence of events
+which brought them once more together, their full hearts did not
+overflow.--[54-A]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[And though, after this first visit, they were permitted frequently to
+repeat their interviews, they were for some time employed in] a reserved
+conversation, to which all the world might have listened; excepting,
+when discussing some literary subject, flashes of sentiment, inforced by
+each relaxing feature, seemed to remind them that their minds were
+already acquainted.
+
+[By degrees, Darnford entered into the particulars of his story.] In a
+few words, he informed her that he had been a thoughtless, extravagant
+young man; yet, as he described his faults, they appeared to be the
+generous luxuriancy of a noble mind. Nothing like meanness tarnished the
+lustre of his youth, nor had the worm of selfishness lurked in the
+unfolding bud, even while he had been the dupe of others. Yet he tardily
+acquired the experience necessary to guard him against future imposition.
+
+"I shall weary you," continued he, "by my egotism; and did not powerful
+emotions draw me to you,"--his eyes glistened as he spoke, and a
+trembling seemed to run through his manly frame,--"I would not waste
+these precious moments in talking of myself.
+
+"My father and mother were people of fashion; married by their parents.
+He was fond of the turf, she of the card-table. I, and two or three other
+children since dead, were kept at home till we became intolerable. My
+father and mother had a visible dislike to each other, continually
+displayed; the servants were of the depraved kind usually found in the
+houses of people of fortune. My brothers and parents all dying, I was
+left to the care of guardians, and sent to Eton. I never knew the sweets
+of domestic affection, but I felt the want of indulgence and frivolous
+respect at school. I will not disgust you with a recital of the vices of
+my youth, which can scarcely be comprehended by female delicacy. I was
+taught to love by a creature I am ashamed to mention; and the other women
+with whom I afterwards became intimate, were of a class of which you can
+have no knowledge. I formed my acquaintance with them at the theatres;
+and, when vivacity danced in their eyes, I was not easily disgusted by
+the vulgarity which flowed from their lips. Having spent, a few years
+after I was of age, [the whole of] a considerable patrimony, excepting a
+few hundreds, I had no recourse but to purchase a commission in a
+new-raised regiment, destined to subjugate America. The regret I felt to
+renounce a life of pleasure, was counter-balanced by the curiosity I had
+to see America, or rather to travel; [nor had any of those circumstances
+occurred to my youth, which might have been calculated] to bind my
+country to my heart. I shall not trouble you with the details of a
+military life. My blood was still kept in motion; till, towards the close
+of the contest, I was wounded and taken prisoner.
+
+"Confined to my bed, or chair, by a lingering cure, my only refuge from
+the preying activity of my mind, was books, which I read with great
+avidity, profiting by the conversation of my host, a man of sound
+understanding. My political sentiments now underwent a total change; and,
+dazzled by the hospitality of the Americans, I determined to take up my
+abode with freedom. I, therefore, with my usual impetuosity, sold my
+commission, and travelled into the interior parts of the country, to lay
+out my money to advantage. Added to this, I did not much like the
+puritanical manners of the large towns. Inequality of condition was there
+most disgustingly galling. The only pleasure wealth afforded, was to make
+an ostentatious display of it; for the cultivation of the fine arts, or
+literature, had not introduced into the first circles that polish of
+manners which renders the rich so essentially superior to the poor in
+Europe. Added to this, an influx of vices had been let in by the
+Revolution, and the most rigid principles of religion shaken to the
+centre, before the understanding could be gradually emancipated from the
+prejudices which led their ancestors undauntedly to seek an inhospitable
+clime and unbroken soil. The resolution, that led them, in pursuit of
+independence, to embark on rivers like seas, to search for unknown
+shores, and to sleep under the hovering mists of endless forests, whose
+baleful damps agued their limbs, was now turned into commercial
+speculations, till the national character exhibited a phenomenon in the
+history of the human mind--a head enthusiastically enterprising, with
+cold selfishness of heart. And woman, lovely woman!--they charm every
+where--still there is a degree of prudery, and a want of taste and ease
+in the manners of the American women, that renders them, in spite of
+their roses and lilies, far inferior to our European charmers. In the
+country, they have often a bewitching simplicity of character; but, in
+the cities, they have all the airs and ignorance of the ladies who give
+the tone to the circles of the large trading towns in England. They are
+fond of their ornaments, merely because they are good, and not because
+they embellish their persons; and are more gratified to inspire the women
+with jealousy of these exterior advantages, than the men with love. All
+the frivolity which often (excuse me, Madam) renders the society of
+modest women so stupid in England, here seemed to throw still more leaden
+fetters on their charms. Not being an adept in gallantry, I found that I
+could only keep myself awake in their company by making downright love to
+them.
+
+"But, not to intrude on your patience, I retired to the track of land
+which I had purchased in the country, and my time passed pleasantly
+enough while I cut down the trees, built my house, and planted my
+different crops. But winter and idleness came, and I longed for more
+elegant society, to hear what was passing in the world, and to do
+something better than vegetate with the animals that made a very
+considerable part of my household. Consequently, I determined to travel.
+Motion was a substitute for variety of objects; and, passing over immense
+tracks of country, I exhausted my exuberant spirits, without obtaining
+much experience. I every where saw industry the fore-runner and not the
+consequence, of luxury; but this country, every thing being on an ample
+scale, did not afford those picturesque views, which a certain degree of
+cultivation is necessary gradually to produce. The eye wandered without
+an object to fix upon over immeasureable plains, and lakes that seemed
+replenished by the ocean, whilst eternal forests of small clustering
+trees, obstructed the circulation of air, and embarrassed the path,
+without gratifying the eye of taste. No cottage smiling in the waste, no
+travellers hailed us, to give life to silent nature; or, if perchance we
+saw the print of a footstep in our path, it was a dreadful warning to
+turn aside; and the head ached as if assailed by the scalping knife. The
+Indians who hovered on the skirts of the European settlements had only
+learned of their neighbours to plunder, and they stole their guns from
+them to do it with more safety.
+
+"From the woods and back settlements, I returned to the towns, and
+learned to eat and drink most valiantly; but without entering into
+commerce (and I detested commerce) I found I could not live there; and,
+growing heartily weary of the land of liberty and vulgar aristocracy,
+seated on her bags of dollars, I resolved once more to visit Europe. I
+wrote to a distant relation in England, with whom I had been educated,
+mentioning the vessel in which I intended to sail. Arriving in London, my
+senses were intoxicated. I ran from street to street, from theatre to
+theatre, and the women of the town (again I must beg pardon for my
+habitual frankness) appeared to me like angels.
+
+"A week was spent in this thoughtless manner, when, returning very late
+to the hotel in which I had lodged ever since my arrival, I was knocked
+down in a private street, and hurried, in a state of insensibility, into
+a coach, which brought me hither, and I only recovered my senses to be
+treated like one who had lost them. My keepers are deaf to my
+remonstrances and enquiries, yet assure me that my confinement shall not
+last long. Still I cannot guess, though I weary myself with conjectures,
+why I am confined, or in what part of England this house is situated. I
+imagine sometimes that I hear the sea roar, and wished myself again on
+the Atlantic, till I had a glimpse of you[65-A]."
+
+A few moments were only allowed to Maria to comment on this narrative,
+when Darnford left her to her own thoughts, to the "never ending, still
+beginning," task of weighing his words, recollecting his tones of voice,
+and feeling them reverberate on her heart.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[54-A] The copy which had received the author's last corrections, breaks
+off in this place, and the pages which follow, to the end of Chap. IV,
+are printed from a copy in a less finished state.
+
+[65-A] The introduction of Darnford as the deliverer of Maria in a former
+instance, appears to have been an after-thought of the author. This has
+occasioned the omission of any allusion to that circumstance in the
+preceding narration.
+
+EDITOR.
+
+
+
+
+CHAP. IV.
+
+
+PITY, and the forlorn seriousness of adversity, have both been considered
+as dispositions favourable to love, while satirical writers have
+attributed the propensity to the relaxing effect of idleness, what chance
+then had Maria of escaping, when pity, sorrow, and solitude all conspired
+to soften her mind, and nourish romantic wishes, and, from a natural
+progress, romantic expectations?
+
+Maria was six-and-twenty. But, such was the native soundness of her
+constitution, that time had only given to her countenance the character
+of her mind. Revolving thought, and exercised affections had banished
+some of the playful graces of innocence, producing insensibly that
+irregularity of features which the struggles of the understanding to
+trace or govern the strong emotions of the heart, are wont to imprint on
+the yielding mass. Grief and care had mellowed, without obscuring, the
+bright tints of youth, and the thoughtfulness which resided on her brow
+did not take from the feminine softness of her features; nay, such was
+the sensibility which often mantled over it, that she frequently
+appeared, like a large proportion of her sex, only born to feel; and the
+activity of her well-proportioned, and even almost voluptuous figure,
+inspired the idea of strength of mind, rather than of body. There was a
+simplicity sometimes indeed in her manner, which bordered on infantine
+ingenuousness, that led people of common discernment to underrate her
+talents, and smile at the flights of her imagination. But those who could
+not comprehend the delicacy of her sentiments, were attached by her
+unfailing sympathy, so that she was very generally beloved by characters
+of very different descriptions; still, she was too much under the
+influence of an ardent imagination to adhere to common rules.
+
+There are mistakes of conduct which at five-and-twenty prove the strength
+of the mind, that, ten or fifteen years after, would demonstrate its
+weakness, its incapacity to acquire a sane judgment. The youths who are
+satisfied with the ordinary pleasures of life, and do not sigh after
+ideal phantoms of love and friendship, will never arrive at great
+maturity of understanding; but if these reveries are cherished, as is too
+frequently the case with women, when experience ought to have taught
+them in what human happiness consists, they become as useless as they are
+wretched. Besides, their pains and pleasures are so dependent on outward
+circumstances, on the objects of their affections, that they seldom act
+from the impulse of a nerved mind, able to choose its own pursuit.
+
+Having had to struggle incessantly with the vices of mankind, Maria's
+imagination found repose in pourtraying the possible virtues the world
+might contain. Pygmalion formed an ivory maid, and longed for an
+informing soul. She, on the contrary, combined all the qualities of a
+hero's mind, and fate presented a statue in which she might enshrine
+them.
+
+We mean not to trace the progress of this passion, or recount how often
+Darnford and Maria were obliged to part in the midst of an interesting
+conversation. Jemima ever watched on the tip-toe of fear, and frequently
+separated them on a false alarm, when they would have given worlds to
+remain a little longer together.
+
+A magic lamp now seemed to be suspended in Maria's prison, and fairy
+landscapes flitted round the gloomy walls, late so blank. Rushing from
+the depth of despair, on the seraph wing of hope, she found herself
+happy.--She was beloved, and every emotion was rapturous.
+
+To Darnford she had not shown a decided affection; the fear of outrunning
+his, a sure proof of love, made her often assume a coldness and
+indifference foreign from her character; and, even when giving way to the
+playful emotions of a heart just loosened from the frozen bond of grief,
+there was a delicacy in her manner of expressing her sensibility, which
+made him doubt whether it was the effect of love.
+
+One evening, when Jemima left them, to listen to the sound of a distant
+footstep, which seemed cautiously to approach, he seized Maria's hand--it
+was not withdrawn. They conversed with earnestness of their situation;
+and, during the conversation, he once or twice gently drew her towards
+him. He felt the fragrance of her breath, and longed, yet feared, to
+touch the lips from which it issued; spirits of purity seemed to guard
+them, while all the enchanting graces of love sported on her cheeks, and
+languished in her eyes.
+
+Jemima entering, he reflected on his diffidence with poignant regret,
+and, she once more taking alarm, he ventured, as Maria stood near his
+chair, to approach her lips with a declaration of love. She drew back
+with solemnity, he hung down his head abashed; but lifting his eyes
+timidly, they met her's; she had determined, during that instant, and
+suffered their rays to mingle. He took, with more ardour, reassured, a
+half-consenting, half-reluctant kiss, reluctant only from modesty; and
+there was a sacredness in her dignified manner of reclining her glowing
+face on his shoulder, that powerfully impressed him. Desire was lost in
+more ineffable emotions, and to protect her from insult and sorrow--to
+make her happy, seemed not only the first wish of his heart, but the most
+noble duty of his life. Such angelic confidence demanded the fidelity of
+honour; but could he, feeling her in every pulsation, could he ever
+change, could he be a villain? The emotion with which she, for a moment,
+allowed herself to be pressed to his bosom, the tear of rapturous
+sympathy, mingled with a soft melancholy sentiment of recollected
+disappointment, said--more of truth and faithfulness, than the tongue
+could have given utterance to in hours! They were silent--yet discoursed,
+how eloquently? till, after a moment's reflection, Maria drew her chair
+by the side of his, and, with a composed sweetness of voice, and
+supernatural benignity of countenance, said, "I must open my whole heart
+to you; you must be told who I am, why I am here, and why, telling you I
+am a wife, I blush not to"--the blush spoke the rest.
+
+Jemima was again at her elbow, and the restraint of her presence did not
+prevent an animated conversation, in which love, sly urchin, was ever at
+bo-peep.
+
+So much of heaven did they enjoy, that paradise bloomed around them; or
+they, by a powerful spell, had been transported into Armida's garden.
+Love, the grand enchanter, "lapt them in Elysium," and every sense was
+harmonized to joy and social extacy. So animated, indeed, were their
+accents of tenderness, in discussing what, in other circumstances, would
+have been common-place subjects, that Jemima felt, with surprise, a tear
+of pleasure trickling down her rugged cheeks. She wiped it away, half
+ashamed; and when Maria kindly enquired the cause, with all the eager
+solicitude of a happy being wishing to impart to all nature its
+overflowing felicity, Jemima owned that it was the first tear that social
+enjoyment had ever drawn from her. She seemed indeed to breathe more
+freely; the cloud of suspicion cleared away from her brow; she felt
+herself, for once in her life, treated like a fellow-creature.
+
+Imagination! who can paint thy power; or reflect the evanescent tints of
+hope fostered by thee? A despondent gloom had long obscured Maria's
+horizon--now the sun broke forth, the rainbow appeared, and every
+prospect was fair. Horror still reigned in the darkened cells, suspicion
+lurked in the passages, and whispered along the walls. The yells of men
+possessed, sometimes made them pause, and wonder that they felt so happy,
+in a tomb of living death. They even chid themselves for such apparent
+insensibility; still the world contained not three happier beings. And
+Jemima, after again patrolling the passage, was so softened by the air of
+confidence which breathed around her, that she voluntarily began an
+account of herself.
+
+
+
+
+CHAP. V.
+
+
+"MY father," said Jemima, "seduced my mother, a pretty girl, with whom he
+lived fellow-servant; and she no sooner perceived the natural, the
+dreaded consequence, than the terrible conviction flashed on her--that
+she was ruined. Honesty, and a regard for her reputation, had been the
+only principles inculcated by her mother; and they had been so forcibly
+impressed, that she feared shame, more than the poverty to which it would
+lead. Her incessant importunities to prevail upon my father to screen her
+from reproach by marrying her, as he had promised in the fervour of
+seduction, estranged him from her so completely, that her very person
+became distasteful to him; and he began to hate, as well as despise me,
+before I was born.
+
+"My mother, grieved to the soul by his neglect, and unkind treatment,
+actually resolved to famish herself; and injured her health by the
+attempt; though she had not sufficient resolution to adhere to her
+project, or renounce it entirely. Death came not at her call; yet sorrow,
+and the methods she adopted to conceal her condition, still doing the
+work of a house-maid, had such an effect on her constitution, that she
+died in the wretched garret, where her virtuous mistress had forced her
+to take refuge in the very pangs of labour, though my father, after a
+slight reproof, was allowed to remain in his place--allowed by the mother
+of six children, who, scarcely permitting a footstep to be heard, during
+her month's indulgence, felt no sympathy for the poor wretch, denied
+every comfort required by her situation.
+
+"The day my mother died, the ninth after my birth, I was consigned to the
+care of the cheapest nurse my father could find; who suckled her own
+child at the same time, and lodged as many more as she could get, in two
+cellar-like apartments.
+
+"Poverty, and the habit of seeing children die off her hands, had so
+hardened her heart, that the office of a mother did not awaken the
+tenderness of a woman; nor were the feminine caresses which seem a part
+of the rearing of a child, ever bestowed on me. The chicken has a wing to
+shelter under; but I had no bosom to nestle in, no kindred warmth to
+foster me. Left in dirt, to cry with cold and hunger till I was weary,
+and sleep without ever being prepared by exercise, or lulled by kindness
+to rest; could I be expected to become any thing but a weak and rickety
+babe? Still, in spite of neglect, I continued to exist, to learn to curse
+existence," her countenance grew ferocious as she spoke, "and the
+treatment that rendered me miserable, seemed to sharpen my wits. Confined
+then in a damp hovel, to rock the cradle of the succeeding tribe, I
+looked like a little old woman, or a hag shrivelling into nothing. The
+furrows of reflection and care contracted the youthful cheek, and gave a
+sort of supernatural wildness to the ever watchful eye. During this
+period, my father had married another fellow-servant, who loved him less,
+and knew better how to manage his passion, than my mother. She likewise
+proving with child, they agreed to keep a shop: my step-mother, if, being
+an illegitimate offspring, I may venture thus to characterize her, having
+obtained a sum of a rich relation, for that purpose.
+
+"Soon after her lying-in, she prevailed on my father to take me home, to
+save the expence of maintaining me, and of hiring a girl to assist her in
+the care of the child. I was young, it was true, but appeared a knowing
+little thing, and might be made handy. Accordingly I was brought to her
+house; but not to a home--for a home I never knew. Of this child, a
+daughter, she was extravagantly fond; and it was a part of my employment,
+to assist to spoil her, by humouring all her whims, and bearing all her
+caprices. Feeling her own consequence, before she could speak, she had
+learned the art of tormenting me, and if I ever dared to resist, I
+received blows, laid on with no compunctious hand, or was sent to bed
+dinnerless, as well as supperless. I said that it was a part of my daily
+labour to attend this child, with the servility of a slave; still it was
+but a part. I was sent out in all seasons, and from place to place, to
+carry burdens far above my strength, without being allowed to draw near
+the fire, or ever being cheered by encouragement or kindness. No wonder
+then, treated like a creature of another species, that I began to envy,
+and at length to hate, the darling of the house. Yet, I perfectly
+remember, that it was the caresses, and kind expressions of my
+step-mother, which first excited my jealous discontent. Once, I cannot
+forget it, when she was calling in vain her wayward child to kiss her, I
+ran to her, saying, 'I will kiss you, ma'am!' and how did my heart, which
+was in my mouth, sink, what was my debasement of soul, when pushed away
+with--'I do not want you, pert thing!' Another day, when a new gown had
+excited the highest good humour, and she uttered the appropriate _dear_,
+addressed unexpectedly to me, I thought I could never do enough to please
+her; I was all alacrity, and rose proportionably in my own estimation.
+
+"As her daughter grew up, she was pampered with cakes and fruit, while I
+was, literally speaking, fed with the refuse of the table, with her
+leavings. A liquorish tooth is, I believe, common to children, and I used
+to steal any thing sweet, that I could catch up with a chance of
+concealment. When detected, she was not content to chastize me herself at
+the moment, but, on my father's return in the evening (he was a shopman),
+the principal discourse was to recount my faults, and attribute them to
+the wicked disposition which I had brought into the world with me,
+inherited from my mother. He did not fail to leave the marks of his
+resentment on my body, and then solaced himself by playing with my
+sister.--I could have murdered her at those moments. To save myself from
+these unmerciful corrections, I resorted to falshood, and the untruths
+which I sturdily maintained, were brought in judgment against me, to
+support my tyrant's inhuman charge of my natural propensity to vice.
+Seeing me treated with contempt, and always being fed and dressed
+better, my sister conceived a contemptuous opinion of me, that proved an
+obstacle to all affection; and my father, hearing continually of my
+faults, began to consider me as a curse entailed on him for his sins: he
+was therefore easily prevailed on to bind me apprentice to one of my
+step-mother's friends, who kept a slop-shop in Wapping. I was represented
+(as it was said) in my true colours; but she, 'warranted,' snapping her
+fingers, 'that she should break my spirit or heart.'
+
+"My mother replied, with a whine, 'that if any body could make me better,
+it was such a clever woman as herself; though, for her own part, she had
+tried in vain; but good-nature was her fault.'
+
+"I shudder with horror, when I recollect the treatment I had now to
+endure. Not only under the lash of my task-mistress, but the drudge of
+the maid, apprentices and children, I never had a taste of human kindness
+to soften the rigour of perpetual labour. I had been introduced as an
+object of abhorrence into the family; as a creature of whom my
+step-mother, though she had been kind enough to let me live in the house
+with her own child, could make nothing. I was described as a wretch,
+whose nose must be kept to the grinding stone--and it was held there with
+an iron grasp. It seemed indeed the privilege of their superior nature to
+kick me about, like the dog or cat. If I were attentive, I was called
+fawning, if refractory, an obstinate mule, and like a mule I received
+their censure on my loaded back. Often has my mistress, for some
+instance of forgetfulness, thrown me from one side of the kitchen to the
+other, knocked my head against the wall, spit in my face, with various
+refinements on barbarity that I forbear to enumerate, though they were
+all acted over again by the servant, with additional insults, to which
+the appellation of _bastard_, was commonly added, with taunts or sneers.
+But I will not attempt to give you an adequate idea of my situation, lest
+you, who probably have never been drenched with the dregs of human
+misery, should think I exaggerate.
+
+"I stole now, from absolute necessity,--bread; yet whatever else was
+taken, which I had it not in my power to take, was ascribed to me. I was
+the filching cat, the ravenous dog, the dumb brute, who must bear all;
+for if I endeavoured to exculpate myself, I was silenced, without any
+enquiries being made, with 'Hold your tongue, you never tell truth.' Even
+the very air I breathed was tainted with scorn; for I was sent to the
+neighbouring shops with Glutton, Liar, or Thief, written on my forehead.
+This was, at first, the most bitter punishment; but sullen pride, or a
+kind of stupid desperation, made me, at length, almost regardless of the
+contempt, which had wrung from me so many solitary tears at the only
+moments when I was allowed to rest.
+
+"Thus was I the mark of cruelty till my sixteenth year; and then I have
+only to point out a change of misery; for a period I never knew. Allow me
+first to make one observation. Now I look back, I cannot help
+attributing the greater part of my misery, to the misfortune of having
+been thrown into the world without the grand support of life--a mother's
+affection. I had no one to love me; or to make me respected, to enable me
+to acquire respect. I was an egg dropped on the sand; a pauper by nature,
+shunted from family to family, who belonged to nobody--and nobody cared
+for me. I was despised from my birth, and denied the chance of obtaining
+a footing for myself in society. Yes; I had not even the chance of being
+considered as a fellow-creature--yet all the people with whom I lived,
+brutalized as they were by the low cunning of trade, and the despicable
+shifts of poverty, were not without bowels, though they never yearned for
+me. I was, in fact, born a slave, and chained by infamy to slavery
+during the whole of existence, without having any companions to alleviate
+it by sympathy, or teach me how to rise above it by their example. But,
+to resume the thread of my tale--
+
+"At sixteen, I suddenly grew tall, and something like comeliness appeared
+on a Sunday, when I had time to wash my face, and put on clean clothes.
+My master had once or twice caught hold of me in the passage; but I
+instinctively avoided his disgusting caresses. One day however, when the
+family were at a methodist meeting, he contrived to be alone in the house
+with me, and by blows--yes; blows and menaces, compelled me to submit to
+his ferocious desire; and, to avoid my mistress's fury, I was obliged in
+future to comply, and skulk to my loft at his command, in spite of
+increasing loathing.
+
+"The anguish which was now pent up in my bosom, seemed to open a new
+world to me: I began to extend my thoughts beyond myself, and grieve for
+human misery, till I discovered, with horror--ah! what horror!--that I
+was with child. I know not why I felt a mixed sensation of despair and
+tenderness, excepting that, ever called a bastard, a bastard appeared to
+me an object of the greatest compassion in creation.
+
+"I communicated this dreadful circumstance to my master, who was almost
+equally alarmed at the intelligence; for he feared his wife, and public
+censure at the meeting. After some weeks of deliberation had elapsed, I
+in continual fear that my altered shape would be noticed, my master gave
+me a medicine in a phial, which he desired me to take, telling me,
+without any circumlocution, for what purpose it was designed. I burst
+into tears, I thought it was killing myself--yet was such a self as I
+worth preserving? He cursed me for a fool, and left me to my own
+reflections. I could not resolve to take this infernal potion; but I
+wrapped it up in an old gown, and hid it in a corner of my box.
+
+"Nobody yet suspected me, because they had been accustomed to view me as
+a creature of another species. But the threatening storm at last broke
+over my devoted head--never shall I forget it! One Sunday evening when I
+was left, as usual, to take care of the house, my master came home
+intoxicated, and I became the prey of his brutal appetite. His extreme
+intoxication made him forget his customary caution, and my mistress
+entered and found us in a situation that could not have been more hateful
+to her than me. Her husband was 'pot-valiant,' he feared her not at the
+moment, nor had he then much reason, for she instantly turned the whole
+force of her anger another way. She tore off my cap, scratched, kicked,
+and buffetted me, till she had exhausted her strength, declaring, as she
+rested her arm, 'that I had wheedled her husband from her.--But, could
+any thing better be expected from a wretch, whom she had taken into her
+house out of pure charity?' What a torrent of abuse rushed out? till,
+almost breathless, she concluded with saying, 'that I was born a
+strumpet; it ran in my blood, and nothing good could come to those who
+harboured me.'
+
+"My situation was, of course, discovered, and she declared that I should
+not stay another night under the same roof with an honest family. I was
+therefore pushed out of doors, and my trumpery thrown after me, when it
+had been contemptuously examined in the passage, lest I should have
+stolen any thing.
+
+"Behold me then in the street, utterly destitute! Whither could I creep
+for shelter? To my father's roof I had no claim, when not pursued by
+shame--now I shrunk back as from death, from my mother's cruel
+reproaches, my father's execrations. I could not endure to hear him curse
+the day I was born, though life had been a curse to me. Of death I
+thought, but with a confused emotion of terror, as I stood leaning my
+head on a post, and starting at every footstep, lest it should be my
+mistress coming to tear my heart out. One of the boys of the shop passing
+by, heard my tale, and immediately repaired to his master, to give him a
+description of my situation; and he touched the right key--the scandal it
+would give rise to, if I were left to repeat my tale to every enquirer.
+This plea came home to his reason, who had been sobered by his wife's
+rage, the fury of which fell on him when I was out of her reach, and he
+sent the boy to me with half-a-guinea, desiring him to conduct me to a
+house, where beggars, and other wretches, the refuse of society, nightly
+lodged.
+
+"This night was spent in a state of stupefaction, or desperation. I
+detested mankind, and abhorred myself.
+
+"In the morning I ventured out, to throw myself in my master's way, at
+his usual hour of going abroad. I approached him, he 'damned me for a
+b----, declared I had disturbed the peace of the family, and that he had
+sworn to his wife, never to take any more notice of me.' He left me; but,
+instantly returning, he told me that he should speak to his friend, a
+parish-officer, to get a nurse for the brat I laid to him; and advised
+me, if I wished to keep out of the house of correction, not to make free
+with his name.
+
+"I hurried back to my hole, and, rage giving place to despair, sought for
+the potion that was to procure abortion, and swallowed it, with a wish
+that it might destroy me, at the same time that it stopped the sensations
+of new-born life, which I felt with indescribable emotion. My head
+turned round, my heart grew sick, and in the horrors of approaching
+dissolution, mental anguish was swallowed up. The effect of the medicine
+was violent, and I was confined to my bed several days; but, youth and a
+strong constitution prevailing, I once more crawled out, to ask myself
+the cruel question, 'Whither I should go?' I had but two shillings left
+in my pocket, the rest had been expended, by a poor woman who slept in
+the same room, to pay for my lodging, and purchase the necessaries of
+which she partook.
+
+"With this wretch I went into the neighbouring streets to beg, and my
+disconsolate appearance drew a few pence from the idle, enabling me still
+to command a bed; till, recovering from my illness, and taught to put on
+my rags to the best advantage, I was accosted from different motives, and
+yielded to the desire of the brutes I met, with the same detestation that
+I had felt for my still more brutal master. I have since read in novels
+of the blandishments of seduction, but I had not even the pleasure of
+being enticed into vice.
+
+"I shall not," interrupted Jemima, "lead your imagination into all the
+scenes of wretchedness and depravity, which I was condemned to view; or
+mark the different stages of my debasing misery. Fate dragged me through
+the very kennels of society; I was still a slave, a bastard, a common
+property. Become familiar with vice, for I wish to conceal nothing from
+you, I picked the pockets of the drunkards who abused me; and proved by
+my conduct, that I deserved the epithets, with which they loaded me at
+moments when distrust ought to cease.
+
+"Detesting my nightly occupation, though valuing, if I may so use the
+word, my independence, which only consisted in choosing the street in
+which I should wander, or the roof, when I had money, in which I should
+hide my head, I was some time before I could prevail on myself to accept
+of a place in a house of ill fame, to which a girl, with whom I had
+accidentally conversed in the street, had recommended me. I had been
+hunted almost into a a fever, by the watchmen of the quarter of the town
+I frequented; one, whom I had unwittingly offended, giving the word to
+the whole pack. You can scarcely conceive the tyranny exercised by these
+wretches: considering themselves as the instruments of the very laws they
+violate, the pretext which steels their conscience, hardens their heart.
+Not content with receiving from us, outlaws of society (let other women
+talk of favours) a brutal gratification gratuitously as a privilege of
+office, they extort a tithe of prostitution, and harrass with threats the
+poor creatures whose occupation affords not the means to silence the
+growl of avarice. To escape from this persecution, I once more entered
+into servitude.
+
+"A life of comparative regularity restored my health; and--do not
+start--my manners were improved, in a situation where vice sought to
+render itself alluring, and taste was cultivated to fashion the person,
+if not to refine the mind. Besides, the common civility of speech,
+contrasted with the gross vulgarity to which I had been accustomed, was
+something like the polish of civilization. I was not shut out from all
+intercourse of humanity. Still I was galled by the yoke of service, and
+my mistress often flying into violent fits of passion, made me dread a
+sudden dismission, which I understood was always the case. I was
+therefore prevailed on, though I felt a horror of men, to accept the
+offer of a gentleman, rather in the decline of years, to keep his house,
+pleasantly situated in a little village near Hampstead.
+
+"He was a man of great talents, and of brilliant wit; but, a worn-out
+votary of voluptuousness, his desires became fastidious in proportion as
+they grew weak, and the native tenderness of his heart was undermined by
+a vitiated imagination. A thoughtless career of libertinism and social
+enjoyment, had injured his health to such a degree, that, whatever
+pleasure his conversation afforded me (and my esteem was ensured by
+proofs of the generous humanity of his disposition), the being his
+mistress was purchasing it at a very dear rate. With such a keen
+perception of the delicacies of sentiment, with an imagination
+invigorated by the exercise of genius, how could he sink into the
+grossness of sensuality!
+
+"But, to pass over a subject which I recollect with pain, I must remark
+to you, as an answer to your often-repeated question, 'Why my sentiments
+and language were superior to my station?' that I now began to read, to
+beguile the tediousness of solitude, and to gratify an inquisitive,
+active mind. I had often, in my childhood, followed a ballad-singer, to
+hear the sequel of a dismal story, though sure of being severely punished
+for delaying to return with whatever I was sent to purchase. I could just
+spell and put a sentence together, and I listened to the various
+arguments, though often mingled with obscenity, which occurred at the
+table where I was allowed to preside: for a literary friend or two
+frequently came home with my master, to dine and pass the night. Having
+lost the privileged respect of my sex, my presence, instead of
+restraining, perhaps gave the reins to their tongues; still I had the
+advantage of hearing discussions, from which, in the common course of
+life, women are excluded.
+
+"You may easily imagine, that it was only by degrees that I could
+comprehend some of the subjects they investigated, or acquire from their
+reasoning what might be termed a moral sense. But my fondness of reading
+increasing, and my master occasionally shutting himself up in this
+retreat, for weeks together, to write, I had many opportunities of
+improvement. At first, considering money I was right!" (exclaimed Jemima,
+altering her tone of voice) "as the only means, after my loss of
+reputation, of obtaining respect, or even the toleration of humanity, I
+had not the least scruple to secrete a part of the sums intrusted to me,
+and to screen myself from detection by a system of falshood. But,
+acquiring new principles, I began to have the ambition of returning to
+the respectable part of society, and was weak enough to suppose it
+possible. The attention of my unassuming instructor, who, without being
+ignorant of his own powers, possessed great simplicity of manners,
+strengthened the illusion. Having sometimes caught up hints for thought,
+from my untutored remarks, he often led me to discuss the subjects he was
+treating, and would read to me his productions, previous to their
+publication, wishing to profit by the criticism of unsophisticated
+feeling. The aim of his writings was to touch the simple springs of the
+heart; for he despised the would-be oracles, the self-elected
+philosophers, who fright away fancy, while sifting each grain of thought
+to prove that slowness of comprehension is wisdom.
+
+"I should have distinguished this as a moment of sunshine, a happy period
+in my life, had not the repugnance the disgusting libertinism of my
+protector inspired, daily become more painful.--And, indeed, I soon did
+recollect it as such with agony, when his sudden death (for he had
+recourse to the most exhilarating cordials to keep up the convivial tone
+of his spirits) again threw me into the desert of human society. Had he
+had any time for reflection, I am certain he would have left the little
+property in his power to me: but, attacked by the fatal apoplexy in town,
+his heir, a man of rigid morals, brought his wife with him to take
+possession of the house and effects, before I was even informed of his
+death,--'to prevent,' as she took care indirectly to tell me, 'such a
+creature as she supposed me to be, from purloining any of them, had I
+been apprized of the event in time.'
+
+"The grief I felt at the sudden shock the information gave me, which at
+first had nothing selfish in it, was treated with contempt, and I was
+ordered to pack up my clothes; and a few trinkets and books, given me by
+the generous deceased, were contested, while they piously hoped, with a
+reprobating shake of the head, 'that God would have mercy on his sinful
+soul!' With some difficulty, I obtained my arrears of wages; but
+asking--such is the spirit-grinding consequence of poverty and
+infamy--for a character for honesty and economy, which God knows I
+merited, I was told by this--why must I call her woman?--'that it would
+go against her conscience to recommend a kept mistress.' Tears started in
+my eyes, burning tears; for there are situations in which a wretch is
+humbled by the contempt they are conscious they do not deserve.
+
+"I returned to the metropolis; but the solitude of a poor lodging was
+inconceivably dreary, after the society I had enjoyed. To be cut off from
+human converse, now I had been taught to relish it, was to wander a ghost
+among the living. Besides, I foresaw, to aggravate the severity of my
+fate, that my little pittance would soon melt away. I endeavoured to
+obtain needlework; but, not having been taught early, and my hands being
+rendered clumsy by hard work, I did not sufficiently excel to be employed
+by the ready-made linen shops, when so many women, better qualified, were
+suing for it. The want of a character prevented my getting a place; for,
+irksome as servitude would have been to me, I should have made another
+trial, had it been feasible. Not that I disliked employment, but the
+inequality of condition to which I must have submitted. I had acquired a
+taste for literature, during the five years I had lived with a literary
+man, occasionally conversing with men of the first abilities of the age;
+and now to descend to the lowest vulgarity, was a degree of wretchedness
+not to be imagined unfelt. I had not, it is true, tasted the charms of
+affection, but I had been familiar with the graces of humanity.
+
+"One of the gentlemen, whom I had frequently dined in company with, while
+I was treated like a companion, met me in the street, and enquired after
+my health. I seized the occasion, and began to describe my situation; but
+he was in haste to join, at dinner, a select party of choice spirits;
+therefore, without waiting to hear me, he impatiently put a guinea into
+my hand, saying, 'It was a pity such a sensible woman should be in
+distress--he wished me well from his soul.'
+
+"To another I wrote, stating my case, and requesting advice. He was an
+advocate for unequivocal sincerity; and had often, in my presence,
+descanted on the evils which arise in society from the despotism of rank
+and riches.
+
+"In reply, I received a long essay on the energy of the human mind, with
+continual allusions to his own force of character. He added, 'That the
+woman who could write such a letter as I had sent him, could never be in
+want of resources, were she to look into herself, and exert her powers;
+misery was the consequence of indolence, and, as to my being shut out
+from society, it was the lot of man to submit to certain privations.'
+
+"How often have I heard," said Jemima, interrupting her narrative, "in
+conversation, and read in books, that every person willing to work may
+find employment? It is the vague assertion, I believe, of insensible
+indolence, when it relates to men; but, with respect to women, I am sure
+of its fallacy, unless they will submit to the most menial bodily labour;
+and even to be employed at hard labour is out of the reach of many, whose
+reputation misfortune or folly has tainted.
+
+"How writers, professing to be friends to freedom, and the improvement of
+morals, can assert that poverty is no evil, I cannot imagine."
+
+"No more can I," interrupted Maria, "yet they even expatiate on the
+peculiar happiness of indigence, though in what it can consist, excepting
+in brutal rest, when a man can barely earn a subsistence, I cannot
+imagine. The mind is necessarily imprisoned in its own little tenement;
+and, fully occupied by keeping it in repair, has not time to rove abroad
+for improvement. The book of knowledge is closely clasped, against those
+who must fulfil their daily task of severe manual labour or die; and
+curiosity, rarely excited by thought or information, seldom moves on the
+stagnate lake of ignorance."
+
+"As far as I have been able to observe," replied Jemima, "prejudices,
+caught up by chance, are obstinately maintained by the poor, to the
+exclusion of improvement; they have not time to reason or reflect to any
+extent, or minds sufficiently exercised to adopt the principles of
+action, which form perhaps the only basis of contentment in every
+station[114-A]."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"And independence," said Darnford, "they are necessarily strangers to,
+even the independence of despising their persecutors. If the poor are
+happy, or can be happy, _things are very well as they are_. And I cannot
+conceive on what principle those writers contend for a change of system,
+who support this opinion. The authors on the other side of the question
+are much more consistent, who grant the fact; yet, insisting that it is
+the lot of the majority to be oppressed in this life, kindly turn them
+over to another, to rectify the false weights and measures of this, as
+the only way to justify the dispensations of Providence. I have not,"
+continued Darnford, "an opinion more firmly fixed by observation in my
+mind, than that, though riches may fail to produce proportionate
+happiness, poverty most commonly excludes it, by shutting up all the
+avenues to improvement."
+
+"And as for the affections," added Maria, with a sigh, "how gross, and
+even tormenting do they become, unless regulated by an improving mind!
+The culture of the heart ever, I believe, keeps pace with that of the
+mind. But pray go on," addressing Jemima, "though your narrative gives
+rise to the most painful reflections on the present state of society."
+
+"Not to trouble you," continued she, "with a detailed description of all
+the painful feelings of unavailing exertion, I have only to tell you,
+that at last I got recommended to wash in a few families, who did me the
+favour to admit me into their houses, without the most strict enquiry, to
+wash from one in the morning till eight at night, for eighteen or
+twenty-pence a day. On the happiness to be enjoyed over a washing-tub I
+need not comment; yet you will allow me to observe, that this was a
+wretchedness of situation peculiar to my sex. A man with half my
+industry, and, I may say, abilities, could have procured a decent
+livelihood, and discharged some of the duties which knit mankind
+together; whilst I, who had acquired a taste for the rational, nay, in
+honest pride let me assert it, the virtuous enjoyments of life, was cast
+aside as the filth of society. Condemned to labour, like a machine, only
+to earn bread, and scarcely that, I became melancholy and desperate.
+
+"I have now to mention a circumstance which fills me with remorse, and
+fear it will entirely deprive me of your esteem. A tradesman became
+attached to me, and visited me frequently,--and I at last obtained such a
+power over him, that he offered to take me home to his house.--Consider,
+dear madam, I was famishing: wonder not that I became a wolf!--The only
+reason for not taking me home immediately, was the having a girl in the
+house, with child by him--and this girl--I advised him--yes, I did! would
+I could forget it!--to turn out of doors: and one night he determined to
+follow my advice, Poor wretch! she fell upon her knees, reminded him
+that he had promised to marry her, that her parents were honest!--What
+did it avail?--She was turned out.
+
+"She approached her father's door, in the skirts of London,--listened at
+the shutters,--but could not knock. A watchman had observed her go and
+return several times--Poor wretch!--"The remorse Jemima spoke of, seemed
+to be stinging her to the soul, as she proceeded."
+
+"She left it, and, approaching a tub where horses were watered, she sat
+down in it, and, with desperate resolution, remained in that
+attitude--till resolution was no longer necessary!
+
+"I happened that morning to be going out to wash, anticipating the moment
+when I should escape from such hard labour. I passed by, just as some
+men, going to work, drew out the stiff, cold corpse--Let me not recal the
+horrid moment!--I recognized her pale visage; I listened to the tale told
+by the spectators, and my heart did not burst. I thought of my own state,
+and wondered how I could be such a monster!--I worked hard; and,
+returning home, I was attacked by a fever. I suffered both in body and
+mind. I determined not to live with the wretch. But he did not try me; he
+left the neighbourhood. I once more returned to the wash-tub.
+
+"Still this state, miserable as it was, admitted of aggravation. Lifting
+one day a heavy load, a tub fell against my shin, and gave me great pain.
+I did not pay much attention to the hurt, till it became a serious wound;
+being obliged to work as usual, or starve. But, finding myself at length
+unable to stand for any time, I thought of getting into an hospital.
+Hospitals, it should seem (for they are comfortless abodes for the sick)
+were expressly endowed for the reception of the friendless; yet I, who
+had on that plea a right to assistance, wanted the recommendation of the
+rich and respectable, and was several weeks languishing for admittance;
+fees were demanded on entering; and, what was still more unreasonable,
+security for burying me, that expence not coming into the letter of the
+charity. A guinea was the stipulated sum--I could as soon have raised a
+million; and I was afraid to apply to the parish for an order, lest they
+should have passed me, I knew not whither. The poor woman at whose house
+I lodged, compassionating my state, got me into the hospital; and the
+family where I received the hurt, sent me five shillings, three and
+six-pence of which I gave at my admittance--I know not for what.
+
+"My leg grew quickly better; but I was dismissed before my cure was
+completed, because I could not afford to have my linen washed to appear
+decently, as the virago of a nurse said, when the gentlemen (the
+surgeons) came. I cannot give you an adequate idea of the wretchedness of
+an hospital; every thing is left to the care of people intent on gain.
+The attendants seem to have lost all feeling of compassion in the
+bustling discharge of their offices; death is so familiar to them, that
+they are not anxious to ward it off. Every thing appeared to be conducted
+for the accommodation of the medical men and their pupils, who came to
+make experiments on the poor, for the benefit of the rich. One of the
+physicians, I must not forget to mention, gave me half-a-crown, and
+ordered me some wine, when I was at the lowest ebb. I thought of making
+my case known to the lady-like matron; but her forbidding countenance
+prevented me. She condescended to look on the patients, and make general
+enquiries, two or three times a week; but the nurses knew the hour when
+the visit of ceremony would commence, and every thing was as it should
+be.
+
+"After my dismission, I was more at a loss than ever for a subsistence,
+and, not to weary you with a repetition of the same unavailing attempts,
+unable to stand at the washing-tub, I began to consider the rich and poor
+as natural enemies, and became a thief from principle. I could not now
+cease to reason, but I hated mankind. I despised myself, yet I justified
+my conduct. I was taken, tried, and condemned to six months' imprisonment
+in a house of correction. My soul recoils with horror from the
+remembrance of the insults I had to endure, till, branded with shame, I
+was turned loose in the street, pennyless. I wandered from street to
+street, till, exhausted by hunger and fatigue, I sunk down senseless at a
+door, where I had vainly demanded a morsel of bread. I was sent by the
+inhabitant to the work-house, to which he had surlily bid me go, saying,
+he 'paid enough in conscience to the poor,' when, with parched tongue, I
+implored his charity. If those well-meaning people who exclaim against
+beggars, were acquainted with the treatment the poor receive in many of
+these wretched asylums, they would not stifle so easily involuntary
+sympathy, by saying that they have all parishes to go to, or wonder that
+the poor dread to enter the gloomy walls. What are the common run of
+work-houses, but prisons, in which many respectable old people, worn out
+by immoderate labour, sink into the grave in sorrow, to which they are
+carried like dogs!"
+
+Alarmed by some indistinct noise, Jemima rose hastily to listen, and
+Maria, turning to Darnford, said, "I have indeed been shocked beyond
+expression when I have met a pauper's funeral. A coffin carried on the
+shoulders of three or four ill-looking wretches, whom the imagination
+might easily convert into a band of assassins, hastening to conceal the
+corpse, and quarrelling about the prey on their way. I know it is of
+little consequence how we are consigned to the earth; but I am led by
+this brutal insensibility, to what even the animal creation appears
+forcibly to feel, to advert to the wretched, deserted manner in which
+they died."
+
+"True," rejoined Darnford, "and, till the rich will give more than a part
+of their wealth, till they will give time and attention to the wants of
+the distressed, never let them boast of charity. Let them open their
+hearts, and not their purses, and employ their minds in the service, if
+they are really actuated by humanity; or charitable institutions will
+always be the prey of the lowest order of knaves."
+
+Jemima returning, seemed in haste to finish her tale. "The overseer
+farmed the poor of different parishes, and out of the bowels of poverty
+was wrung the money with which he purchased this dwelling, as a private
+receptacle for madness. He had been a keeper at a house of the same
+description, and conceived that he could make money much more readily in
+his old occupation. He is a shrewd--shall I say it?--villain. He observed
+something resolute in my manner, and offered to take me with him, and
+instruct me how to treat the disturbed minds he meant to intrust to my
+care. The offer of forty pounds a year, and to quit a workhouse, was not
+to be despised, though the condition of shutting my eyes and hardening my
+heart was annexed to it.
+
+"I agreed to accompany him; and four years have I been attendant on many
+wretches, and"--she lowered her voice,--"the witness of many enormities.
+In solitude my mind seemed to recover its force, and many of the
+sentiments which I imbibed in the only tolerable period of my life,
+returned with their full force. Still what should induce me to be the
+champion for suffering humanity?--Who ever risked any thing for me?--Who
+ever acknowledged me to be a fellow-creature?"--
+
+Maria took her hand, and Jemima, more overcome by kindness than she had
+ever been by cruelty, hastened out of the room to conceal her emotions.
+
+Darnford soon after heard his summons, and, taking leave of him, Maria
+promised to gratify his curiosity, with respect to herself, the first
+opportunity.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[114-A] The copy which appears to have received the author's last
+corrections, ends at this place.
+
+
+
+
+CHAP. VI.
+
+
+ACTIVE as love was in the heart of Maria, the story she had just heard
+made her thoughts take a wider range. The opening buds of hope closed, as
+if they had put forth too early, and the the happiest day of her life was
+overcast by the most melancholy reflections. Thinking of Jemima's
+peculiar fate and her own, she was led to consider the oppressed state of
+women, and to lament that she had given birth to a daughter. Sleep fled
+from her eyelids, while she dwelt on the wretchedness of unprotected
+infancy, till sympathy with Jemima changed to agony, when it seemed
+probable that her own babe might even now be in the very state she so
+forcibly described.
+
+Maria thought, and thought again. Jemima's humanity had rather been
+benumbed than killed, by the keen frost she had to brave at her entrance
+into life; an appeal then to her feelings, on this tender point, surely
+would not be fruitless; and Maria began to anticipate the delight it
+would afford her to gain intelligence of her child. This project was now
+the only subject of reflection; and she watched impatiently for the dawn
+of day, with that determinate purpose which generally insures success.
+
+At the usual hour, Jemima brought her breakfast, and a tender note from
+Darnford. She ran her eye hastily over it, and her heart calmly hoarded
+up the rapture a fresh assurance of affection, affection such as she
+wished to inspire, gave her, without diverting her mind a moment from its
+design. While Jemima waited to take away the breakfast, Maria alluded to
+the reflections, that had haunted her during the night to the exclusion
+of sleep. She spoke with energy of Jemima's unmerited sufferings, and of
+the fate of a number of deserted females, placed within the sweep of a
+whirlwind, from which it was next to impossible to escape. Perceiving the
+effect her conversation produced on the countenance of her guard, she
+grasped the arm of Jemima with that irresistible warmth which defies
+repulse, exclaiming--"With your heart, and such dreadful experience, can
+you lend your aid to deprive my babe of a mother's tenderness, a mother's
+care? In the name of God, assist me to snatch her from destruction! Let
+me but give her an education--let me but prepare her body and mind to
+encounter the ills which await her sex, and I will teach her to consider
+you as her second mother, and herself as the prop of your age. Yes,
+Jemima, look at me--observe me closely, and read my very soul; you merit
+a better fate;" she held out her hand with a firm gesture of assurance;
+"and I will procure it for you, as a testimony of my esteem, as well as
+of my gratitude."
+
+Jemima had not power to resist this persuasive torrent; and, owning that
+the house in which she was confined, was situated on the banks of the
+Thames, only a few miles from London, and not on the sea-coast, as
+Darnford had supposed, she promised to invent some excuse for her
+absence, and go herself to trace the situation, and enquire concerning
+the health, of this abandoned daughter. Her manner implied an intention
+to do something more, but she seemed unwilling to impart her design; and
+Maria, glad to have obtained the main point, thought it best to leave her
+to the workings of her own mind; convinced that she had the power of
+interesting her still more in favour of herself and child, by a simple
+recital of facts.
+
+In the evening, Jemima informed the impatient mother, that on the morrow
+she should hasten to town before the family hour of rising, and received
+all the information necessary, as a clue to her search. The "Good night!"
+Maria uttered was peculiarly solemn and affectionate. Glad expectation
+sparkled in her eye; and, for the first time since her detention, she
+pronounced the name of her child with pleasureable fondness; and, with
+all the garrulity of a nurse, described her first smile when she
+recognized her mother. Recollecting herself, a still kinder "Adieu!" with
+a "God bless you!"--that seemed to include a maternal benediction,
+dismissed Jemima.
+
+The dreary solitude of the ensuing day, lengthened by impatiently
+dwelling on the same idea, was intolerably wearisome. She listened for
+the sound of a particular clock, which some directions of the wind
+allowed her to hear distinctly. She marked the shadow gaining on the
+wall; and, twilight thickening into darkness, her breath seemed oppressed
+while she anxiously counted nine.--The last sound was a stroke of
+despair on her heart; for she expected every moment, without seeing
+Jemima, to have her light extinguished by the savage female who supplied
+her place. She was even obliged to prepare for bed, restless as she was,
+not to disoblige her new attendant. She had been cautioned not to speak
+too freely to her; but the caution was needless, her countenance would
+still more emphatically have made her shrink back. Such was the ferocity
+of manner, conspicuous in every word and gesture of this hag, that Maria
+was afraid to enquire, why Jemima, who had faithfully promised to see her
+before her door was shut for the night, came not?--and, when the key
+turned in the lock, to consign her to a night of suspence, she felt a
+degree of anguish which the circumstances scarcely justified.
+
+Continually on the watch, the shutting of a door, or the sound of a
+footstep, made her start and tremble with apprehension, something like
+what she felt, when, at her entrance, dragged along the gallery, she
+began to doubt whether she were not surrounded by demons?
+
+Fatigued by an endless rotation of thought and wild alarms, she looked
+like a spectre, when Jemima entered in the morning; especially as her
+eyes darted out of her head, to read in Jemima's countenance, almost as
+pallid, the intelligence she dared not trust her tongue to demand. Jemima
+put down the tea-things, and appeared very busy in arranging the table.
+Maria took up a cup with trembling hand, then forcibly recovering her
+fortitude, and restraining the convulsive movement which agitated the
+muscles of her mouth, she said, "Spare yourself the pain of preparing me
+for your information, I adjure you!--My child is dead!" Jemima solemnly
+answered, "Yes;" with a look expressive of compassion and angry emotions.
+"Leave me," added Maria, making a fresh effort to govern her feelings,
+and hiding her face in her handkerchief, to conceal her anguish--"It is
+enough--I know that my babe is no more--I will hear the particulars when
+I am"--_calmer_, she could not utter; and Jemima, without importuning her
+by idle attempts to console her, left the room.
+
+Plunged in the deepest melancholy, she would not admit Darnford's visits;
+and such is the force of early associations even on strong minds, that,
+for a while, she indulged the superstitious notion that she was justly
+punished by the death of her child, for having for an instant ceased to
+regret her loss. Two or three letters from Darnford, full of soothing,
+manly tenderness, only added poignancy to these accusing emotions; yet
+the passionate style in which he expressed, what he termed the first and
+fondest wish of his heart, "that his affection might make her some amends
+for the cruelty and injustice she had endured," inspired a sentiment of
+gratitude to heaven; and her eyes filled with delicious tears, when, at
+the conclusion of his letter, wishing to supply the place of her unworthy
+relations, whose want of principle he execrated, he assured her, calling
+her his dearest girl, "that it should henceforth be the business of his
+life to make her happy."
+
+He begged, in a note sent the following morning, to be permitted to see
+her, when his presence would be no intrusion on her grief; and so
+earnestly intreated to be allowed, according to promise, to beguile the
+tedious moments of absence, by dwelling on the events of her past life,
+that she sent him the memoirs which had been written for her daughter,
+promising Jemima the perusal as soon as he returned them.
+
+
+
+
+CHAP. VII.
+
+
+"ADDRESSING these memoirs to you, my child, uncertain whether I shall
+ever have an opportunity of instructing you, many observations will
+probably flow from my heart, which only a mother--a mother schooled in
+misery, could make.
+
+"The tenderness of a father who knew the world, might be great; but could
+it equal that of a mother--of a mother, labouring under a portion of the
+misery, which the constitution of society seems to have entailed on all
+her kind? It is, my child, my dearest daughter, only such a mother, who
+will dare to break through all restraint to provide for your
+happiness--who will voluntarily brave censure herself, to ward off
+sorrow from your bosom. From my narrative, my dear girl, you may gather
+the instruction, the counsel, which is meant rather to exercise than
+influence your mind.--Death may snatch me from you, before you can weigh
+my advice, or enter into my reasoning: I would then, with fond anxiety,
+lead you very early in life to form your grand principle of action, to
+save you from the vain regret of having, through irresolution, let the
+spring-tide of existence pass away, unimproved, unenjoyed.--Gain
+experience--ah! gain it--while experience is worth having, and acquire
+sufficient fortitude to pursue your own happiness; it includes your
+utility, by a direct path. What is wisdom too often, but the owl of the
+goddess, who sits moping in a desolated heart; around me she shrieks,
+but I would invite all the gay warblers of spring to nestle in your
+blooming bosom.--Had I not wasted years in deliberating, after I ceased
+to doubt, how I ought to have acted--I might now be useful and
+happy.--For my sake, warned by my example, always appear what you are,
+and you will not pass through existence without enjoying its genuine
+blessings, love and respect.
+
+"Born in one of the most romantic parts of England, an enthusiastic
+fondness for the varying charms of nature is the first sentiment I
+recollect; or rather it was the first consciousness of pleasure that
+employed and formed my imagination.
+
+"My father had been a captain of a man of war; but, disgusted with the
+service, on account of the preferment of men whose chief merit was their
+family connections or borough interest, he retired into the country; and,
+not knowing what to do with himself--married. In his family, to regain
+his lost consequence, he determined to keep up the same passive
+obedience, as in the vessels in which he had commanded. His orders were
+not to be disputed; and the whole house was expected to fly, at the word
+of command, as if to man the shrouds, or mount aloft in an elemental
+strife, big with life or death. He was to be instantaneously obeyed,
+especially by my mother, whom he very benevolently married for love; but
+took care to remind her of the obligation, when she dared, in the
+slightest instance, to question his absolute authority. My eldest
+brother, it is true, as he grew up, was treated with more respect by my
+father; and became in due form the deputy-tyrant of the house. The
+representative of my father, a being privileged by nature--a boy, and the
+darling of my mother, he did not fail to act like an heir apparent. Such
+indeed was my mother's extravagant partiality, that, in comparison with
+her affection for him, she might be said not to love the rest of her
+children. Yet none of the children seemed to have so little affection for
+her. Extreme indulgence had rendered him so selfish, that he only thought
+of himself; and from tormenting insects and animals, he became the despot
+of his brothers, and still more of his sisters.
+
+"It is perhaps difficult to give you an idea of the petty cares which
+obscured the morning of my life; continual restraint in the most trivial
+matters; unconditional submission to orders, which, as a mere child, I
+soon discovered to be unreasonable, because inconsistent and
+contradictory. Thus are we destined to experience a mixture of
+bitterness, with the recollection of our most innocent enjoyments.
+
+"The circumstances which, during my childhood, occurred to fashion my
+mind, were various; yet, as it would probably afford me more pleasure to
+revive the fading remembrance of new-born delight, than you, my child,
+could feel in the perusal, I will not entice you to stray with me into
+the verdant meadow, to search for the flowers that youthful hopes scatter
+in every path; though, as I write, I almost scent the fresh green of
+spring--of that spring which never returns!
+
+"I had two sisters, and one brother, younger than myself; my brother
+Robert was two years older, and might truly be termed the idol of his
+parents, and the torment of the rest of the family. Such indeed is the
+force of prejudice, that what was called spirit and wit in him, was
+cruelly repressed as forwardness in me.
+
+"My mother had an indolence of character, which prevented her from paying
+much attention to our education. But the healthy breeze of a neighbouring
+heath, on which we bounded at pleasure, volatilized the humours that
+improper food might have generated. And to enjoy open air and freedom,
+was paradise, after the unnatural restraint of our fire-side, where we
+were often obliged to sit three or four hours together, without daring to
+utter a word, when my father was out of humour, from want of employment,
+or of a variety of boisterous amusement. I had however one advantage, an
+instructor, the brother of my father, who, intended for the church, had
+of course received a liberal education. But, becoming attached to a young
+lady of great beauty and large fortune, and acquiring in the world some
+opinions not consonant with the profession for which he was designed, he
+accepted, with the most sanguine expectations of success, the offer of a
+nobleman to accompany him to India, as his confidential secretary.
+
+"A correspondence was regularly kept up with the object of his affection;
+and the intricacies of business, peculiarly wearisome to a man of a
+romantic turn of mind, contributed, with a forced absence, to increase
+his attachment. Every other passion was lost in this master-one, and
+only served to swell the torrent. Her relations, such were his waking
+dreams, who had despised him, would court in their turn his alliance, and
+all the blandishments of taste would grace the triumph of love.--While he
+basked in the warm sunshine of love, friendship also promised to shed its
+dewy freshness; for a friend, whom he loved next to his mistress, was the
+confident, who forwarded the letters from one to the other, to elude the
+observation of prying relations. A friend false in similar circumstances,
+is, my dearest girl, an old tale; yet, let not this example, or the
+frigid caution of cold-blooded moralists, make you endeavour to stifle
+hopes, which are the buds that naturally unfold themselves during the
+spring of life! Whilst your own heart is sincere, always expect to meet
+one glowing with the same sentiments; for to fly from pleasure, is not to
+avoid pain!
+
+"My uncle realized, by good luck, rather than management, a handsome
+fortune; and returning on the wings of love, lost in the most enchanting
+reveries, to England, to share it with his mistress and his friend, he
+found them--united.
+
+"There were some circumstances, not necessary for me to recite, which
+aggravated the guilt of the friend beyond measure, and the deception,
+that had been carried on to the last moment, was so base, it produced the
+most violent effect on my uncle's health and spirits. His native country,
+the world! lately a garden of blooming sweets, blasted by treachery,
+seemed changed into a parched desert, the abode of hissing serpents.
+Disappointment rankled in his heart; and, brooding over his wrongs, he
+was attacked by a raging fever, followed by a derangement of mind, which
+only gave place to habitual melancholy, as he recovered more strength of
+body.
+
+"Declaring an intention never to marry, his relations were ever
+clustering about him, paying the grossest adulation to a man, who,
+disgusted with mankind, received them with scorn, or bitter sarcasms.
+Something in my countenance pleased him, when I began to prattle. Since
+his return, he appeared dead to affection; but I soon, by showing him
+innocent fondness, became a favourite; and endeavouring to enlarge and
+strengthen my mind, I grew dear to him in proportion as I imbibed his
+sentiments. He had a forcible manner of speaking, rendered more so by a
+certain impressive wildness of look and gesture, calculated to engage the
+attention of a young and ardent mind. It is not then surprising that I
+quickly adopted his opinions in preference, and reverenced him as one of
+a superior order of beings. He inculcated, with great warmth,
+self-respect, and a lofty consciousness of acting right, independent of
+the censure or applause of the world; nay, he almost taught me to brave,
+and even despise its censure, when convinced of the rectitude of my own
+intentions.
+
+"Endeavouring to prove to me that nothing which deserved the name of love
+or friendship, existed in the world, he drew such animated pictures of
+his own feelings, rendered permanent by disappointment, as imprinted the
+sentiments strongly on my heart, and animated my imagination. These
+remarks are necessary to elucidate some peculiarities in my character,
+which by the world are indefinitely termed romantic.
+
+"My uncle's increasing affection led him to visit me often. Still, unable
+to rest in any place, he did not remain long in the country to soften
+domestic tyranny; but he brought me books, for which I had a passion, and
+they conspired with his conversation, to make me form an ideal picture of
+life. I shall pass over the tyranny of my father, much as I suffered from
+it; but it is necessary to notice, that it undermined my mother's health;
+and that her temper, continually irritated by domestic bickering, became
+intolerably peevish.
+
+"My eldest brother was articled to a neighbouring attorney, the
+shrewdest, and, I may add, the most unprincipled man in that part of the
+country. As my brother generally came home every Saturday, to astonish my
+mother by exhibiting his attainments, he gradually assumed a right of
+directing the whole family, not excepting my father. He seemed to take a
+peculiar pleasure in tormenting and humbling me; and if I ever ventured
+to complain of this treatment to either my father or mother, I was rudely
+rebuffed for presuming to judge of the conduct of my eldest brother.
+
+"About this period a merchant's family came to settle in our
+neighbourhood. A mansion-house in the village, lately purchased, had been
+preparing the whole spring, and the sight of the costly furniture, sent
+from London, had excited my mother's envy, and roused my father's pride.
+My sensations were very different, and all of a pleasurable kind. I
+longed to see new characters, to break the tedious monotony of my life;
+and to find a friend, such as fancy had pourtrayed. I cannot then
+describe the emotion I felt, the Sunday they made their appearance at
+church. My eyes were rivetted on the pillar round which I expected first
+to catch a glimpse of them, and darted forth to meet a servant who
+hastily preceded a group of ladies, whose white robes and waving plumes,
+seemed to stream along the gloomy aisle, diffusing the light, by which I
+contemplated their figures.
+
+"We visited them in form; and I quickly selected the eldest daughter for
+my friend. The second son, George, paid me particular attention, and
+finding his attainments and manners superior to those of the young men of
+the village, I began to imagine him superior to the rest of mankind. Had
+my home been more comfortable, or my previous acquaintance more numerous,
+I should not probably have been so eager to open my heart to new
+affections.
+
+"Mr. Venables, the merchant, had acquired a large fortune by unremitting
+attention to business; but his health declining rapidly, he was obliged
+to retire, before his son, George, had acquired sufficient experience, to
+enable him to conduct their affairs on the same prudential plan, his
+father had invariably pursued. Indeed, he had laboured to throw off his
+authority, having despised his narrow plans and cautious speculation. The
+eldest son could not be prevailed on to enter the firm; and, to oblige
+his wife, and have peace in the house, Mr. Venables had purchased a
+commission for him in the guards.
+
+"I am now alluding to circumstances which came to my knowledge long
+after; but it is necessary, my dearest child, that you should know the
+character of your father, to prevent your despising your mother; the only
+parent inclined to discharge a parent's duty. In London, George had
+acquired habits of libertinism, which he carefully concealed from his
+father and his commercial connections. The mask he wore, was so complete
+a covering of his real visage, that the praise his father lavished on his
+conduct, and, poor mistaken man! on his principles, contrasted with his
+brother's, rendered the notice he took of me peculiarly flattering.
+Without any fixed design, as I am now convinced, he continued to single
+me out at the dance, press my hand at parting, and utter expressions of
+unmeaning passion, to which I gave a meaning naturally suggested by the
+romantic turn of my thoughts. His stay in the country was short; his
+manners did not entirely please me; but, when he left us, the colouring
+of my picture became more vivid--Whither did not my imagination lead me?
+In short, I fancied myself in love--in love with the disinterestedness,
+fortitude, generosity, dignity, and humanity, with which I had invested
+the hero I dubbed. A circumstance which soon after occurred, rendered all
+these virtues palpable. [The incident is perhaps worth relating on other
+accounts, and therefore I shall describe it distinctly.]
+
+"I had a great affection for my nurse, old Mary, for whom I used often to
+work, to spare her eyes. Mary had a younger sister, married to a sailor,
+while she was suckling me; for my mother only suckled my eldest brother,
+which might be the cause of her extraordinary partiality. Peggy, Mary's
+sister, lived with her, till her husband, becoming a mate in a West-India
+trader, got a little before-hand in the world. He wrote to his wife from
+the first port in the Channel, after his most successful voyage, to
+request her to come to London to meet him; he even wished her to
+determine on living there for the future, to save him the trouble of
+coming to her the moment he came on shore; and to turn a penny by
+keeping a green-stall. It was too much to set out on a journey the
+moment he had finished a voyage, and fifty miles by land, was worse than
+a thousand leagues by sea.
+
+"She packed up her alls, and came to London--but did not meet honest
+Daniel. A common misfortune prevented her, and the poor are bound to
+suffer for the good of their country--he was pressed in the river--and
+never came on shore.
+
+"Peggy was miserable in London, not knowing, as she said, 'the face of
+any living soul.' Besides, her imagination had been employed,
+anticipating a month or six weeks' happiness with her husband. Daniel was
+to have gone with her to Sadler's Wells, and Westminster Abbey, and to
+many sights, which he knew she never heard of in the country. Peggy too
+was thrifty, and how could she manage to put his plan in execution
+alone? He had acquaintance; but she did not know the very name of their
+places of abode. His letters were made up of--How do you does, and God
+bless yous,--information was reserved for the hour of meeting.
+
+"She too had her portion of information, near at heart. Molly and Jacky
+were grown such little darlings, she was almost angry that daddy did not
+see their tricks. She had not half the pleasure she should have had from
+their prattle, could she have recounted to him each night the pretty
+speeches of the day. Some stories, however, were stored up--and Jacky
+could say papa with such a sweet voice, it must delight his heart. Yet
+when she came, and found no Daniel to greet her, when Jacky called papa,
+she wept, bidding 'God bless his innocent soul, that did not know what
+sorrow was.'--But more sorrow was in store for Peggy, innocent as she
+was.--Daniel was killed in the first engagement, and then the _papa_ was
+agony, sounding to the heart.
+
+"She had lived sparingly on his wages, while there was any hope of his
+return; but, that gone, she returned with a breaking heart to the
+country, to a little market town, nearly three miles from our village.
+She did not like to go to service, to be snubbed about, after being her
+own mistress. To put her children out to nurse was impossible: how far
+would her wages go? and to send them to her husband's parish, a distant
+one, was to lose her husband twice over.
+
+"I had heard all from Mary, and made my uncle furnish a little cottage
+for her, to enable her to sell--so sacred was poor Daniel's advice, now
+he was dead and gone--a little fruit, toys and cakes. The minding of the
+shop did not require her whole time, nor even the keeping her children
+clean, and she loved to see them clean; so she took in washing, and
+altogether made a shift to earn bread for her children, still weeping for
+Daniel, when Jacky's arch looks made her think of his father.--It was
+pleasant to work for her children.--'Yes; from morning till night, could
+she have had a kiss from their father, God rest his soul! Yes; had it
+pleased Providence to have let him come back without a leg or an arm, it
+would have been the same thing to her--for she did not love him because
+he maintained them--no; she had hands of her own.'
+
+"The country people were honest, and Peggy left her linen out to dry very
+late. A recruiting party, as she supposed, passing through, made free
+with a large wash; for it was all swept away, including her own and her
+children's little stock.
+
+"This was a dreadful blow; two dozen of shirts, stocks and handkerchiefs.
+She gave the money which she had laid by for half a year's rent, and
+promised to pay two shillings a week till all was cleared; so she did not
+lose her employment. This two shillings a week, and the buying a few
+necessaries for the children, drove her so hard, that she had not a penny
+to pay her rent with, when a twelvemonth's became due.
+
+"She was now with Mary, and had just told her tale, which Mary instantly
+repeated--it was intended for my ear. Many houses in this town, producing
+a borough-interest, were included in the estate purchased by Mr.
+Venables, and the attorney with whom my brother lived, was appointed his
+agent, to collect and raise the rents.
+
+"He demanded Peggy's, and, in spite of her intreaties, her poor goods had
+been seized and sold. So that she had not, and what was worse her
+children, 'for she had known sorrow enough,' a bed to lie on. She knew
+that I was good-natured--right charitable, yet not liking to ask for more
+than needs must, she scorned to petition while people could any how be
+made to wait. But now, should she be turned out of doors, she must
+expect nothing less than to lose all her customers, and then she must
+beg or starve--and what would become of her children?--'had Daniel not
+been pressed--but God knows best--all this could not have happened.'
+
+"I had two mattrasses on my bed; what did I want with two, when such a
+worthy creature must lie on the ground? My mother would be angry, but I
+could conceal it till my uncle came down; and then I would tell him all
+the whole truth, and if he absolved me, heaven would.
+
+"I begged the house-maid to come up stairs with me (servants always feel
+for the distresses of poverty, and so would the rich if they knew what it
+was). She assisted me to tie up the mattrass; I discovering, at the same
+time, that one blanket would serve me till winter, could I persuade my
+sister, who slept with me, to keep my secret. She entering in the midst
+of the package, I gave her some new feathers, to silence her. We got the
+mattrass down the back stairs, unperceived, and I helped to carry it,
+taking with me all the money I had, and what I could borrow from my
+sister.
+
+"When I got to the cottage, Peggy declared that she would not take what I
+had brought secretly; but, when, with all the eager eloquence inspired by
+a decided purpose, I grasped her hand with weeping eyes, assuring her
+that my uncle would screen me from blame, when he was once more in the
+country, describing, at the same time, what she would suffer in parting
+with her children, after keeping them so long from being thrown on the
+parish, she reluctantly consented.
+
+"My project of usefulness ended not here; I determined to speak to the
+attorney; he frequently paid me compliments. His character did not
+intimidate me; but, imagining that Peggy must be mistaken, and that no
+man could turn a deaf ear to such a tale of complicated distress, I
+determined to walk to the town with Mary the next morning, and request
+him to wait for the rent, and keep my secret, till my uncle's return.
+
+"My repose was sweet; and, waking with the first dawn of day, I bounded
+to Mary's cottage. What charms do not a light heart spread over nature!
+Every bird that twittered in a bush, every flower that enlivened the
+hedge, seemed placed there to awaken me to rapture--yes; to rapture. The
+present moment was full fraught with happiness; and on futurity I
+bestowed not a thought, excepting to anticipate my success with the
+attorney.
+
+"This man of the world, with rosy face and simpering features, received
+me politely, nay kindly; listened with complacency to my remonstrances,
+though he scarcely heeded Mary's tears. I did not then suspect, that my
+eloquence was in my complexion, the blush of seventeen, or that, in a
+world where humanity to women is the characteristic of advancing
+civilization, the beauty of a young girl was so much more interesting
+than the distress of an old one. Pressing my hand, he promised to let
+Peggy remain in the house as long as I wished.--I more than returned the
+pressure--I was so grateful and so happy. Emboldened by my innocent
+warmth, he then kissed me--and I did not draw back--I took it for a kiss
+of charity.
+
+"Gay as a lark, I went to dine at Mr. Venables'. I had previously
+obtained five shillings from my father, towards re-clothing the poor
+children of my care, and prevailed on my mother to take one of the girls
+into the house, whom I determined to teach to work and read.
+
+"After dinner, when the younger part of the circle retired to the music
+room, I recounted with energy my tale; that is, I mentioned Peggy's
+distress, without hinting at the steps I had taken to relieve her. Miss
+Venables gave me half-a-crown; the heir five shillings; but George sat
+unmoved. I was cruelly distressed by the disappointment--I scarcely could
+remain on my chair; and, could I have got out of the room unperceived, I
+should have flown home, as if to run away from myself. After several
+vain attempts to rise, I leaned my head against the marble chimney-piece,
+and gazing on the evergreens that filled the fire-place, moralized on the
+vanity of human expectations; regardless of the company. I was roused by
+a gentle tap on my shoulder from behind Charlotte's chair. I turned my
+head, and George slid a guinea into my hand, putting his finger to his
+mouth, to enjoin me silence.
+
+"What a revolution took place, not only in my train of thoughts, but
+feelings! I trembled with emotion--now, indeed, I was in love. Such
+delicacy too, to enhance his benevolence! I felt in my pocket every five
+minutes, only to feel the guinea; and its magic touch invested my hero
+with more than mortal beauty. My fancy had found a basis to erect its
+model of perfection on; and quickly went to work, with all the happy
+credulity of youth, to consider that heart as devoted to virtue, which
+had only obeyed a virtuous impulse. The bitter experience was yet to
+come, that has taught me how very distinct are the principles of virtue,
+from the casual feelings from which they germinate.
+
+
+
+
+CHAP. VIII.
+
+
+"I HAVE perhaps dwelt too long on a circumstance, which is only of
+importance as it marks the progress of a deception that has been so fatal
+to my peace; and introduces to your notice a poor girl, whom, intending
+to serve, I led to ruin. Still it is probable that I was not entirely the
+victim of mistake; and that your father, gradually fashioned by the
+world, did not quickly become what I hesitate to call him--out of respect
+to my daughter.
+
+"But, to hasten to the more busy scenes of my life. Mr. Venables and my
+mother died the same summer; and, wholly engrossed by my attention to
+her, I thought of little else. The neglect of her darling, my brother
+Robert, had a violent effect on her weakened mind; for, though boys may
+be reckoned the pillars of the house without doors, girls are often the
+only comfort within. They but too frequently waste their health and
+spirits attending a dying parent, who leaves them in comparative poverty.
+After closing, with filial piety, a father's eyes, they are chased from
+the paternal roof, to make room for the first-born, the son, who is to
+carry the empty family-name down to posterity; though, occupied with his
+own pleasures, he scarcely thought of discharging, in the decline of his
+parent's life, the debt contracted in his childhood. My mother's conduct
+led me to make these reflections. Great as was the fatigue I endured, and
+the affection my unceasing solicitude evinced, of which my mother seemed
+perfectly sensible, still, when my brother, whom I could hardly persuade
+to remain a quarter of an hour in her chamber, was with her alone, a
+short time before her death, she gave him a little hoard, which she had
+been some years accumulating.
+
+"During my mother's illness, I was obliged to manage my father's temper,
+who, from the lingering nature of her malady, began to imagine that it
+was merely fancy. At this period, an artful kind of upper servant
+attracted my father's attention, and the neighbours made many remarks on
+the finery, not honestly got, exhibited at evening service. But I was too
+much occupied with my mother to observe any change in her dress or
+behaviour, or to listen to the whisper of scandal.
+
+"I shall not dwell on the death-bed scene, lively as is the remembrance,
+or on the emotion produced by the last grasp of my mother's cold hand;
+when blessing me, she added, 'A little patience, and all will be over!'
+Ah! my child, how often have those words rung mournfully in my ears--and
+I have exclaimed--'A little more patience, and I too shall be at rest!'
+
+"My father was violently affected by her death, recollected instances of
+his unkindness, and wept like a child.
+
+"My mother had solemnly recommended my sisters to my care, and bid me be
+a mother to them. They, indeed, became more dear to me as they became
+more forlorn; for, during my mother's illness, I discovered the ruined
+state of my father's circumstances, and that he had only been able to
+keep up appearances, by the sums which he borrowed of my uncle.
+
+"My father's grief, and consequent tenderness to his children, quickly
+abated, the house grew still more gloomy or riotous; and my refuge from
+care was again at Mr. Venables'; the young 'squire having taken his
+father's place, and allowing, for the present, his sister to preside at
+his table. George, though dissatisfied with his portion of the fortune,
+which had till lately been all in trade, visited the family as usual. He
+was now full of speculations in trade, and his brow became clouded by
+care. He seemed to relax in his attention to me, when the presence of my
+uncle gave a new turn to his behaviour. I was too unsuspecting, too
+disinterested, to trace these changes to their source.
+
+My home every day became more and more disagreeable to me; my liberty was
+unnecessarily abridged, and my books, on the pretext that they made me
+idle, taken from me. My father's mistress was with child, and he, doating
+on her, allowed or overlooked her vulgar manner of tyrannizing over us. I
+was indignant, especially when I saw her endeavouring to attract, shall I
+say seduce? my younger brother. By allowing women but one way of rising
+in the world, the fostering the libertinism of men, society makes
+monsters of them, and then their ignoble vices are brought forward as a
+proof of inferiority of intellect.
+
+The wearisomeness of my situation can scarcely be described. Though my
+life had not passed in the most even tenour with my mother, it was
+paradise to that I was destined to endure with my father's mistress,
+jealous of her illegitimate authority. My father's former occasional
+tenderness, in spite of his violence of temper, had been soothing to me;
+but now he only met me with reproofs or portentous frowns. The
+house-keeper, as she was now termed, was the vulgar despot of the family;
+and assuming the new character of a fine lady, she could never forgive
+the contempt which was sometimes visible in my countenance, when she
+uttered with pomposity her bad English, or affected to be well bred.
+
+To my uncle I ventured to open my heart; and he, with his wonted
+benevolence, began to consider in what manner he could extricate me out
+of my present irksome situation. In spite of his own disappointment, or,
+most probably, actuated by the feelings that had been petrified, not
+cooled, in all their sanguine fervour, like a boiling torrent of lava
+suddenly dashing into the sea, he thought a marriage of mutual
+inclination (would envious stars permit it) the only chance for happiness
+in this disastrous world. George Venables had the reputation of being
+attentive to business, and my father's example gave great weight to this
+circumstance; for habits of order in business would, he conceived, extend
+to the regulation of the affections in domestic life. George seldom spoke
+in my uncle's company, except to utter a short, judicious question, or to
+make a pertinent remark, with all due deference to his superior judgment;
+so that my uncle seldom left his company without observing, that the
+young man had more in him than people supposed.
+
+In this opinion he was not singular; yet, believe me, and I am not swayed
+by resentment, these speeches so justly poized, this silent deference,
+when the animal spirits of other young people were throwing off youthful
+ebullitions, were not the effect of thought or humility, but sheer
+barrenness of mind, and want of imagination. A colt of mettle will curvet
+and shew his paces. Yes; my dear girl, these prudent young men want all
+the fire necessary to ferment their faculties, and are characterized as
+wise, only because they are not foolish. It is true, that George was by
+no means so great a favourite of mine as during the first year of our
+acquaintance; still, as he often coincided in opinion with me, and echoed
+my sentiments; and having myself no other attachment, I heard with
+pleasure my uncle's proposal; but thought more of obtaining my freedom,
+than of my lover. But, when George, seemingly anxious for my happiness,
+pressed me to quit my present painful situation, my heart swelled with
+gratitude--I knew not that my uncle had promised him five thousand
+pounds.
+
+Had this truly generous man mentioned his intention to me, I should have
+insisted on a thousand pounds being settled on each of my sisters; George
+would have contested; I should have seen his selfish soul; and--gracious
+God! have been spared the misery of discovering, when too late, that I
+was united to a heartless, unprincipled wretch. All my schemes of
+usefulness would not then have been blasted. The tenderness of my heart
+would not have heated my imagination with visions of the ineffable
+delight of happy love; nor would the sweet duty of a mother have been so
+cruelly interrupted.
+
+But I must not suffer the fortitude I have so hardly acquired, to be
+undermined by unavailing regret. Let me hasten forward to describe the
+turbid stream in which I had to wade--but let me exultingly declare that
+it is passed--my soul holds fellowship with him no more. He cut the
+Gordian knot, which my principles, mistaken ones, respected; he dissolved
+the tie, the fetters rather, that ate into my very vitals--and I should
+rejoice, conscious that my mind is freed, though confined in hell itself;
+the only place that even fancy can imagine more dreadful than my present
+abode.
+
+These varying emotions will not allow me to proceed. I heave sigh after
+sigh; yet my heart is still oppressed. For what am I reserved? Why was I
+not born a man, or why was I born at all?
+
+
+END OF VOL. I.
+
+
+
+
+POSTHUMOUS WORKS
+
+OF
+
+MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT GODWIN.
+
+VOL. II.
+
+
+POSTHUMOUS WORKS
+
+OF THE
+
+AUTHOR
+
+OF A
+
+VINDICATION OF THE RIGHTS OF WOMAN.
+
+IN FOUR VOLUMES.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+VOL. II.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+_LONDON:_
+
+PRINTED FOR J. JOHNSON, NO. 72, ST. PAUL'S
+  CHURCH-YARD; AND G. G. AND J. ROBINSON,
+              PATERNOSTER-ROW.
+                   1798.
+
+
+
+THE
+
+WRONGS OF WOMAN:
+
+OR,
+
+MARIA.
+
+A FRAGMENT.
+
+IN TWO VOLUMES.
+
+
+VOL. II.
+
+
+
+
+_WRONGS_
+
+OF
+
+WOMAN.
+
+
+
+
+CHAP. IX.
+
+
+"I RESUME my pen to fly from thought. I was married; and we hastened to
+London. I had purposed taking one of my sisters with me; for a strong
+motive for marrying, was the desire of having a home at which I could
+receive them, now their own grew so uncomfortable, as not to deserve the
+cheering appellation. An objection was made to her accompanying me, that
+appeared plausible; and I reluctantly acquiesced. I was however willingly
+allowed to take with me Molly, poor Peggy's daughter. London and
+preferment, are ideas commonly associated in the country; and, as
+blooming as May, she bade adieu to Peggy with weeping eyes. I did not
+even feel hurt at the refusal in relation to my sister, till hearing what
+my uncle had done for me, I had the simplicity to request, speaking with
+warmth of their situation, that he would give them a thousand pounds
+a-piece, which seemed to me but justice. He asked me, giving me a kiss,
+'If I had lost my senses?' I started back, as if I had found a wasp in a
+rose-bush. I expostulated. He sneered; and the demon of discord entered
+our paradise, to poison with his pestiferous breath every opening joy.
+
+"I had sometimes observed defects in my husband's understanding; but, led
+astray by a prevailing opinion, that goodness of disposition is of the
+first importance in the relative situations of life, in proportion as I
+perceived the narrowness of his understanding, fancy enlarged the
+boundary of his heart. Fatal error! How quickly is the so much vaunted
+milkiness of nature turned into gall, by an intercourse with the world,
+if more generous juices do not sustain the vital source of virtue!
+
+"One trait in my character was extreme credulity; but, when my eyes were
+once opened, I saw but too clearly all I had before overlooked. My
+husband was sunk in my esteem; still there are youthful emotions, which,
+for a while, fill up the chasm of love and friendship. Besides, it
+required some time to enable me to see his whole character in a just
+light, or rather to allow it to become fixed. While circumstances were
+ripening my faculties, and cultivating my taste, commerce and gross
+relaxations were shutting his against any possibility of improvement,
+till, by stifling every spark of virtue in himself, he began to imagine
+that it no where existed.
+
+"Do not let me lead you astray, my child, I do not mean to assert, that
+any human being is entirely incapable of feeling the generous emotions,
+which are the foundation of every true principle of virtue; but they are
+frequently, I fear, so feeble, that, like the inflammable quality which
+more or less lurks in all bodies, they often lie for ever dormant; the
+circumstances never occurring, necessary to call them into action.
+
+"I discovered however by chance, that, in consequence of some losses in
+trade, the natural effect of his gambling desire to start suddenly into
+riches, the five thousand pounds given me by my uncle, had been paid very
+opportunely. This discovery, strange as you may think the assertion, gave
+me pleasure; my husband's embarrassments endeared him to me. I was glad
+to find an excuse for his conduct to my sisters, and my mind became
+calmer.
+
+"My uncle introduced me to some literary society; and the theatres were a
+never-failing source of amusement to me. My delighted eye followed Mrs.
+Siddons, when, with dignified delicacy, she played Calista; and I
+involuntarily repeated after her, in the same tone, and with a
+long-drawn sigh,
+
+    'Hearts like our's were pair'd--not match'd.'
+
+"These were, at first, spontaneous emotions, though, becoming acquainted
+with men of wit and polished manners, I could not sometimes help
+regretting my early marriage; and that, in my haste to escape from a
+temporary dependence, and expand my newly fledged wings, in an unknown
+sky, I had been caught in a trap, and caged for life. Still the novelty
+of London, and the attentive fondness of my husband, for he had some
+personal regard for me, made several months glide away. Yet, not
+forgetting the situation of my sisters, who were still very young, I
+prevailed on my uncle to settle a thousand pounds on each; and to place
+them in a school near town, where I could frequently visit, as well as
+have them at home with me.
+
+"I now tried to improve my husband's taste, but we had few subjects in
+common; indeed he soon appeared to have little relish for my society,
+unless he was hinting to me the use he could make of my uncle's wealth.
+When we had company, I was disgusted by an ostentatious display of
+riches, and I have often quitted the room, to avoid listening to
+exaggerated tales of money obtained by lucky hits.
+
+"With all my attention and affectionate interest, I perceived that I
+could not become the friend or confident of my husband. Every thing I
+learned relative to his affairs I gathered up by accident; and I vainly
+endeavoured to establish, at our fire-side, that social converse, which
+often renders people of different characters dear to each other.
+Returning from the theatre, or any amusing party, I frequently began to
+relate what I had seen and highly relished; but with sullen taciturnity
+he soon silenced me. I seemed therefore gradually to lose, in his
+society, the soul, the energies of which had just been in action. To such
+a degree, in fact, did his cold, reserved manner affect me, that, after
+spending some days with him alone, I have imagined myself the most stupid
+creature in the world, till the abilities of some casual visitor
+convinced me that I had some dormant animation, and sentiments above the
+dust in which I had been groveling. The very countenance of my husband
+changed; his complexion became sallow, and all the charms of youth were
+vanishing with its vivacity.
+
+"I give you one view of the subject; but these experiments and
+alterations took up the space of five years; during which period, I had
+most reluctantly extorted several sums from my uncle, to save my husband,
+to use his own words, from destruction. At first it was to prevent bills
+being noted, to the injury of his credit; then to bail him; and
+afterwards to prevent an execution from entering the house. I began at
+last to conclude, that he would have made more exertions of his own to
+extricate himself, had he not relied on mine, cruel as was the task he
+imposed on me; and I firmly determined that I would make use of no more
+pretexts.
+
+"From the moment I pronounced this determination, indifference on his
+part was changed into rudeness, or something worse.
+
+"He now seldom dined at home, and continually returned at a late hour,
+drunk, to bed. I retired to another apartment; I was glad, I own, to
+escape from his; for personal intimacy without affection, seemed, to me
+the most degrading, as well as the most painful state in which a woman of
+any taste, not to speak of the peculiar delicacy of fostered sensibility,
+could be placed. But my husband's fondness for women was of the grossest
+kind, and imagination was so wholly out of the question, as to render his
+indulgences of this sort entirely promiscuous, and of the most brutal
+nature. My health suffered, before my heart was entirely estranged by the
+loathsome information; could I then have returned to his sullied arms,
+but as a victim to the prejudices of mankind, who have made women the
+property of their husbands? I discovered even, by his conversation, when
+intoxicated, that his favourites were wantons of the lowest class, who
+could by their vulgar, indecent mirth, which he called nature, rouse his
+sluggish spirits. Meretricious ornaments and manners were necessary to
+attract his attention. He seldom looked twice at a modest woman, and sat
+silent in their company; and the charms of youth and beauty had not the
+slightest effect on his senses, unless the possessors were initiated in
+vice. His intimacy with profligate women, and his habits of thinking,
+gave him a contempt for female endowments; and he would repeat, when
+wine had loosed his tongue, most of the common-place sarcasms levelled at
+them, by men who do not allow them to have minds, because mind would be
+an impediment to gross enjoyment. Men who are inferior to their fellow
+men, are always most anxious to establish their superiority over women.
+But where are these reflections leading me?
+
+"Women who have lost their husband's affection, are justly reproved for
+neglecting their persons, and not taking the same pains to keep, as to
+gain a heart; but who thinks of giving the same advice to men, though
+women are continually stigmatized for being attached to fops; and from
+the nature of their education, are more susceptible of disgust? Yet why a
+woman should be expected to endure a sloven, with more patience than a
+man, and magnanimously to govern herself, I cannot conceive; unless it be
+supposed arrogant in her to look for respect as well as a maintenance. It
+is not easy to be pleased, because, after promising to love, in different
+circumstances, we are told that it is our duty. I cannot, I am sure
+(though, when attending the sick, I never felt disgust) forget my own
+sensations, when rising with health and spirit, and after scenting the
+sweet morning, I have met my husband at the breakfast table. The active
+attention I had been giving to domestic regulations, which were generally
+settled before he rose, or a walk, gave a glow to my countenance, that
+contrasted with his squallid appearance. The squeamishness of stomach
+alone, produced by the last night's intemperance, which he took no pains
+to conceal, destroyed my appetite. I think I now see him lolling in an
+arm-chair, in a dirty powdering gown, soiled linen, ungartered stockings,
+and tangled hair, yawning and stretching himself. The newspaper was
+immediately called for, if not brought in on the tea-board, from which he
+would scarcely lift his eyes while I poured out the tea, excepting to ask
+for some brandy to put into it, or to declare that he could not eat. In
+answer to any question, in his best humour, it was a drawling 'What do
+you say, child?' But if I demanded money for the house expences, which I
+put off till the last moment, his customary reply, often prefaced with an
+oath, was, 'Do you think me, madam, made of money?'--The butcher, the
+baker, must wait; and, what was worse, I was often obliged to witness
+his surly dismission of tradesmen, who were in want of their money, and
+whom I sometimes paid with the presents my uncle gave me for my own use.
+
+"At this juncture my father's mistress, by terrifying his conscience,
+prevailed on him to marry her; he was already become a methodist; and my
+brother, who now practised for himself, had discovered a flaw in the
+settlement made on my mother's children, which set it aside, and he
+allowed my father, whose distress made him submit to any thing, a tithe
+of his own, or rather our fortune.
+
+"My sisters had left school, but were unable to endure home, which my
+father's wife rendered as disagreeable as possible, to get rid of girls
+whom she regarded as spies on her conduct. They were accomplished, yet
+you can (may you never be reduced to the same destitute state!) scarcely
+conceive the trouble I had to place them in the situation of governesses,
+the only one in which even a well-educated woman, with more than ordinary
+talents, can struggle for a subsistence; and even this is a dependence
+next to menial. Is it then surprising, that so many forlorn women, with
+human passions and feelings, take refuge in infamy? Alone in large
+mansions, I say alone, because they had no companions with whom they
+could converse on equal terms, or from whom they could expect the
+endearments of affection, they grew melancholy, and the sound of joy made
+them sad; and the youngest, having a more delicate frame, fell into a
+decline. It was with great difficulty that I, who now almost supported
+the house by loans from my uncle, could prevail on the _master_ of it, to
+allow her a room to die in. I watched her sick bed for some months, and
+then closed her eyes, gentle spirit! for ever. She was pretty, with very
+engaging manners; yet had never an opportunity to marry, excepting to a
+very old man. She had abilities sufficient to have shone in any
+profession, had there been any professions for women, though she shrunk
+at the name of milliner or mantua-maker as degrading to a gentlewoman. I
+would not term this feeling false pride to any one but you, my child,
+whom I fondly hope to see (yes; I will indulge the hope for a moment!)
+possessed of that energy of character which gives dignity to any station;
+and with that clear, firm spirit that will enable you to choose a
+situation for yourself, or submit to be classed in the lowest, if it be
+the only one in which you can be the mistress of your own actions.
+
+"Soon after the death of my sister, an incident occurred, to prove to me
+that the heart of a libertine is dead to natural affection; and to
+convince me, that the being who has appeared all tenderness, to gratify a
+selfish passion, is as regardless of the innocent fruit of it, as of the
+object, when the fit is over. I had casually observed an old,
+mean-looking woman, who called on my husband every two or three months to
+receive some money. One day entering the passage of his little
+counting-house, as she was going out, I heard her say, 'The child is very
+weak; she cannot live long, she will soon die out of your way, so you
+need not grudge her a little physic.'
+
+"'So much the better,' he replied, 'and pray mind your own business, good
+woman.'
+
+"I was struck by his unfeeling, inhuman tone of voice, and drew back,
+determined when the woman came again, to try to speak to her, not out of
+curiosity, I had heard enough, but with the hope of being useful to a
+poor, outcast girl.
+
+"A month or two elapsed before I saw this woman again; and then she had a
+child in her hand that tottered along, scarcely able to sustain her own
+weight. They were going away, to return at the hour Mr. Venables was
+expected; he was now from home. I desired the woman to walk into the
+parlour. She hesitated, yet obeyed. I assured her that I should not
+mention to my husband (the word seemed to weigh on my respiration), that
+I had seen her, or his child. The woman stared at me with astonishment;
+and I turned my eyes on the squalid object [that accompanied her.] She
+could hardly support herself, her complexion was sallow, and her eyes
+inflamed, with an indescribable look of cunning, mixed with the wrinkles
+produced by the peevishness of pain.
+
+"'Poor child!' I exclaimed. 'Ah! you may well say poor child,' replied
+the woman. 'I brought her here to see whether he would have the heart to
+look at her, and not get some advice. I do not know what they deserve who
+nursed her. Why, her legs bent under her like a bow when she came to me,
+and she has never been well since; but, if they were no better paid than
+I am, it is not to be wondered at, sure enough.'
+
+"On further enquiry I was informed, that this miserable spectacle was the
+daughter of a servant, a country girl, who caught Mr. Venables' eye, and
+whom he seduced. On his marriage he sent her away, her situation being
+too visible. After her delivery, she was thrown on the town; and died in
+an hospital within the year. The babe was sent to a parish-nurse, and
+afterwards to this woman, who did not seem much better; but what was to
+be expected from such a close bargain? She was only paid three shillings
+a week for board and washing.
+
+"The woman begged me to give her some old clothes for the child, assuring
+me, that she was almost afraid to ask master for money to buy even a
+pair of shoes.
+
+"I grew sick at heart. And, fearing Mr. Venables might enter, and oblige
+me to express my abhorrence, I hastily enquired where she lived, promised
+to pay her two shillings a week more, and to call on her in a day or two;
+putting a trifle into her hand as a proof of my good intention.
+
+"If the state of this child affected me, what were my feelings at a
+discovery I made respecting Peggy----?[22-A]
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[22-A] The manuscript is imperfect here. An episode seems to have been
+intended, which was never committed to paper.
+
+EDITOR.
+
+
+
+
+CHAP. X.
+
+
+"MY father's situation was now so distressing, that I prevailed on my
+uncle to accompany me to visit him; and to lend me his assistance, to
+prevent the whole property of the family from becoming the prey of my
+brother's rapacity; for, to extricate himself out of present
+difficulties, my father was totally regardless of futurity. I took down
+with me some presents for my step-mother; it did not require an effort
+for me to treat her with civility, or to forget the past.
+
+"This was the first time I had visited my native village, since my
+marriage. But with what different emotions did I return from the busy
+world, with a heavy weight of experience benumbing my imagination, to
+scenes, that whispered recollections of joy and hope most eloquently to
+my heart! The first scent of the wild flowers from the heath, thrilled
+through my veins, awakening every sense to pleasure. The icy hand of
+despair seemed to be removed from my bosom; and--forgetting my
+husband--the nurtured visions of a romantic mind, bursting on me with all
+their original wildness and gay exuberance, were again hailed as sweet
+realities. I forgot, with equal facility, that I ever felt sorrow, or
+knew care in the country; while a transient rainbow stole athwart the
+cloudy sky of despondency. The picturesque form of several favourite
+trees, and the porches of rude cottages, with their smiling hedges, were
+recognized with the gladsome playfulness of childish vivacity. I could
+have kissed the chickens that pecked on the common; and longed to pat the
+cows, and frolic with the dogs that sported on it. I gazed with delight
+on the windmill, and thought it lucky that it should be in motion, at the
+moment I passed by; and entering the dear green lane, which led directly
+to the village, the sound of the well-known rookery gave that sentimental
+tinge to the varying sensations of my active soul, which only served to
+heighten the lustre of the luxuriant scenery. But, spying, as I advanced,
+the spire, peeping over the withered tops of the aged elms that composed
+the rookery, my thoughts flew immediately to the church-yard, and tears
+of affection, such was the effect of my imagination, bedewed my mother's
+grave! Sorrow gave place to devotional feelings. I wandered through the
+church in fancy, as I used sometimes to do on a Saturday evening. I
+recollected with what fervour I addressed the God of my youth: and once
+more with rapturous love looked above my sorrows to the Father of nature.
+I pause--feeling forcibly all the emotions I am describing; and
+(reminded, as I register my sorrows, of the sublime calm I have felt,
+when in some tremendous solitude, my soul rested on itself, and seemed to
+fill the universe) I insensibly breathe soft, hushing every wayward
+emotion, as if fearing to sully with a sigh, a contentment so extatic.
+
+"Having settled my father's affairs, and, by my exertions in his favour,
+made my brother my sworn foe, I returned to London. My husband's conduct
+was now changed; I had during my absence, received several affectionate,
+penitential letters from him; and he seemed on my arrival, to wish by his
+behaviour to prove his sincerity. I could not then conceive why he acted
+thus; and, when the suspicion darted into my head, that it might arise
+from observing my increasing influence with my uncle, I almost despised
+myself for imagining that such a degree of debasing selfishness could
+exist.
+
+"He became, unaccountable as was the change, tender and attentive; and,
+attacking my weak side, made a confession of his follies, and lamented
+the embarrassments in which I, who merited a far different fate, might be
+involved. He besought me to aid him with my counsel, praised my
+understanding, and appealed to the tenderness of my heart.
+
+"This conduct only inspired me with compassion. I wished to be his
+friend; but love had spread his rosy pinions, and fled far, far away; and
+had not (like some exquisite perfumes, the fine spirit of which is
+continually mingling with the air) left a fragrance behind, to mark where
+he had shook his wings. My husband's renewed caresses then became hateful
+to me; his brutality was tolerable, compared to his distasteful fondness.
+Still, compassion, and the fear of insulting his supposed feelings, by a
+want of sympathy, made me dissemble, and do violence to my delicacy. What
+a task!
+
+"Those who support a system of what I term false refinement, and will
+not allow great part of love in the female, as well as male breast, to
+spring in some respects involuntarily, may not admit that charms are as
+necessary to feed the passion, as virtues to convert the mellowing spirit
+into friendship. To such observers I have nothing to say, any more than
+to the moralists, who insist that women ought to, and can love their
+husbands, because it is their duty. To you, my child, I may add, with a
+heart tremblingly alive to your future conduct, some observations,
+dictated by my present feelings, on calmly reviewing this period of my
+life. When novelists or moralists praise as a virtue, a woman's coldness
+of constitution, and want of passion; and make her yield to the ardour of
+her lover out of sheer compassion, or to promote a frigid plan of future
+comfort, I am disgusted. They may be good women, in the ordinary
+acceptation of the phrase, and do no harm; but they appear to me not to
+have those 'finely fashioned nerves,' which render the senses exquisite.
+They may possess tenderness; but they want that fire of the imagination,
+which produces _active_ sensibility, and _positive_ virtue. How does the
+woman deserve to be characterized, who marries one man, with a heart and
+imagination devoted to another? Is she not an object of pity or contempt,
+when thus sacrilegiously violating the purity of her own feelings? Nay,
+it is as indelicate, when she is indifferent, unless she be
+constitutionally insensible; then indeed it is a mere affair of barter;
+and I have nothing to do with the secrets of trade. Yes; eagerly as I
+wish you to possess true rectitude of mind, and purity of affection, I
+must insist that a heartless conduct is the contrary of virtuous. Truth
+is the only basis of virtue; and we cannot, without depraving our minds,
+endeavour to please a lover or husband, but in proportion as he pleases
+us. Men, more effectually to enslave us, may inculcate this partial
+morality, and lose sight of virtue in subdividing it into the duties of
+particular stations; but let us not blush for nature without a cause!
+
+"After these remarks, I am ashamed to own, that I was pregnant. The
+greatest sacrifice of my principles in my whole life, was the allowing my
+husband again to be familiar with my person, though to this cruel act of
+self-denial, when I wished the earth to open and swallow me, you owe your
+birth; and I the unutterable pleasure of being a mother. There was
+something of delicacy in my husband's bridal attentions; but now his
+tainted breath, pimpled face, and blood-shot eyes, were not more
+repugnant to my senses, than his gross manners, and loveless familiarity
+to my taste.
+
+"A man would only be expected to maintain; yes, barely grant a
+subsistence, to a woman rendered odious by habitual intoxication; but who
+would expect him, or think it possible to love her? And unless 'youth,
+and genial years were flown,' it would be thought equally unreasonable to
+insist, [under penalty of] forfeiting almost every thing reckoned
+valuable in life, that he should not love another: whilst woman, weak in
+reason, impotent in will, is required to moralize, sentimentalize herself
+to stone, and pine her life away, labouring to reform her embruted mate.
+He may even spend in dissipation, and intemperance, the very intemperance
+which renders him so hateful, her property, and by stinting her expences,
+not permit her to beguile in society, a wearisome, joyless life; for over
+their mutual fortune she has no power, it must all pass through his hand.
+And if she be a mother, and in the present state of women, it is a great
+misfortune to be prevented from discharging the duties, and cultivating
+the affections of one, what has she not to endure?--But I have suffered
+the tenderness of one to lead me into reflections that I did not think of
+making, to interrupt my narrative--yet the full heart will overflow.
+
+"Mr. Venables' embarrassments did not now endear him to me; still,
+anxious to befriend him, I endeavoured to prevail on him to retrench his
+expences; but he had always some plausible excuse to give, to justify his
+not following my advice. Humanity, compassion, and the interest produced
+by a habit of living together, made me try to relieve, and sympathize
+with him; but, when I recollected that I was bound to live with such a
+being for ever--my heart died within me; my desire of improvement became
+languid, and baleful, corroding melancholy took possession of my soul.
+Marriage had bastilled me for life. I discovered in myself a capacity for
+the enjoyment of the various pleasures existence affords; yet, fettered
+by the partial laws of society, this fair globe was to me an universal
+blank.
+
+"When I exhorted my husband to economy, I referred to himself. I was
+obliged to practise the most rigid, or contract debts, which I had too
+much reason to fear would never be paid. I despised this paltry privilege
+of a wife, which can only be of use to the vicious or inconsiderate, and
+determined not to increase the torrent that was bearing him down. I was
+then ignorant of the extent of his fraudulent speculations, whom I was
+bound to honour and obey.
+
+"A woman neglected by her husband, or whose manners form a striking
+contrast with his, will always have men on the watch to soothe and
+flatter her. Besides, the forlorn state of a neglected woman, not
+destitute of personal charms, is particularly interesting, and rouses
+that species of pity, which is so near akin, it easily slides into love.
+A man of feeling thinks not of seducing, he is himself seduced by all the
+noblest emotions of his soul. He figures to himself all the sacrifices a
+woman of sensibility must make, and every situation in which his
+imagination places her, touches his heart, and fires his passions.
+Longing to take to his bosom the shorn lamb, and bid the drooping buds of
+hope revive, benevolence changes into passion: and should he then
+discover that he is beloved, honour binds him fast, though foreseeing
+that he may afterwards be obliged to pay severe damages to the man, who
+never appeared to value his wife's society, till he found that there was
+a chance of his being indemnified for the loss of it.
+
+"Such are the partial laws enacted by men; for, only to lay a stress on
+the dependent state of a woman in the grand question of the comforts
+arising from the possession of property, she is [even in this article]
+much more injured by the loss of the husband's affection, than he by that
+of his wife; yet where is she, condemned to the solitude of a deserted
+home, to look for a compensation from the woman, who seduces him from
+her? She cannot drive an unfaithful husband from his house, nor separate,
+or tear, his children from him, however culpable he may be; and he, still
+the master of his own fate, enjoys the smiles of a world, that would
+brand her with infamy, did she, seeking consolation, venture to
+retaliate.
+
+"These remarks are not dictated by experience; but merely by the
+compassion I feel for many amiable women, the _out-laws_ of the world.
+For myself, never encouraging any of the advances that were made to me,
+my lovers dropped off like the untimely shoots of spring. I did not even
+coquet with them; because I found, on examining myself, I could not
+coquet with a man without loving him a little; and I perceived that I
+should not be able to stop at the line of what are termed _innocent
+freedoms_, did I suffer any. My reserve was then the consequence of
+delicacy. Freedom of conduct has emancipated many women's minds; but my
+conduct has most rigidly been governed by my principles, till the
+improvement of my understanding has enabled me to discern the fallacy of
+prejudices at war with nature and reason.
+
+"Shortly after the change I have mentioned in my husband's conduct, my
+uncle was compelled by his declining health, to seek the succour of a
+milder climate, and embark for Lisbon. He left his will in the hands of a
+friend, an eminent solicitor; he had previously questioned me relative to
+my situation and state of mind, and declared very freely, that he could
+place no reliance on the stability of my husband's professions. He had
+been deceived in the unfolding of his character; he now thought it fixed
+in a train of actions that would inevitably lead to ruin and disgrace.
+
+"The evening before his departure, which we spent alone together, he
+folded me to his heart, uttering the endearing appellation of
+'child.'--My more than father! why was I not permitted to perform the
+last duties of one, and smooth the pillow of death? He seemed by his
+manner to be convinced that he should never see me more; yet requested
+me, most earnestly, to come to him, should I be obliged to leave my
+husband. He had before expressed his sorrow at hearing of my pregnancy,
+having determined to prevail on me to accompany him, till I informed him
+of that circumstance. He expressed himself unfeignedly sorry that any new
+tie should bind me to a man whom he thought so incapable of estimating my
+value; such was the kind language of affection.
+
+"I must repeat his own words; they made an indelible impression on my
+mind:
+
+"'The marriage state is certainly that in which women, generally
+speaking, can be most useful; but I am far from thinking that a woman,
+once married, ought to consider the engagement as indissoluble
+(especially if there be no children to reward her for sacrificing her
+feelings) in case her husband merits neither her love, nor esteem. Esteem
+will often supply the place of love; and prevent a woman from being
+wretched, though it may not make her happy. The magnitude of a sacrifice
+ought always to bear some proportion to the utility in view; and for a
+woman to live with a man, for whom she can cherish neither affection nor
+esteem, or even be of any use to him, excepting in the light of a
+house-keeper, is an abjectness of condition, the enduring of which no
+concurrence of circumstances can ever make a duty in the sight of God or
+just men. If indeed she submits to it merely to be maintained in
+idleness, she has no right to complain bitterly of her fate; or to act,
+as a person of independent character might, as if she had a title to
+disregard general rules.
+
+"'But the misfortune is, that many women only submit in appearance, and
+forfeit their own respect to secure their reputation in the world. The
+situation of a woman separated from her husband, is undoubtedly very
+different from that of a man who has left his wife. He, with lordly
+dignity, has shaken of a clog; and the allowing her food and raiment, is
+thought sufficient to secure his reputation from taint. And, should she
+have been inconsiderate, he will be celebrated for his generosity and
+forbearance. Such is the respect paid to the master-key of property! A
+woman, on the contrary, resigning what is termed her natural protector
+(though he never was so, but in name) is despised and shunned, for
+asserting the independence of mind distinctive of a rational being, and
+spurning at slavery.'
+
+"During the remainder of the evening, my uncle's tenderness led him
+frequently to revert to the subject, and utter, with increasing warmth,
+sentiments to the same purport. At length it was necessary to say
+'Farewell!'--and we parted--gracious God! to meet no more.
+
+
+
+
+CHAP. XI.
+
+
+"A GENTLEMAN of large fortune and of polished manners, had lately visited
+very frequently at our house, and treated me, if possible, with more
+respect than Mr. Venables paid him; my pregnancy was not yet visible, his
+society was a great relief to me, as I had for some time past, to avoid
+expence, confined myself very much at home. I ever disdained unnecessary,
+perhaps even prudent concealments; and my husband, with great ease,
+discovered the amount of my uncle's parting present. A copy of a writ was
+the stale pretext to extort it from me; and I had soon reason to believe
+that it was fabricated for the purpose. I acknowledge my folly in thus
+suffering myself to be continually imposed on. I had adhered to my
+resolution not to apply to my uncle, on the part of my husband, any more;
+yet, when I had received a sum sufficient to supply my own wants, and to
+enable me to pursue a plan I had in view, to settle my younger brother in
+a respectable employment, I allowed myself to be duped by Mr. Venables'
+shallow pretences, and hypocritical professions.
+
+"Thus did he pillage me and my family, thus frustrate all my plans of
+usefulness. Yet this was the man I was bound to respect and esteem: as if
+respect and esteem depended on an arbitrary will of our own! But a wife
+being as much a man's property as his horse, or his ass, she has nothing
+she can call her own. He may use any means to get at what the law
+considers as his, the moment his wife is in possession of it, even to the
+forcing of a lock, as Mr. Venables did, to search for notes in my
+writing-desk--and all this is done with a show of equity, because,
+forsooth, he is responsible for her maintenance.
+
+"The tender mother cannot _lawfully_ snatch from the gripe of the
+gambling spendthrift, or beastly drunkard, unmindful of his offspring,
+the fortune which falls to her by chance; or (so flagrant is the
+injustice) what she earns by her own exertions. No; he can rob her with
+impunity, even to waste publicly on a courtezan; and the laws of her
+country--if women have a country--afford her no protection or redress
+from the oppressor, unless she have the plea of bodily fear; yet how
+many ways are there of goading the soul almost to madness, equally
+unmanly, though not so mean? When such laws were framed, should not
+impartial lawgivers have first decreed, in the style of a great assembly,
+who recognized the existence of an _être suprême_, to fix the national
+belief, that the husband should always be wiser and more virtuous than
+his wife, in order to entitle him, with a show of justice, to keep this
+idiot, or perpetual minor, for ever in bondage. But I must have done--on
+this subject, my indignation continually runs away with me.
+
+"The company of the gentleman I have already mentioned, who had a general
+acquaintance with literature and subjects of taste, was grateful to me;
+my countenance brightened up as he approached, and I unaffectedly
+expressed the pleasure I felt. The amusement his conversation afforded
+me, made it easy to comply with my husband's request, to endeavour to
+render our house agreeable to him.
+
+"His attentions became more pointed; but, as I was not of the number of
+women, whose virtue, as it is termed, immediately takes alarm, I
+endeavoured, rather by raillery than serious expostulation, to give a
+different turn to his conversation. He assumed a new mode of attack, and
+I was, for a while, the dupe of his pretended friendship.
+
+"I had, merely in the style of _badinage_, boasted of my conquest, and
+repeated his lover-like compliments to my husband. But he begged me, for
+God's sake, not to affront his friend, or I should destroy all his
+projects, and be his ruin. Had I had more affection for my husband, I
+should have expressed my contempt of this time-serving politeness: now I
+imagined that I only felt pity; yet it would have puzzled a casuist to
+point out in what the exact difference consisted.
+
+"This friend began now, in confidence, to discover to me the real state
+of my husband's affairs. 'Necessity,' said Mr. S----; why should I reveal
+his name? for he affected to palliate the conduct he could not excuse,
+'had led him to take such steps, by accommodation bills, buying goods on
+credit, to sell them for ready money, and similar transactions, that his
+character in the commercial world was gone. He was considered,' he added,
+lowering his voice, 'on 'Change as a swindler.'
+
+"I felt at that moment the first maternal pang. Aware of the evils my sex
+have to struggle with, I still wished, for my own consolation, to be the
+mother of a daughter; and I could not bear to think, that the _sins_ of
+her father's entailed disgrace, should be added to the ills to which
+woman is heir.
+
+"So completely was I deceived by these shows of friendship (nay, I
+believe, according to his interpretation, Mr. S--really was my friend)
+that I began to consult him respecting the best mode of retrieving my
+husband's character: it is the good name of a woman only that sets to
+rise no more. I knew not that he had been drawn into a whirlpool, out of
+which he had not the energy to attempt to escape. He seemed indeed
+destitute of the power of employing his faculties in any regular
+pursuit. His principles of action were so loose, and his mind so
+uncultivated, that every thing like order appeared to him in the shape of
+restraint; and, like men in the savage state, he required the strong
+stimulus of hope or fear, produced by wild speculations, in which the
+interests of others went for nothing, to keep his spirits awake. He one
+time possessed patriotism, but he knew not what it was to feel honest
+indignation; and pretended to be an advocate for liberty, when, with as
+little affection for the human race as for individuals, he thought of
+nothing but his own gratification. He was just such a citizen, as a
+father. The sums he adroitly obtained by a violation of the laws of his
+country, as well as those of humanity, he would allow a mistress to
+squander; though she was, with the same _sang froid_, consigned, as were
+his children, to poverty, when another proved more attractive.
+
+"On various pretences, his friend continued to visit me; and, observing
+my want of money, he tried to induce me to accept of pecuniary aid; but
+this offer I absolutely rejected, though it was made with such delicacy,
+I could not be displeased.
+
+"One day he came, as I thought accidentally, to dinner. My husband was
+very much engaged in business, and quitted the room soon after the cloth
+was removed. We conversed as usual, till confidential advice led again to
+love. I was extremely mortified. I had a sincere regard for him, and
+hoped that he had an equal friendship for me. I therefore began mildly to
+expostulate with him. This gentleness he mistook for coy encouragement;
+and he would not be diverted from the subject. Perceiving his mistake, I
+seriously asked him how, using such language to me, he could profess to
+be my husband's friend? A significant sneer excited my curiosity, and he,
+supposing this to be my only scruple, took a letter deliberately out of
+his pocket, saying, 'Your husband's honour is not inflexible. How could
+you, with your discernment, think it so? Why, he left the room this very
+day on purpose to give me an opportunity to explain myself; _he_ thought
+me too timid--too tardy.'
+
+"I snatched the letter with indescribable emotion. The purport of it was
+to invite him to dinner, and to ridicule his chivalrous respect for me.
+He assured him, 'that every woman had her price, and, with gross
+indecency, hinted, that he should be glad to have the duty of a husband
+taken off his hands. These he termed _liberal sentiments_. He advised him
+not to shock my romantic notions, but to attack my credulous generosity,
+and weak pity; and concluded with requesting him to lend him five hundred
+pounds for a month or six weeks.' I read this letter twice over; and the
+firm purpose it inspired, calmed the rising tumult of my soul. I rose
+deliberately, requested Mr. S---- to wait a moment, and instantly going
+into the counting-house, desired Mr. Venables to return with me to the
+dining-parlour.
+
+"He laid down his pen, and entered with me, without observing any change
+in my countenance. I shut the door, and, giving him the letter, simply
+asked, 'whether he wrote it, or was it a forgery?'
+
+"Nothing could equal his confusion. His friend's eye met his, and he
+muttered something about a joke--But I interrupted him--'It is
+sufficient--We part for ever.'
+
+"I continued, with solemnity, 'I have borne with your tyranny and
+infidelities. I disdain to utter what I have borne with. I thought you
+unprincipled, but not so decidedly vicious. I formed a tie, in the sight
+of heaven--I have held it sacred; even when men, more conformable to my
+taste, have made me feel--I despise all subterfuge!--that I was not dead
+to love. Neglected by you, I have resolutely stifled the enticing
+emotions, and respected the plighted faith you outraged. And you dare now
+to insult me, by selling me to prostitution!--Yes--equally lost to
+delicacy and principle--you dared sacrilegiously to barter the honour of
+the mother of your child.'
+
+"Then, turning to Mr. S----, I added, 'I call on you, Sir, to witness,'
+and I lifted my hands and eyes to heaven, 'that, as solemnly as I took
+his name, I now abjure it,' I pulled off my ring, and put it on the
+table; 'and that I mean immediately to quit his house, never to enter it
+more. I will provide for myself and child. I leave him as free as I am
+determined to be myself--he shall be answerable for no debts of mine.'
+
+"Astonishment closed their lips, till Mr. Venables, gently pushing his
+friend, with a forced smile, out of the room, nature for a moment
+prevailed, and, appearing like himself, he turned round, burning with
+rage, to me: but there was no terror in the frown, excepting when
+contrasted with the malignant smile which preceded it. He bade me 'leave
+the house at my peril; told me he despised my threats; I had no resource;
+I could not swear the peace against him!--I was not afraid of my
+life!--he had never struck me!'
+
+"He threw the letter in the fire, which I had incautiously left in his
+hands; and, quitting the room, locked the door on me.
+
+"When left alone, I was a moment or two before I could recollect myself.
+One scene had succeeded another with such rapidity, I almost doubted
+whether I was reflecting on a real event. 'Was it possible? Was I,
+indeed, free?'--Yes; free I termed myself, when I decidedly perceived
+the conduct I ought to adopt. How had I panted for liberty--liberty, that
+I would have purchased at any price, but that of my own esteem! I rose,
+and shook myself; opened the window, and methought the air never smelled
+so sweet. The face of heaven grew fairer as I viewed it, and the clouds
+seemed to flit away obedient to my wishes, to give my soul room to
+expand. I was all soul, and (wild as it may appear) felt as if I could
+have dissolved in the soft balmy gale that kissed my cheek, or have
+glided below the horizon on the glowing, descending beams. A seraphic
+satisfaction animated, without agitating my spirits; and my imagination
+collected, in visions sublimely terrible, or soothingly beautiful, an
+immense variety of the endless images, which nature affords, and fancy
+combines, of the grand and fair. The lustre of these bright picturesque
+sketches faded with the setting sun; but I was still alive to the calm
+delight they had diffused through my heart.
+
+"There may be advocates for matrimonial obedience, who, making a
+distinction between the duty of a wife and of a human being, may blame my
+conduct.--To them I write not--my feelings are not for them to analyze;
+and may you, my child, never be able to ascertain, by heart-rending
+experience, what your mother felt before the present emancipation of her
+mind!
+
+"I began to write a letter to my father, after closing one to my uncle;
+not to ask advice, but to signify my determination; when I was
+interrupted by the entrance of Mr. Venables. His manner was changed. His
+views on my uncle's fortune made him averse to my quitting his house, or
+he would, I am convinced, have been glad to have shaken off even the
+slight restraint my presence imposed on him; the restraint of showing me
+some respect. So far from having an affection for me, he really hated me,
+because he was convinced that I must despise him.
+
+"He told me, that, 'As I now had had time to cool and reflect, he did not
+doubt but that my prudence, and nice sense of propriety, would lead me to
+overlook what was passed.'
+
+"'Reflection,' I replied, 'had only confirmed my purpose, and no power on
+earth could divert me from it.'
+
+"Endeavouring to assume a soothing voice and look, when he would
+willingly have tortured me, to force me to feel his power, his
+countenance had an infernal expression, when he desired me, 'Not to
+expose myself to the servants, by obliging him to confine me in my
+apartment; if then I would give my promise not to quit the house
+precipitately, I should be free--and--.' I declared, interrupting him,
+'that I would promise nothing. I had no measures to keep with him--I was
+resolved, and would not condescend to subterfuge.'
+
+"He muttered, 'that I should soon repent of these preposterous airs;'
+and, ordering tea to be carried into my little study, which had a
+communication with my bed-chamber, he once more locked the door upon me,
+and left me to my own meditations. I had passively followed him up
+stairs, not wishing to fatigue myself with unavailing exertion.
+
+"Nothing calms the mind like a fixed purpose. I felt as if I had heaved
+a thousand weight from my heart; the atmosphere seemed lightened; and, if
+I execrated the institutions of society, which thus enable men to
+tyrannize over women, it was almost a disinterested sentiment. I
+disregarded present inconveniences, when my mind had done struggling with
+itself,--when reason and inclination had shaken hands and were at peace.
+I had no longer the cruel task before me, in endless perspective, aye,
+during the tedious for ever of life, of labouring to overcome my
+repugnance--of labouring to extinguish the hopes, the maybes of a lively
+imagination. Death I had hailed as my only chance for deliverance; but,
+while existence had still so many charms, and life promised happiness, I
+shrunk from the icy arms of an unknown tyrant, though far more inviting
+than those of the man, to whom I supposed myself bound without any other
+alternative; and was content to linger a little longer, waiting for I
+knew not what, rather than leave 'the warm precincts of the cheerful
+day,' and all the unenjoyed affection of my nature.
+
+"My present situation gave a new turn to my reflection; and I wondered
+(now the film seemed to be withdrawn, that obscured the piercing sight of
+reason) how I could, previously to the deciding outrage, have considered
+myself as everlastingly united to vice and folly? 'Had an evil genius
+cast a spell at my birth; or a demon stalked out of chaos, to perplex my
+understanding, and enchain my will, with delusive prejudices?'
+
+"I pursued this train of thinking; it led me out of myself, to expatiate
+on the misery peculiar to my sex. 'Are not,' I thought, 'the despots for
+ever stigmatized, who, in the wantonness of power, commanded even the
+most atrocious criminals to be chained to dead bodies? though surely
+those laws are much more inhuman, which forge adamantine fetters to bind
+minds together, that never can mingle in social communion! What indeed
+can equal the wretchedness of that state, in which there is no
+alternative, but to extinguish the affections, or encounter infamy?'
+
+
+
+
+CHAP. XII.
+
+
+"TOWARDS midnight Mr. Venables entered my chamber; and, with calm
+audacity preparing to go to bed, he bade me make haste, 'for that was the
+best place for husbands and wives to end their differences. He had been
+drinking plentifully to aid his courage.
+
+"I did not at first deign to reply. But perceiving that he affected to
+take my silence for consent, I told him that, 'If he would not go to
+another bed, or allow me, I should sit up in my study all night.' He
+attempted to pull me into the chamber, half joking. But I resisted; and,
+as he had determined not to give me any reason for saying that he used
+violence, after a few more efforts, he retired, cursing my obstinacy, to
+bed.
+
+"I sat musing some time longer; then, throwing my cloak around me,
+prepared for sleep on a sopha. And, so fortunate seemed my deliverance,
+so sacred the pleasure of being thus wrapped up in myself, that I slept
+profoundly, and woke with a mind composed to encounter the struggles of
+the day. Mr. Venables did not wake till some hours after; and then he
+came to me half-dressed, yawning and stretching, with haggard eyes, as if
+he scarcely recollected what had passed the preceding evening. He fixed
+his eyes on me for a moment, then, calling me a fool, asked 'How long I
+intended to continue this pretty farce? For his part, he was devilish
+sick of it; but this was the plague of marrying women who pretended to
+know something.'
+
+"I made no other reply to this harangue, than to say, 'That he ought to
+be glad to get rid of a woman so unfit to be his companion--and that any
+change in my conduct would be mean dissimulation; for maturer reflection
+only gave the sacred seal of reason to my first resolution.'
+
+"He looked as if he could have stamped with impatience, at being obliged
+to stifle his rage; but, conquering his anger (for weak people, whose
+passions seem the most ungovernable, restrain them with the greatest
+ease, when they have a sufficient motive), he exclaimed, 'Very pretty,
+upon my soul! very pretty, theatrical flourishes! Pray, fair Roxana,
+stoop from your altitudes, and remember that you are acting a part in
+real life.'
+
+"He uttered this speech with a self-satisfied air, and went down stairs
+to dress.
+
+"In about an hour he came to me again; and in the same tone said, 'That
+he came as my gentleman-usher to hand me down to breakfast.
+
+"'Of the black rod?' asked I.
+
+"This question, and the tone in which I asked it, a little disconcerted
+him. To say the truth, I now felt no resentment; my firm resolution to
+free myself from my ignoble thraldom, had absorbed the various emotions
+which, during six years, had racked my soul. The duty pointed out by my
+principles seemed clear; and not one tender feeling intruded to make me
+swerve: The dislike which my husband had inspired was strong; but it only
+led me to wish to avoid, to wish to let him drop out of my memory; there
+was no misery, no torture that I would not deliberately have chosen,
+rather than renew my lease of servitude.
+
+"During the breakfast, he attempted to reason with me on the folly of
+romantic sentiments; for this was the indiscriminate epithet he gave to
+every mode of conduct or thinking superior to his own. He asserted, 'that
+all the world were governed by their own interest; those who pretended to
+be actuated by different motives, were only deeper knaves, or fools
+crazed by books, who took for gospel all the rodomantade nonsense written
+by men who knew nothing of the world. For his part, he thanked God, he
+was no hypocrite; and, if he stretched a point sometimes, it was always
+with an intention of paying every man his own.'
+
+"He then artfully insinuated, 'that he daily expected a vessel to
+arrive, a successful speculation, that would make him easy for the
+present, and that he had several other schemes actually depending, that
+could not fail. He had no doubt of becoming rich in a few years, though
+he had been thrown back by some unlucky adventures at the setting out.'
+
+"I mildly replied, 'That I wished he might not involve himself still
+deeper.'
+
+"He had no notion that I was governed by a decision of judgment, not to
+be compared with a mere spurt of resentment. He knew not what it was to
+feel indignation against vice, and often boasted of his placable temper,
+and readiness to forgive injuries. True; for he only considered the being
+deceived, as an effort of skill he had not guarded against; and then,
+with a cant of candour, would observe, 'that he did not know how he
+might himself have been tempted to act in the same circumstances.' And,
+as his heart never opened to friendship, it never was wounded by
+disappointment. Every new acquaintance he protested, it is true, was 'the
+cleverest fellow in the world;' and he really thought so; till the
+novelty of his conversation or manners ceased to have any effect on his
+sluggish spirits. His respect for rank or fortune was more permanent,
+though he chanced to have no design of availing himself of the influence
+of either to promote his own views.
+
+"After a prefatory conversation,--my blood (I thought it had been cooler)
+flushed over my whole countenance as he spoke--he alluded to my
+situation. He desired me to reflect--'and act like a prudent woman, as
+the best proof of my superior understanding; for he must own I had sense,
+did I know how to use it. I was not,' he laid a stress on his words,
+'without my passions; and a husband was a convenient cloke.--He was
+liberal in his way of thinking; and why might not we, like many other
+married people, who were above vulgar prejudices, tacitly consent to let
+each other follow their own inclination?--He meant nothing more, in the
+letter I made the ground of complaint; and the pleasure which I seemed to
+take in Mr. S.'s company, led him to conclude, that he was not
+disagreeable to me.'
+
+"A clerk brought in the letters of the day, and I, as I often did, while
+he was discussing subjects of business, went to the _piano forte_, and
+began to play a favourite air to restore myself, as it were, to nature,
+and drive the sophisticated sentiments I had just been obliged to listen
+to, out of my soul.
+
+"They had excited sensations similar to those I have felt, in viewing the
+squalid inhabitants of some of the lanes and back streets of the
+metropolis, mortified at being compelled to consider them as my
+fellow-creatures, as if an ape had claimed kindred with me. Or, as when
+surrounded by a mephitical fog, I have wished to have a volley of cannon
+fired, to clear the incumbered atmosphere, and give me room to breathe
+and move.
+
+"My spirits were all in arms, and I played a kind of extemporary prelude.
+The cadence was probably wild and impassioned, while, lost in thought, I
+made the sounds a kind of echo to my train of thinking.
+
+"Pausing for a moment, I met Mr. Venables' eyes. He was observing me with
+an air of conceited satisfaction, as much as to say--'My last insinuation
+has done the business--she begins to know her own interest.' Then
+gathering up his letters, he said, 'That he hoped he should hear no more
+romantic stuff, well enough in a miss just come from boarding school;'
+and went, as was his custom, to the counting-house. I still continued
+playing; and, turning to a sprightly lesson, I executed it with uncommon
+vivacity. I heard footsteps approach the door, and was soon convinced
+that Mr. Venables was listening; the consciousness only gave more
+animation to my fingers. He went down into the kitchen, and the cook,
+probably by his desire, came to me, to know what I would please to order
+for dinner. Mr. Venables came into the parlour again, with apparent
+carelessness. I perceived that the cunning man was over-reaching himself;
+and I gave my directions as usual, and left the room.
+
+"While I was making some alteration in my dress, Mr. Venables peeped in,
+and, begging my pardon for interrupting me, disappeared. I took up some
+work (I could not read), and two or three messages were sent to me,
+probably for no other purpose, but to enable Mr. Venables to ascertain
+what I was about.
+
+"I listened whenever I heard the street-door open; at last I imagined I
+could distinguish Mr. Venables' step, going out. I laid aside my work;
+my heart palpitated; still I was afraid hastily to enquire; and I waited
+a long half hour, before I ventured to ask the boy whether his master was
+in the counting-house?
+
+"Being answered in the negative, I bade him call me a coach, and
+collecting a few necessaries hastily together, with a little parcel of
+letters and papers which I had collected the preceding evening, I hurried
+into it, desiring the coachman to drive to a distant part of the town.
+
+"I almost feared that the coach would break down before I got out of the
+street; and, when I turned the corner, I seemed to breathe a freer air. I
+was ready to imagine that I was rising above the thick atmosphere of
+earth; or I felt, as wearied souls might be supposed to feel on entering
+another state of existence.
+
+"I stopped at one or two stands of coaches to elude pursuit, and then
+drove round the skirts of the town to seek for an obscure lodging, where
+I wished to remain concealed, till I could avail myself of my uncle's
+protection. I had resolved to assume my own name immediately, and openly
+to avow my determination, without any formal vindication, the moment I
+had found a home, in which I could rest free from the daily alarm of
+expecting to see Mr. Venables enter.
+
+"I looked at several lodgings; but finding that I could not, without a
+reference to some acquaintance, who might inform my tyrant, get
+admittance into a decent apartment--men have not all this trouble--I
+thought of a woman whom I had assisted to furnish a little haberdasher's
+shop, and who I knew had a first floor to let.
+
+"I went to her, and though I could not persuade her, that the quarrel
+between me and Mr. Venables would never be made up, still she agreed to
+conceal me for the present; yet assuring me at the same time, shaking her
+head, that, when a woman was once married, she must bear every thing. Her
+pale face, on which appeared a thousand haggard lines and delving
+wrinkles, produced by what is emphatically termed fretting, inforced her
+remark; and I had afterwards an opportunity of observing the treatment
+she had to endure, which grizzled her into patience. She toiled from
+morning till night; yet her husband would rob the till, and take away the
+money reserved for paying bills; and, returning home drunk, he would
+beat her if she chanced to offend him, though she had a child at the
+breast.
+
+"These scenes awoke me at night; and, in the morning, I heard her, as
+usual, talk to her dear Johnny--he, forsooth, was her master; no slave in
+the West Indies had one more despotic; but fortunately she was of the
+true Russian breed of wives.
+
+"My mind, during the few past days, seemed, as it were, disengaged from
+my body; but, now the struggle was over, I felt very forcibly the effect
+which perturbation of spirits produces on a woman in my situation.
+
+"The apprehension of a miscarriage, obliged me to confine myself to my
+apartment near a fortnight; but I wrote to my uncle's friend for money,
+promising 'to call on him, and explain my situation, when I was well
+enough to go out; mean time I earnestly intreated him, not to mention my
+place of abode to any one, lest my husband--such the law considered
+him--should disturb the mind he could not conquer. I mentioned my
+intention of setting out for Lisbon, to claim my uncle's protection, the
+moment my health would permit.'
+
+"The tranquillity however, which I was recovering, was soon interrupted.
+My landlady came up to me one day, with eyes swollen with weeping, unable
+to utter what she was commanded to say. She declared, 'That she was never
+so miserable in her life; that she must appear an ungrateful monster; and
+that she would readily go down on her knees to me, to intreat me to
+forgive her, as she had done to her husband to spare her the cruel task.'
+Sobs prevented her from proceeding, or answering my impatient enquiries,
+to know what she meant.
+
+"When she became a little more composed, she took a newspaper out of her
+pocket, declaring, 'that her heart smote her, but what could she do?--she
+must obey her husband.' I snatched the paper from her. An advertisement
+quickly met my eye, purporting, that 'Maria Venables had, without any
+assignable cause, absconded from her husband; and any person harbouring
+her, was menaced with the utmost severity of the law.'
+
+"Perfectly acquainted with Mr. Venables' meanness of soul, this step did
+not excite my surprise, and scarcely my contempt. Resentment in my
+breast, never survived love. I bade the poor woman, in a kind tone, wipe
+her eyes, and request her husband to come up, and speak to me himself.
+
+"My manner awed him. He respected a lady, though not a woman; and began
+to mutter out an apology.
+
+"'Mr. Venables was a rich gentleman; he wished to oblige me, but he had
+suffered enough by the law already, to tremble at the thought; besides,
+for certain, we should come together again, and then even I should not
+thank him for being accessary to keeping us asunder.--A husband and wife
+were, God knows, just as one,--and all would come round at last.' He
+uttered a drawling 'Hem!' and then with an arch look, added--'Master
+might have had his little frolics--but--Lord bless your heart!--men
+would be men while the world stands.'
+
+"To argue with this privileged first-born of reason, I perceived, would
+be vain. I therefore only requested him to let me remain another day at
+his house, while I sought for a lodging; and not to inform Mr. Venables
+that I had ever been sheltered there.
+
+"He consented, because he had not the courage to refuse a person for whom
+he had an habitual respect; but I heard the pent-up choler burst forth in
+curses, when he met his wife, who was waiting impatiently at the foot of
+the stairs, to know what effect my expostulations would have on him.
+
+"Without wasting any time in the fruitless indulgence of vexation, I once
+more set out in search of an abode in which I could hide myself for a
+few weeks.
+
+"Agreeing to pay an exorbitant price, I hired an apartment, without any
+reference being required relative to my character: indeed, a glance at my
+shape seemed to say, that my motive for concealment was sufficiently
+obvious. Thus was I obliged to shroud my head in infamy.
+
+"To avoid all danger of detection--I use the appropriate word, my child,
+for I was hunted out like a felon--I determined to take possession of my
+new lodgings that very evening.
+
+"I did not inform my landlady where I was going. I knew that she had a
+sincere affection for me, and would willingly have run any risk to show
+her gratitude; yet I was fully convinced, that a few kind words from
+Johnny would have found the woman in her, and her dear benefactress, as
+she termed me in an agony of tears, would have been sacrificed, to
+recompense her tyrant for condescending to treat her like an equal. He
+could be kind-hearted, as she expressed it, when he pleased. And this
+thawed sternness, contrasted with his habitual brutality, was the more
+acceptable, and could not be purchased at too dear a rate.
+
+"The sight of the advertisement made me desirous of taking refuge with my
+uncle, let what would be the consequence; and I repaired in a hackney
+coach (afraid of meeting some person who might chance to know me, had I
+walked) to the chambers of my uncle's friend.
+
+"He received me with great politeness (my uncle had already prepossessed
+him in my favour), and listened, with interest, to my explanation of the
+motives which had induced me to fly from home, and skulk in obscurity,
+with all the timidity of fear that ought only to be the companion of
+guilt. He lamented, with rather more gallantry than, in my situation, I
+thought delicate, that such a woman should be thrown away on a man
+insensible to the charms of beauty or grace. He seemed at a loss what to
+advise me to do, to evade my husband's search, without hastening to my
+uncle, whom, he hesitating said, I might not find alive. He uttered this
+intelligence with visible regret; requested me, at least, to wait for the
+arrival of the next packet; offered me what money I wanted, and promised
+to visit me.
+
+"He kept his word; still no letter arrived to put an end to my painful
+state of suspense. I procured some books and music, to beguile the
+tedious solitary days.
+
+    'Come, ever smiling Liberty,
+    'And with thee bring thy jocund train:'
+
+I sung--and sung till, saddened by the strain of joy, I bitterly lamented
+the fate that deprived me of all social pleasure. Comparative liberty
+indeed I had possessed myself of; but the jocund train lagged far
+behind!
+
+
+
+
+CHAP. XIII.
+
+
+"BY watching my only visitor, my uncle's friend, or by some other means,
+Mr. Venables discovered my residence, and came to enquire for me. The
+maid-servant assured him there was no such person in the house. A bustle
+ensued--I caught the alarm--listened--distinguished his voice, and
+immediately locked the door. They suddenly grew still; and I waited near
+a quarter of an hour, before I heard him open the parlour door, and mount
+the stairs with the mistress of the house, who obsequiously declared that
+she knew nothing of me.
+
+"Finding my door locked, she requested me to 'open it, and prepare to go
+home with my husband, poor gentleman! to whom I had already occasioned
+sufficient vexation.' I made no reply. Mr. Venables then, in an assumed
+tone of softness, intreated me, 'to consider what he suffered, and my own
+reputation, and get the better of childish resentment.' He ran on in the
+same strain, pretending to address me, but evidently adapting his
+discourse to the capacity of the landlady; who, at every pause, uttered
+an exclamation of pity; or 'Yes, to be sure--Very true, sir.'
+
+"Sick of the farce, and perceiving that I could not avoid the hated
+interview, I opened the door, and he entered. Advancing with easy
+assurance to take my hand, I shrunk from his touch, with an involuntary
+start, as I should have done from a noisome reptile, with more disgust
+than terror. His conductress was retiring, to give us, as she said, an
+opportunity to accommodate matters. But I bade her come in, or I would go
+out; and curiosity impelled her to obey me.
+
+"Mr. Venables began to expostulate; and this woman, proud of his
+confidence, to second him. But I calmly silenced her, in the midst of a
+vulgar harangue, and turning to him, asked, 'Why he vainly tormented me?
+declaring that no power on earth should force me back to his house.'
+
+"After a long altercation, the particulars of which, it would be to no
+purpose to repeat, he left the room. Some time was spent in loud
+conversation in the parlour below, and I discovered that he had brought
+his friend, an attorney, with him.
+
+                    *   *   *   *   *   *   *
+*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *
+*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *
+*   *
+
+The tumult on the landing place, brought out a gentleman, who had
+recently taken apartments in the house; he enquired why I was thus
+assailed[91-A]? The voluble attorney instantly repeated the trite tale.
+The stranger turned to me, observing, with the most soothing politeness
+and manly interest, that 'my countenance told a very different story.' He
+added, 'that I should not be insulted, or forced out of the house, by any
+body.'
+
+"'Not by her husband?' asked the attorney.
+
+"'No, sir, not by her husband.' Mr. Venables advanced towards him--But
+there was a decision in his attitude, that so well seconded that of his
+voice,
+
+*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *
+*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *
+*  *  *  *
+
+They left the house: at the same time protesting, that any one that
+should dare to protect me, should be prosecuted with the utmost rigour.
+
+"They were scarcely out of the house, when my landlady came up to me
+again, and begged my pardon, in a very different tone. For, though Mr.
+Venables had bid her, at her peril, harbour me, he had not attended, I
+found, to her broad hints, to discharge the lodging. I instantly promised
+to pay her, and make her a present to compensate for my abrupt departure,
+if she would procure me another lodging, at a sufficient distance; and
+she, in return, repeating Mr. Venables' plausible tale, I raised her
+indignation, and excited her sympathy, by telling her briefly the truth.
+
+"She expressed her commiseration with such honest warmth, that I felt
+soothed; for I have none of that fastidious sensitiveness, which a vulgar
+accent or gesture can alarm to the disregard of real kindness. I was ever
+glad to perceive in others the humane feelings I delighted to exercise;
+and the recollection of some ridiculous characteristic circumstances,
+which have occurred in a moment of emotion, has convulsed me with
+laughter, though at the instant I should have thought it sacrilegious to
+have smiled. Your improvement, my dearest girl, being ever present to me
+while I write, I note these feelings, because women, more accustomed to
+observe manners than actions, are too much alive to ridicule. So much so,
+that their boasted sensibility is often stifled by false delicacy. True
+sensibility, the sensibility which is the auxiliary of virtue, and the
+soul of genius, is in society so occupied with the feelings of others, as
+scarcely to regard its own sensations. With what reverence have I looked
+up at my uncle, the dear parent of my mind! when I have seen the sense of
+his own sufferings, of mind and body, absorbed in a desire to comfort
+those, whose misfortunes were comparatively trivial. He would have been
+ashamed of being as indulgent to himself, as he was to others. 'Genuine
+fortitude,' he would assert, 'consisted in governing our own emotions,
+and making allowance for the weaknesses in our friends, that we would not
+tolerate in ourselves.' But where is my fond regret leading me!
+
+"'Women must be submissive,' said my landlady. 'Indeed what could most
+women do? Who had they to maintain them, but their husbands? Every woman,
+and especially a lady, could not go through rough and smooth, as she had
+done, to earn a little bread.'
+
+"She was in a talking mood, and proceeded to inform me how she had been
+used in the world. 'She knew what it was to have a bad husband, or she
+did not know who should.' I perceived that she would be very much
+mortified, were I not to attend to her tale, and I did not attempt to
+interrupt her, though I wished her, as soon as possible, to go out in
+search of a new abode for me, where I could once more hide my head.
+
+"She began by telling me, 'That she had saved a little money in service;
+and was over-persuaded (we must all be in love once in our lives) to
+marry a likely man, a footman in the family, not worth a groat. My plan,'
+she continued, 'was to take a house, and let out lodgings; and all went
+on well, till my husband got acquainted with an impudent slut, who chose
+to live on other people's means--and then all went to rack and ruin. He
+ran in debt to buy her fine clothes, such clothes as I never thought of
+wearing myself, and--would you believe it?--he signed an execution on my
+very goods, bought with the money I worked so hard to get; and they came
+and took my bed from under me, before I heard a word of the matter. Aye,
+madam, these are misfortunes that you gentlefolks know nothing of,--but
+sorrow is sorrow, let it come which way it will.
+
+"'I sought for a service again--very hard, after having a house of my
+own!--but he used to follow me, and kick up such a riot when he was
+drunk, that I could not keep a place; nay, he even stole my clothes, and
+pawned them; and when I went to the pawnbroker's, and offered to take my
+oath that they were not bought with a farthing of his money, they said,
+'It was all as one, my husband had a right to whatever I had.'
+
+"'At last he listed for a soldier, and I took a house, making an
+agreement to pay for the furniture by degrees; and I almost starved
+myself, till I once more got before-hand in the world.
+
+"'After an absence of six years (God forgive me! I thought he was dead)
+my husband returned; found me out, and came with such a penitent face, I
+forgave him, and clothed him from head to foot. But he had not been a
+week in the house, before some of his creditors arrested him; and, he
+selling my goods, I found myself once more reduced to beggary; for I was
+not as well able to work, go to bed late, and rise early, as when I
+quitted service; and then I thought it hard enough. He was soon tired of
+me, when there was nothing more to be had, and left me again.
+
+"'I will not tell you how I was buffeted about, till, hearing for certain
+that he had died in an hospital abroad, I once more returned to my old
+occupation; but have not yet been able to get my head above water: so,
+madam, you must not be angry if I am afraid to run any risk, when I know
+so well, that women have always the worst of it, when law is to decide.'
+
+"After uttering a few more complaints, I prevailed on my landlady to go
+out in quest of a lodging; and, to be more secure, I condescended to the
+mean shift of changing my name.
+
+"But why should I dwell on similar incidents!--I was hunted, like an
+infected beast, from three different apartments, and should not have been
+allowed to rest in any, had not Mr. Venables, informed of my uncle's
+dangerous state of health, been inspired with the fear of hurrying me out
+of the world as I advanced in my pregnancy, by thus tormenting and
+obliging me to take sudden journeys to avoid him; and then his
+speculations on my uncle's fortune must prove abortive.
+
+"One day, when he had pursued me to an inn, I fainted, hurrying from him;
+and, falling down, the sight of my blood alarmed him, and obtained a
+respite for me. It is strange that he should have retained any hope,
+after observing my unwavering determination; but, from the mildness of my
+behaviour, when I found all my endeavours to change his disposition
+unavailing, he formed an erroneous opinion of my character, imagining
+that, were we once more together, I should part with the money he could
+not legally force from me, with the same facility as formerly. My
+forbearance and occasional sympathy he had mistaken for weakness of
+character; and, because he perceived that I disliked resistance, he
+thought my indulgence and compassion mere selfishness, and never
+discovered that the fear of being unjust, or of unnecessarily wounding
+the feelings of another, was much more painful to me, than any thing I
+could have to endure myself. Perhaps it was pride which made me imagine,
+that I could bear what I dreaded to inflict; and that it was often easier
+to suffer, than to see the sufferings of others.
+
+"I forgot to mention that, during this persecution, I received a letter
+from my uncle, informing me, 'that he only found relief from continual
+change of air; and that he intended to return when the spring was a
+little more advanced (it was now the middle of February), and then we
+would plan a journey to Italy, leaving the fogs and cares of England far
+behind.' He approved of my conduct, promised to adopt my child, and
+seemed to have no doubt of obliging Mr. Venables to hear reason. He wrote
+to his friend, by the same post, desiring him to call on Mr. Venables in
+his name; and, in consequence of the remonstrances he dictated, I was
+permitted to lie-in tranquilly.
+
+"The two or three weeks previous, I had been allowed to rest in peace;
+but, so accustomed was I to pursuit and alarm, that I seldom closed my
+eyes without being haunted by Mr. Venables' image, who seemed to assume
+terrific or hateful forms to torment me, wherever I turned.--Sometimes a
+wild cat, a roaring bull, or hideous assassin, whom I vainly attempted to
+fly; at others he was a demon, hurrying me to the brink of a precipice,
+plunging me into dark waves, or horrid gulfs; and I woke, in violent fits
+of trembling anxiety, to assure myself that it was all a dream, and to
+endeavour to lure my waking thoughts to wander to the delightful Italian
+vales, I hoped soon to visit; or to picture some august ruins, where I
+reclined in fancy on a mouldering column, and escaped, in the
+contemplation of the heart-enlarging virtues of antiquity, from the
+turmoil of cares that had depressed all the daring purposes of my soul.
+But I was not long allowed to calm my mind by the exercise of my
+imagination; for the third day after your birth, my child, I was
+surprised by a visit from my elder brother; who came in the most abrupt
+manner, to inform me of the death of my uncle. He had left the greater
+part of his fortune to my child, appointing me its guardian; in short,
+every step was taken to enable me to be mistress of his fortune, without
+putting any part of it in Mr. Venables' power. My brother came to vent
+his rage on me, for having, as he expressed himself, 'deprived him, my
+uncle's eldest nephew, of his inheritance;' though my uncle's property,
+the fruit of his own exertion, being all in the funds, or on landed
+securities, there was not a shadow of justice in the charge.
+
+"As I sincerely loved my uncle, this intelligence brought on a fever,
+which I struggled to conquer with all the energy of my mind; for, in my
+desolate state, I had it very much at heart to suckle you, my poor babe.
+You seemed my only tie to life, a cherub, to whom I wished to be a
+father, as well as a mother; and the double duty appeared to me to
+produce a proportionate increase of affection. But the pleasure I felt,
+while sustaining you, snatched from the wreck of hope, was cruelly damped
+by melancholy reflections on my widowed state--widowed by the death of my
+uncle. Of Mr. Venables I thought not, even when I thought of the felicity
+of loving your father, and how a mother's pleasure might be exalted, and
+her care softened by a husband's tenderness.--'Ought to be!' I exclaimed;
+and I endeavoured to drive away the tenderness that suffocated me; but
+my spirits were weak, and the unbidden tears would flow. 'Why was I,' I
+would ask thee, but thou didst not heed me,--'cut off from the
+participation of the sweetest pleasure of life?' I imagined with what
+extacy, after the pains of child-bed, I should have presented my little
+stranger, whom I had so long wished to view, to a respectable father, and
+with what maternal fondness I should have pressed them both to my
+heart!--Now I kissed her with less delight, though with the most
+endearing compassion, poor helpless one! when I perceived a slight
+resemblance of him, to whom she owed her existence; or, if any gesture
+reminded me of him, even in his best days, my heart heaved, and I pressed
+the innocent to my bosom, as if to purify it--yes, I blushed to think
+that its purity had been sullied, by allowing such a man to be its
+father.
+
+"After my recovery, I began to think of taking a house in the country, or
+of making an excursion on the continent, to avoid Mr. Venables; and to
+open my heart to new pleasures and affection. The spring was melting into
+summer, and you, my little companion, began to smile--that smile made
+hope bud out afresh, assuring me the world was not a desert. Your
+gestures were ever present to my fancy; and I dwelt on the joy I should
+feel when you would begin to walk and lisp. Watching your wakening mind,
+and shielding from every rude blast my tender blossom, I recovered my
+spirits--I dreamed not of the frost--'the killing frost,' to which you
+were destined to be exposed.--But I lose all patience--and execrate the
+injustice of the world--folly! ignorance!--I should rather call it; but,
+shut up from a free circulation of thought, and always pondering on the
+same griefs, I writhe under the torturing apprehensions, which ought to
+excite only honest indignation, or active compassion; and would, could I
+view them as the natural consequence of things. But, born a woman--and
+born to suffer, in endeavouring to repress my own emotions, I feel more
+acutely the various ills my sex are fated to bear--I feel that the evils
+they are subject to endure, degrade them so far below their oppressors,
+as almost to justify their tyranny; leading at the same time superficial
+reasoners to term that weakness the cause, which is only the consequence
+of short-sighted despotism.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[91-A] The introduction of Darnford as the deliverer of Maria, in an
+early stage of the history, is already stated (Chap. III.) to have been
+an after-thought of the author. This has probably caused the
+imperfectness of the manuscript in the above passage; though, at the same
+time, it must be acknowledged to be somewhat uncertain, whether Darnford
+is the stranger intended in this place. It appears from Chap. XVII. that
+an interference of a more decisive nature was designed to be attributed
+to him.
+
+EDITOR.
+
+
+
+
+CHAP. XIV.
+
+
+"AS my mind grew calmer, the visions of Italy again returned with their
+former glow of colouring; and I resolved on quitting the kingdom for a
+time, in search of the cheerfulness, that naturally results from a change
+of scene, unless we carry the barbed arrow with us, and only see what we
+feel.
+
+"During the period necessary to prepare for a long absence, I sent a
+supply to pay my father's debts, and settled my brothers in eligible
+situations; but my attention was not wholly engrossed by my family,
+though I do not think it necessary to enumerate the common exertions of
+humanity. The manner in which my uncle's property was settled, prevented
+me from making the addition to the fortune of my surviving sister, that I
+could have wished; but I had prevailed on him to bequeath her two
+thousand pounds, and she determined to marry a lover, to whom she had
+been some time attached. Had it not been for this engagement, I should
+have invited her to accompany me in my tour; and I might have escaped the
+pit, so artfully dug in my path, when I was the least aware of danger.
+
+"I had thought of remaining in England, till I weaned my child; but this
+state of freedom was too peaceful to last, and I had soon reason to wish
+to hasten my departure. A friend of Mr. Venables, the same attorney who
+had accompanied him in several excursions to hunt me from my hiding
+places, waited on me to propose a reconciliation. On my refusal, he
+indirectly advised me to make over to my husband--for husband he would
+term him--the greater part of the property I had at command, menacing me
+with continual persecution unless I complied, and that, as a last resort,
+he would claim the child. I did not, though intimidated by the last
+insinuation, scruple to declare, that I would not allow him to squander
+the money left to me for far different purposes, but offered him five
+hundred pounds, if he would sign a bond not to torment me any more. My
+maternal anxiety made me thus appear to waver from my first
+determination, and probably suggested to him, or his diabolical agent,
+the infernal plot, which has succeeded but too well.
+
+"The bond was executed; still I was impatient to leave England. Mischief
+hung in the air when we breathed the same; I wanted seas to divide us,
+and waters to roll between, till he had forgotten that I had the means of
+helping him through a new scheme. Disturbed by the late occurrences, I
+instantly prepared for my departure. My only delay was waiting for a
+maid-servant, who spoke French fluently, and had been warmly recommended
+to me. A valet I was advised to hire, when I fixed on my place of
+residence for any time.
+
+"My God, with what a light heart did I set out for Dover!--It was not my
+country, but my cares, that I was leaving behind. My heart seemed to
+bound with the wheels, or rather appeared the centre on which they
+twirled. I clasped you to my bosom, exclaiming 'And you will be
+safe--quite safe--when--we are once on board the packet.--Would we were
+there!' I smiled at my idle fears, as the natural effect of continual
+alarm; and I scarcely owned to myself that I dreaded Mr. Venables's
+cunning, or was conscious of the horrid delight he would feel, at forming
+stratagem after stratagem to circumvent me. I was already in the snare--I
+never reached the packet--I never saw thee more.--I grow breathless. I
+have scarcely patience to write down the details. The maid--the plausible
+woman I had hired--put, doubtless, some stupifying potion in what I ate
+or drank, the morning I left town. All I know is, that she must have
+quitted the chaise, shameless wretch! and taken (from my breast) my babe
+with her. How could a creature in a female form see me caress thee, and
+steal thee from my arms! I must stop, stop to repress a mother's anguish;
+left, in bitterness of soul, I imprecate the wrath of heaven on this
+tiger, who tore my only comfort from me.
+
+"How long I slept I know not; certainly many hours, for I woke at the
+close of day, in a strange confusion of thought. I was probably roused to
+recollection by some one thundering at a huge, unwieldy gate. Attempting
+to ask where I was, my voice died away, and I tried to raise it in vain,
+as I have done in a dream. I looked for my babe with affright; feared
+that it had fallen out of my lap, while I had so strangely forgotten
+her; and, such was the vague intoxication, I can give it no other name,
+in which I was plunged, I could not recollect when or where I last saw
+you; but I sighed, as if my heart wanted room to clear my head.
+
+"The gates opened heavily, and the sullen sound of many locks and bolts
+drawn back, grated on my very soul, before I was appalled by the creeking
+of the dismal hinges, as they closed after me. The gloomy pile was before
+me, half in ruins; some of the aged trees of the avenue were cut down,
+and left to rot where they fell; and as we approached some mouldering
+steps, a monstrous dog darted forwards to the length of his chain, and
+barked and growled infernally.
+
+"The door was opened slowly, and a murderous visage peeped out, with a
+lantern. 'Hush!' he uttered, in a threatning tone, and the affrighted
+animal stole back to his kennel. The door of the chaise flew back, the
+stranger put down the lantern, and clasped his dreadful arms around me.
+It was certainly the effect of the soporific draught, for, instead of
+exerting my strength, I sunk without motion, though not without sense, on
+his shoulder, my limbs refusing to obey my will. I was carried up the
+steps into a close-shut hall. A candle flaring in the socket, scarcely
+dispersed the darkness, though it displayed to me the ferocious
+countenance of the wretch who held me.
+
+"He mounted a wide staircase. Large figures painted on the walls seemed
+to start on me, and glaring eyes to meet me at every turn. Entering a
+long gallery, a dismal shriek made me spring out of my conductor's arms,
+with I know not what mysterious emotion of terror; but I fell on the
+floor, unable to sustain myself.
+
+"A strange-looking female started out of one of the recesses, and
+observed me with more curiosity than interest; till, sternly bid retire,
+she flitted back like a shadow. Other faces, strongly marked, or
+distorted, peeped through the half-opened doors, and I heard some
+incoherent sounds. I had no distinct idea where I could be--I looked on
+all sides, and almost doubted whether I was alive or dead.
+
+"Thrown on a bed, I immediately sunk into insensibility again; and next
+day, gradually recovering the use of reason, I began, starting
+affrighted from the conviction, to discover where I was confined--I
+insisted on seeing the master of the mansion--I saw him--and perceived
+that I was buried alive.--
+
+"Such, my child, are the events of thy mother's life to this dreadful
+moment--Should she ever escape from the fangs of her enemies, she will
+add the secrets of her prison-house--and--"
+
+Some lines were here crossed out, and the memoirs broke off abruptly with
+the names of Jemima and Darnford.
+
+
+
+
+APPENDIX.
+
+[ADVERTISEMENT.
+
+
+THE performance, with a fragment of which the reader has now been
+presented, was designed to consist of three parts. The preceding sheets
+were considered as constituting one of those parts. Those persons who in
+the perusal of the chapters, already written and in some degree finished
+by the author, have felt their hearts awakened, and their curiosity
+excited as to the sequel of the story, will, of course, gladly accept
+even of the broken paragraphs and half-finished sentences, which have
+been found committed to paper, as materials for the remainder. The
+fastidious and cold-hearted critic may perhaps feel himself repelled by
+the incoherent form in which they are presented. But an inquisitive
+temper willingly accepts the most imperfect and mutilated information,
+where better is not to be had: and readers, who in any degree resemble
+the author in her quick apprehension of sentiment, and of the pleasures
+and pains of imagination, will, I believe, find gratification, in
+contemplating sketches, which were designed in a short time to have
+received the finishing touches of her genius; but which must now for ever
+remain a mark to record the triumphs of mortality, over schemes of
+usefulness, and projects of public interest.]
+
+
+
+
+CHAP. XV.
+
+
+DARNFORD returned the memoirs to Maria, with a most affectionate letter,
+in which he reasoned on "the absurdity of the laws respecting matrimony,
+which, till divorces could be more easily obtained, was," he declared,
+"the most insufferable bondage. Ties of this nature could not bind minds
+governed by superior principles; and such beings were privileged to act
+above the dictates of laws they had no voice in framing, if they had
+sufficient strength of mind to endure the natural consequence. In her
+case, to talk of duty, was a farce, excepting what was due to herself.
+Delicacy, as well as reason, forbade her ever to think of returning to
+her husband: was she then to restrain her charming sensibility through
+mere prejudice? These arguments were not absolutely impartial, for he
+disdained to conceal, that, when he appealed to her reason, he felt that
+he had some interest in her heart.--The conviction was not more
+transporting, than sacred--a thousand times a day, he asked himself how
+he had merited such happiness?--and as often he determined to purify the
+heart she deigned to inhabit--He intreated to be again admitted to her
+presence."
+
+He was; and the tear which glistened in his eye, when he respectfully
+pressed her to his bosom, rendered him peculiarly dear to the unfortunate
+mother. Grief had stilled the transports of love, only to render their
+mutual tenderness more touching. In former interviews, Darnford had
+contrived, by a hundred little pretexts, to sit near her, to take her
+hand, or to meet her eyes--now it was all soothing affection, and esteem
+seemed to have rivalled love. He adverted to her narrative, and spoke
+with warmth of the oppression she had endured.--His eyes, glowing with a
+lambent flame, told her how much he wished to restore her to liberty and
+love; but he kissed her hand, as if it had been that of a saint; and
+spoke of the loss of her child, as if it had been his own.--What could
+have been more flattering to Maria?--Every instance of self-denial was
+registered in her heart, and she loved him, for loving her too well to
+give way to the transports of passion.
+
+They met again and again; and Darnford declared, while passion suffused
+his cheeks, that he never before knew what it was to love.--
+
+One morning Jemima informed Maria, that her master intended to wait on
+her, and speak to her without witnesses. He came, and brought a letter
+with him, pretending that he was ignorant of its contents, though he
+insisted on having it returned to him. It was from the attorney already
+mentioned, who informed her of the death of her child, and hinted, "that
+she could not now have a legitimate heir, and that, would she make over
+the half of her fortune during life, she should be conveyed to Dover, and
+permitted to pursue her plan of travelling."
+
+Maria answered with warmth, "That she had no terms to make with the
+murderer of her babe, nor would she purchase liberty at the price of her
+own respect."
+
+She began to expostulate with her jailor; but he sternly bade her "Be
+silent--he had not gone so far, not to go further."
+
+Darnford came in the evening. Jemima was obliged to be absent, and she,
+as usual, locked the door on them, to prevent interruption or
+discovery.--The lovers were, at first, embarrassed; but fell insensibly
+into confidential discourse. Darnford represented, "that they might soon
+be parted," and wished her "to put it out of the power of fate to
+separate them."
+
+As her husband she now received him, and he solemnly pledged himself as
+her protector--and eternal friend.--
+
+There was one peculiarity in Maria's mind: she was more anxious not to
+deceive, than to guard against deception; and had rather trust without
+sufficient reason, than be for ever the prey of doubt. Besides, what are
+we, when the mind has, from reflection, a certain kind of elevation,
+which exalts the contemplation above the little concerns of prudence! We
+see what we wish, and make a world of our own--and, though reality may
+sometimes open a door to misery, yet the moments of happiness procured by
+the imagination, may, without a paradox, be reckoned among the solid
+comforts of life. Maria now, imagining that she had found a being of
+celestial mould--was happy,--nor was she deceived.--He was then plastic
+in her impassioned hand--and reflected all the sentiments which animated
+and warmed her.
+
+-- -- -- --
+-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
+-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
+
+
+
+
+CHAP. XVI.
+
+
+ONE morning confusion seemed to reign in the house, and Jemima came in
+terror, to inform Maria, "that her master had left it, with a
+determination, she was assured (and too many circumstances corroborated
+the opinion, to leave a doubt of its truth) of never returning. I am
+prepared then," said Jemima, "to accompany you in your flight."
+
+Maria started up, her eyes darting towards the door, as if afraid that
+some one should fasten it on her for ever.
+
+Jemima continued, "I have perhaps no right now to expect the performance
+of your promise; but on you it depends to reconcile me with the human
+race."
+
+"But Darnford!"--exclaimed Maria, mournfully--sitting down again, and
+crossing her arms--"I have no child to go to, and liberty has lost its
+sweets."
+
+"I am much mistaken, if Darnford is not the cause of my master's
+flight--his keepers assure me, that they have promised to confine him two
+days longer, and then he will be free--you cannot see him; but they will
+give a letter to him the moment he is free.--In that inform him where he
+may find you in London; fix on some hotel. Give me your clothes; I will
+send them out of the house with mine, and we will slip out at the
+garden-gate. Write your letter while I make these arrangements, but lose
+no time!"
+
+In an agitation of spirit, not to be calmed, Maria began to write to
+Darnford. She called him by the sacred name of "husband," and bade him
+"hasten to her, to share her fortune, or she would return to him."--An
+hotel in the Adelphi was the place of rendezvous.
+
+The letter was sealed and given in charge; and with light footsteps, yet
+terrified at the sound of them, she descended, scarcely breathing, and
+with an indistinct fear that she should never get out at the garden gate.
+Jemima went first.
+
+A being, with a visage that would have suited one possessed by a devil,
+crossed the path, and seized Maria by the arm. Maria had no fear but of
+being detained--"Who are you? what are you?" for the form was scarcely
+human. "If you are made of flesh and blood," his ghastly eyes glared on
+her, "do not stop me!"
+
+"Woman," interrupted a sepulchral voice, "what have I to do with
+thee?"--Still he grasped her hand, muttering a curse.
+
+"No, no; you have nothing to do with me," she exclaimed, "this is a
+moment of life and death!"--
+
+With supernatural force she broke from him, and, throwing her arms round
+Jemima, cried, "Save me!" The being, from whose grasp she had loosed
+herself, took up a stone as they opened the door, and with a kind of
+hellish sport threw it after them. They were out of his reach.
+
+When Maria arrived in town, she drove to the hotel already fixed on. But
+she could not sit still--her child was ever before her; and all that had
+passed during her confinement, appeared to be a dream. She went to the
+house in the suburbs, where, as she now discovered, her babe had been
+sent. The moment she entered, her heart grew sick; but she wondered not
+that it had proved its grave. She made the necessary enquiries, and the
+church-yard was pointed out, in which it rested under a turf. A little
+frock which the nurse's child wore (Maria had made it herself) caught her
+eye. The nurse was glad to sell it for half-a-guinea, and Maria hastened
+away with the relic, and, re-entering the hackney-coach which waited for
+her, gazed on it, till she reached her hotel.
+
+She then waited on the attorney who had made her uncle's will, and
+explained to him her situation. He readily advanced her some of the
+money which still remained in his hands, and promised to take the whole
+of the case into consideration. Maria only wished to be permitted to
+remain in quiet--She found that several bills, apparently with her
+signature, had been presented to her agent, nor was she for a moment at a
+loss to guess by whom they had been forged; yet, equally averse to
+threaten or intreat, she requested her friend [the solicitor] to call on
+Mr. Venables. He was not to be found at home; but at length his agent,
+the attorney, offered a conditional promise to Maria, to leave her in
+peace, as long as she behaved with propriety, if she would give up the
+notes. Maria inconsiderately consented--Darnford was arrived, and she
+wished to be only alive to love; she wished to forget the anguish she
+felt whenever she thought of her child.
+
+They took a ready furnished lodging together, for she was above disguise;
+Jemima insisting on being considered as her house-keeper, and to receive
+the customary stipend. On no other terms would she remain with her
+friend.
+
+Darnford was indefatigable in tracing the mysterious circumstances of his
+confinement. The cause was simply, that a relation, a very distant one,
+to whom he was heir, had died intestate, leaving a considerable fortune.
+On the news of Darnford's arrival [in England, a person, intrusted with
+the management of the property, and who had the writings in his
+possession, determining, by one bold stroke, to strip Darnford of the
+succession,] had planned his confinement; and [as soon as he had taken
+the measures he judged most conducive to his object, this ruffian,
+together with his instrument,] the keeper of the private mad-house, left
+the kingdom. Darnford, who still pursued his enquiries, at last
+discovered that they had fixed their place of refuge at Paris.
+
+Maria and he determined therefore, with the faithful Jemima, to visit
+that metropolis, and accordingly were preparing for the journey, when
+they were informed that Mr. Venables had commenced an action against
+Darnford for seduction and adultery. The indignation Maria felt cannot be
+explained; she repented of the forbearance she had exercised in giving up
+the notes. Darnford could not put off his journey, without risking the
+loss of his property: Maria therefore furnished him with money for his
+expedition; and determined to remain in London till the termination of
+this affair.
+
+She visited some ladies with whom she had formerly been intimate, but was
+refused admittance; and at the opera, or Ranelagh, they could not
+recollect her. Among these ladies there were some, not her most intimate
+acquaintance, who were generally supposed to avail themselves of the
+cloke of marriage, to conceal a mode of conduct, that would for ever have
+damned their fame, had they been innocent, seduced girls. These
+particularly stood aloof.--Had she remained with her husband, practising
+insincerity, and neglecting her child to manage an intrigue, she would
+still have been visited and respected. If, instead of openly living with
+her lover, she could have condescended to call into play a thousand
+arts, which, degrading her own mind, might have allowed the people who
+were not deceived, to pretend to be so, she would have been caressed and
+treated like an honourable woman. "And Brutus[138-A] is an honourable
+man!" said Mark-Antony with equal sincerity.
+
+With Darnford she did not taste uninterrupted felicity; there was a
+volatility in his manner which often distressed her; but love gladdened
+the scene; besides, he was the most tender, sympathizing creature in the
+world. A fondness for the sex often gives an appearance of humanity to
+the behaviour of men, who have small pretensions to the reality; and they
+seem to love others, when they are only pursuing their own
+gratification. Darnford appeared ever willing to avail himself of her
+taste and acquirements, while she endeavoured to profit by his decision
+of character, and to eradicate some of the romantic notions, which had
+taken root in her mind, while in adversity she had brooded over visions
+of unattainable bliss.
+
+The real affections of life, when they are allowed to burst forth, are
+buds pregnant with joy and all the sweet emotions of the soul; yet they
+branch out with wild ease, unlike the artificial forms of felicity,
+sketched by an imagination painful alive. The substantial happiness,
+which enlarges and civilizes the mind, may be compared to the pleasure
+experienced in roving through nature at large, inhaling the sweet gale
+natural to the clime; while the reveries of a feverish imagination
+continually sport themselves in gardens full of aromatic shrubs, which
+cloy while they delight, and weaken the sense of pleasure they gratify.
+The heaven of fancy, below or beyond the stars, in this life, or in those
+ever-smiling regions surrounded by the unmarked ocean of futurity, have
+an insipid uniformity which palls. Poets have imagined scenes of bliss;
+but, fencing out sorrow, all the extatic emotions of the soul, and even
+its grandeur, seem to be equally excluded. We dose over the unruffled
+lake, and long to scale the rocks which fence the happy valley of
+contentment, though serpents hiss in the pathless desert, and danger
+lurks in the unexplored wiles. Maria found herself more indulgent as she
+was happier, and discovered virtues, in characters she had before
+disregarded, while chasing the phantoms of elegance and excellence, which
+sported in the meteors that exhale in the marshes of misfortune. The
+heart is often shut by romance against social pleasure; and, fostering a
+sickly sensibility, grows callous to the soft touches of humanity.
+
+To part with Darnford was indeed cruel.--It was to feel most painfully
+alone; but she rejoiced to think, that she should spare him the care and
+perplexity of the suit, and meet him again, all his own. Marriage, as at
+present constituted, she considered as leading to immorality--yet, as the
+odium of society impedes usefulness, she wished to avow her affection to
+Darnford, by becoming his wife according to established rules; not to be
+confounded with women who act from very different motives, though her
+conduct would be just the same without the ceremony as with it, and her
+expectations from him not less firm. The being summoned to defend herself
+from a charge which she was determined to plead guilty to, was still
+galling, as it roused bitter reflections on the situation of women in
+society.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[138-A] The name in the manuscript is by mistake written Cæsar.
+
+EDITOR.
+
+
+
+
+CHAP. XVII.
+
+
+SUCH was her state of mind when the dogs of law were let loose on her.
+Maria took the task of conducting Darnford's defence upon herself. She
+instructed his counsel to plead guilty to the charge of adultery; but to
+deny that of seduction.
+
+The counsel for the plaintiff opened the cause, by observing, "that his
+client had ever been an indulgent husband, and had borne with several
+defects of temper, while he had nothing criminal to lay to the charge of
+his wife. But that she left his house without assigning any cause. He
+could not assert that she was then acquainted with the defendant; yet,
+when he was once endeavouring to bring her back to her home, this man
+put the peace-officers to flight, and took her he knew not whither. After
+the birth of her child, her conduct was so strange, and a melancholy
+malady having afflicted one of the family, which delicacy forbade the
+dwelling on, it was necessary to confine her. By some means the defendant
+enabled her to make her escape, and they had lived together, in despite
+of all sense of order and decorum. The adultery was allowed, it was not
+necessary to bring any witnesses to prove it; but the seduction, though
+highly probable from the circumstances which he had the honour to state,
+could not be so clearly proved.--It was of the most atrocious kind, as
+decency was set at defiance, and respect for reputation, which shows
+internal compunction, utterly disregarded."
+
+A strong sense of injustice had silenced every emotion, which a mixture
+of true and false delicacy might otherwise have excited in Maria's bosom.
+She only felt in earnest to insist on the privilege of her nature. The
+sarcasms of society, and the condemnation of a mistaken world, were
+nothing to her, compared with acting contrary to those feelings which
+were the foundation of her principles. [She therefore eagerly put herself
+forward, instead of desiring to be absent, on this memorable occasion.]
+
+Convinced that the subterfuges of the law were disgraceful, she wrote a
+paper, which she expressly desired might be read in court:
+
+"Married when scarcely able to distinguish the nature of the engagement,
+I yet submitted to the rigid laws which enslave women, and obeyed the man
+whom I could no longer love. Whether the duties of the state are
+reciprocal, I mean not to discuss; but I can prove repeated infidelities
+which I overlooked or pardoned. Witnesses are not wanting to establish
+these facts. I at present maintain the child of a maid servant, sworn to
+him, and born after our marriage. I am ready to allow, that education and
+circumstances lead men to think and act with less delicacy, than the
+preservation of order in society demands from women; but surely I may
+without assumption declare, that, though I could excuse the birth, I
+could not the desertion of this unfortunate babe:--and, while I despised
+the man, it was not easy to venerate the husband. With proper
+restrictions however, I revere the institution which fraternizes the
+world. I exclaim against the laws which throw the whole weight of the
+yoke on the weaker shoulders, and force women, when they claim
+protectorship as mothers, to sign a contract, which renders them
+dependent on the caprice of the tyrant, whom choice or necessity has
+appointed to reign over them. Various are the cases, in which a woman
+ought to separate herself from her husband; and mine, I may be allowed
+emphatically to insist, comes under the description of the most
+aggravated.
+
+"I will not enlarge on those provocations which only the individual can
+estimate; but will bring forward such charges only, the truth of which is
+an insult upon humanity. In order to promote certain destructive
+speculations, Mr. Venables prevailed on me to borrow certain sums of a
+wealthy relation; and, when I refused further compliance, he thought of
+bartering my person; and not only allowed opportunities to, but urged, a
+friend from whom he borrowed money, to seduce me. On the discovery of
+this act of atrocity, I determined to leave him, and in the most decided
+manner, for ever. I consider all obligation as made void by his conduct;
+and hold, that schisms which proceed from want of principles, can never
+be healed.
+
+"He received a fortune with me to the amount of five thousand pounds. On
+the death of my uncle, convinced that I could provide for my child, I
+destroyed the settlement of that fortune. I required none of my property
+to be returned to me, nor shall enumerate the sums extorted from me
+during six years that we lived together.
+
+"After leaving, what the law considers as my home, I was hunted like a
+criminal from place to place, though I contracted no debts, and demanded
+no maintenance--yet, as the laws sanction such proceeding, and make women
+the property of their husbands, I forbear to animadvert. After the birth
+of my daughter, and the death of my uncle, who left a very considerable
+property to myself and child, I was exposed to new persecution; and,
+because I had, before arriving at what is termed years of discretion,
+pledged my faith, I was treated by the world, as bound for ever to a man
+whose vices were notorious. Yet what are the vices generally known, to
+the various miseries that a woman may be subject to, which, though
+deeply felt, eating into the soul, elude description, and may be glossed
+over! A false morality is even established, which makes all the virtue of
+women consist in chastity, submission, and the forgiveness of injuries.
+
+"I pardon my oppressor--bitterly as I lament the loss of my child, torn
+from me in the most violent manner. But nature revolts, and my soul
+sickens at the bare supposition, that it could ever be a duty to pretend
+affection, when a separation is necessary to prevent my feeling hourly
+aversion.
+
+"To force me to give my fortune, I was imprisoned--yes; in a private
+mad-house.--There, in the heart of misery, I met the man charged with
+seducing me. We became attached--I deemed, and ever shall deem, myself
+free. The death of my babe dissolved the only tie which subsisted
+between me and my, what is termed, lawful husband.
+
+"To this person, thus encountered, I voluntarily gave myself, never
+considering myself as any more bound to transgress the laws of moral
+purity, because the will of my husband might be pleaded in my excuse,
+than to transgress those laws to which [the policy of artificial society
+has] annexed [positive] punishments.----While no command of a husband can
+prevent a woman from suffering for certain crimes, she must be allowed to
+consult her conscience, and regulate her conduct, in some degree, by her
+own sense of right. The respect I owe to myself, demanded my strict
+adherence to my determination of never viewing Mr. Venables in the light
+of a husband, nor could it forbid me from encouraging another. If I am
+unfortunately united to an unprincipled man, am I for ever to be shut out
+from fulfilling the duties of a wife and mother?--I wish my country to
+approve of my conduct; but, if laws exist, made by the strong to oppress
+the weak, I appeal to my own sense of justice, and declare that I will
+not live with the individual, who has violated every moral obligation
+which binds man to man.
+
+"I protest equally against any charge being brought to criminate the man,
+whom I consider as my husband. I was six-and-twenty when I left Mr.
+Venables' roof; if ever I am to be supposed to arrive at an age to direct
+my own actions, I must by that time have arrived at it.--I acted with
+deliberation.--Mr. Darnford found me a forlorn and oppressed woman, and
+promised the protection women in the present state of society want.--But
+the man who now claims me--was he deprived of my society by this conduct?
+The question is an insult to common sense, considering where Mr. Darnford
+met me.--Mr. Venables' door was indeed open to me--nay, threats and
+intreaties were used to induce me to return; but why? Was affection or
+honour the motive?--I cannot, it is true, dive into the recesses of the
+human heart--yet I presume to assert, [borne out as I am by a variety of
+circumstances,] that he was merely influenced by the most rapacious
+avarice.
+
+"I claim then a divorce, and the liberty of enjoying, free from
+molestation, the fortune left to me by a relation, who was well aware of
+the character of the man with whom I had to contend.--I appeal to the
+justice and humanity of the jury--a body of men, whose private judgment
+must be allowed to modify laws, that must be unjust, because definite
+rules can never apply to indefinite circumstances--and I deprecate
+punishment upon the man of my choice, freeing him, as I solemnly do, from
+the charge of seduction.]
+
+"I did not put myself into a situation to justify a charge of adultery,
+till I had, from conviction, shaken off the fetters which bound me to Mr.
+Venables.--While I lived with him, I defy the voice of calumny to sully
+what is termed the fair fame of woman.--Neglected by my husband, I never
+encouraged a lover; and preserved with scrupulous care, what is termed my
+honour, at the expence of my peace, till he, who should have been its
+guardian, laid traps to ensnare me. From that moment I believed myself,
+in the sight of heaven, free--and no power on earth shall force me to
+renounce my resolution."
+
+The judge, in summing up the evidence, alluded to "the fallacy of letting
+women plead their feelings, as an excuse for the violation of the
+marriage-vow. For his part, he had always determined to oppose all
+innovation, and the new-fangled notions which incroached on the good old
+rules of conduct. We did not want French principles in public or private
+life--and, if women were allowed to plead their feelings, as an excuse or
+palliation of infidelity, it was opening a flood-gate for immorality.
+What virtuous woman thought of her feelings?--It was her duty to love and
+obey the man chosen by her parents and relations, who were qualified by
+their experience to judge better for her, than she could for herself. As
+to the charges brought against the husband, they were vague, supported by
+no witnesses, excepting that of imprisonment in a private mad-house. The
+proofs of an insanity in the family, might render that however a prudent
+measure; and indeed the conduct of the lady did not appear that of a
+person of sane mind. Still such a mode of proceeding could not be
+justified, and might perhaps entitle the lady [in another court] to a
+sentence of separation from bed and board, during the joint lives of the
+parties; but he hoped that no Englishman would legalize adultery, by
+enabling the adulteress to enrich her seducer. Too many restrictions
+could not be thrown in the way of divorces, if we wished to maintain the
+sanctity of marriage; and, though they might bear a little hard on a few,
+very few individuals, it was evidently for the good of the whole."
+
+
+
+
+CONCLUSION,
+
+BY THE EDITOR.
+
+
+VERY few hints exist respecting the plan of the remainder of the work. I
+find only two detached sentences, and some scattered heads for the
+continuation of the story. I transcribe the whole.
+
+
+I.
+
+"Darnford's letters were affectionate; but circumstances occasioned
+delays, and the miscarriage of some letters rendered the reception of
+wished-for answers doubtful: his return was necessary to calm Maria's
+mind."
+
+
+II.
+
+"As Darnford had informed her that his business was settled, his delaying
+to return seemed extraordinary; but love to excess, excludes fear or
+suspicion."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The scattered heads for the continuation of the story, are as
+follow[159-A].
+
+
+I.
+
+"Trial for adultery--Maria defends herself--A separation from bed and
+board is the consequence--Her fortune is thrown into chancery--Darnford
+obtains a part of his property--Maria goes into the country."
+
+
+II.
+
+"A prosecution for adultery commenced--Trial--Darnford sets out for
+France--Letters--Once more pregnant--He returns--Mysterious
+behaviour--Visit--Expectation--Discovery--Interview--Consequence."
+
+
+III.
+
+"Sued by her husband--Damages awarded to him--Separation from bed and
+board--Darnford goes abroad--Maria into the country--Provides for her
+father--Is shunned--Returns to London--Expects to see her lover--The
+rack of expectation--Finds herself again with child--Delighted--A
+discovery--A visit--A miscarriage--Conclusion."
+
+
+IV.
+
+"Divorced by her husband--Her lover
+unfaithful--Pregnancy--Miscarriage--Suicide."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[The following passage appears in some respects to deviate from the
+preceding hints. It is superscribed]
+
+
+"THE END.
+
+
+"She swallowed the laudanum; her soul was calm--the tempest had
+subsided--and nothing remained but an eager longing to forget
+herself--to fly from the anguish she endured to escape from thought--from
+this hell of disappointment.
+
+"Still her eyes closed not--one remembrance with frightful velocity
+followed another--All the incidents of her life were in arms, embodied to
+assail her, and prevent her sinking into the sleep of death.--Her
+murdered child again appeared to her, mourning for the babe of which she
+was the tomb.--'And could it have a nobler?--Surely it is better to die
+with me, than to enter on life without a mother's care!--I cannot
+live!--but could I have deserted my child the moment it was born?--thrown
+it on the troubled wave of life, without a hand to support it?'--She
+looked up: 'What have I not suffered!--may I find a father where I am
+going!'--Her head turned; a stupor ensued; a faintness--'Have a little
+patience,' said Maria, holding her swimming head (she thought of her
+mother), 'this cannot last long; and what is a little bodily pain to the
+pangs I have endured?'
+
+"A new vision swam before her. Jemima seemed to enter--leading a little
+creature, that, with tottering footsteps, approached the bed. The voice
+of Jemima sounding as at a distance, called her--she tried to listen, to
+speak, to look!
+
+"'Behold your child!' exclaimed Jemima. Maria started off the bed, and
+fainted.--Violent vomiting followed.
+
+"When she was restored to life, Jemima addressed her with great
+solemnity: '------ led me to suspect, that your husband and brother had
+deceived you, and secreted the child. I would not torment you with
+doubtful hopes, and I left you (at a fatal moment) to search for the
+child!--I snatched her from misery--and (now she is alive again) would
+you leave her alone in the world, to endure what I have endured?'
+
+"Maria gazed wildly at her, her whole frame was convulsed with emotion;
+when the child, whom Jemima had been tutoring all the journey, uttered
+the word 'Mamma!' She caught her to her bosom, and burst into a passion
+of tears--then, resting the child gently on the bed, as if afraid of
+killing it,--she put her hand to her eyes, to conceal as it were the
+agonizing struggle of her soul. She remained silent for five minutes,
+crossing her arms over her bosom, and reclining her head,--then
+exclaimed: 'The conflict is over!--I will live for my child!'"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A few readers perhaps, in looking over these hints, will wonder how it
+could have been practicable, without tediousness, or remitting in any
+degree the interest of the story, to have filled, from these slight
+sketches, a number of pages, more considerable than those which have been
+already presented. But, in reality, these hints, simple as they are, are
+pregnant with passion and distress. It is the refuge of barren authors
+only, to crowd their fictions with so great a number of events, as to
+suffer no one of them to sink into the reader's mind. It is the province
+of true genius to develop events, to discover their capabilities, to
+ascertain the different passions and sentiments with which they are
+fraught, and to diversify them with incidents, that give reality to the
+picture, and take a hold upon the mind of a reader of taste, from which
+they can never be loosened. It was particularly the design of the author,
+in the present instance, to make her story subordinate to a great moral
+purpose, that "of exhibiting the misery and oppression, peculiar to
+women, that arise out of the partial laws and customs of society.--This
+view restrained her fancy[166-A]." It was necessary for her, to place in
+a striking point of view, evils that are too frequently overlooked, and
+to drag into light those details of oppression, of which the grosser and
+more insensible part of mankind make little account.
+
+
+THE END.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[159-A] To understand these minutes, it is necessary the reader should
+consider each of them as setting out from the same point in the story,
+_viz._ the point to which it is brought down in the preceding chapter.
+
+[166-A] See author's preface.
+
+
+
+
+LESSONS.
+
+
+ADVERTISEMENT,
+
+BY THE EDITOR.
+
+
+THE following pages will, I believe, be judged by every reader of taste
+to have been worth preserving, among the other testimonies the author
+left behind her, of her genius and the soundness of her understanding.
+To such readers I leave the task of comparing these lessons, with other
+works of the same nature previously published. It is obvious that the
+author has struck out a path of her own, and by no means intrenched upon
+the plans of her predecessors.
+
+It may however excite surprise in some persons to find these papers
+annexed to the conclusion of a novel. All I have to offer on this
+subject, consists in the following considerations:
+
+First, something is to be allowed for the difficulty of arranging the
+miscellaneous papers upon very different subjects, which will frequently
+constitute an author's posthumous works.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Secondly, the small portion they occupy in the present volume, will
+perhaps be accepted as an apology, by such good-natured readers (if any
+such there are), to whom the perusal of them shall be a matter of perfect
+indifference.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Thirdly, the circumstance which determined me in annexing them to the
+present work, was the slight association (in default of a strong one)
+between the affectionate and pathetic manner in which Maria Venables
+addresses her infant, in the Wrongs of Woman; and the agonising and
+painful sentiment with which the author originally bequeathed these
+papers, as a legacy for the benefit of her child.
+
+
+
+
+LESSONS.
+
+_The first book of a series which I intended to have written for my
+unfortunate girl[175-A]._
+
+
+LESSON I.
+
+CAT. Dog. Cow. Horse. Sheep. Pig. Bird. Fly.
+
+Man. Boy. Girl. Child.
+
+Head. Hair. Face. Nose. Mouth. Chin. Neck. Arms. Hand. Leg. Foot. Back.
+Breast.
+
+House. Wall. Field. Street. Stone. Grass.
+
+Bed. Chair. Door. Pot. Spoon. Knife. Fork. Plate. Cup. Box. Boy. Bell.
+
+Tree. Leaf. Stick. Whip. Cart. Coach.
+
+Frock. Hat. Coat. Shoes. Shift. Cap.
+
+Bread. Milk. Tea. Meat. Drink. Cake.
+
+
+LESSON II.
+
+Come. Walk. Run. Go. Jump. Dance. Ride. Sit. Stand. Play. Hold. Shake.
+Speak. Sing. Cry. Laugh. Call. Fall.
+
+Day. Night. Sun. Moon. Light. Dark. Sleep. Wake.
+
+Wash. Dress. Kiss. Comb.
+
+Fire. Hot. Burn. Wind. Rain. Cold.
+
+Hurt. Tear. Break. Spill.
+
+Book. See. Look.
+
+Sweet. Good. Clean.
+
+Gone. Lost. Hide. Keep. Give. Take.
+
+One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten.
+
+White. Black. Red. Blue. Green. Brown.
+
+
+LESSON III.
+
+STROKE the cat. Play with the Dog. Eat the bread. Drink the milk. Hold
+the cup. Lay down the knife.
+
+Look at the fly. See the horse. Shut the door. Bring the chair. Ring the
+bell. Get your book.
+
+Hide your face. Wipe your nose. Wash your hands. Dirty hands. Why do you
+cry? A clean mouth. Shake hands. I love you. Kiss me now. Good girl.
+
+The bird sings. The fire burns. The cat jumps. The dog runs. The bird
+flies. The cow lies down. The man laughs. The child cries.
+
+
+LESSON IV.
+
+LET me comb your head. Ask Betty to wash your face. Go and see for some
+bread. Drink milk, if you are dry. Play on the floor with the ball. Do
+not touch the ink; you will black your hands.
+
+What do you want to say to me? Speak slow, not so fast. Did you fall? You
+will not cry, not you; the baby cries. Will you walk in the fields?
+
+
+LESSON V.
+
+COME to me, my little girl. Are you tired of playing? Yes. Sit down and
+rest yourself, while I talk to you.
+
+Have you seen the baby? Poor little thing. O here it comes. Look at him.
+How helpless he is. Four years ago you were as feeble as this very little
+boy.
+
+See, he cannot hold up his head. He is forced to lie on his back, if his
+mamma do not turn him to the right or left side, he will soon begin to
+cry. He cries to tell her, that he is tired with lying on his back.
+
+
+LESSON VI.
+
+PERHAPS he is hungry. What shall we give him to eat? Poor fellow, he
+cannot eat. Look in his mouth, he has no teeth.
+
+How did you do when you were a baby like him? You cannot tell. Do you
+want to know? Look then at the dog, with her pretty puppy. You could not
+help yourself as well as the puppy. You could only open your mouth, when
+you were lying, like William, on my knee. So I put you to my breast, and
+you sucked, as the puppy sucks now, for there was milk enough for you.
+
+
+LESSON VII.
+
+WHEN you were hungry, you began to cry, because you could not speak. You
+were seven months without teeth, always sucking. But after you got one,
+you began to gnaw a crust of bread. It was not long before another came
+pop. At ten months you had four pretty white teeth, and you used to bite
+me. Poor mamma! Still I did not cry, because I am not a child, but you
+hurt me very much. So I said to papa, it is time the little girl should
+eat. She is not naughty, yet she hurts me. I have given her a crust of
+bread, and I must look for some other milk.
+
+The cow has got plenty, and her jumping calf eats grass very well. He has
+got more teeth than my little girl. Yes, says papa, and he tapped you on
+the cheek, you are old enough to learn to eat? Come to me, and I will
+teach you, my little dear, for you must not hurt poor mamma, who has
+given you her milk, when you could not take any thing else.
+
+
+LESSON VIII.
+
+YOU were then on the carpet, for you could not walk well. So when you
+were in a hurry, you used to run quick, quick, quick, on your hands and
+feet, like the dog.
+
+Away you ran to papa, and putting both your arms round his leg, for your
+hands were not big enough, you looked up at him, and laughed. What did
+this laugh say, when you could not speak? Cannot you guess by what you
+now say to papa?--Ah! it was, Play with me, papa!--play with me!
+
+Papa began to smile, and you knew that the smile was always--Yes. So you
+got a ball, and papa threw it along the floor--Roll--roll--roll; and you
+ran after it again--and again. How pleased you were. Look at William, he
+smiles; but you could laugh loud--Ha! ha! ha!--Papa laughed louder than
+the little girl, and rolled the ball still faster.
+
+Then he put the ball on a chair, and you were forced to take hold of the
+back, and stand up to reach it. At last you reached too far, and down you
+fell: not indeed on your face, because you put out your hands. You were
+not much hurt; but the palms of your hands smarted with the pain, and you
+began to cry, like a little child.
+
+It is only very little children who cry when they are hurt; and it is to
+tell their mamma, that something is the matter with them. Now you can
+come to me, and say, Mamma, I have hurt myself. Pray rub my hand: it
+smarts. Put something on it, to make it well. A piece of rag, to stop the
+blood. You are not afraid of a little blood--not you. You scratched your
+arm with a pin: it bled a little; but it did you no harm. See, the skin
+is grown over it again.
+
+
+LESSON IX.
+
+TAKE care not to put pins in your mouth, because they will stick in your
+throat, and give you pain. Oh! you cannot think what pain a pin would
+give you in your throat, should it remain there: but, if you by chance
+swallow it, I should be obliged to give you, every morning, something
+bitter to drink. You never tasted any thing so bitter! and you would grow
+very sick. I never put pins in my mouth; but I am older than you, and
+know how to take care of myself.
+
+My mamma took care of me, when I was a little girl, like you. She bade me
+never put any thing in my mouth, without asking her what it was.
+
+When you were a baby, with no more sense than William, you put every
+thing in your mouth to gnaw, to help your teeth to cut through the skin.
+Look at the puppy, how he bites that piece of wood. William presses his
+gums against my finger. Poor boy! he is so young, he does not know what
+he is doing. When you bite any thing, it is because you are hungry.
+
+
+LESSON X.
+
+SEE how much taller you are than William. In four years you have learned
+to eat, to walk, to talk. Why do you smile? You can do much more, you
+think: you can wash your hands and face. Very well. I should never kiss a
+dirty face. And you can comb your head with the pretty comb you always
+put by in your own drawer. To be sure, you do all this to be ready to
+take a walk with me. You would be obliged to stay at home, if you could
+not comb your own hair. Betty is busy getting the dinner ready, and only
+brushes William's hair, because he cannot do it for himself.
+
+Betty is making an apple-pye. You love an apple-pye; but I do not bid you
+make one. Your hands are not strong enough to mix the butter and flour
+together; and you must not try to pare the apples, because you cannot
+manage a great knife.
+
+Never touch the large knives: they are very sharp, and you might cut your
+finger to the bone. You are a little girl, and ought to have a little
+knife. When you are as tall as I am, you shall have a knife as large as
+mine; and when you are as strong as I am, and have learned to manage it,
+you will not hurt yourself.
+
+You can trundle a hoop, you say; and jump over a stick. O, I forgot!--and
+march like the men in the red coats, when papa plays a pretty tune on the
+fiddle.
+
+
+LESSON XI.
+
+WHAT, you think that you shall soon be able to dress yourself entirely? I
+am glad of it: I have something else to do. You may go, and look for your
+frock in the drawer; but I will tie it, till you are stronger. Betty will
+tie it, when I am busy.
+
+I button my gown myself: I do not want a maid to assist me, when I am
+dressing. But you have not yet got sense enough to do it properly, and
+must beg somebody to help you, till you are older.
+
+Children grow older and wiser at the same time. William is not able to
+take a piece of meat, because he has not got the sense which would make
+him think that, without teeth, meat would do him harm. He cannot tell
+what is good for him.
+
+The sense of children grows with them. You know much more than William,
+now you walk alone, and talk; but you do not know as much as the boys and
+girls you see playing yonder, who are half as tall again as you; and they
+do not know half as much as their fathers and mothers, who are men and
+women grown. Papa and I were children, like you; and men and women took
+care of us. I carry William, because he is too weak to walk. I lift you
+over a stile, and over the gutter, when you cannot jump over it.
+
+You know already, that potatoes will not do you any harm: but I must
+pluck the fruit for you, till you are wise enough to know the ripe apples
+and pears. The hard ones would make you sick, and then you must take
+physic. You do not love physic: I do not love it any more than you. But I
+have more sense than you; therefore I take care not to eat unripe fruit,
+or any thing else that would make my stomach ache, or bring out ugly red
+spots on my face.
+
+When I was a child, my mamma chose the fruit for me, to prevent my making
+myself sick. I was just like you; I used to ask for what I saw, without
+knowing whether it was good or bad. Now I have lived a long time, I know
+what is good; I do not want any body to tell me.
+
+
+LESSON XII.
+
+LOOK at those two dogs. The old one brings the ball to me in a moment;
+the young one does not know how. He must be taught.
+
+I can cut your shift in a proper shape. You would not know how to begin.
+You would spoil it; but you will learn.
+
+John digs in the garden, and knows when to put the seed in the ground.
+You cannot tell whether it should be in the winter or summer. Try to find
+it out. When do the trees put out their leaves? In the spring, you say,
+after the cold weather. Fruit would not grow ripe without very warm
+weather. Now I am sure you can guess why the summer is the season for
+fruit.
+
+Papa knows that peas and beans are good for us to eat with our meat. You
+are glad when you see them; but if he did not think for you, and have the
+seed put in the ground, we should have no peas or beans.
+
+
+LESSON XIII.
+
+POOR child, she cannot do much for herself. When I let her do any thing
+for me, it is to please her: for I could do it better myself.
+
+Oh! the poor puppy has tumbled off the stool. Run and stroak him. Put a
+little milk in a saucer to comfort him. You have more sense than he. You
+can pour the milk into the saucer without spilling it. He would cry for a
+day with hunger, without being able to get it. You are wiser than the
+dog, you must help him. The dog will love you for it, and run after you.
+I feed you and take care of you: you love me and follow me for it.
+
+When the book fell down on your foot, it gave you great pain. The poor
+dog felt the same pain just now.
+
+Take care not to hurt him when you play with him. And every morning leave
+a little milk in your bason for him. Do not forget to put the bason in a
+corner, lest somebody should fall over it.
+
+When the snow covers the ground, save the crumbs of bread for the birds.
+In the summer they find feed enough, and do not want you to think about
+them.
+
+I make broth for the poor man who is sick. A sick man is like a child, he
+cannot help himself.
+
+
+LESSON X.
+
+WHEN I caught cold some time ago, I had such a pain in my head, I could
+scarcely hold it up. Papa opened the door very softly, because he loves
+me. You love me, yet you made a noise. You had not the sense to know that
+it made my head worse, till papa told you.
+
+Papa had a pain in the stomach, and he would not eat the fine cherries or
+grapes on the table. When I brought him a cup of camomile tea, he drank
+it without saying a word, or making an ugly face. He knows that I love
+him, and that I would not give him any thing to drink that has a bad
+taste, if it were not to do him good.
+
+You asked me for some apples when your stomach ached; but I was not angry
+with you. If you had been as wise as papa, you would have said, I will
+not eat the apples to-day, I must take some camomile tea.
+
+You say that you do not know how to think. Yes; you do a little. The
+other day papa was tired; he had been walking about all the morning.
+After dinner he fell asleep on the sopha. I did not bid you be quiet; but
+you thought of what papa said to you, when my head ached. This made you
+think that you ought not to make a noise, when papa was resting himself.
+So you came to me, and said to me, very softly, Pray reach me my ball,
+and I will go and play in the garden, till papa wakes.
+
+You were going out; but thinking again, you came back to me on your
+tip-toes. Whisper----whisper. Pray mama, call me, when papa wakes; for I
+shall be afraid to open the door to see, lest I should disturb him.
+
+Away you went.--Creep--creep--and shut the door as softly as I could have
+done myself.
+
+That was thinking. When a child does wrong at first, she does not know
+any better. But, after she has been told that she must not disturb mama,
+when poor mama is unwell, she thinks herself, that she must not wake papa
+when he is tired.
+
+Another day we will see if you can think about any thing else.
+
+THE END.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[175-A] This title which is indorsed on the back of the manuscript, I
+conclude to have been written in a period of desperation, in the month of
+October, 1795.
+
+EDITOR.
+
+
+
+
+POSTHUMOUS WORKS
+
+OF THE
+
+AUTHOR
+
+OF A
+
+VINDICATION OF THE RIGHTS OF WOMAN.
+
+IN FOUR VOLUMES.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+VOL. III.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+_LONDON:_
+
+PRINTED FOR J. JOHNSON, NO. 72, ST. PAUL'S
+  CHURCH-YARD; AND G. G. AND J. ROBINSON,
+              PATERNOSTER-ROW.
+                   1798.
+
+
+LETTERS
+AND
+MISCELLANEOUS PIECES.
+
+
+IN TWO VOLUMES.
+
+
+
+VOL. I.
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE.
+
+
+THE following Letters may possibly be found to contain the finest
+examples of the language of sentiment and passion ever presented to the
+world. They bear a striking resemblance to the celebrated romance of
+Werter, though the incidents to which they relate are of a very different
+cast. Probably the readers to whom Werter is incapable of affording
+pleasure, will receive no delight from the present publication. The
+editor apprehends that, in the judgment of those best qualified to
+decide upon the comparison, these Letters will be admitted to have the
+superiority over the fiction of Goethe. They are the offspring of a
+glowing imagination, and a heart penetrated with the passion it essays to
+describe.
+
+To the series of letters constituting the principal article in these two
+volumes, are added various pieces, none of which, it is hoped, will be
+found discreditable to the talents of the author. The slight fragment of
+Letters on the Management of Infants, may be thought a trifle; but it
+seems to have some value, as presenting to us with vividness the
+intention of the writer on this important subject. The publication of a
+few select Letters to Mr. Johnson, appeared to be at once a just monument
+to the sincerity of his friendship, and a valuable and interesting
+specimen of the mind of the writer. The Letter on the Present Character
+of the French Nation, the Extract of the Cave of Fancy, a Tale, and the
+Hints for the Second Part of the Rights of Woman, may, I believe, safely
+be left to speak for themselves. The Essay on Poetry and our Relish for
+the Beauties of Nature, appeared in the Monthly Magazine for April last,
+and is the only piece in this collection which has previously found its
+way to the press.
+
+
+
+
+LETTERS.
+
+
+LETTER I.
+
+Two o'Clock.
+
+MY dear love, after making my arrangements for our snug dinner to-day, I
+have been taken by storm, and obliged to promise to dine, at an early
+hour, with the Miss ----s, the _only_ day they intend to pass here. I
+shall however leave the key in the door, and hope to find you at my
+fire-side when I return, about eight o'clock. Will you not wait for poor
+Joan?--whom you will find better, and till then think very
+affectionately of her.
+
+Yours, truly,
+
+* * * *
+
+I am sitting down to dinner; so do not send an answer.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER II.
+
+Past Twelve o'Clock, Monday night.
+
+[August.]
+
+I OBEY an emotion of my heart, which made me think of wishing thee, my
+love, good-night! before I go to rest, with more tenderness than I can
+to-morrow, when writing a hasty line or two under Colonel ----'s eye. You
+can scarcely imagine with what pleasure I anticipate the day, when we
+are to begin almost to live together; and you would smile to hear how
+many plans of employment I have in my head, now that I am confident my
+heart has found peace in your bosom.--Cherish me with that dignified
+tenderness, which I have only found in you; and your own dear girl will
+try to keep under a quickness of feeling, that has sometimes given you
+pain--Yes, I will be _good_, that I may deserve to be happy; and whilst
+you love me, I cannot again fall into the miserable state, which rendered
+life a burthen almost too heavy to be borne.
+
+But, good-night!--God bless you! Sterne says, that is equal to a
+kiss--yet I would rather give you the kiss into the bargain, glowing with
+gratitude to Heaven, and affection to you. I like the word affection,
+because it signifies something habitual; and we are soon to meet, to try
+whether we have mind enough to keep our hearts warm.
+
+* * * *
+
+I will be at the barrier a little after ten o'clock
+to-morrow[4-A].--Yours--
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER III.
+
+Wednesday Morning.
+
+YOU have often called me, dear girl, but you would now say good, did you
+know how very attentive I have been to the ---- ever since I came to
+Paris. I am not however going to trouble you with the account, because I
+like to see your eyes praise me; and, Milton insinuates, that, during
+such recitals, there are interruptions, not ungrateful to the heart, when
+the honey that drops from the lips is not merely words.
+
+Yet, I shall not (let me tell you before these people enter, to force me
+to huddle away my letter) be content with only a kiss of DUTY--you _must_
+be glad to see me--because you are glad--or I will make love to the
+_shade_ of Mirabeau, to whom my heart continually turned, whilst I was
+talking with Madame ----, forcibly telling me, that it will ever have
+sufficient warmth to love, whether I will or not, sentiment, though I so
+highly respect principle.----
+
+Not that I think Mirabeau utterly devoid of principles--Far from it--and,
+if I had not begun to form a new theory respecting men, I should, in the
+vanity of my heart, have _imagined_ that _I_ could have made something of
+his----it was composed of such materials--Hush! here they come--and love
+flies away in the twinkling of an eye, leaving a little brush of his wing
+on my pale cheeks.
+
+I hope to see Dr. ---- this morning; I am going to Mr. ----'s to meet
+him. ----, and some others, are invited to dine with us to-day; and
+to-morrow I am to spend the day with ----.
+
+I shall probably not be able to return to ---- to-morrow; but it is no
+matter, because I must take a carriage, I have so many books, that I
+immediately want, to take with me.--On Friday then I shall expect you to
+dine with me--and, if you come a little before dinner, it is so long
+since I have seen you, you will not be scolded by yours affectionately
+
+* * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER IV[7-A].
+
+Friday Morning [September.]
+
+A MAN, whom a letter from Mr. ----previously announced, called here
+yesterday for the payment of a draft; and, as he seemed disappointed at
+not finding you at home, I sent him to Mr. ----. I have since seen him,
+and he tells me that he has settled the business.
+
+So much for business!--May I venture to talk a little longer about less
+weighty affairs?--How are you?--I have been following you all along the
+road this comfortless weather; for, when I am absent from those I love,
+my imagination is as lively, as if my senses had never been gratified by
+their presence--I was going to say caresses--and why should I not? I have
+found out that I have more mind than you, in one respect; because I can,
+without any violent effort of reason, find food for love in the same
+object, much longer than you can.--The way to my senses is through my
+heart; but, forgive me! I think there is sometimes a shorter cut to
+yours.
+
+With ninety-nine men out of a hundred, a very sufficient dash of folly is
+necessary to render a woman _piquante_, a soft word for desirable; and,
+beyond these casual ebullitions of sympathy, few look for enjoyment by
+fostering a passion in their hearts. One reason, in short, why I wish my
+whole sex to become wiser, is, that the foolish ones may not, by their
+pretty folly, rob those whose sensibility keeps down their vanity, of the
+few roses that afford them some solace in the thorny road of life.
+
+I do not know how I fell into these reflections, excepting one thought
+produced it--that these continual separations were necessary to warm your
+affection.--Of late, we are always separating.--Crack!--crack!--and away
+you go.--This joke wears the sallow cast of thought; for, though I began
+to write cheerfully, some melancholy tears have found their way into my
+eyes, that linger there, whilst a glow of tenderness at my heart whispers
+that you are one of the best creatures in the world.--Pardon then the
+vagaries of a mind, that has been almost "crazed by care," as well as
+"crossed in hapless love," and bear with me a _little_ longer!--When we
+are settled in the country together, more duties will open before me, and
+my heart, which now, trembling into peace, is agitated by every emotion
+that awakens the remembrance of old griefs, will learn to rest on yours,
+with that dignity your character, not to talk of my own, demands.
+
+Take care of yourself--and write soon to your own girl (you may add dear,
+if you please) who sincerely loves you, and will try to convince you of
+it, by becoming happier.
+
+* * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER V.
+
+Sunday Night.
+
+I HAVE just received your letter, and feel as if I could not go to bed
+tranquilly without saying a few words in reply--merely to tell you, that
+my mind is serene, and my heart affectionate.
+
+Ever since you last saw me inclined to faint, I have felt some gentle
+twitches, which make me begin to think, that I am nourishing a creature
+who will soon be sensible of my care.--This thought has not only produced
+an overflowing of tenderness to you, but made me very attentive to calm
+my mind and take exercise, lest I should destroy an object, in whom we
+are to have a mutual interest, you know. Yesterday--do not
+smile!--finding that I had hurt myself by lifting precipitately a large
+log of wood, I sat down in an agony, till I felt those said twitches
+again.
+
+Are you very busy?
+--    --    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --    --
+So you may reckon on its being finished soon, though not before you come
+home, unless you are detained longer than I now allow myself to believe
+you will.--
+
+Be that as it may, write to me, my best love, and bid me be
+patient--kindly--and the expressions of kindness will again beguile the
+time, as sweetly as they have done to-night.--Tell me also over and over
+again, that your happiness (and you deserve to be happy!) is closely
+connected with mine, and I will try to dissipate, as they rise, the fumes
+of former discontent, that have too often clouded the sunshine, which you
+have endeavoured to diffuse through my mind. God bless you! Take care of
+yourself, and remember with tenderness your affectionate
+
+* * * *
+
+I am going to rest very happy, and you have made me so.--This is the
+kindest good-night I can utter.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER VI.
+
+Friday Morning.
+
+I AM glad to find that other people can be unreasonable, as well as
+myself--for be it known to thee, that I answered thy _first_ letter, the
+very night it reached me (Sunday), though thou couldst not receive it
+before Wednesday, because it was not sent off till the next day.--There
+is a full, true, and particular account.--
+
+Yet I am not angry with thee, my love, for I think that it is a proof of
+stupidity, and likewise of a milk-and-water affection, which comes to the
+same thing, when the temper is governed by a square and compass.--There
+is nothing picturesque in this straight-lined equality, and the passions
+always give grace to the actions.
+
+Recollection now makes my heart bound to thee; but, it is not to thy
+money-getting face, though I cannot be seriously displeased with the
+exertion which increases my esteem, or rather is what I should have
+expected from thy character.--No; I have thy honest countenance before
+me--Pop--relaxed by tenderness; a little--little wounded by my whims; and
+thy eyes glistening with sympathy.--Thy lips then feel softer than
+soft--and I rest my cheek on thine, forgetting all the world.--I have not
+left the hue of love out of the picture--the rosy glow; and fancy has
+spread it over my own cheeks, I believe, for I feel them burning, whilst
+a delicious tear trembles in my eye, that would be all your own, if a
+grateful emotion directed to the Father of nature, who has made me thus
+alive to happiness, did not give more warmth to the sentiment it
+divides--I must pause a moment.
+
+Need I tell you that I am tranquil after writing thus?--I do not know
+why, but I have more confidence in your affection, when absent, than
+present; nay, I think that you must love me, for, in the sincerity of my
+heart let me say it, I believe I deserve your tenderness, because I am
+true, and have a degree of sensibility that you can see and relish.
+
+Yours sincerely
+
+* * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER VII.
+
+Sunday Morning [December 29.]
+
+YOU seem to have taken up your abode at H----. Pray sir! when do you
+think of coming home? or, to write very considerately, when will business
+permit you? I shall expect (as the country people say in England) that
+you will make a _power_ of money to indemnify me for your absence.
+
+--    --    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --    --
+
+Well! but, my love, to the old story--am I to see you this week, or this
+month?--I do not know what you are about--for, as you did not tell me, I
+would not ask Mr. ----, who is generally pretty communicative.
+
+I long to see Mrs. ------; not to hear from you, so do not give yourself
+airs, but to get a letter from Mr. ----. And I am half angry with you for
+not informing me whether she had brought one with her or not.--On this
+score I will cork up some of the kind things that were ready to drop from
+my pen, which has never been dipt in gall when addressing you; or, will
+only suffer an exclamation--"The creature!" or a kind look, to escape me,
+when I pass the slippers--which I could not remove from my _salle_ door,
+though they are not the handsomest of their kind.
+
+Be not too anxious to get money!--for nothing worth having is to be
+purchased. God bless you.
+
+Yours affectionately
+
+* * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER VIII.
+
+Monday Night [December 30.]
+
+MY best love, your letter to-night was particularly grateful to my heart,
+depressed by the letters I received by ----, for he brought me several,
+and the parcel of books directed to Mr. ------ was for me. Mr. ------'s
+letter was long and very affectionate; but the account he gives me of his
+own affairs, though he obviously makes the best of them, has vexed me.
+
+A melancholy letter from my sister ------ has also harrassed my
+mind--that from my brother would have given me sincere pleasure; but for
+--    --    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --    --
+There is a spirit of independence in his letter, that will please you;
+and you shall see it, when we are once more over the fire together.--I
+think that you would hail him as a brother, with one of your tender
+looks, when your heart not only gives a lustre to your eye, but a dance
+of playfulness, that he would meet with a glow half made up of
+bashfulness, and a desire to please the----where shall I find a word to
+express the relationship which subsists between us?--Shall I ask the
+little twitcher?--But I have dropt half the sentence that was to tell you
+how much he would be inclined to love the man loved by his sister. I have
+been fancying myself sitting between you, ever since I began to write,
+and my heart has leaped at the thought!--You see how I chat to you.
+
+I did not receive your letter till I came home; and I did not expect it,
+for the post came in much later than usual. It was a cordial to me--and I
+wanted one.
+
+Mr. ---- tells me that he has written again and again.--Love him a
+little!--It would be a kind of separation, if you did not love those I
+love.
+
+There was so much considerate tenderness in your epistle to-night, that,
+if it has not made you dearer to me, it has made me forcibly feel how
+very dear you are to me, by charming away half my cares.
+
+Yours affectionately
+
+* * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER IX.
+
+Tuesday Morning [December 31.]
+
+THOUGH I have just sent a letter off, yet, as captain ---- offers to take
+one, I am not willing to let him go without a kind greeting, because
+trifles of this sort, without having any effect on my mind, damp my
+spirits:--and you, with all your struggles to be manly, have some of this
+same sensibility.--Do not bid it begone, for I love to see it striving to
+master your features; besides, these kind of sympathies are the life of
+affection: and why, in cultivating our understandings, should we try to
+dry up these springs of pleasure, which gush out to give a freshness to
+days browned by care!
+
+The books sent to me are such as we may read together; so I shall not
+look into them till you return; when you shall read, whilst I mend my
+stockings.
+
+Yours truly
+
+* * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER X.
+
+Wednesday Night [January 1.]
+
+AS I have been, you tell me, three days without writing, I ought not to
+complain of two: yet, as I expected to receive a letter this afternoon, I
+am hurt; and why should I, by concealing it, affect the heroism I do not
+feel?
+
+I hate commerce. How differently must ------'s head and heart be
+organized from mine! You will tell me, that exertions are necessary: I am
+weary of them! The face of things, public and private, vexes me. The
+"peace" and clemency which seemed to be dawning a few days ago, disappear
+again. "I am fallen," as Milton said, "on evil days;" for I really
+believe that Europe will be in a state of convulsion, during half a
+century at least. Life is but a labour of patience: it is always rolling
+a great stone up a hill; for, before a person can find a resting-place,
+imagining it is lodged, down it comes again, and all the work is to be
+done over anew!
+
+Should I attempt to write any more, I could not change the strain. My
+head aches, and my heart is heavy. The world appears an "unweeded
+garden," where "things rank and vile" flourish best.
+
+If you do not return soon--or, which is no such mighty matter, talk of
+it--I will throw your slippers out at window, and be off--nobody knows
+where.
+
+* * * *
+
+Finding that I was observed, I told the good women, the two Mrs. ----s,
+simply that I was with child: and let them stare! and ------, and ------,
+nay, all the world, may know it for aught I care!--Yet I wish to avoid
+------'s coarse jokes.
+
+Considering the care and anxiety a woman must have about a child before
+it comes into the world, it seems to me, by a _natural right_, to belong
+to her. When men get immersed in the world, they seem to lose all
+sensations, excepting those necessary to continue or produce life!--Are
+these the privileges of reason? Amongst the feathered race, whilst the
+hen keeps the young warm, her mate stays by to cheer her; but it is
+sufficient for man to condescend to get a child, in order to claim it.--A
+man is a tyrant!
+
+You may now tell me, that, if it were not for me, you would be laughing
+away with some honest fellows in L--n. The casual exercise of social
+sympathy would not be sufficient for me--I should not think such an
+heartless life worth preserving.--It is necessary to be in good-humour
+with you, to be pleased with the world.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Thursday Morning.
+
+I WAS very low-spirited last night, ready to quarrel with your cheerful
+temper, which makes absence easy to you.--And, why should I mince the the
+matter? I was offended at your not even mentioning it.--I do not want to
+be loved like a goddess; but I wish to be necessary to you. God bless
+you[27-A]!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER XI.
+
+Monday Night.
+
+I HAVE just received your kind and rational letter, and would fain hide
+my face, glowing with shame for my folly.--I would hide it in your bosom,
+if you would again open it to me, and nestle closely till you bade my
+fluttering heart be still, by saying that you forgave me. With eyes
+overflowing with tears, and in the humblest attitude, I intreat you.--Do
+not turn from me, for indeed I love you fondly, and have been very
+wretched, since the night I was so cruelly hurt by thinking that you had
+no confidence in me----
+
+It is time for me to grow more reasonable, a few more of these caprices
+of sensibility would destroy me. I have, in fact, been very much
+indisposed for a few days past, and the notion that I was tormenting, or
+perhaps killing, a poor little animal, about whom I am grown anxious and
+tender, now I feel it alive, made me worse. My bowels have been
+dreadfully disordered, and every thing I ate or drank disagreed with my
+stomach; still I feel intimations of its existence, though they have been
+fainter.
+
+Do you think that the creature goes regularly to sleep? I am ready to ask
+as many questions as Voltaire's Man of Forty Crowns. Ah! do not continue
+to be angry with me! You perceive that I am already smiling through my
+tears--You have lightened my heart, and my frozen spirits are melting
+into playfulness.
+
+Write the moment you receive this. I shall count the minutes. But drop
+not an angry word--I cannot now bear it. Yet, if you think I deserve a
+scolding (it does not admit of a question, I grant), wait till you come
+back--and then, if you are angry one day, I shall be sure of seeing you
+the next.
+
+------ did not write to you, I suppose, because he talked of going to
+H----. Hearing that I was ill, he called very kindly on me, not dreaming
+that it was some words that he incautiously let fall, which rendered me
+so.
+
+God bless you, my love; do not shut your heart against a return of
+tenderness; and, as I now in fancy cling to you, be more than ever my
+support.--Feel but as affectionate when you read this letter, as I did
+writing it, and you will make happy, your
+
+* * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER XII.
+
+Wednesday Morning.
+
+I WILL never, if I am not entirely cured of quarrelling, begin to
+encourage "quick-coming fancies," when we are separated. Yesterday, my
+love, I could not open your letter for some time; and, though it was not
+half as severe as I merited, it threw me into such a fit of trembling, as
+seriously alarmed me. I did not, as you may suppose, care for a little
+pain on my own account; but all the fears which I have had for a few days
+past, returned with fresh force. This morning I am better; will you not
+be glad to hear it? You perceive that sorrow has almost made a child of
+me, and that I want to be soothed to peace.
+
+One thing you mistake in my character, and imagine that to be coldness
+which is just the contrary. For, when I am hurt by the person most dear
+to me, I must let out a whole torrent of emotions, in which tenderness
+would be uppermost, or stifle them altogether; and it appears to me
+almost a duty to stifle them, when I imagine _that I am treated with
+coldness_.
+
+I am afraid that I have vexed you, my own ----. I know the quickness of
+your feelings--and let me, in the sincerity of my heart, assure you,
+there is nothing I would not suffer to make you happy. My own happiness
+wholly depends on you--and, knowing you, when my reason is not clouded, I
+look forward to a rational prospect of as much felicity as the earth
+affords--with a little dash of rapture into the bargain, if you will look
+at me, when we meet again, as you have sometimes greeted, your humbled,
+yet most affectionate
+
+* * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER XIII.
+
+Thursday Night.
+
+I HAVE been wishing the time away, my kind love, unable to rest till I
+knew that my penitential letter had reached your hand--and this
+afternoon, when your tender epistle of Tuesday gave such exquisite
+pleasure to your poor sick girl, her heart smote her to think that you
+were still to receive another cold one.--Burn it also, my ----; yet do
+not forget that even those letters were full of love; and I shall ever
+recollect, that you did not wait to be mollified by my penitence, before
+you took me again to your heart.
+
+I have been unwell, and would not, now I am recovering, take a journey,
+because I have been seriously alarmed and angry with myself, dreading
+continually the fatal consequence of my folly.--But, should you think it
+right to remain at H--, I shall find some opportunity, in the course of a
+fortnight, or less perhaps, to come to you, and before then I shall be
+strong again.--Yet do not be uneasy! I am really better, and never took
+such care of myself, as I have done since you restored my peace of mind.
+The girl is come to warm my bed--so I will tenderly say, good night! and
+write a line or two in the morning.
+
+Morning.
+
+I WISH you were here to walk with me this fine morning! yet your absence
+shall not prevent me. I have stayed at home too much; though, when I was
+so dreadfully out of spirits, I was careless of every thing.
+
+I will now sally forth (you will go with me in my heart) and try whether
+this fine bracing air will not give the vigour to the poor babe, it had,
+before I so inconsiderately gave way to the grief that deranged my
+bowels, and gave a turn to my whole system.
+
+Yours truly
+
+* * * *  * * * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER XIV.
+
+Saturday Morning.
+
+THE two or three letters, which I have written to you lately, my love,
+will serve as an answer to your explanatory one. I cannot but respect
+your motives and conduct. I always respected them; and was only hurt, by
+what seemed to me a want of confidence, and consequently affection.--I
+thought also, that if you were obliged to stay three months at H--, I
+might as well have been with you.--Well! well, what signifies what I
+brooded over--Let us now be friends!
+
+I shall probably receive a letter from you to-day, sealing my pardon--and
+I will be careful not to torment you with my querulous humours, at
+least, till I see you again. Act as circumstances direct, and I will not
+enquire when they will permit you to return, convinced that you will
+hasten to your * * * *, when you have attained (or lost sight of) the
+object of your journey.
+
+What a picture have you sketched of our fire-side! Yes, my love, my fancy
+was instantly at work, and I found my head on your shoulder, whilst my
+eyes were fixed on the little creatures that were clinging about your
+knees. I did not absolutely determine that there should be six--if you
+have not set your heart on this round number.
+
+I am going to dine with Mrs. ----. I have not been to visit her since the
+first day she came to Paris. I wish indeed to be out in the air as much
+as I can; for the exercise I have taken these two or three days past,
+has been of such service to me, that I hope shortly to tell you, that I
+am quite well. I have scarcely slept before last night, and then not
+much.--The two Mrs. ------s have been very anxious and tender.
+
+Yours truly
+
+* * * *
+
+I need not desire you to give the colonel a good bottle of wine.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER XV.
+
+Sunday Morning.
+
+I WROTE to you yesterday, my ----; but, finding that the colonel is still
+detained (for his passport was forgotten at the office yesterday) I am
+not willing to let so many days elapse without your hearing from me,
+after having talked of illness and apprehensions.
+
+I cannot boast of being quite recovered, yet I am (I must use my
+Yorkshire phrase; for, when my heart is warm, pop come the expressions of
+childhood into my head) so _lightsome_, that I think it will not _go
+badly with me_.--And nothing shall be wanting on my part, I assure you;
+for I am urged on, not only by an enlivened affection for you, but by a
+new-born tenderness that plays cheerly round my dilating heart.
+
+I was therefore, in defiance of cold and dirt, out in the air the greater
+part of yesterday; and, if I get over this evening without a return of
+the fever that has tormented me, I shall talk no more of illness. I have
+promised the little creature, that its mother, who ought to cherish it,
+will not again plague it, and begged it to pardon me; and, since I could
+not hug either it or you to my breast, I have to my heart.--I am afraid
+to read over this prattle--but it is only for your eye.
+
+I have been seriously vexed, to find that, whilst you were harrassed by
+impediments in your undertakings, I was giving you additional
+uneasiness.--If you can make any of your plans answer--it is well, I do
+not think a _little_ money inconvenient; but, should they fail, we will
+struggle cheerfully together--drawn closer by the pinching blasts of
+poverty.
+
+Adieu, my love! Write often to your poor girl, and write long letters;
+for I not only like them for being longer, but because more heart steals
+into them; and I am happy to catch your heart whenever I can.
+
+Yours sincerely
+
+* * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER XVI.
+
+Tuesday Morning.
+
+I SEIZE this opportunity to inform you, that I am to set out on Thursday
+with Mr. ------, and hope to tell you soon (on your lips) how glad I
+shall be to see you. I have just got my passport, so I do not foresee any
+impediment to my reaching H----, to bid you good-night next Friday in my
+new apartment--where I am to meet you and love, in spite of care, to
+smile me to sleep--for I have not caught much rest since we parted.
+
+You have, by your tenderness and worth, twisted yourself more artfully
+round my heart, than I supposed possible.--Let me indulge the thought,
+that I have thrown out some tendrils to cling to the elm by which I wish
+to be supported.--This is talking a new language for me!--But, knowing
+that I am not a parasite-plant, I am willing to receive the proofs of
+affection, that every pulse replies to, when I think of being once more
+in the same house with you.--God bless you!
+
+Yours truly
+
+* * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER XVII.
+
+Wednesday Morning.
+
+I ONLY send this as an _avant-coureur_, without jack-boots, to tell you,
+that I am again on the wing, and hope to be with you a few hours after
+you receive it. I shall find you well, and composed, I am sure; or, more
+properly speaking, cheerful.--What is the reason that my spirits are not
+as manageable as yours? Yet, now I think of it, I will not allow that
+your temper is even, though I have promised myself, in order to obtain my
+own forgiveness, that I will not ruffle it for a long, long time--I am
+afraid to say never.
+
+Farewell for a moment!--Do not forget that I am driving towards you in
+person! My mind, unfettered, has flown to you long since, or rather has
+never left you.
+
+I am well, and have no apprehension that I shall find the journey too
+fatiguing, when I follow the lead of my heart.--With my face turned to
+H--my spirits will not sink--and my mind has always hitherto enabled my
+body to do whatever I wished.
+
+Yours affectionately
+
+* * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER XVIII.
+
+H--, Thursday Morning, March 12.
+
+WE are such creatures of habit, my love, that, though I cannot say I was
+sorry, childishly so, for your going, when I knew that you were to stay
+such a short time, and I had a plan of employment; yet I could not
+sleep.--I turned to your side of the bed, and tried to make the most of
+the comfort of the pillow, which you used to tell me I was churlish
+about; but all would not do.--I took nevertheless my walk before
+breakfast, though the weather was not very inviting--and here I am,
+wishing you a finer day, and seeing you peep over my shoulder, as I
+write, with one of your kindest looks--when your eyes glisten, and a
+suffusion creeps over your relaxing features.
+
+But I do not mean to dally with you this morning--So God bless you! Take
+care of yourself--and sometimes fold to your heart your affectionate
+
+* * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER XIX.
+
+DO not call me stupid, for leaving on the table the little bit of paper I
+was to inclose.--This comes of being in love at the fag-end of a letter
+of business.--You know, you say, they will not chime together.--I had got
+you by the fire-side, with the _gigot_ smoking on the board, to lard your
+poor bare ribs--and behold, I closed my letter without taking the paper
+up, that was directly under my eyes!--What had I got in them to render me
+so blind?--I give you leave to answer the question, if you will not
+scold; for I am
+
+Yours most affectionately
+
+* * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER XX.
+
+Sunday, August 17.
+
+--    --    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --    --
+
+I have promised ------ to go with him to his country-house, where he is
+now permitted to dine--I, and the little darling, to be sure[47-A]--whom
+I cannot help kissing with more fondness, since you left us. I think I
+shall enjoy the fine prospect, and that it will rather enliven, than
+satiate my imagination.
+
+I have called on Mrs. ------. She has the manners of a gentlewoman, with
+a dash of the easy French coquetry, which renders her _piquante_.--But
+_Monsieur_ her husband, whom nature never dreamed of casting in either
+the mould of a gentleman or lover, makes but an aukward figure in the
+foreground of the picture.
+
+The H----s are very ugly, without doubt--and the house smelt of commerce
+from top to toe--so that his abortive attempt to display taste, only
+proved it to be one of the things not to be bought with gold. I was in a
+room a moment alone, and my attention was attracted by the _pendule_--A
+nymph was offering up her vows before a smoking altar, to a fat-bottomed
+Cupid (saving your presence), who was kicking his heels in the air.--Ah!
+kick on, thought I; for the demon of traffic will ever fright away the
+loves and graces, that streak with the rosy beams of infant fancy the
+_sombre_ day of life--whilst the imagination, not allowing us to see
+things as they are, enables us to catch a hasty draught of the running
+stream of delight, the thirst for which seems to be given only to
+tantalize us.
+
+But I am philosophizing; nay, perhaps you will call me severe, and bid me
+let the square-headed money-getters alone.--Peace to them! though none of
+the social sprites (and there are not a few of different descriptions,
+who sport about the various inlets to my heart) gave me a twitch to
+restrain my pen.
+
+I have been writing on, expecting poor ------ to come; for, when I began,
+I merely thought of business; and, as this is the idea that most
+naturally associates with your image, I wonder I stumbled on any other.
+
+Yet, as common life, in my opinion, is scarcely worth having, even with a
+_gigot_ every day, and a pudding added thereunto, I will allow you to
+cultivate my judgment, if you will permit me to keep alive the sentiments
+in your heart, which may be termed romantic, because, the offspring of
+the senses and the imagination, they resemble the mother more than the
+father[50-A], when they produce the suffusion I admire.--In spite of icy
+age, I hope still to see it, if you have not determined only to eat and
+drink, and be stupidly useful to the stupid--
+
+Yours
+
+* * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER XXI.
+
+H--, August 19, Tuesday.
+
+I RECEIVED both your letters to-day--I had reckoned on hearing from you
+yesterday, therefore was disappointed, though I imputed your silence to
+the right cause. I intended answering your kind letter immediately, that
+you might have felt the pleasure it gave me; but ------ came in, and
+some other things interrupted me; so that the fine vapour has
+evaporated--yet, leaving a sweet scent behind, I have only to tell you,
+what is sufficiently obvious, that the earnest desire I have shown to
+keep my place, or gain more ground in your heart, is a sure proof how
+necessary your affection is to my happiness.--Still I do not think it
+false delicacy, or foolish pride, to wish that your attention to my
+happiness should arise _as much_ from love, which is always rather a
+selfish passion, as reason--that is, I want you to promote my felicity,
+by seeking your own.--For, whatever pleasure it may give me to discover
+your generosity of soul, I would not be dependent for your affection on
+the very quality I most admire. No; there are qualities in your heart,
+which demand my affection; but, unless the attachment appears to me
+clearly mutual, I shall labour only to esteem your character, instead of
+cherishing a tenderness for your person.
+
+I write in a hurry, because the little one, who has been sleeping a long
+time, begins to call for me. Poor thing! when I am sad, I lament that all
+my affections grow on me, till they become too strong for my peace,
+though they all afford me snatches of exquisite enjoyment--This for our
+little girl was at first very reasonable--more the effect of reason, a
+sense of duty, than feeling--now, she has got into my heart and
+imagination, and when I walk out without her, her little figure is ever
+dancing before me.
+
+You too have somehow clung round my heart--I found I could not eat my
+dinner in the great room--and, when I took up the large knife to carve
+for myself, tears rushed into my eyes.--Do not however suppose that I am
+melancholy--for, when you are from me, I not only wonder how I can find
+fault with you--but how I can doubt your affection.
+
+I will not mix any comments on the inclosed (it roused my indignation)
+with the effusion of tenderness, with which I assure you, that you are
+the friend of my bosom, and the prop of my heart.
+
+* * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER XXII.
+
+H--, August 20.
+
+I WANT to know what steps you have taken respecting ----. Knavery always
+rouses my indignation--I should be gratified to hear that the law had
+chastised ------ severely; but I do not wish you to see him, because the
+business does not now admit of peaceful discussion, and I do not exactly
+know how you would express your contempt.
+
+Pray ask some questions about Tallien--I am still pleased with the
+dignity of his conduct.--The other day, in the cause of humanity, he made
+use of a degree of address, which I admire--and mean to point out to
+you, as one of the few instances of address which do credit to the
+abilities of the man, without taking away from that confidence in his
+openness of heart, which is the true basis of both public and private
+friendship.
+
+Do not suppose that I mean to allude to a little reserve of temper in
+you, of which I have sometimes complained! You have been used to a
+cunning woman, and you almost look for cunning--Nay, in _managing_ my
+happiness, you now and then wounded my sensibility, concealing yourself,
+till honest sympathy, giving you to me without disguise, lets me look
+into a heart, which my half-broken one wishes to creep into, to be
+revived and cherished.----You have frankness of heart, but not often
+exactly that overflowing (_épanchement de coeur_), which becoming almost
+childish, appears a weakness only to the weak.
+
+But I have left poor Tallien. I wanted you to enquire likewise whether,
+as a member declared in the convention, Robespierre really maintained a
+_number_ of mistresses.--Should it prove so, I suspect that they rather
+flattered his vanity than his senses.
+
+Here is a chatting, desultory epistle! But do not suppose that I mean to
+close it without mentioning the little damsel--who has been almost
+springing out of my arm--she certainly looks very like you--but I do not
+love her the less for that, whether I am angry or pleased with you.--
+
+Yours affectionately
+
+* * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER XXIII[58-A].
+
+September 22.
+
+I HAVE just written two letters, that are going by other conveyances, and
+which I reckon on your receiving long before this. I therefore merely
+write, because I know I should be disappointed at seeing any one who had
+left you, if you did not send a letter, were it ever so short, to tell me
+why you did not write a longer--and you will want to be told, over and
+over again, that our little Hercules is quite recovered.
+
+Besides looking at me, there are three other things, which delight
+her--to ride in a coach, to look at a scarlet waistcoat, and hear loud
+music--yesterday, at the _fête_, she enjoyed the two latter; but, to
+honour J. J. Rousseau, I intend to give her a sash, the first she has
+ever had round her--and why not?--for I have always been half in love
+with him.
+
+Well, this you will say is trifling--shall I talk about alum or soap?
+There is nothing picturesque in your present pursuits; my imagination
+then rather chuses to ramble back to the barrier with you, or to see you
+coming to meet me, and my basket of grapes.--With what pleasure do I
+recollect your looks and words, when I have been sitting on the window,
+regarding the waving corn!
+
+Believe me, sage sir, you have not sufficient respect for the
+imagination--I could prove to you in a trice that it is the mother of
+sentiment, the great distinction of our nature, the only purifier of the
+passions--animals have a portion of reason, and equal, if not more
+exquisite, senses; but no trace of imagination, or her offspring taste,
+appears in any of their actions. The impulse of the senses, passions, if
+you will, and the conclusions of reason, draw men together; but the
+imagination is the true fire, stolen from heaven, to animate this cold
+creature of clay, producing all those fine sympathies that lead to
+rapture, rendering men social by expanding their hearts, instead of
+leaving them leisure to calculate how many comforts society affords.
+
+If you call these observations romantic, a phrase in this place which
+would be tantamount to nonsensical, I shall be apt to retort, that you
+are embruted by trade, and the vulgar enjoyments of life--Bring me then
+back your barrier-face, or you shall have nothing to say to my
+barrier-girl; and I shall fly from you, to cherish the remembrances that
+will ever be dear to me; for I am yours truly
+
+* * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER XXIV.
+
+Evening, Sept. 23.
+
+I HAVE been playing and laughing with the little girl so long, that I
+cannot take up my pen to address you without emotion. Pressing her to my
+bosom, she looked so like you (_entre nous_, your best looks, for I do
+not admire your commercial face) every nerve seemed to vibrate to the
+touch, and I began to think that there was something in the assertion of
+man and wife being one--for you seemed to pervade my whole frame,
+quickening the beat of my heart, and lending me the sympathetic tears you
+excited.
+
+Have I any thing more to say to you? No; not for the present--the rest is
+all flown away; and, indulging tenderness for you, I cannot now complain
+of some people here, who have ruffled my temper for two or three days
+past.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Morning.
+
+YESTERDAY B---- sent to me for my packet of letters. He called on me
+before; and I like him better than I did--that is, I have the same
+opinion of his understanding, but I think with you, he has more
+tenderness and real delicacy of feeling with respect to women, than are
+commonly to be met with. His manner too of speaking of his little girl,
+about the age of mine, interested me. I gave him a letter for my sister,
+and requested him to see her.
+
+I have been interrupted. Mr. ----I suppose will write about business.
+Public affairs I do not descant on, except to tell you that they write
+now with great freedom and truth, and this liberty of the press will
+overthrow the Jacobins, I plainly perceive.
+
+I hope you take care of your health. I have got a habit of restlessness
+at night, which arises, I believe, from activity of mind; for, when I am
+alone, that is, not near one to whom I can open my heart, I sink into
+reveries and trains of thinking, which agitate and fatigue me.
+
+This is my third letter; when am I to hear from you? I need not tell you,
+I suppose, that I am now writing with somebody in the room with me, and
+---- is waiting to carry this to Mr. ----'s. I will then kiss the girl
+for you, and bid you adieu.
+
+I desired you, in one of my other letters, to bring back to me your
+barrier-face--or that you should not be loved by my barrier-girl. I know
+that you will love her more and more, for she is a little affectionate,
+intelligent creature, with as much vivacity, I should think, as you could
+wish for.
+
+I was going to tell you of two or three things which displease me here;
+but they are not of sufficient consequence to interrupt pleasing
+sensations. I have received a letter from Mr. ----. I want you to bring
+----with you. Madame S---- is by me, reading a German translation of your
+letters--she desires me to give her love to you, on account of what you
+say of the negroes.
+
+Yours most affectionately,
+
+* * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER XXV.
+
+Paris, Sept. 28.
+
+I HAVE written to you three or four letters; but different causes have
+prevented my sending them by the persons who promised to take or forward
+them. The inclosed is one I wrote to go by B----; yet, finding that he
+will not arrive, before I hope, and believe, you will have set out on
+your return, I inclose it to you, and shall give it in charge to ----, as
+Mr. ---- is detained, to whom I also gave a letter.
+
+I cannot help being anxious to hear from you; but I shall not harrass you
+with accounts of inquietudes, or of cares that arise from peculiar
+circumstances.--I have had so many little plagues here, that I have
+almost lamented that I left H----. ----, who is at best a most helpless
+creature, is now, on account of her pregnancy, more trouble than use to
+me, so that I still continue to be almost a slave to the child.--She
+indeed rewards me, for she is a sweet little creature; for, setting aside
+a mother's fondness (which, by the bye, is growing on me, her little
+intelligent smiles sinking into my heart), she has an astonishing degree
+of sensibility and observation. The other day by B----'s child, a fine
+one, she looked like a little sprite.--She is all life and motion, and
+her eyes are not the eyes of a fool--I will swear.
+
+I slept at St. Germain's, in the very room (if you have not forgot) in
+which you pressed me very tenderly to your heart.--I did not forget to
+fold my darling to mine, with sensations that are almost too sacred to
+be alluded to.
+
+Adieu, my love! Take care of yourself, if you wish to be the protector of
+your child, and the comfort of her mother.
+
+I have received, for you, letters from --------. I want to hear how that
+affair finishes, though I do not know whether I have most contempt for
+his folly or knavery.
+
+Your own
+
+* * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER XXVI.
+
+October 1.
+
+IT is a heartless task to write letters, without knowing whether they
+will ever reach you.--I have given two to ----, who has been a-going,
+a-going, every day, for a week past; and three others, which were written
+in a low-spirited strain, a little querulous or so, I have not been able
+to forward by the opportunities that were mentioned to me. _Tant mieux!_
+you will say, and I will not say nay; for I should be sorry that the
+contents of a letter, when you are so far away, should damp the pleasure
+that the sight of it would afford--judging of your feelings by my own. I
+just now stumbled on one of the kind letters, which you wrote during your
+last absence. You are then a dear affectionate creature, and I will not
+plague you. The letter which you chance to receive, when the absence is
+so long, ought to bring only tears of tenderness, without any bitter
+alloy, into your eyes.
+
+After your return I hope indeed, that you will not be so immersed in
+business, as during the last three or four months past--for even money,
+taking into the account all the future comforts it is to procure, may be
+gained at too dear a rate, if painful impressions are left on the
+mind.--These impressions were much more lively, soon after you went away,
+than at present--for a thousand tender recollections efface the
+melancholy traces they left on my mind--and every emotion is on the same
+side as my reason, which always was on yours.--Separated, it would be
+almost impious to dwell on real or imaginary imperfections of
+character.--I feel that I love you; and, if I cannot be happy with you, I
+will seek it no where else.
+
+My little darling grows every day more dear to me--and she often has a
+kiss, when we are alone together, which I give her for you, with all my
+heart.
+
+I have been interrupted--and must send off my letter. The liberty of the
+press will produce a great effect here--the _cry of blood will not be
+vain_!--Some more monsters will perish--and the Jacobins are
+conquered.--Yet I almost fear the last slap of the tail of the beast.
+
+I have had several trifling teazing inconveniencies here, which I shall
+not now trouble you with a detail of.--I am sending ---- back; her
+pregnancy rendered her useless. The girl I have got has more vivacity,
+which is better for the child.
+
+I long to hear from you.--Bring a copy of ---- and ---- with you.
+
+---- is still here: he is a lost man.--He really loves his wife, and is
+anxious about his children; but his indiscriminate hospitality and social
+feelings have given him an inveterate habit of drinking, that destroys
+his health, as well as renders his person disgusting.--If his wife had
+more sense, or delicacy, she might restrain him: as it is, nothing will
+save him.
+
+Yours most truly and affectionately
+
+* * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER XXVII.
+
+October 26.
+
+MY dear love, I began to wish so earnestly to hear from you, that the
+sight of your letters occasioned such pleasurable emotions, I was obliged
+to throw them aside till the little girl and I were alone together; and
+this said little girl, our darling, is become a most intelligent little
+creature, and as gay as a lark, and that in the morning too, which I do
+not find quite so convenient. I once told you, that the sensations before
+she was born, and when she is sucking, were pleasant; but they do not
+deserve to be compared to the emotions I feel, when she stops to smile
+upon me, or laughs outright on meeting me unexpectedly in the street, or
+after a short absence. She has now the advantage of having two good
+nurses, and I am at present able to discharge my duty to her, without
+being the slave of it.
+
+I have therefore employed and amused myself since I got rid of ----, and
+am making a progress in the language amongst other things. I have also
+made some new acquaintance. I have almost _charmed_ a judge of the
+tribunal, R----, who, though I should not have thought it possible, has
+humanity, if not _beaucoup d'esprit_. But let me tell you, if you do not
+make haste back, I shall be half in love with the author of the
+_Marseillaise_, who is a handsome man, a little too broad-faced or so,
+and plays sweetly on the violin.
+
+What do you say to this threat?--why, _entre nous_, I like to give way to
+a sprightly vein, when writing to you, that is, when I am pleased with
+you. "The devil," you know, is proverbially said to be "in a good humour,
+when he is pleased." Will you not then be a good boy, and come back
+quickly to play with your girls? but I shall not allow you to love the
+new-comer best.
+
+--    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --
+
+My heart longs for your return, my love, and only looks for, and seeks
+happiness with you; yet do not imagine that I childishly wish you to come
+back, before you have arranged things in such a manner, that it will not
+be necessary for you to leave us soon again; or to make exertions which
+injure your constitution.
+
+Yours most truly and tenderly
+
+* * * *
+
+P.S. "You would oblige me by delivering the inclosed to Mr. ----, and
+pray call for an answer.--It is for a person uncomfortably situated.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER XXVIII.
+
+Dec. 26.
+
+I HAVE been, my love, for some days tormented by fears, that I would not
+allow to assume a form--I had been expecting you daily--and I heard that
+many vessels had been driven on shore during the late gale.--Well, I now
+see your letter--and find that you are safe; I will not regret then that
+your exertions have hitherto been so unavailing.
+
+--    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --
+
+Be that as it may, return to me when you have arranged the other matters,
+which ---- has been crowding on you. I want to be sure that you are
+safe--and not separated from me by a sea that must be passed. For,
+feeling that I am happier than I ever was, do you wonder at my sometimes
+dreading that fate has not done persecuting me? Come to me, my dearest
+friend, husband, father of my child!--All these fond ties glow at my
+heart at this moment, and dim my eyes.--With you an independence is
+desirable; and it is always within our reach, if affluence escapes
+us--without you the world again appears empty to me. But I am recurring
+to some of the melancholy thoughts that have flitted across my mind for
+some days past, and haunted my dreams.
+
+My little darling is indeed a sweet child; and I am sorry that you are
+not here, to see her little mind unfold itself. You talk of "dalliance;"
+but certainly no lover was ever more attached to his mistress, than she
+is to me. Her eyes follow me every where, and by affection I have the
+most despotic power over her. She is all vivacity or softness--yes; I
+love her more than I thought I should. When I have been hurt at your
+stay, I have embraced her as my only comfort--when pleased with you, for
+looking and laughing like you; nay, I cannot, I find, long be angry with
+you, whilst I am kissing her for resembling you. But there would be no
+end to these details. Fold us both to your heart; for I am truly and
+affectionately
+
+Yours
+
+* * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER XXIX.
+
+December 28.
+
+--    --    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --    --
+
+I do, my love, indeed sincerely sympathize with you in all your
+disappointments.--Yet, knowing that you are well, and think of me with
+affection, I only lament other disappointments, because I am sorry that
+you should thus exert yourself in vain, and that you are kept from me.
+
+------, I know, urges you to stay, and is continually branching out into
+new projects, because he has the idle desire to amass a large fortune,
+rather an immense one, merely to have the credit of having made it. But
+we who are governed by other motives, ought not to be led on by him. When
+we meet, we will discuss this subject--You will listen to reason, and it
+has probably occurred to you, that it will be better, in future, to
+pursue some sober plan, which may demand more time, and still enable you
+to arrive at the same end. It appears to me absurd to waste life in
+preparing to live.
+
+Would it not now be possible to arrange your business in such a manner
+as to avoid the inquietudes, of which I have had my share since your
+departure? Is it not possible to enter into business, as an employment
+necessary to keep the faculties awake, and (to sink a little in the
+expressions) the pot boiling, without suffering what must ever be
+considered as a secondary object, to engross the mind, and drive
+sentiment and affection out of the heart?
+
+I am in a hurry to give this letter to the person who has promised to
+forward it with ------'s. I wish then to counteract, in some measure,
+what he has doubtless recommended most warmly.
+
+Stay, my friend, whilst it is _absolutely_ necessary.--I will give you no
+tenderer name, though it glows at my heart, unless you come the moment
+the settling the _present_ objects permit.--_I do not consent_ to your
+taking any other journey--or the little woman and I will be off, the Lord
+knows where. But, as I had rather owe every thing to your affection, and,
+I may add, to your reason, (for this immoderate desire of wealth, which
+makes ------ so eager to have you remain, is contrary to your principles
+of action), I will not importune you.--I will only tell you, that I long
+to see you--and, being at peace with you, I shall be hurt, rather than
+made angry, by delays.--Having suffered so much in life, do not be
+surprised if I sometimes, when left to myself, grow gloomy, and suppose
+that it was all a dream, and that my happiness is not to last. I say
+happiness, because remembrance retrenches all the dark shades of the
+picture.
+
+My little one begins to show her teeth, and use her legs--She wants you
+to bear your part in the nursing business, for I am fatigued with dancing
+her, and yet she is not satisfied--she wants you to thank her mother for
+taking such care of her, as you only can.
+
+Yours truly
+
+* * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER XXX.
+
+December 29.
+
+THOUGH I suppose you have later intelligence, yet, as ------ has just
+informed me that he has an opportunity of sending immediately to you, I
+take advantage of it to inclose you
+--    --    --    --    --    --    --
+
+How I hate this crooked business! This intercourse with the world, which
+obliges one to see the worst side of human nature! Why cannot you be
+content with the object you had first in view, when you entered into this
+wearisome labyrinth?--I know very well that you have imperceptibly been
+drawn on; yet why does one project, successful or abortive, only give
+place to two others? Is it not sufficient to avoid poverty?--I am
+contented to do my part; and, even here, sufficient to escape from
+wretchedness is not difficult to obtain. And, let me tell you, I have my
+project also--and, if you do not soon return, the little girl and I will
+take care of ourselves; we will not accept any of your cold
+kindness--your distant civilities--no; not we.
+
+This is but half jesting, for I am really tormented by the desire which
+------ manifests to have you remain where you are.--Yet why do I talk to
+you?--If he can persuade you--let him!--for, if you are not happier with
+me, and your own wishes do not make you throw aside these eternal
+projects, I am above using any arguments, though reason as well as
+affection seems to offer them--if our affection be mutual, they will
+occur to you--and you will act accordingly.
+
+Since my arrival here, I have found the German lady, of whom you have
+heard me speak. Her first child died in the month; but she has another,
+about the age of my ------, a fine little creature. They are still but
+contriving to live----earning their daily bread--yet, though they are
+but just above poverty, I envy them.--She is a tender, affectionate
+mother--fatigued even by her attention.--However she has an affectionate
+husband in her turn, to render her care light, and to share her pleasure.
+
+I will own to you that, feeling extreme tenderness for my little girl, I
+grow sad very often when I am playing with her, that you are not here, to
+observe with me how her mind unfolds, and her little heart becomes
+attached!--These appear to me to be true pleasures--and still you suffer
+them to escape you, in search of what we may never enjoy.--It is your own
+maxim to "live in the present moment."--_If you do_--stay, for God's
+sake; but tell me the truth--if not, tell me when I may expect to see
+you, and let me not be always vainly looking for you, till I grow sick at
+heart.
+
+Adieu! I am a little hurt.--I must take my darling to my bosom to comfort
+me.
+
+* * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER XXXI.
+
+December 30.
+
+SHOULD you receive three or four of the letters at once which I have
+written lately, do not think of Sir John Brute, for I do not mean to wife
+you. I only take advantage of every occasion, that one out of three of my
+epistles may reach your hands, and inform you that I am not of ------'s
+opinion, who talks till he makes me angry, of the necessity of your
+staying two or three months longer. I do not like this life of continual
+inquietude--and, _entre nous_, I am determined to try to earn some money
+here myself, in order to convince you that, if you chuse to run about the
+world to get a fortune, it is for yourself--for the little girl and I
+will live without your assistance, unless you are with us. I may be
+termed proud--Be it so--but I will never abandon certain principles of
+action.
+
+The common run of men have such an ignoble way of thinking, that, if they
+debauch their hearts, and prostitute their persons, following perhaps a
+gust of inebriation, they suppose the wife, slave rather, whom they
+maintain, has no right to complain, and ought to receive the sultan,
+whenever he deigns to return, with open arms, though his have been
+polluted by half an hundred promiscuous amours during his absence.
+
+I consider fidelity and constancy as two distinct things; yet the former
+is necessary, to give life to the other--and such a degree of respect do
+I think due to myself, that, if only probity, which is a good thing in
+its place, brings you back, never return!--for, if a wandering of the
+heart, or even a caprice of the imagination detains you--there is an end
+of all my hopes of happiness--I could not forgive it, if I would.
+
+I have gotten into a melancholy mood, you perceive. You know my opinion
+of men in general; you know that I think them systematic tyrants, and
+that it is the rarest thing in the world, to meet with a man with
+sufficient delicacy of feeling to govern desire. When I am thus sad, I
+lament that my little darling, fondly as I doat on her, is a girl.--I am
+sorry to have a tie to a world that for me is ever sown with thorns.
+
+You will call this an ill-humoured letter, when, in fact, it is the
+strongest proof of affection I can give, to dread to lose you. ------ has
+taken such pains to convince me that you must and ought to stay, that it
+has inconceivably depressed my spirits--You have always known my
+opinion--I have ever declared, that two people, who mean to live
+together, ought not to be long separated.--If certain things are more
+necessary to you than me--search for them--Say but one word, and you
+shall never hear of me more.--If not--for God's sake, let us struggle
+with poverty--with any evil, but these continual inquietudes of business,
+which I have been told were to last but a few months, though every day
+the end appears more distant! This is the first letter in this strain
+that I have determined to forward to you; the rest lie by, because I was
+unwilling to give you pain, and I should not now write, if I did not
+think that there would be no conclusion to the schemes, which demand, as
+I am told, your presence.
+
+* * * *[91-A]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER XXXII.
+
+January 9.
+
+I JUST now received one of your hasty _notes_; for business so entirely
+occupies you, that you have not time, or sufficient command of thought,
+to write letters. Beware! you seem to be got into a whirl of projects and
+schemes, which are drawing you into a gulph, that, if it do not absorb
+your happiness, will infallibly destroy mine.
+
+Fatigued during my youth by the most arduous struggles, not only to
+obtain independence, but to render myself useful, not merely pleasure,
+for which I had the most lively taste, I mean the simple pleasures that
+flow from passion and affection, escaped me, but the most melancholy
+views of life were impressed by a disappointed heart on my mind. Since I
+knew you, I have been endeavouring to go back to my former nature, and
+have allowed some time to glide away, winged with the delight which only
+spontaneous enjoyment can give.--Why have you so soon dissolved the
+charm?
+
+I am really unable to bear the continual inquietude which your and
+------'s never-ending plans produce. This you may term want of
+firmness--but you are mistaken--I have still sufficient firmness to
+pursue my principle of action. The present misery, I cannot find a softer
+word to do justice to my feelings, appears to me unnecessary--and
+therefore I have not firmness to support it as you may think I ought. I
+should have been content, and still wish, to retire with you to a
+farm--My God! any thing, but these continual anxieties--any thing but
+commerce, which debases the mind, and roots out affection from the heart.
+
+I do not mean to complain of subordinate inconveniences----yet I will
+simply observe, that, led to expect you every week, I did not make the
+arrangements required by the present circumstances, to procure the
+necessaries of life. In order to have them, a servant, for that purpose
+only, is indispensible--The want of wood, has made me catch the most
+violent cold I ever had; and my head is so disturbed by continual
+coughing, that I am unable to write without stopping frequently to
+recollect myself.--This however is one of the common evils which must be
+borne with----bodily pain does not touch the heart, though it fatigues
+the spirits.
+
+Still as you talk of your return, even in February, doubtingly, I have
+determined, the moment the weather changes, to wean my child.--It is too
+soon for her to begin to divide sorrow!--And as one has well said,
+"despair is a freeman," we will go and seek our fortune together.
+
+This is not a caprice of the moment--for your absence has given new
+weight to some conclusions, that I was very reluctantly forming before
+you left me.--I do not chuse to be a secondary object.--If your feelings
+were in unison with mine, you would not sacrifice so much to visionary
+prospects of future advantage.
+
+* * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER XXXIII.
+
+Jan. 15.
+
+I WAS just going to begin my letter with the fag end of a song, which
+would only have told you, what I may as well say simply, that it is
+pleasant to forgive those we love. I have received your two letters,
+dated the 26th and 28th of December, and my anger died away. You can
+scarcely conceive the effect some of your letters have produced on me.
+After longing to hear from you during a tedious interval of suspense, I
+have seen a superscription written by you.--Promising myself pleasure,
+and feeling emotion, I have laid it by me, till the person who brought
+it, left the room--when, behold! on opening it, I have found only half a
+dozen hasty lines, that have damped all the rising affection of my soul.
+
+Well, now for business--
+--    --    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --    --
+
+My animal is well; I have not yet taught her to eat, but nature is doing
+the business. I gave her a crust to assist the cutting of her teeth; and
+now she has two, she makes good use of them to gnaw a crust, biscuit, &c.
+You would laugh to see her; she is just like a little squirrel; she will
+guard a crust for two hours; and, after fixing her eye on an object for
+some time, dart on it with an aim as sure as a bird of prey--nothing can
+equal her life and spirits. I suffer from a cold; but it does not affect
+her. Adieu! do not forget to love us--and come soon to tell us that you
+do.
+
+* * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER XXXIV.
+
+Jan. 30.
+
+FROM the purport of your last letters, I would suppose that this will
+scarcely reach you; and I have already written so many letters, that you
+have either not received, or neglected to acknowledge, I do not find it
+pleasant, or rather I have no inclination, to go over the same ground
+again. If you have received them, and are still detained by new projects,
+it is useless for me to say any more on the subject. I have done with it
+for ever--yet I ought to remind you that your pecuniary interest suffers
+by your absence.
+
+--    --    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --    --
+
+For my part, my head is turned giddy, by only hearing of plans to make
+money, and my contemptuous feelings have sometimes burst out. I therefore
+was glad that a violent cold gave me a pretext to stay at home, lest I
+should have uttered unseasonable truths.
+
+My child is well, and the spring will perhaps restore me to myself.--I
+have endured many inconveniences this winter, which should I be ashamed
+to mention, if they had been unavoidable. "The secondary pleasures of
+life," you say, "are very necessary to my comfort:" it may be so; but I
+have ever considered them as secondary. If therefore you accuse me of
+wanting the resolution necessary to bear the _common_[100-A] evils of
+life; I should answer, that I have not fashioned my mind to sustain them,
+because I would avoid them, cost what it would----
+
+Adieu!
+
+* * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER XXXV.
+
+February 9.
+
+THE melancholy presentiment has for some time hung on my spirits, that we
+were parted for ever; and the letters I received this day, by Mr. ----,
+convince me that it was not without foundation. You allude to some other
+letters, which I suppose have miscarried; for most of those I have got,
+were only a few hasty lines, calculated to wound the tenderness the sight
+of the superscriptions excited.
+
+I mean not however to complain; yet so many feelings are struggling for
+utterance, and agitating a heart almost bursting with anguish, that I
+find it very difficult to write with any degree of coherence.
+
+You left me indisposed, though you have taken no notice of it; and the
+most fatiguing journey I ever had, contributed to continue it. However, I
+recovered my health; but a neglected cold, and continual inquietude
+during the last two months, have reduced me to a state of weakness I
+never before experienced. Those who did not know that the canker-worm was
+at work at the core, cautioned me about suckling my child too long.--God
+preserve this poor child, and render her happier than her mother!
+
+But I am wandering from my subject: indeed my head turns giddy, when I
+think that all the confidence I have had in the affection of others is
+come to this.
+
+I did not expect this blow from you. I have done my duty to you and my
+child; and if I am not to have any return of affection to reward me, I
+have the sad consolation of knowing that I deserved a better fate. My
+soul is weary--I am sick at heart; and, but for this little darling, I
+would cease to care about a life, which is now stripped of every charm.
+
+You see how stupid I am, uttering declamation, when I meant simply to
+tell you, that I consider your requesting me to come to you, as merely
+dictated by honour.--Indeed, I scarcely understand you.--You request me
+to come, and then tell me, that you have not given up all thoughts of
+returning to this place.
+
+When I determined to live with you, I was only governed by affection.--I
+would share poverty with you, but I turn with affright from the sea of
+trouble on which you are entering.--I have certain principles of action:
+I know what I look for to found my happiness on.--It is not money.--With
+you I wished for sufficient to procure the comforts of life--as it is,
+less will do.--I can still exert myself to obtain the necessaries of life
+for my child, and she does not want more at present.--I have two or three
+plans in my head to earn our subsistence; for do not suppose that,
+neglected by you, I will lie under obligations of a pecuniary kind to
+you!--No; I would sooner submit to menial service.--I wanted the support
+of your affection--that gone, all is over!--I did not think, when I
+complained of ----'s contemptible avidity to accumulate money, that he
+would have dragged you into his schemes.
+
+I cannot write.--I inclose a fragment of a letter, written soon after
+your departure, and another which tenderness made me keep back when it
+was written.--You will see then the sentiments of a calmer, though not a
+more determined, moment.--Do not insult me by saying, that "our being
+together is paramount to every other consideration!" Were it, you would
+not be running after a bubble, at the expence of my peace of mind.
+
+Perhaps this is the last letter you will ever receive from me.
+
+* * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER XXXVI.
+
+Feb. 10.
+
+YOU talk of "permanent views and future comfort"--not for me, for I am
+dead to hope. The inquietudes of the last winter have finished the
+business, and my heart is not only broken, but my constitution destroyed.
+I conceive myself in a galloping consumption, and the continual anxiety I
+feel at the thought of leaving my child, feeds the fever that nightly
+devours me. It is on her account that I again write to you, to conjure
+you, by all that you hold sacred, to leave her here with the German lady
+you may have heard me mention! She has a child of the same age, and they
+may be brought up together, as I wish her to be brought up. I shall
+write more fully on the subject. To facilitate this, I shall give up my
+present lodgings, and go into the same house. I can live much cheaper
+there, which is now become an object. I have had 3000 livres from ----,
+and I shall take one more, to pay my servant's wages, &c. and then I
+shall endeavour to procure what I want by my own exertions. I shall
+entirely give up the acquaintance of the Americans.
+
+---- and I have not been on good terms a long time. Yesterday he very
+unmanlily exulted over me, on account of your determination to stay. I
+had provoked it, it is true, by some asperities against commerce, which
+have dropped from me, when we have argued about the propriety of your
+remaining where you are; and it is no matter, I have drunk too deep of
+the bitter cup to care about trifles.
+
+When you first entered into these plans, you bounded your views to the
+gaining of a thousand pounds. It was sufficient to have procured a farm
+in America, which would have been an independence. You find now that you
+did not know yourself, and that a certain situation in life is more
+necessary to you than you imagined--more necessary than an uncorrupted
+heart--For a year or two, you may procure yourself what you call
+pleasure; eating, drinking, and women; but, in the solitude of declining
+life, I shall be remembered with regret--I was going to say with remorse,
+but checked my pen.
+
+As I have never concealed the nature of my connection with you, your
+reputation will not suffer. I shall never have a confident: I am content
+with the approbation of my own mind; and, if there be a searcher of
+hearts, mine will not be despised. Reading what you have written relative
+to the desertion of women, I have often wondered how theory and practice
+could be so different, till I recollected, that the sentiments of
+passion, and the resolves of reason, are very distinct. As to my sisters,
+as you are so continually hurried with business, you need not write to
+them--I shall, when my mind is calmer. God bless you! Adieu!
+
+* * * *
+
+This has been such a period of barbarity and misery, I ought not to
+complain of having my share. I wish one moment that I had never heard of
+the cruelties that have been practised here, and the next envy the
+mothers who have been killed with their children. Surely I had suffered
+enough in life, not to be cursed with a fondness, that burns up the vital
+stream I am imparting. You will think me mad: I would I were so, that I
+could forget my misery--so that my head or heart would be still.----
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER XXXVII.
+
+Feb. 19.
+
+WHEN I first received your letter, putting off your return to an
+indefinite time, I felt so hurt, that I know not what I wrote. I am now
+calmer, though it was not the kind of wound over which time has the
+quickest effect; on the contrary, the more I think, the sadder I grow.
+Society fatigues me inexpressibly--So much so, that finding fault with
+every one, I have only reason enough, to discover that the fault is in
+myself. My child alone interests me, and, but for her, I should not take
+any pains to recover my health.
+
+As it is, I shall wean her, and try if by that step (to which I feel a
+repugnance, for it is my only solace) I can get rid of my cough.
+Physicians talk much of the danger attending any complaint on the lungs,
+after a woman has suckled for some months. They lay a stress also on the
+necessity of keeping the mind tranquil--and, my God! how has mine been
+harrassed! But whilst the caprices of other women are gratified, "the
+wind of heaven not suffered to visit them too rudely," I have not found
+a guardian angel, in heaven or on earth, to ward off sorrow or care from
+my bosom.
+
+What sacrifices have you not made for a woman you did not respect!--But I
+will not go over this ground--I want to tell you that I do not understand
+you. You say that you have not given up all thoughts of returning
+here--and I know that it will be necessary--nay, is. I cannot explain
+myself; but if you have not lost your memory, you will easily divine my
+meaning. What! is our life then only to be made up of separations? and am
+I only to return to a country, that has not merely lost all charms for
+me, but for which I feel a repugnance that almost amounts to horror, only
+to be left there a prey to it!
+
+Why is it so necessary that I should return?--brought up here, my girl
+would be freer. Indeed, expecting you to join us, I had formed some plans
+of usefulness that have now vanished with my hopes of happiness.
+
+In the bitterness of my heart, I could complain with reason, that I am
+left here dependent on a man, whose avidity to acquire a fortune has
+rendered him callous to every sentiment connected with social or
+affectionate emotions.--With a brutal insensibility, he cannot help
+displaying the pleasure your determination to stay gives him, in spite of
+the effect it is visible it has had on me.
+
+Till I can earn money, I shall endeavour to borrow some, for I want to
+avoid asking him continually for the sum necessary to maintain me.--Do
+not mistake me, I have never been refused.--Yet I have gone half a dozen
+times to the house to ask for it, and come away without speaking----you
+must guess why--Besides, I wish to avoid hearing of the eternal projects
+to which you have sacrificed my peace--not remembering--but I will be
+silent for ever.----
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER XXXVIII.
+
+April 7.
+
+HERE I am at H----, on the wing towards you, and I write now, only to
+tell you, that you may expect me in the course of three or four days;
+for I shall not attempt to give vent to the different emotions which
+agitate my heart--You may term a feeling, which appears to me to be a
+degree of delicacy that naturally arises from sensibility, pride--Still I
+cannot indulge the very affectionate tenderness which glows in my bosom,
+without trembling, till I see, by your eyes, that it is mutual.
+
+I sit, lost in thought, looking at the sea--and tears rush into my eyes,
+when I find that I am cherishing any fond expectations.--I have indeed
+been so unhappy this winter, I find it as difficult to acquire fresh
+hopes, as to regain tranquillity.--Enough of this--lie still, foolish
+heart!--But for the little girl, I could almost wish that it should cease
+to beat, to be no more alive to the anguish of disappointment.
+
+Sweet little creature! I deprived myself of my only pleasure, when I
+weaned her, about ten days ago.--I am however glad I conquered my
+repugnance.--It was necessary it should be done soon, and I did not wish
+to embitter the renewal of your acquaintance with her, by putting it off
+till we met.--It was a painful exertion to me, and I thought it best to
+throw this inquietude with the rest, into the sack that I would fain
+throw over my shoulder.--I wished to endure it alone, in short--Yet,
+after sending her to sleep in the next room for three or four nights, you
+cannot think with what joy I took her back again to sleep in my bosom!
+
+I suppose I shall find you, when I arrive, for I do not see any necessity
+for your coming to me.--Pray inform Mr. ------, that I have his little
+friend with me.--My wishing to oblige him, made me put myself to some
+inconvenience----and delay my departure; which was irksome to me, who
+have not quite as much philosophy, I would not for the world say
+indifference, as you. God bless you!
+
+Yours truly,
+
+* * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER XXXIX.
+
+Brighthelmstone, Saturday, April 11.
+
+HERE we are, my love, and mean to set out early in the morning; and, if I
+can find you, I hope to dine with you to-morrow.--I shall drive to
+------'s hotel, where ------ tells me you have been--and, if you have
+left it, I hope you will take care to be there to receive us.
+
+I have brought with me Mr. ----'s little friend, and a girl whom I like
+to take care of our little darling--not on the way, for that fell to my
+share.--But why do I write about trifles?--or any thing?--Are we not to
+meet soon?--What does your heart say!
+
+Yours truly
+
+* * * *
+
+I have weaned my ------, and she is now eating away at the white bread.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER XL.
+
+London, Friday, May 22.
+
+I HAVE just received your affectionate letter, and am distressed to think
+that I have added to your embarrassments at this troublesome juncture,
+when the exertion of all the faculties of your mind appears to be
+necessary, to extricate you out of your pecuniary difficulties. I suppose
+it was something relative to the circumstance you have mentioned, which
+made ------ request to see me to-day, to _converse about a matter of
+great importance_. Be that as it may, his letter (such is the state of my
+spirits) inconceivably alarmed me, and rendered the last night as
+distressing, as the two former had been.
+
+I have laboured to calm my mind since you left me--Still I find that
+tranquillity is not to be obtained by exertion; it is a feeling so
+different from the resignation of despair!--I am however no longer angry
+with you--nor will I ever utter another complaint--there are arguments
+which convince the reason, whilst they carry death to the heart.--We have
+had too many cruel explanations, that not only cloud every future
+prospect; but embitter the remembrances which alone give life to
+affection.--Let the subject never be revived!
+
+It seems to me that I have not only lost the hope, but the power of being
+happy.--Every emotion is now sharpened by anguish.--My soul has been
+shook, and my tone of feelings destroyed.--I have gone out--and sought
+for dissipation, if not amusement, merely to fatigue still more, I find,
+my irritable nerves----
+
+My friend--my dear friend--examine yourself well--I am out of the
+question; for, alas! I am nothing--and discover what you wish to do--what
+will render you most comfortable--or, to be more explicit--whether you
+desire to live with me, or part for ever? When you can once ascertain it,
+tell me frankly, I conjure you!--for, believe me, I have very
+involuntarily interrupted your peace.
+
+I shall expect you to dinner on Monday, and will endeavour to assume a
+cheerful face to greet you--at any rate I will avoid conversations,
+which only tend to harrass your feelings, because I am most
+affectionately yours,
+
+* * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER XLI.
+
+Wednesday.
+
+I INCLOSE you the letter, which you desired me to forward, and I am
+tempted very laconically to wish you a good morning--not because I am
+angry, or have nothing to say; but to keep down a wounded spirit.--I
+shall make every effort to calm my mind--yet a strong conviction seems to
+whirl round in the very centre of my brain, which, like the fiat of
+fate, emphatically assures me, that grief has a firm hold of my heart.
+
+God bless you!
+
+Yours sincerely
+
+* * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER XLII.
+
+--, Wednesday, Two o'Clock.
+
+WE arrived here about an hour ago. I am extremely fatigued with the
+child, who would not rest quiet with any body but me, during the
+night--and now we are here in a comfortless, damp room, in a sort of a
+tomb-like house. This however I shall quickly remedy, for, when I have
+finished this letter, (which I must do immediately, because the post goes
+out early), I shall sally forth, and enquire about a vessel and an inn.
+
+I will not distress you by talking of the depression of my spirits, or
+the struggle I had to keep alive my dying heart.--It is even now too full
+to allow me to write with composure.--*****,--dear *****, --am I always
+to be tossed about thus?--shall I never find an asylum to rest
+_contented_ in? How can you love to fly about continually--dropping down,
+as it were, in a new world--cold and strange!--every other day? Why do
+you not attach those tender emotions round the idea of home, which even
+now dim my eyes?--This alone is affection--every thing else is only
+humanity, electrified by sympathy.
+
+I will write to you again to-morrow, when I know how long I am to be
+detained--and hope to get a letter quickly from you, to cheer yours
+sincerely and affectionately
+
+* * * *
+
+------ is playing near me in high spirits. She was so pleased with the
+noise of the mail-horn, she has been continually imitating it.----Adieu!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER XLIII.
+
+Thursday.
+
+A LADY has just sent to offer to take me to ------. I have then only a
+moment to exclaim against the vague manner in which people give
+information    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --
+
+But why talk of inconveniences, which are in fact trifling, when compared
+with the sinking of the heart I have felt! I did not intend to touch this
+painful string--God bless you!
+
+Yours truly,
+
+* * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER XLIV.
+
+Friday, June 12.
+
+I HAVE just received yours dated the 9th, which I suppose was a mistake,
+for it could scarcely have loitered so long on the road. The general
+observations which apply to the state of your own mind, appear to me
+just, as far as they go; and I shall always consider it as one of the
+most serious misfortunes of my life, that I did not meet you, before
+satiety had rendered your senses so fastidious, as almost to close up
+every tender avenue of sentiment and affection that leads to your
+sympathetic heart. You have a heart, my friend, yet, hurried away by the
+impetuosity of inferior feelings, you have sought in vulgar excesses,
+for that gratification which only the heart can bestow.
+
+The common run of men, I know, with strong health and gross appetites,
+must have variety to banish _ennui_, because the imagination never lends
+its magic wand, to convert appetite into love, cemented by according
+reason.--Ah! my friend, you know not the ineffable delight, the exquisite
+pleasure, which arises from a unison of affection and desire, when the
+whole soul and senses are abandoned to a lively imagination, that renders
+every emotion delicate and rapturous. Yes; these are emotions, over which
+satiety has no power, and the recollection of which, even disappointment
+cannot disenchant; but they do not exist without self-denial. These
+emotions, more or less strong, appear to me to be the distinctive
+characteristic of genius, the foundation of taste, and of that exquisite
+relish for the beauties of nature, of which the common herd of eaters and
+drinkers and _child-begeters_, certainly have no idea. You will smile at
+an observation that has just occurred to me:--I consider those minds as
+the most strong and original, whose imagination acts as the stimulus to
+their senses.
+
+Well! you will ask, what is the result of all this reasoning? Why I
+cannot help thinking that it is possible for you, having great strength
+of mind, to return to nature, and regain a sanity of constitution, and
+purity of feeling--which would open your heart to me.--I would fain rest
+there!
+
+Yet, convinced more than ever of the sincerity and tenderness of my
+attachment to you, the involuntary hopes, which a determination to live
+has revived, are not sufficiently strong to dissipate the cloud, that
+despair has spread over futurity. I have looked at the sea, and at my
+child, hardly daring to own to myself the secret wish, that it might
+become our tomb; and that the heart, still so alive to anguish, might
+there be quieted by death. At this moment ten thousand complicated
+sentiments press for utterance, weigh on my heart, and obscure my sight.
+
+Are we ever to meet again? and will you endeavour to render that meeting
+happier than the last? Will you endeavour to restrain your caprices, in
+order to give vigour to affection, and to give play to the checked
+sentiments that nature intended should expand your heart? I cannot
+indeed, without agony, think of your bosom's being continually
+contaminated; and bitter are the tears which exhaust my eyes, when I
+recollect why my child and I are forced to stray from the asylum, in
+which, after so many storms, I had hoped to rest, smiling at angry
+fate.--These are not common sorrows; nor can you perhaps conceive, how
+much active fortitude it requires to labour perpetually to blunt the
+shafts of disappointment.
+
+Examine now yourself, and ascertain whether you can live in
+something-like a settled stile. Let our confidence in future be
+unbounded; consider whether you find it necessary to sacrifice me to what
+you term "the zest of life;" and, when you have once a clear view of your
+own motives, of your own incentive to action, do not deceive me!
+
+The train of thoughts which the writing of this epistle awoke, makes me
+so wretched, that I must take a walk, to rouse and calm my mind. But
+first, let me tell you, that, if you really wish to promote my happiness,
+you will endeavour to give me as much as you can of yourself. You have
+great mental energy; and your judgment seems to me so just, that it is
+only the dupe of your inclination in discussing one subject.
+
+The post does not go out to-day. To-morrow I may write more tranquilly. I
+cannot yet say when the vessel will sail in which I have determined to
+depart.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Saturday Morning.
+
+Your second letter reached me about an hour ago. You were certainly
+wrong, in supposing that I did not mention you with respect; though,
+without my being conscious of it, some sparks of resentment may have
+animated the gloom of despair--Yes; with less affection, I should have
+been more respectful. However the regard which I have for you, is so
+unequivocal to myself, I imagine that it must be sufficiently obvious to
+every body else. Besides, the only letter I intended for the public eye
+was to ----, and that I destroyed from delicacy before you saw them,
+because it was only written (of course warmly in your praise) to prevent
+any odium being thrown on you[133-A].
+
+I am harrassed by your embarrassments, and shall certainly use all my
+efforts, to make the business terminate to your satisfaction in which I
+am engaged.
+
+My friend--my dearest friend--I feel my fate united to yours by the most
+sacred principles of my soul, and the yearns of--yes, I will say it--a
+true, unsophisticated heart.
+
+Yours most truly
+
+* * * *
+
+If the wind be fair, the captain talks of sailing on Monday; but I am
+afraid I shall be detained some days longer. At any rate, continue to
+write, (I want this support) till you are sure I am where I cannot expect
+a letter; and, if any should arrive after my departure, a gentleman (not
+Mr. ----'s friend, I promise you) from whom I have received great
+civilities, will send them after me.
+
+Do write by every occasion! I am anxious to hear how your affairs go on;
+and, still more, to be convinced that you are not separating yourself
+from us. For my little darling is calling papa, and adding her parrot
+word--Come, Come! And will you not come, and let us exert ourselves?--I
+shall recover all my energy, when I am convinced that my exertions will
+draw us more closely together. One more adieu!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER XLV.
+
+Sunday, June 14.
+
+I RATHER expected to hear from you to-day--I wish you would not fail to
+write to me for a little time, because I am not quite well--Whether I
+have any good sleep or not, I wake in the morning in violent fits of
+trembling--and, in spite of all my efforts, the child--every
+thing--fatigues me, in which I seek for solace or amusement.
+
+Mr. ---- forced on me a letter to a physician of this place; it was
+fortunate, for I should otherwise have had some difficulty to obtain the
+necessary information. His wife is a pretty woman (I can admire, you
+know, a pretty woman, when I am alone) and he an intelligent and rather
+interesting man.--They have behaved to me with great hospitality; and
+poor ------ was never so happy in her life, as amongst their young brood.
+
+They took me in their carriage to ------, and I ran over my favourite
+walks, with a vivacity that would have astonished you.--The town did not
+please me quite so well as formerly--It appeared so diminutive; and, when
+I found that many of the inhabitants had lived in the same houses ever
+since I left it, I could not help wondering how they could thus have
+vegetated, whilst I was running over a world of sorrow, snatching at
+pleasure, and throwing off prejudices. The place where I at present am,
+is much improved; but it is astonishing what strides aristocracy and
+fanaticism have made, since I resided in this country.
+
+The wind does not appear inclined to change, so I am still forced to
+linger--When do you think that you shall be able to set out for France? I
+do not entirely like the aspect of your affairs, and still less your
+connections on either side of the water. Often do I sigh, when I think of
+your entanglements in business, and your extreme restlessness of
+mind.--Even now I am almost afraid to ask you, whether the pleasure of
+being free, does not over-balance the pain you felt at parting with me?
+Sometimes I indulge the hope that you will feel me necessary to you--or
+why should we meet again?--but, the moment after, despair damps my rising
+spirits, aggravated by the emotions of tenderness, which ought to soften
+the cares of life.----God bless you!
+
+Yours sincerely and affectionately
+
+* * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER XLVI.
+
+June 15.
+
+I WANT to know how you have settled with respect to ------. In short, be
+very particular in your account of all your affairs--let our confidence,
+my dear, be unbounded.--The last time we were separated, was a separation
+indeed on your part--Now you have acted more ingenuously, let the most
+affectionate interchange of sentiments fill up the aching void of
+disappointment. I almost dread that your plans will prove abortive--yet
+should the most unlucky turn send you home to us, convinced that a true
+friend is a treasure, I should not much mind having to struggle with the
+world again. Accuse me not of pride--yet sometimes, when nature has
+opened my heart to its author, I have wondered that you did not set a
+higher value on my heart.
+
+Receive a kiss from ------, I was going to add, if you will not take one
+from me, and believe me yours
+
+Sincerely
+
+* * * *
+
+The wind still continues in the same quarter.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER XLVII.
+
+Tuesday Morning.
+
+THE captain has just sent to inform me, that I must be on board in the
+course of a few hours.--I wished to have stayed till to-morrow. It would
+have been a comfort to me to have received another letter from
+you--Should one arrive, it will be sent after me.
+
+My spirits are agitated, I scarcely know why----The quitting England
+seems to be a fresh parting.--Surely you will not forget me.--A thousand
+weak forebodings assault my soul, and the state of my health renders me
+sensible to every thing. It is surprising that in London, in a continual
+conflict of mind, I was still growing better--whilst here, bowed down by
+the despotic hand of fate, forced into resignation by despair, I seem to
+be fading away--perishing beneath a cruel blight, that withers up all my
+faculties.
+
+The child is perfectly well. My hand seems unwilling to add adieu! I know
+not why this inexpressible sadness has taken possession of me.--It is not
+a presentiment of ill. Yet, having been so perpetually the sport of
+disappointment,--having a heart that has been as it were a mark for
+misery, I dread to meet wretchedness in some new shape.--Well, let it
+come--I care not!--what have I to dread, who have so little to hope for!
+God bless you--I am most affectionately and sincerely yours
+
+* * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER XLVIII.
+
+Wednesday Morning.
+
+I WAS hurried on board yesterday about three o'clock, the wind having
+changed. But before evening it veered round to the old point; and here we
+are, in the midst of mists and water, only taking advantage of the tide
+to advance a few miles.
+
+You will scarcely suppose that I left the town with reluctance--yet it
+was even so--for I wished to receive another letter from you, and I felt
+pain at parting, for ever perhaps, from the amiable family, who had
+treated me with so much hospitality and kindness. They will probably send
+me your letter, if it arrives this morning; for here we are likely to
+remain, I am afraid to think how long.
+
+The vessel is very commodious, and the captain a civil, open-hearted kind
+of man. There being no other passengers, I have the cabin to myself,
+which is pleasant; and I have brought a few books with me to beguile
+weariness; but I seem inclined, rather to employ the dead moments of
+suspence in writing some effusions, than in reading.
+
+What are you about? How are your affairs going on? It may be a long time
+before you answer these questions. My dear friend, my heart sinks within
+me!--Why am I forced thus to struggle continually with my affections and
+feelings?--Ah! why are those affections and feelings the source of so
+much misery, when they seem to have been given to vivify my heart, and
+extend my usefulness! But I must not dwell on this subject.--Will you not
+endeavour to cherish all the affection you can for me? What am I
+saying?--Rather forget me, if you can--if other gratifications are dearer
+to you.--How is every remembrance of mine embittered by disappointment?
+What a world is this!--They only seem happy, who never look beyond
+sensual or artificial enjoyments.--Adieu!
+
+------ begins to play with the cabin-boy, and is as gay as a lark.--I
+will labour to be tranquil; and am in every mood,
+
+Yours sincerely
+
+* * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER XLIX.
+
+Thursday.
+
+HERE I am still--and I have just received your letter of Monday by the
+pilot, who promised to bring it to me, if we were detained, as he
+expected, by the wind.--It is indeed wearisome to be thus tossed about
+without going forward.--I have a violent head-ache--yet I am obliged to
+take care of the child, who is a little tormented by her teeth, because
+------ is unable to do any thing, she is rendered so sick by the motion
+of the ship, as we ride at anchor.
+
+These are however trifling inconveniences, compared with anguish of
+mind--compared with the sinking of a broken heart.--To tell you the
+truth, I never suffered in my life so much from depression of
+spirits--from despair.--I do not sleep--or, if I close my eyes, it is to
+have the most terrifying dreams, in which I often meet you with different
+casts of countenance.
+
+I will not, my dear ------, torment you by dwelling on my sufferings--and
+will use all my efforts to calm my mind, instead of deadening it--at
+present it is most painfully active. I find I am not equal to these
+continual struggles--yet your letter this morning has afforded me some
+comfort--and I will try to revive hope. One thing let me tell you--when
+we meet again--surely we are to meet!--it must be to part no more. I mean
+not to have seas between us--it is more than I can support.
+
+The pilot is hurrying me--God bless you.
+
+In spite of the commodiousness of the vessel, every thing here would
+disgust my senses, had I nothing else to think of--"When the mind's free,
+the body's delicate;"--mine has been too much hurt to regard trifles.
+
+Yours most truly
+
+* * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER L.
+
+Saturday.
+
+THIS is the fifth dreary day I have been imprisoned by the wind, with
+every outward object to disgust the senses, and unable to banish the
+remembrances that sadden my heart.
+
+How am I altered by disappointment!--When going to ----, ten years ago,
+the elasticity of my mind was sufficient to ward off weariness--and the
+imagination still could dip her brush in the rainbow of fancy, and sketch
+futurity in smiling colours. Now I am going towards the North in search
+of sunbeams!--Will any ever warm this desolated heart? All nature seems
+to frown--or rather mourn with me.--Every thing is cold--cold as my
+expectations! Before I left the shore, tormented, as I now am, by these
+North east _chillers_, I could not help exclaiming--Give me, gracious
+Heaven! at least, genial weather, if I am never to meet the genial
+affection that still warms this agitated bosom--compelling life to linger
+there.
+
+I am now going on shore with the captain, though the weather be rough,
+to seek for milk, &c. at a little village, and to take a walk--after
+which I hope to sleep--for, confined here, surrounded by disagreeable
+smells, I have lost the little appetite I had; and I lie awake, till
+thinking almost drives me to the brink of madness--only to the brink, for
+I never forget, even in the feverish slumbers I sometimes fall into, the
+misery I am labouring to blunt the the sense of, by every exertion in my
+power.
+
+Poor ------ still continues sick, and ------ grows weary when the weather
+will not allow her to remain on deck.
+
+I hope this will be the last letter I shall write from England to
+you--are you not tired of this lingering adieu?
+
+Yours truly
+
+* * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER LI.
+
+Sunday Morning.
+
+THE captain last night, after I had written my letter to you intended to
+be left at a little village, offered to go to ---- to pass to-day. We had
+a troublesome sail--and now I must hurry on board again, for the wind has
+changed.
+
+I half expected to find a letter from you here. Had you written one
+haphazard, it would have been kind and considerate--you might have known,
+had you thought, that the wind would not permit me to depart. These are
+attentions, more grateful to the heart than offers of service--But why
+do I foolishly continue to look for them?
+
+Adieu! adieu! My friend--your friendship is very cold--you see I am
+hurt.--God bless you! I may perhaps be, some time or other, independent
+in every sense of the word--Ah! there is but one sense of it of
+consequence. I will break or bend this weak heart--yet even now it is
+full.
+
+Yours sincerely
+
+* * * *
+
+The child is well; I did not leave her on board.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER LII.
+
+June 27, Saturday.
+
+I ARRIVED in ------ this afternoon, after vainly attempting to land at
+----. I have now but a moment, before the post goes out, to inform you we
+have got here; though not without considerable difficulty, for we were
+set ashore in a boat above twenty miles below.
+
+What I suffered in the vessel I will not now descant upon--nor mention
+the pleasure I received from the sight of the rocky coast.--This morning
+however, walking to join the carriage that was to transport us to this
+place, I fell, without any previous warning, senseless on the rocks--and
+how I escaped with life I can scarcely guess. I was in a stupour for a
+quarter of an hour; the suffusion of blood at last restored me to my
+senses--the contusion is great, and my brain confused. The child is well.
+
+Twenty miles ride in the rain, after my accident, has sufficiently
+deranged me--and here I could not get a fire to warm me, or any thing
+warm to eat; the inns are mere stables--I must nevertheless go to bed.
+For God's sake, let me hear from you immediately, my friend! I am not
+well and yet you see I cannot die.
+
+Yours sincerely
+
+* * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER LIII.
+
+June 29.
+
+I WROTE to you by the last post, to inform you of my arrival; and I
+believe I alluded to the extreme fatigue I endured on ship-board, owing
+to ------'s illness, and the roughness of the weather--I likewise
+mentioned to you my fall, the effects of which I still feel, though I do
+not think it will have any serious consequences.
+
+------ will go with me, if I find it necessary to go to ------. The inns
+here are so bad, I was forced to accept of an apartment in his house. I
+am overwhelmed with civilities on all sides, and fatigued with the
+endeavours to amuse me, from which I cannot escape.
+
+My friend--my friend, I am not well--a deadly weight of sorrow lies
+heavily on my heart. I am again tossed on the troubled billows of life;
+and obliged to cope with difficulties, without being buoyed up by the
+hopes that alone render them bearable. "How flat, dull, and
+unprofitable," appears to me all the bustle into which I see people here
+so eagerly enter! I long every night to go to bed, to hide my melancholy
+face in my pillow; but there is a canker-worm in my bosom that never
+sleeps.
+
+* * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER LIV.
+
+July 1.
+
+I LABOUR in vain to calm my mind--my soul has been overwhelmed by sorrow
+and disappointment. Every thing fatigues me--this is a life that cannot
+last long. It is you who must determine with respect to futurity--and,
+when you have, I will act accordingly--I mean, we must either resolve to
+live together, or part for ever, I cannot bear these continual
+struggles--But I wish you to examine carefully your own heart and mind;
+and, if you perceive the least chance of being happier without me than
+with me, or if your inclination leans capriciously to that side, do not
+dissemble; but tell me frankly that you will never see me more. I will
+then adopt the plan I mentioned to you--for we must either live together,
+or I will be entirely independent.
+
+My heart is so oppressed, I cannot write with precision--You know however
+that what I so imperfectly express, are not the crude sentiments of the
+moment--You can only contribute to my comfort (it is the consolation I am
+in need of) by being with me--and, if the tenderest friendship is of any
+value, why will you not look to me for a degree of satisfaction that
+heartless affections cannot bestow?
+
+Tell me then, will you determine to meet me at Basle?--I shall, I should
+imagine, be at ------ before the close of August; and, after you settle
+your affairs at Paris, could we not meet there?
+
+God bless you!
+
+Yours truly
+
+* * * *
+
+Poor ------ has suffered during the journey with her teeth.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER LV.
+
+July 3.
+
+THERE was a gloominess diffused through your last letter, the impression
+of which still rests on my mind--though, recollecting how quickly you
+throw off the forcible feelings of the moment, I flatter myself it has
+long since given place to your usual cheerfulness.
+
+Believe me (and my eyes fill with tears of tenderness as I assure you)
+there is nothing I would not endure in the way of privation, rather than
+disturb your tranquillity.--If I am fated to be unhappy, I will labour to
+hide my sorrows in my own bosom; and you shall always find me a faithful,
+affectionate friend.
+
+I grow more and more attached to my little girl--and I cherish this
+affection without fear, because it must be a long time before it can
+become bitterness of soul.--She is an interesting creature.--On
+ship-board, how often as I gazed at the sea, have I longed to bury my
+troubled bosom in the less troubled deep; asserting with Brutus, "that
+the virtue I had followed too far, was merely an empty name!" and
+nothing but the sight of her--her playful smiles, which seemed to cling
+and twine round my heart--could have stopped me.
+
+What peculiar misery has fallen to my share! To act up to my principles,
+I have laid the strictest restraint on my very thoughts--yes; not to
+sully the delicacy of my feelings, I have reined in my imagination; and
+started with affright from every sensation, (I allude to ----) that
+stealing with balmy sweetness into my soul, led me to scent from afar the
+fragrance of reviving nature.
+
+My friend, I have dearly paid for one conviction.--Love, in some minds,
+is an affair of sentiment, arising from the same delicacy of perception
+(or taste) as renders them alive to the beauties of nature, poetry, &c,
+alive to the charms of those evanescent graces that are, as it were,
+impalpable--they must be felt, they cannot be described.
+
+Love is a want of my heart. I have examined myself lately with more care
+than formerly, and find, that to deaden is not to calm the mind--Aiming
+at tranquillity, I have almost destroyed all the energy of my
+soul--almost rooted out what renders it estimable--Yes, I have damped
+that enthusiasm of character, which converts the grossest materials into
+a fuel, that imperceptibly feeds hopes, which aspire above common
+enjoyment. Despair, since the birth of my child, has rendered me
+stupid--soul and body seemed to be fading away before the withering touch
+of disappointment.
+
+I am now endeavouring to recover myself--and such is the elasticity of my
+constitution, and the purity of the atmosphere here, that health unsought
+for, begins to reanimate my countenance.
+
+I have the sincerest esteem and affection for you--but the desire of
+regaining peace, (do you understand me?) has made me forget the respect
+due to my own emotions--sacred emotions, that are the sure harbingers of
+the delights I was formed to enjoy--and shall enjoy, for nothing can
+extinguish the heavenly spark.
+
+Still, when we meet again, I will not torment you, I promise you. I blush
+when I recollect my former conduct--and will not in future confound
+myself with the beings whom I feel to be my inferiors.--I will listen to
+delicacy, or pride.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER LVI.
+
+July 4.
+
+I HOPE to hear from you by to-morrow's mail. My dearest friend! I cannot
+tear my affections from you--and, though every remembrance stings me to
+the soul, I think of you, till I make allowance for the very defects of
+character, that have given such a cruel stab to my peace.
+
+Still however I am more alive, than you have seen me for a long, long
+time. I have a degree of vivacity, even in my grief, which is preferable
+to the benumbing stupour that, for the last year, has frozen up all my
+faculties.--Perhaps this change is more owing to returning health, than
+to the vigour of my reason--for, in spite of sadness (and surely I have
+had my share), the purity of this air, and the being continually out in
+it, for I sleep in the country every night, has made an alteration in my
+appearance that really surprises me.--The rosy fingers of health already
+streak my cheeks--and I have seen a _physical_ life in my eyes, after I
+have been climbing the rocks, that resembled the fond, credulous hopes of
+youth.
+
+With what a cruel sigh have I recollected that I had forgotten to
+hope!--Reason, or rather experience, does not thus cruelly damp poor
+------'s pleasures; she plays all day in the garden with ------'s
+children, and makes friends for herself.
+
+Do not tell me, that you are happier without us--Will you not come to us
+in Switzerland? Ah, why do not you love us with more sentiment?--why are
+you a creature of such sympathy, that the warmth of your feelings, or
+rather quickness of your senses, hardens your heart? It is my misfortune,
+that my imagination is perpetually shading your defects, and lending you
+charms, whilst the grossness of your senses makes you (call me not vain)
+overlook graces in me, that only dignity of mind, and the sensibility of
+an expanded heart can give.--God bless you! Adieu.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER LVII.
+
+July 7.
+
+I COULD not help feeling extremely mortified last post, at not receiving
+a letter from you. My being at ------was but a chance, and you might have
+hazarded it; and would a year ago.
+
+I shall not however complain--There are misfortunes so great, as to
+silence the usual expressions of sorrow--Believe me, there is such a
+thing as a broken heart! There are characters whose very energy preys
+upon them; and who, ever inclined to cherish by reflection some passion,
+cannot rest satisfied with the common comforts of life. I have
+endeavoured to fly from myself, and launched into all the dissipation
+possible here, only to feel keener anguish, when alone with my child.
+
+Still, could any thing please me--had not disappointment cut me off from
+life, this romantic country, these fine evenings, would interest me.--My
+God! can any thing? and am I ever to feel alive only to painful
+sensations?--But it cannot--it shall not last long.
+
+The post is again arrived; I have sent to seek for letters, only to be
+wounded to the soul by a negative.--My brain seems on fire, I must go
+into the air.
+
+* * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER LVIII.
+
+July 14.
+
+I AM now on my journey to ------. I felt more at leaving my child, than I
+thought I should--and, whilst at night I imagined every instant that I
+heard the half-formed sounds of her voice,--I asked myself how I could
+think of parting with her for ever, of leaving her thus helpless?
+
+Poor lamb! It may run very well in a tale, that "God will temper the
+winds to the shorn lamb!" but how can I expect that she will be shielded,
+when my naked bosom has had to brave continually the pitiless storm?
+Yes; I could add, with poor Lear--What is the war of elements to the
+pangs of disappointed affection, and the horror arising from a discovery
+of a breach of confidence, that snaps every social tie!
+
+All is not right somewhere!--When you first knew me, I was not thus lost.
+I could still confide--for I opened my heart to you--of this only comfort
+you have deprived me, whilst my happiness, you tell me, was your first
+object. Strange want of judgment!
+
+I will not complain; but, from the soundness of your understanding, I am
+convinced, if you give yourself leave to reflect, you will also feel,
+that your conduct to me, so far from being generous, has not been
+just.--I mean not to allude to factitious principles of morality; but to
+the simple basis of all rectitude.--However I did not intend to
+argue--Your not writing is cruel--and my reason is perhaps disturbed by
+constant wretchedness.
+
+Poor ------ would fain have accompanied me, out of tenderness; for my
+fainting, or rather convulsion, when I landed, and my sudden changes of
+countenance since, have alarmed her so much, that she is perpetually
+afraid of some accident--But it would have injured the child this warm
+season, as she is cutting her teeth.
+
+I hear not of your having written to me at ----. Very well! Act as you
+please--there is nothing I fear or care for! When I see whether I can, or
+cannot obtain the money I am come here about, I will not trouble you with
+letters to which you do not reply.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER LIX.
+
+July 18.
+
+I AM here in ----, separated from my child--and here I must remain a
+month at least, or I might as well never have come.    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --
+
+I have begun -------- which will, I hope, discharge all my obligations of
+a pecuniary kind.--I am lowered in my own eyes, on account of my not
+having done it sooner.
+
+I shall make no further comments on your silence. God bless you!
+
+* * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER LX.
+
+July 30.
+
+I HAVE just received two of your letters, dated the 26th and 30th of
+June; and you must have received several from me, informing you of my
+detention, and how much I was hurt by your silence.
+
+--    --    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --    --
+
+Write to me then, my friend, and write explicitly. I have suffered, God
+knows, since I left you. Ah! you have never felt this kind of sickness of
+heart!--My mind however is at present painfully active, and the sympathy
+I feel almost rises to agony. But this is not a subject of complaint, it
+has afforded me pleasure,--and reflected pleasure is all I have to hope
+for--if a spark of hope be yet alive in my forlorn bosom.
+
+I will try to write with a degree of composure. I wish for us to live
+together, because I want you to acquire an habitual tenderness for my
+poor girl. I cannot bear to think of leaving her alone in the world, or
+that she should only be protected by your sense of duty. Next to
+preserving her, my most earnest wish is not to disturb your peace. I have
+nothing to expect, and little to fear, in life--There are wounds that can
+never be healed--but they may be allowed to fester in silence without
+wincing.
+
+When we meet again, you shall be convinced that I have more resolution
+than you give me credit for. I will not torment you. If I am destined
+always to be disappointed and unhappy, I will conceal the anguish I
+cannot dissipate; and the tightened cord of life or reason will at last
+snap, and set me free.
+
+Yes; I shall be happy--This heart is worthy of the bliss its feelings
+anticipate--and I cannot even persuade myself, wretched as they have made
+me, that my principles and sentiments are not founded in nature and
+truth. But to have done with these subjects.
+
+--    --    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --    --
+
+I have been seriously employed in this way since I came to ----; yet I
+never was so much in the air.--I walk, I ride on horseback--row, bathe,
+and even sleep in the fields; my health is consequently improved. The
+child, ------informs me, is well. I long to be with her.
+
+Write to me immediately--were I only to think of myself, I could wish you
+to return to me, poor, with the simplicity of character, part of which
+you seem lately to have lost, that first attached to you.
+
+Yours most affectionately
+
+* * * *  * * * * *
+
+I have been subscribing other letters--so I mechanically did the same to
+yours.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER LXI.
+
+August 5.
+
+EMPLOYMENT and exercise have been of great service to me; and I have
+entirely recovered the strength and activity I lost during the time of my
+nursing. I have seldom been in better health; and my mind, though
+trembling to the touch of anguish, is calmer--yet still the same.--I
+have, it is true, enjoyed some tranquillity, and more happiness here,
+than for a long--long time past.--(I say happiness, for I can give no
+other appellation to the exquisite delight this wild country and fine
+summer have afforded me.)--Still, on examining my heart, I find that it
+is so constituted, I cannot live without some particular affection--I am
+afraid not without a passion--and I feel the want of it more in society,
+than in solitude--
+--    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --
+
+Writing to you, whenever an affectionate epithet occurs--my eyes fill
+with tears, and my trembling hand stops--you may then depend on my
+resolution, when with you. If I am doomed to be unhappy, I will confine
+my anguish in my own bosom--tenderness, rather than passion, has made me
+sometimes overlook delicacy--the same tenderness will in future restrain
+me. God bless you!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER LXII.
+
+August 7.
+
+AIR, exercise, and bathing, have restored me to health, braced my
+muscles, and covered my ribs, even whilst I have recovered my former
+activity.--I cannot tell you that my mind is calm, though I have snatched
+some moments of exquisite delight, wandering through the woods, and
+resting on the rocks.
+
+This state of suspense, my friend, is intolerable; we must determine on
+something--and soon;--we must meet shortly, or part for ever. I am
+sensible that I acted foolishly--but I was wretched--when we were
+together--Expecting too much, I let the pleasure I might have caught,
+slip from me. I cannot live with you--I ought not--if you form another
+attachment. But I promise you, mine shall not be intruded on you. Little
+reason have I to expect a shadow of happiness, after the cruel
+disappointments that have rent my heart; but that of my child seems to
+depend on our being together. Still I do not wish you to sacrifice a
+chance of enjoyment for an uncertain good. I feel a conviction, that I
+can provide for her, and it shall be my object--if we are indeed to part
+to meet no more. Her affection must not be divided. She must be a comfort
+to me--if I am to have no other--and only know me as her support.--I feel
+that I cannot endure the anguish of corresponding with you--if we are
+only to correspond.--No; if you seek for happiness elsewhere, my letters
+shall not interrupt your repose. I will be dead to you. I cannot express
+to you what pain it gives me to write about an eternal separation.--You
+must determine--examine yourself--But, for God's sake! spare me the
+anxiety of uncertainty!--I may sink under the trial; but I will not
+complain.
+
+Adieu! If I had any thing more to say to you, it is all flown, and
+absorbed by the most tormenting apprehensions, yet I scarcely know what
+new form of misery I have to dread.
+
+I ought to beg your pardon for having sometimes written peevishly; but
+you will impute it to affection, if you understand any thing of the heart
+of
+
+Yours truly
+
+* * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER LXIII.
+
+August 9.
+
+FIVE of your letters have been sent after me from ----. One, dated the
+14th of July, was written in a style which I may have merited, but did
+not expect from you. However this is not a time to reply to it, except to
+assure you that you shall not be tormented with any more complaints. I am
+disgusted with myself for having so long importuned you with my
+affection.----
+
+My child is very well. We shall soon meet, to part no more, I hope--I
+mean, I and my girl.--I shall wait with some degree of anxiety till I am
+informed how your affairs terminate.
+
+Yours sincerely
+
+* * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER LXIV.
+
+August 26.
+
+I ARRIVED here last night, and with the most exquisite delight, once more
+pressed my babe to my heart. We shall part no more. You perhaps cannot
+conceive the pleasure it gave me, to see her run about, and play alone.
+Her increasing intelligence attaches me more and more to her. I have
+promised her that I will fulfil my duty to her; and nothing in future
+shall make me forget it. I will also exert myself to obtain an
+independence for her; but I will not be too anxious on this head.
+
+I have already told you, that I have recovered my health. Vigour, and
+even vivacity of mind, have returned with a renovated constitution. As
+for peace, we will not talk of it. I was not made, perhaps, to enjoy the
+calm contentment so termed.--
+--    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --
+
+You tell me that my letters torture you; I will not describe the effect
+yours have on me. I received three this morning, the last dated the 7th
+of this month. I mean not to give vent to the emotions they
+produced.--Certainly you are right; our minds are not congenial. I have
+lived in an ideal world, and fostered sentiments that you do not
+comprehend--or you would not treat me thus. I am not, I will not be,
+merely an object of compassion--a clog, however light, to teize you.
+Forget that I exist: I will never remind you. Something emphatical
+whispers me to put an end to these struggles. Be free--I will not
+torment, when I cannot please. I can take care of my child; you need not
+continually tell me that our fortune is inseparable, _that you will try
+to cherish tenderness_ for me. Do no violence to yourself! When we are
+separated, our interest, since you give so much weight to pecuniary
+considerations, will be entirely divided. I want not protection without
+affection; and support I need not, whilst my faculties are undisturbed.
+I had a dislike to living in England; but painful feelings must give way
+to superior considerations. I may not be able to acquire the sum
+necessary to maintain my child and self elsewhere. It is too late to go
+to Switzerland. I shall not remain at ----, living expensively. But be
+not alarmed! I shall not force myself on you any more.
+
+Adieu! I am agitated--my whole frame is convulsed--my lips tremble, as if
+shook by cold, though fire seems to be circulating in my veins.
+
+God bless you.
+
+* * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER LXV.
+
+September 6.
+
+I RECEIVED just now your letter of the 20th. I had written you a letter
+last night, into which imperceptibly slipt some of my bitterness of soul.
+I will copy the part relative to business. I am not sufficiently vain to
+imagine that I can, for more than a moment, cloud your enjoyment of
+life--to prevent even that, you had better never hear from me--and repose
+on the idea that I am happy.
+
+Gracious God! It is impossible for me to stifle something like
+resentment, when I receive fresh proofs of your indifference. What I
+have suffered this last year, is not to be forgotten! I have not that
+happy substitute for wisdom, insensibility--and the lively sympathies
+which bind me to my fellow-creatures, are all of a painful kind.--They
+are the agonies of a broken heart--pleasure and I have shaken hands.
+
+I see here nothing but heaps of ruins, and only converse with people
+immersed in trade and sensuality.
+
+I am weary of travelling--yet seem to have no home--no resting place to
+look to.--I am strangely cast off.--How often, passing through the rocks,
+I have thought, "But for this child, I would lay my head on one of them,
+and never open my eyes again!" With a heart feelingly alive to all the
+affections of my nature--I have never met with one, softer than the stone
+that I would fain take for my last pillow. I once thought I had, but it
+was all a delusion. I meet with families continually, who are bound
+together by affection or principle--and, when I am conscious that I have
+fulfilled the duties of my station, almost to a forgetfulness of myself,
+I am ready to demand, in a murmuring tone, of Heaven, "Why am I thus
+abandoned?"
+
+You say now   --   --   --
+--    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --
+
+I do not understand you. It is necessary for you to write more
+explicitly--and determine on some mode of conduct.--I cannot endure this
+suspense--Decide--Do you fear to strike another blow? We live together,
+or eternally part!--I shall not write to you again, till I receive an
+answer to this. I must compose my tortured soul, before I write on
+indifferent subjects.   --   --
+--    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --
+
+I do not know whether I write intelligibly, for my head is
+disturbed.--But this you ought to pardon--for it is with difficulty
+frequently that I make out what you mean to say--You write, I suppose, at
+Mr. ----'s after dinner, when your head is not the clearest--and as for
+your heart, if you have one, I see nothing like the dictates of
+affection, unless a glimpse when you mention, the child.--Adieu!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER LXVI.
+
+September 25.
+
+I HAVE just finished a letter, to be given in charge to captain ------.
+In that I complained of your silence, and expressed my surprise that
+three mails should have arrived without bringing a line for me. Since I
+closed it, I hear of another, and still no letter.--I am labouring to
+write calmly--this silence is a refinement on cruelty. Had captain ------
+remained a few days longer, I would have returned with him to England.
+What have I to do here? I have repeatedly written to you fully. Do you
+do the same--and quickly. Do not leave me in suspense. I have not
+deserved this of you. I cannot write, my mind is so distressed. Adieu!
+
+* * * *
+
+
+END VOL. III.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[4-A] The child is in a subsequent letter called the "barrier girl,"
+probably from a supposition that she owed her existence to this
+interview.
+
+EDITOR.
+
+[7-A] This and the thirteen following letters appear to have been written
+during a separation of several months; the date, Paris.
+
+[27-A] Some further letters, written during the remainder of the week, in
+a similar strain to the preceding, appear to have been destroyed by the
+person to whom they were addressed.
+
+[47-A] The child spoken of in some preceding letters, had now been born a
+considerable time.
+
+[50-A] She means, "the latter more than the former."
+
+EDITOR.
+
+[58-A] This is the first of a series of letters written during a
+separation of many months, to which no cordial meeting ever succeeded.
+They were sent from Paris, and bear the address of London.
+
+[91-A] The person to whom the letters are addressed, was about this time
+at Ramsgate, on his return, as he professed, to Paris, when he was
+recalled, as it should seem, to London, by the further pressure of
+business now accumulated upon him.
+
+[100-A] This probably alludes to some expression of the person to whom
+the letters are addressed, in which he treated as common evils, things
+upon which the letter writer was disposed to bestow a different
+appellation.
+
+EDITOR.
+
+[133-A] This passage refers to letters written under a purpose of
+suicide, and not intended to be opened till after the catastrophe.
+
+
+
+
+POSTHUMOUS WORKS
+
+OF THE
+
+AUTHOR
+
+OF A
+
+VINDICATION OF THE RIGHTS OF WOMAN.
+
+IN FOUR VOLUMES.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+VOL. IV.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+_LONDON:_
+
+PRINTED FOR J. JOHNSON, NO. 72, ST. PAUL'S
+  CHURCH-YARD; AND G. G. AND J. ROBINSON,
+              PATERNOSTER-ROW.
+                   1798.
+
+
+
+LETTERS
+
+AND
+
+MISCELLANEOUS PIECES.
+
+IN TWO VOLUMES.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+VOL. II.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+
+                                                       Page
+Letters                                                   1
+Letter on the Present Character of the French Nation     39
+Fragment of Letters on the Management of Infants         55
+Letters to Mr. Johnson                                   61
+Extract of the Cave of Fancy, a Tale                     99
+On Poetry and our Relish for the Beauties of Nature     159
+Hints                                                   179
+
+
+
+
+ERRATA.
+
+
+Page 10, line 8, _for_ I write you, _read_ I write to you.
+---- 20, -- 9, _read_ bring them to ----.
+---- 146, -- 2 from the bottom, after over, insert a comma.
+
+
+
+
+LETTERS.
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER LXVII.
+
+September 27.
+
+WHEN you receive this, I shall either have landed, or be hovering on the
+British coast--your letter of the 18th decided me.
+
+By what criterion of principle or affection, you term my questions
+extraordinary and unnecessary, I cannot determine.--You desire me to
+decide--I had decided. You must have had long ago two letters of mine,
+from ------, to the same purport, to consider.--In these, God knows!
+there was but too much affection, and the agonies of a distracted mind
+were but too faithfully pourtrayed!--What more then had I to say?--The
+negative was to come from you.--You had perpetually recurred to your
+promise of meeting me in the autumn--Was it extraordinary that I should
+demand a yes, or no?--Your letter is written with extreme harshness,
+coldness I am accustomed to, in it I find not a trace of the tenderness
+of humanity, much less of friendship.--I only see a desire to heave a
+load off your shoulders.
+
+I am above disputing about words.--It matters not in what terms you
+decide.
+
+The tremendous power who formed this heart, must have foreseen that, in a
+world in which self-interest, in various shapes, is the principal mobile,
+I had little chance of escaping misery.--To the fiat of fate I submit.--I
+am content to be wretched; but I will not be contemptible.--Of me you
+have no cause to complain, but for having had too much regard for
+you--for having expected a degree of permanent happiness, when you only
+sought for a momentary gratification.
+
+I am strangely deficient in sagacity.--Uniting myself to you, your
+tenderness seemed to make me amends for all my former misfortunes.--On
+this tenderness and affection with what confidence did I rest!--but I
+leaned on a spear, that has pierced me to the heart.--You have thrown off
+a faithful friend, to pursue the caprices of the moment.--We certainly
+are differently organized; for even now, when conviction has been stamped
+on my soul by sorrow, I can scarcely believe it possible. It depends at
+present on you, whether you will see me or not.--I shall take no step,
+till I see or hear from you.
+
+Preparing myself for the worst--I have determined, if your next letter be
+like the last, to write to Mr. ------to procure me an obscure lodging,
+and not to inform any body of my arrival.--There I will endeavour in a
+few months to obtain the sum necessary to take me to France--from you I
+will not receive any more.--I am not yet sufficiently humbled to depend
+on your beneficence.
+
+Some people, whom my unhappiness has interested, though they know not
+the extent of it, will assist me to attain the object I have in view, the
+independence of my child. Should a peace take place, ready money will go
+a great way in France--and I will borrow a sum, which my industry _shall_
+enable me to pay at my leisure, to purchase a small estate for my
+girl.--The assistance I shall find necessary to complete her education, I
+can get at an easy rate at Paris--I can introduce her to such society as
+she will like--and thus, securing for her all the chance for happiness,
+which depends on me, I shall die in peace, persuaded that the felicity
+which has hitherto cheated my expectation, will not always elude my
+grasp. No poor tempest-tossed mariner ever more earnestly longed to
+arrive at his port.
+
+* * * *
+
+I shall not come up in the vessel all the way, because I have no place to
+go to. Captain ------ will inform you where I am. It is needless to add,
+that I am not in a state of mind to bear suspense--and that I wish to see
+you, though it be for the last time.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER LXVIII.
+
+Sunday, October 4.
+
+I WROTE to you by the packet, to inform you, that your letter of the 18th
+of last month, had determined me to set out with captain ------; but, as
+we sailed very quick, I take it for granted, that you have not yet
+received it.
+
+You say, I must decide for myself.--I had decided, that it was most for
+the interest of my little girl, and for my own comfort, little as I
+expect, for us to live together; and I even thought that you would be
+glad, some years hence, when the tumult of business was over, to repose
+in the society of an affectionate friend, and mark the progress of our
+interesting child, whilst endeavouring to be of use in the circle you at
+last resolved to rest in; for you cannot run about for ever.
+
+From the tenour of your last letter however, I am led to imagine, that
+you have formed some new attachment.--If it be so, let me earnestly
+request you to see me once more, and immediately. This is the only proof
+I require of the friendship you profess for me. I will then decide,
+since you boggle about a mere form.
+
+I am labouring to write with calmness--but the extreme anguish I feel, at
+landing without having any friend to receive me, and even to be conscious
+that the friend whom I most wish to see, will feel a disagreeable
+sensation at being informed of my arrival, does not come under the
+description of common misery. Every emotion yields to an overwhelming
+flood of sorrow--and the playfulness of my child distresses me.--On her
+account, I wished to remain a few days here, comfortless as is my
+situation.--Besides, I did not wish to surprise you. You have told me,
+that you would make any sacrifice to promote my happiness--and, even in
+your last unkind letter, you talk of the ties which bind you to me and
+my child.--Tell me, that you wish it, and I will cut this Gordian knot.
+
+I now most earnestly intreat you to write to me, without fail, by the
+return of the post. Direct your letter to be left at the post-office, and
+tell me whether you will come to me here, or where you will meet me. I
+can receive your letter on Wednesday morning.
+
+Do not keep me in suspense.--I expect nothing from you, or any human
+being: my die is cast!--I have fortitude enough to determine to do my
+duty; yet I cannot raise my depressed spirits, or calm my trembling
+heart.--That being who moulded it thus, knows that I am unable to tear up
+by the roots the propensity to affection which has been the torment of my
+life--but life will have an end!
+
+Should you come here (a few months ago I could not have doubted it) you
+will find me at ------. If you prefer meeting me on the road, tell me
+where.
+
+Yours affectionately
+
+* * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER LXIX.
+
+I WRITE you now on my knees; imploring you to send my child and the maid
+with ----, to Paris, to be consigned to the care of Madame ----, rue
+----, section de ----. Should they be removed, ---- can give their
+direction.
+
+Let the maid have all my clothes, without distinction.
+
+Pray pay the cook her wages, and do not mention the confession which I
+forced from her--a little sooner or later is of no consequence. Nothing
+but my extreme stupidity could have rendered me blind so long. Yet,
+whilst you assured me that you had no attachment, I thought we might
+still have lived together.
+
+I shall make no comments on your conduct; or any appeal to the world. Let
+my wrongs sleep with me! Soon, very soon shall I be at peace. When you
+receive this, my burning head will be cold.
+
+I would encounter a thousand deaths, rather than a night like the last.
+Your treatment has thrown my mind into a state of chaos; yet I am serene.
+I go to find comfort, and my only fear is, that my poor body will be
+insulted by an endeavour to recal my hated existence. But I shall plunge
+into the Thames where there is the least chance of my being snatched from
+the death I seek.
+
+God bless you! May you never know by experience what you have made me
+endure. Should your sensibility ever awake, remorse will find its way to
+your heart; and, in the midst of business and sensual pleasure, I shall
+appear before you, the victim of your deviation from rectitude.
+
+* * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER LXX.
+
+Sunday Morning.
+
+I HAVE only to lament, that, when the bitterness of death was past, I was
+inhumanly brought back to life and misery. But a fixed determination is
+not to be baffled by disappointment; nor will I allow that to be a
+frantic attempt, which was one of the calmest acts of reason. In this
+respect, I am only accountable to myself. Did I care for what is termed
+reputation, it is by other circumstances that I should be dishonoured.
+
+You say, "that you know not how to extricate ourselves out of the
+wretchedness into which we have been plunged." You are extricated long
+since.--But I forbear to comment.----If I am condemned to live longer, it
+is a living death.
+
+It appears to me, that you lay much more stress on delicacy, than on
+principle; for I am unable to discover what sentiment of delicacy would
+have been violated, by your visiting a wretched friend--if indeed you
+have any friendship for me.--But since your new attachment is the only
+thing sacred in your eyes, I am silent--Be happy! My complaints shall
+never more damp your enjoyment--perhaps I am mistaken in supposing that
+even my death could, for more than a moment.--This is what you call
+magnanimity--It is happy for yourself, that you possess this quality in
+the highest degree.
+
+Your continually asserting, that you will do all in your power to
+contribute to my comfort (when you only allude to pecuniary assistance),
+appears to me a flagrant breach of delicacy.--I want not such vulgar
+comfort, nor will I accept it. I never wanted but your heart--That gone,
+you have nothing more to give. Had I only poverty to fear, I should not
+shrink from life.--Forgive me then, if I say, that I shall consider any
+direct or indirect attempt to supply my necessities, as an insult which I
+have not merited--and as rather done out of tenderness for your own
+reputation, than for me. Do not mistake me; I do not think that you value
+money (therefore I will not accept what you do not care for) though I do
+much less, because certain privations are not painful to me. When I am
+dead, respect for yourself will make you take care of the child.
+
+I write with difficulty--probably I shall never write to you
+again.--Adieu!
+
+God bless you!
+
+* * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER LXXI.
+
+Monday Morning.
+
+I AM compelled at last to say that you treat me ungenerously. I agree
+with you, that--    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --
+
+But let the obliquity now fall on me.--I fear neither poverty nor infamy.
+I am unequal to the task of writing--and explanations are not necessary.--
+--    --    --    --    --    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --    --
+My child may have to blush for her mother's want of prudence--and may
+lament that the rectitude of my heart made me above vulgar precautions;
+but she shall not despise me for meanness.--You are now perfectly
+free.--God bless you.
+
+* * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER LXXIII.
+
+Saturday Night.
+
+I HAVE been hurt by indirect enquiries, which appear to me not to be
+dictated by any tenderness to me.--You ask "If I am well or
+tranquil?"--They who think me so, must want a heart to estimate my
+feelings by.--I chuse then to be the organ of my own sentiments.
+
+I must tell you, that I am very much mortified by your continually
+offering me pecuniary assistance--and, considering your going to the new
+house, as an open avowal that you abandon me, let me tell you that I
+will sooner perish than receive any thing from you--and I say this at the
+moment when I am disappointed in my first attempt to obtain a temporary
+supply. But this even pleases me; an accumulation of disappointments and
+misfortunes seems to suit the habit of my mind.--
+
+Have but a little patience, and I will remove myself where it will not be
+necessary for you to talk--of course, not to think of me. But let me see,
+written by yourself--for I will not receive it through any other
+medium--that the affair is finished.--It is an insult to me to suppose,
+that I can be reconciled, or recover my spirits; but, if you hear nothing
+of me, it will be the same thing to you.
+
+* * * *
+
+Even your seeing me, has been to oblige other people, and not to sooth my
+distracted mind.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER LXXIV.
+
+Thursday Afternoon.
+
+MR. ------ having forgot to desire you to send the things of mine which
+were left at the house, I have to request you to let ------ bring them
+onto ------.
+
+I shall go this evening to the lodging; so you need not be restrained
+from coming here to transact your business.--And, whatever I may think,
+and feel--you need not fear that I shall publicly complain--No! If I
+have any criterion to judge of right and wrong, I have been most
+ungenerously treated: but, wishing now only to hide myself, I shall be
+silent as the grave in which I long to forget myself. I shall protect and
+provide for my child.--I only mean by this to say, that you having
+nothing to fear from my desperation.
+
+Farewel.
+
+* * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER LXXV.
+
+London, November 27.
+
+
+THE letter, without an address, which you put up with the letters you
+returned, did not meet my eyes till just now.--I had thrown the letters
+aside--I did not wish to look over a register of sorrow.
+
+My not having seen it, will account for my having written to you with
+anger--under the impression your departure, without even a line left for
+me, made on me, even after your late conduct, which could not lead me to
+expect much attention to my sufferings.
+
+In fact, "the decided conduct, which appeared to me so unfeeling," has
+almost overturned my reason; my mind is injured--I scarcely know where I
+am, or what I do.--The grief I cannot conquer (for some cruel
+recollections never quit me, banishing almost every other) I labour to
+conceal in total solitude.--My life therefore is but an exercise of
+fortitude, continually on the stretch--and hope never gleams in this
+tomb, where I am buried alive.
+
+But I meant to reason with you, and not to complain.--You tell me, "that
+I shall judge more coolly of your mode of acting, some time hence." But
+is it not possible that _passion_ clouds your reason, as much as it does
+mine?--and ought you not to doubt, whether those principles are so
+"exalted," as you term them, which only lead to your own gratification?
+In other words, whether it be just to have no principle of action, but
+that of following your inclination, trampling on the affection you have
+fostered, and the expectations you have excited?
+
+My affection for you is rooted in my heart.--I know you are not what you
+now seem--nor will you always act, or feel, as you now do, though I may
+never be comforted by the change.--Even at Paris, my image will haunt
+you.--You will see my pale face--and sometimes the tears of anguish will
+drop on your heart, which you have forced from mine.
+
+I cannot write. I thought I could quickly have refuted all your
+_ingenious_ arguments; but my head is confused.--Right or wrong, I am
+miserable!
+
+It seems to me, that my conduct has always been governed by the strictest
+principles of justice and truth.--Yet, how wretched have my social
+feelings, and delicacy of sentiment rendered me!--I have loved with my
+whole soul, only to discover that I had no chance of a return--and that
+existence is a burthen without it.
+
+I do not perfectly understand you.--If, by the offer of your friendship,
+you still only mean pecuniary support--I must again reject it.--Trifling
+are the ills of poverty in the scale of my misfortunes.--God bless you!
+
+* * * *
+
+I have been treated ungenerously--if I understand what is
+generosity.----You seem to me only to have been anxious to shake me
+off--regardless whether you dashed me to atoms by the fall.--In truth I
+have been rudely handled. _Do you judge coolly_, and I trust you will
+not continue to call those capricious feelings "the most refined," which
+would undermine not only the most sacred principles, but the affections
+which unite mankind.----You would render mothers unnatural--and there
+would be no such thing as a father!--If your theory of morals is the most
+"exalted," it is certainly the most easy.--It does not require much
+magnanimity, to determine to please ourselves for the moment, let others
+suffer what they will!
+
+Excuse me for again tormenting you, my heart thirsts for justice from
+you--and whilst I recollect that you approved Miss ------'s conduct--I am
+convinced you will not always justify your own.
+
+Beware of the deceptions of passion! It will not always banish from your
+mind, that you have acted ignobly--and condescended to subterfuge to
+gloss over the conduct you could not excuse.--Do truth and principle
+require such sacrifices?
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER LXXVI.
+
+London, December 8.
+
+HAVING just been informed that ------ is to return immediately to Paris,
+I would not miss a sure opportunity of writing, because I am not certain
+that my last, by Dover has reached you.
+
+Resentment, and even anger, are momentary emotions with me--and I wished
+to tell you so, that if you ever think of me, it may not be in the light
+of an enemy.
+
+That I have not been used _well_ I must ever feel; perhaps, not always
+with the keen anguish I do at present--for I began even now to write
+calmly, and I cannot restrain my tears.
+
+I am stunned!--Your late conduct still appears to me a frightful
+dream.--Ah! ask yourself if you have not condescended to employ a little
+address, I could almost say cunning, unworthy of you?--Principles are
+sacred things--and we never play with truth, with impunity.
+
+The expectation (I have too fondly nourished it) of regaining your
+affection, every day grows fainter and fainter.--Indeed, it seems to me,
+when I am more sad than usual, that I shall never see you more.--Yet you
+will not always forget me.--You will feel something like remorse, for
+having lived only for yourself--and sacrificed my peace to inferior
+gratifications. In a comfortless old age, you will remember that you had
+one disinterested friend, whose heart you wounded to the quick. The hour
+of recollection will come--and you will not be satisfied to act the part
+of a boy, till you fall into that of a dotard. I know that your mind,
+your heart, and your principles of action, are all superior to your
+present conduct. You do, you must, respect me--and you will be sorry to
+forfeit my esteem.
+
+You know best whether I am still preserving the remembrance of an
+imaginary being.--I once thought that I knew you thoroughly--but now I am
+obliged to leave some doubts that involuntarily press on me, to be
+cleared up by time.
+
+You may render me unhappy; but cannot make me contemptible in my own
+eyes.--I shall still be able to support my child, though I am
+disappointed in some other plans of usefulness, which I once believed
+would have afforded you equal pleasure.
+
+Whilst I was with you, I restrained my natural generosity, because I
+thought your property in jeopardy.--When I went to --------, I requested
+you, _if you could conveniently_, not to forget my father, sisters, and
+some other people, whom I was interested about.--Money was lavished away,
+yet not only my requests were neglected, but some trifling debts were not
+discharged, that now come on me.--Was this friendship--or generosity?
+Will you not grant you have forgotten yourself? Still I have an
+affection for you.--God bless you.
+
+* * * *
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER LXXVII.
+
+AS the parting from you for ever is the most serious event of my life, I
+will once expostulate with you, and call not the language of truth and
+feeling ingenuity!
+
+I know the soundness of your understanding--and know that it is
+impossible for you always to confound the caprices of every wayward
+inclination with the manly dictates of principle.
+
+You tell me "that I torment you."--Why do I?----Because you cannot
+estrange your heart entirely from me--and you feel that justice is on my
+side. You urge, "that your conduct was unequivocal."--It was not.--When
+your coolness has hurt me, with what tenderness have you endeavoured to
+remove the impression!--and even before I returned to England, you took
+great pains to convince me, that all my uneasiness was occasioned by the
+effect of a worn-out constitution--and you concluded your letter with
+these words, "Business alone has kept me from you.--Come to any port, and
+I will fly down to my two dear girls with a heart all their own."
+
+With these assurances, is it extraordinary that I should believe what I
+wished? I might--and did think that you had a struggle with old
+propensities; but I still thought that I and virtue should at last
+prevail. I still thought that you had a magnanimity of character, which
+would enable you to conquer yourself.
+
+--------, believe me, it is not romance, you have acknowledged to me
+feelings of this kind.--You could restore me to life and hope, and the
+satisfaction you would feel, would amply repay you.
+
+In tearing myself from you, it is my own heart I pierce--and the time
+will come, when you will lament that you have thrown away a heart, that,
+even in the moment of passion, you cannot despise.--I would owe every
+thing to your generosity--but, for God's sake, keep me no longer in
+suspense!--Let me see you once more!--
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER LXXVIII.
+
+YOU must do as you please with respect to the child.--I could wish that
+it might be done soon, that my name may be no more mentioned to you. It
+is now finished.--Convinced that you have neither regard nor friendship,
+I disdain to utter a reproach, though I have had reason to think, that
+the "forbearance" talked of, has not been very delicate.--It is however
+of no consequence.--I am glad you are satisfied with your own conduct.
+
+I now solemnly assure you, that this is an eternal farewel.--Yet I flinch
+not from the duties which tie me to life.
+
+That there is "sophistry" on one side or other, is certain; but now it
+matters not on which. On my part it has not been a question of words. Yet
+your understanding or mine must be strangely warped--for what you term
+"delicacy," appears to me to be exactly the contrary. I have no criterion
+for morality, and have thought in vain, if the sensations which lead you
+to follow an ancle or step, be the sacred foundation of principle and
+affection. Mine has been of a very different nature, or it would not have
+stood the brunt of your sarcasms.
+
+The sentiment in me is still sacred. If there be any part of me that will
+survive the sense of my misfortunes, it is the purity of my affections.
+The impetuosity of your senses, may have led you to term mere animal
+desire, the source of principle; and it may give zest to some years to
+come.--Whether you will always think so, I shall never know.
+
+It is strange that, in spite of all you do, something like conviction
+forces me to believe, that you are not what you appear to be.
+
+I part with you in peace.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+LETTER
+ON THE
+PRESENT CHARACTER
+OF THE
+FRENCH NATION.
+
+
+LETTER
+
+_Introductory to a Series of Letters on the Present Character of the
+French Nation._
+
+
+Paris, February 15, 1793.
+
+My dear friend,
+
+IT is necessary perhaps for an observer of mankind, to guard as carefully
+the remembrance of the first impression made by a nation, as by a
+countenance; because we imperceptibly lose sight of the national
+character, when we become more intimate with individuals. It is not then
+useless or presumptuous to note, that, when I first entered Paris, the
+striking contrast of riches and poverty, elegance and slovenliness,
+urbanity and deceit, every where caught my eye, and saddened my soul; and
+these impressions are still the foundation of my remarks on the manners,
+which flatter the senses, more than they interest the heart, and yet
+excite more interest than esteem.
+
+The whole mode of life here tends indeed to render the people frivolous,
+and, to borrow their favourite epithet, amiable. Ever on the wing, they
+are always sipping the sparkling joy on the brim of the cup, leaving
+satiety in the bottom for those who venture to drink deep. On all sides
+they trip along, buoyed up by animal spirits, and seemingly so void of
+care, that often, when I am walking on the _Boulevards_, it occurs to me,
+that they alone understand the full import of the term leisure; and they
+trifle their time away with such an air of contentment, I know not how to
+wish them wiser at the expence of their gaiety. They play before me like
+motes in a sunbeam, enjoying the passing ray; whilst an English head,
+searching for more solid happiness, loses, in the analysis of pleasure,
+the volatile sweets of the moment. Their chief enjoyment, it is true,
+rises from vanity: but it is not the vanity that engenders vexation of
+spirit; on the contrary, it lightens the heavy burthen of life, which
+reason too often weighs, merely to shift from one shoulder to the other.
+
+Investigating the modification of the passion, as I would analyze the
+elements that give a form to dead matter, I shall attempt to trace to
+their source the causes which have combined to render this nation the
+most polished, in a physical sense, and probably the most superficial in
+the world; and I mean to follow the windings of the various streams that
+disembogue into a terrific gulf, in which all the dignity of our nature
+is absorbed. For every thing has conspired to make the French the most
+sensual people in the world; and what can render the heart so hard, or so
+effectually stifle every moral emotion, as the refinements of sensuality?
+
+The frequent repetition of the word French, appears invidious; let me
+then make a previous observation, which I beg you not to lose sight of,
+when I speak rather harshly of a land flowing with milk and honey.
+Remember that it is not the morals of a particular people that I would
+decry; for are we not all of the same stock? But I wish calmly to
+consider the stage of civilization in which I find the French, and,
+giving a sketch of their character, and unfolding the circumstances which
+have produced its identity, I shall endeavour to throw some light on the
+history of man, and on the present important subjects of discussion.
+
+I would I could first inform you that, out of the chaos of vices and
+follies, prejudices and virtues, rudely jumbled together, I saw the fair
+form of Liberty slowly rising, and Virtue expanding her wings to shelter
+all her children! I should then hear the account of the barbarities that
+have rent the bosom of France patiently, and bless the firm hand that
+lopt off the rotten limbs. But, if the aristocracy of birth is levelled
+with the ground, only to make room for that of riches, I am afraid that
+the morals of the people will not be much improved by the change, or the
+government rendered less venal. Still it is not just to dwell on the
+misery produced by the present struggle, without adverting to the
+standing evils of the old system. I am grieved--sorely grieved--when I
+think of the blood that has stained the cause of freedom at Paris; but I
+also hear the same live stream cry aloud from the highways, through which
+the retreating armies passed with famine and death in their rear, and I
+hide my face with awe before the inscrutable ways of providence, sweeping
+in such various directions the besom of destruction over the sons of men.
+
+Before I came to France, I cherished, you know, an opinion, that strong
+virtues might exist with the polished manners produced by the progress
+of civilization; and I even anticipated the epoch, when, in the course of
+improvement, men would labour to become virtuous, without being goaded on
+by misery. But now, the perspective of the golden age, fading before the
+attentive eye of observation, almost eludes my sight; and, losing thus in
+part my theory of a more perfect state, start not, my friend, if I bring
+forward an opinion, which at the first glance seems to be levelled
+against the existence of God! I am not become an Atheist, I assure you,
+by residing at Paris: yet I begin to fear that vice, or, if you will,
+evil, is the grand mobile of action, and that, when the passions are
+justly poized, we become harmless, and in the same proportion useless.
+
+The wants of reason are very few; and, were we to consider
+dispassionately the real value of most things, we should probably rest
+satisfied with the simple gratification of our physical necessities, and
+be content with negative goodness: for it is frequently, only that
+wanton, the Imagination, with her artful coquetry, who lures us forward,
+and makes us run over a rough road, pushing aside every obstacle merely
+to catch a disappointment.
+
+The desire also of being useful to others, is continually damped by
+experience; and, if the exertions of humanity were not in some measure
+their own reward, who would endure misery, or struggle with care, to make
+some people ungrateful, and others idle?
+
+You will call these melancholy effusions, and guess that, fatigued by
+the vivacity, which has all the bustling folly of childhood, without the
+innocence which renders ignorance charming, I am too severe in my
+strictures. It may be so; and I am aware that the good effects of the
+revolution will be last felt at Paris; where surely the soul of Epicurus
+has long been at work to root out the simple emotions of the heart,
+which, being natural, are always moral. Rendered cold and artificial by
+the selfish enjoyments of the senses, which the government fostered, is
+it surprising that simplicity of manners, and singleness of heart, rarely
+appear, to recreate me with the wild odour of nature, so passing sweet?
+
+Seeing how deep the fibres of mischief have shot, I sometimes ask, with a
+doubting accent, Whether a nation can go back to the purity of manners
+which has hitherto been maintained unsullied only by the keen air of
+poverty, when, emasculated by pleasure, the luxuries of prosperity are
+become the wants of nature? I cannot yet give up the hope, that a fairer
+day is dawning on Europe, though I must hesitatingly observe, that little
+is to be expected from the narrow principle of commerce which seems every
+where to be shoving aside _the point of honour_ of the _noblesse_. I can
+look beyond the evils of the moment, and do not expect muddied water to
+become clear before it has had time to stand; yet, even for the moment,
+it is the most terrific of all sights, to see men vicious without
+warmth--to see the order that should be the superscription of virtue,
+cultivated to give security to crimes which only thoughtlessness could
+palliate. Disorder is, in fact, the very essence of vice, though with the
+wild wishes of a corrupt fancy humane emotions often kindly mix to soften
+their atrocity. Thus humanity, generosity, and even self-denial,
+sometimes render a character grand, and even useful, when hurried away by
+lawless passions; but what can equal the turpitude of a cold calculator
+who lives for himself alone, and considering his fellow-creatures merely
+as machines of pleasure, never forgets that honesty is the best policy?
+Keeping ever within the pale of the law, he crushes his thousands with
+impunity; but it is with that degree of management, which makes him, to
+borrow a significant vulgarism, a villain _in grain_. The very excess of
+his depravation preserves him, whilst the more respectable beast of prey,
+who prowls about like the lion, and roars to announce his approach,
+falls into a snare.
+
+You may think it too soon to form an opinion of the future government,
+yet it is impossible to avoid hazarding some conjectures, when every
+thing whispers me, that names, not principles, are changed, and when I
+see that the turn of the tide has left the dregs of the old system to
+corrupt the new. For the same pride of office, the same desire of power
+are still visible; with this aggravation, that, fearing to return to
+obscurity after having but just acquired a relish for distinction, each
+hero, or philosopher, for all are dubbed with these new titles,
+endeavours to make hay while the sun shines; and every petty municipal
+officer, become the idol, or rather the tyrant of the day, stalks like a
+cock on a dunghil.
+
+I shall now conclude this desultory letter; which however will enable you
+to foresee that I shall treat more of morals than manners.
+
+Yours ------
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+FRAGMENT
+OF
+LETTERS
+ON THE
+MANAGEMENT OF INFANTS.
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+
+Introductory Letter.
+LETTER II. Management of the Mother during pregnancy: bathing.
+LETTER III. Lying-in.
+LETTER IV. The first month: diet: clothing.
+LETTER V. The three following months.
+LETTER VI. The remainder of the first year.
+LETTER VII. The second year, &c: conclusion.
+
+
+LETTERS ON THE MANAGEMENT OF INFANTS.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER I.
+
+I OUGHT to apologize for not having written to you on the subject you
+mentioned; but, to tell you the truth, it grew upon me: and, instead of
+an answer, I have begun a series of letters on the management of children
+in their infancy. Replying then to your question, I have the public in
+my thoughts, and shall endeavour to show what modes appear to me
+necessary, to render the infancy of children more healthy and happy. I
+have long thought, that the cause which renders children as hard to rear
+as the most fragile plant, is our deviation from simplicity. I know that
+some able physicians have recommended the method I have pursued, and I
+mean to point out the good effects I have observed in practice. I am
+aware that many matrons will exclaim against me, and dwell on the number
+of children they have brought up, as their mothers did before them,
+without troubling themselves with new-fangled notions; yet, though, in my
+uncle Toby's words, they should attempt to silence me, by "wishing I had
+seen their large" families, I must suppose, while a third part of the
+human species, according to the most accurate calculation, die during
+their infancy, just at the threshold of life, that there is some error in
+the modes adopted by mothers and nurses, which counteracts their own
+endeavours. I may be mistaken in some particulars; for general rules,
+founded on the soundest reason, demand individual modification; but, if I
+can persuade any of the rising generation to exercise their reason on
+this head, I am content. My advice will probably be found most useful to
+mothers in the middle class; and it is from them that the lower
+imperceptibly gains improvement. Custom, produced by reason in one, may
+safely be the effect of imitation in the other.--    --    --
+--    --    --    --    --    --
+
+
+
+
+LETTERS
+TO
+Mr. JOHNSON,
+_BOOKSELLER_,
+IN
+ST. PAUL'S CHURCH-YARD.
+
+
+LETTERS
+TO
+Mr. JOHNSON.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+LETTER I.
+
+Dublin, April 14, [1787.]
+
+Dear sir,
+
+I AM still an invalid--and begin to believe that I ought never to expect
+to enjoy health. My mind preys on my body--and, when I endeavour to be
+useful, I grow too much interested for my own peace. Confined almost
+entirely to the society of children, I am anxiously solicitous for their
+future welfare, and mortified beyond measure, when counteracted in my
+endeavours to improve them.--I feel all a mother's fears for the swarm of
+little ones which surround me, and observe disorders, without having
+power to apply the proper remedies. How can I be reconciled to life, when
+it is always a painful warfare, and when I am deprived of all the
+pleasures I relish?--I allude to rational conversations, and domestic
+affections. Here, alone, a poor solitary individual in a strange land,
+tied to one spot, and subject to the caprice of another, can I be
+contented? I am desirous to convince you that I have _some_ cause for
+sorrow--and am not without reason detached from life. I shall hope to
+hear that you are well, and am yours sincerely
+
+MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER II.
+
+Henley, Thursday, Sept 13.
+
+My dear sir,
+
+SINCE I saw you, I have, literally speaking, _enjoyed_ solitude. My
+sister could not accompany me in my rambles; I therefore wandered alone,
+by the side of the Thames, and in the neighbouring beautiful fields and
+pleasure grounds: the prospects were of such a placid kind, I _caught_
+tranquillity while I surveyed them--my mind was _still_, though active.
+Were I to give you an account how I have spent my time, you would
+smile.--I found an old French bible here, and amused myself with
+comparing it with our English translation; then I would listen to the
+falling leaves, or observe the various tints the autumn gave to them--At
+other times, the singing of a robin, or the noise of a water-mill,
+engaged my attention--partial attention--, for I was, at the same time
+perhaps discussing some knotty point, or straying from this _tiny_ world
+to new systems. After these excursions, I returned to the family meals,
+told the children stories (they think me _vastly_ agreeable), and my
+sister was amused.--Well, will you allow me to call this way of passing
+my days pleasant?
+
+I was just going to mend my pen; but I believe it will enable me to say
+all I have to add to this epistle. Have you yet heard of an habitation
+for me? I often think of my new plan of life; and, lest my sister should
+try to prevail on me to alter it, I have avoided mentioning it to her. I
+am determined!--Your sex generally laugh at female determinations; but
+let me tell you, I never yet resolved to do, any thing of consequence,
+that I did not adhere resolutely to it, till I had accomplished my
+purpose, improbable as it might have appeared to a more timid mind. In
+the course of near nine-and-twenty years, I have gathered some
+experience, and felt many _severe_ disappointments--and what is the
+amount? I long for a little peace and _independence_! Every obligation we
+receive from our fellow-creatures is a new shackle, takes from our native
+freedom, and debases the mind, makes us mere earthworms--I am not fond of
+grovelling!
+
+I am, sir, yours, &c.
+
+MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER III.
+
+Market Harborough, Sept. 20.
+
+My dear sir,
+
+YOU left me with three opulent tradesmen; their conversation was not
+calculated to beguile the way, when the sable curtain concealed the
+beauties of nature. I listened to the tricks of trade--and shrunk away,
+without wishing to grow rich; even the novelty of the subjects did not
+render them pleasing; fond as I am of tracing the passions in all their
+different forms--I was not surprised by any glimpse of the sublime, or
+beautiful--though one of them imagined I would be a useful partner in a
+good _firm_. I was very much fatigued, and have scarcely recovered
+myself. I do not expect to enjoy the same tranquil pleasures Henley
+afforded: I meet with new objects to employ my mind; but many painful
+emotions are complicated with the reflections they give rise to.
+
+I do not intend to enter on the _old_ topic, yet hope to hear from
+you--and am yours, &c.
+
+MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER IV.
+
+Friday Night.
+
+My dear sir,
+
+THOUGH your remarks are generally judicious--I cannot _now_ concur with
+you, I mean with respect to the preface[67-A], and have not altered it.
+I hate the usual smooth way of exhibiting proud humility. A general rule
+_only_ extends to the majority--and, believe me, the few judicious
+parents who may peruse my book, will not feel themselves hurt--and the
+weak are too vain to mind what is said in a book intended for children.
+
+I return you the Italian MS.--but do not hastily imagine that I am
+indolent. I would not spare any labour to do my duty--and, after the most
+laborious day, that single thought would solace me more than any
+pleasures the senses could enjoy. I find I could not translate the MS.
+well. If it was not a MS, I should not be so easily intimidated; but the
+hand, and errors in orthography, or abbreviations, are a stumbling-block
+at the first setting out.--I cannot bear to do any thing I cannot do
+well--and I should lose time in the vain attempt.
+
+I had, the other day, the satisfaction of again receiving a letter from
+my poor, dear Margaret[69-A].--With all a mother's fondness I could
+transcribe a part of it--She says, every day her affection to me, and
+dependence on heaven increase, &c.--I miss her innocent caresses--and
+sometimes indulge a pleasing hope, that she may be allowed to cheer my
+childless age--if I am to live to be old.--At any rate, I may hear of the
+virtues I may not contemplate--and my reason may permit me to love a
+female.--I now allude to ------. I have received another letter from her,
+and her childish complaints vex me--indeed they do--As usual, good-night.
+
+MARY.
+
+If parents attended to their children, I would not have written the
+stories; for, what are books--compared to conversations which affection
+inforces!--
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER V.
+
+My dear sir,
+
+REMEMBER you are to settle _my account_, as I want to know how much I am
+in your debt--but do not suppose that I feel any uneasiness on that
+score. The generality of people in trade would not be much obliged to me
+for a like civility, _but you were a man_ before you were a
+bookseller--so I am your sincere friend,
+
+MARY.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER VI.
+
+Friday Morning.
+
+I AM sick with vexation--and wish I could knock my foolish head against
+the wall, that bodily pain might make me feel less anguish from
+self-reproach! To say the truth, I was never more displeased with myself,
+and I will tell you the cause.--You may recollect that I did not mention
+to you the circumstance of ------ having a fortune left to him; nor did a
+hint of it drop from me when I conversed with my sister; because I knew
+he had a sufficient motive for concealing it. Last Sunday, when his
+character was aspersed, as I thought, unjustly, in the heat of
+vindication I informed ****** that he was now independent; but, at the
+same time, desired him not to repeat my information to B----; yet, last
+Tuesday, he told him all--and the boy at B----'s gave Mrs. ------ an
+account of it. As Mr. ------ knew he had only made a confident of me (I
+blush to think of it!) he guessed the channel of intelligence, and this
+morning came (not to reproach me, I wish he had!) but to point out the
+injury I have done him.--Let what will be the consequence, I will
+reimburse him, if I deny myself the necessaries of life--and even then my
+folly will sting me.--Perhaps you can scarcely conceive the misery I at
+this moment endure--that I, whose power of doing good is so limited,
+should do harm, galls my very soul. ****** may laugh at these
+qualms--but, supposing Mr. ------ to be unworthy, I am not the less to
+blame. Surely it is hell to despise one's self!--I did not want this
+additional vexation--at this time I have many that hang heavily on my
+spirits. I shall not call on you this month--nor stir out.--My stomach
+has been so suddenly and violently affected, I am unable to lean over the
+desk.
+
+MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER VII.
+
+AS I am become a reviewer, I think it right, in the way of business, to
+consider the subject. You have alarmed the editor of the Critical, as the
+advertisement prefixed to the Appendix plainly shows. The Critical
+appears to me to be a timid, mean production, and its success is a
+reflection on the taste and judgment of the public; but, as a body, who
+ever gave it credit for much? The voice of the people is only the voice
+of truth, when some man of abilities has had time to get fast hold of the
+GREAT NOSE of the monster. Of course, local fame is generally a clamour,
+and dies away. The Appendix to the Monthly afforded me more amusement,
+though every article almost wants energy and a _cant_ of virtue and
+liberality is strewed over it; always tame, and eager to pay court to
+established fame. The account of Necker is one unvaried tone of
+admiration. Surely men were born only to provide for the sustenance of
+the body by enfeebling the mind!
+
+MARY.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER VIII.
+
+YOU made me very low-spirited last night, by your manner of talking.--You
+are my only friend--the only person I am _intimate_ with.--I never had a
+father, or a brother--you have been both to me, ever since I knew
+you--yet I have sometimes been very petulant.--I have been thinking of
+those instances of ill-humour and quickness, and they appeared like
+crimes.
+
+Yours sincerely
+
+MARY.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER IX.
+
+Saturday Night.
+
+I AM a mere animal, and instinctive emotions too often silence the
+suggestions of reason. Your note--I can scarcely tell why, hurt me--and
+produced a kind of winterly smile, which diffuses a beam of despondent
+tranquillity over the features. I have been very ill--Heaven knows it was
+more than fancy--After some sleepless, wearisome nights, towards the
+morning I have grown delirious.--Last Thursday, in particular, I imagined
+------ was thrown into great distress by his folly; and I, unable to
+assist him, was in an agony. My nerves were in such a painful state of
+irritation--I suffered more than I can express--Society was
+necessary--and might have diverted me till I gained more strength; but I
+blushed when I recollected how often I had teazed you with childish
+complaints, and the reveries of a disordered imagination. I even
+_imagined_ that I intruded on you, because you never called on me--though
+you perceived that I was not well.--I have nourished a sickly kind of
+delicacy, which gives me many unnecessary pangs.--I acknowledge that life
+is but a jest--and often a frightful dream--yet catch myself every day
+searching for something serious--and feel real misery from the
+disappointment. I am a strange compound of weakness and resolution!
+However, if I must suffer, I will endeavour to suffer in silence. There
+is certainly a great defect in my mind--my wayward heart creates its own
+misery--Why I am made thus I cannot tell; and, till I can form some idea
+of the whole of my existence, I must be content to weep and dance like a
+child--long for a toy, and be tired of it as soon as I get it.
+
+We must each of us wear a fool's cap; but mine, alas! has lost its bells,
+and is grown so heavy, I find it intolerably troublesome.----Good-night!
+I have been pursuing a number of strange thoughts since I began to write,
+and have actually both wept and laughed immoderately--Surely I am a
+fool--
+
+MARY W.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER X.
+
+Monday Morning.
+
+I REALLY want a German grammar, as I intend to attempt to learn that
+language--and I will tell you the reason why.--While I live, I am
+persuaded, I must exert my understanding to procure an independence, and
+render myself useful. To make the task easier, I ought to store my mind
+with knowledge--The seed time is passing away. I see the necessity of
+labouring now--and of that necessity I do not complain; on the contrary,
+I am thankful that I have more than common incentives to pursue
+knowledge, and draw my pleasures from the employments that are within my
+reach. You perceive this is not a gloomy day--I feel at this moment
+particularly grateful to you--without your humane and _delicate_
+assistance, how many obstacles should I not have had to encounter--too
+often should I have been out of patience with my fellow-creatures, whom I
+wish to love!--Allow me to love you, my dear sir, and call friend a being
+I respect.--Adieu!
+
+MARY W.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER XI.
+
+I THOUGHT you _very_ unkind, nay, very unfeeling, last night. My cares
+and vexations--I will say what I allow myself to think--do me honour, as
+they arise from my disinterestedness and _unbending_ principles; nor can
+that mode of conduct be a reflection on my understanding, which enables
+me to bear misery, rather than selfishly live for myself alone. I am not
+the only character deserving of respect, that has had to struggle with
+various sorrows--while inferior minds have enjoyed local fame and present
+comfort.--Dr. Johnson's cares almost drove him mad--but, I suppose, you
+would quietly have told him, he was a fool for not being calm, and that
+wise men striving against the stream, can yet be in good humour. I have
+done with insensible human wisdom,--"indifference cold in wisdom's
+guise,"--and turn to the source of perfection--who perhaps never
+disregarded an almost broken heart, especially when a respect, a
+practical respect, for virtue, sharpened the wounds of adversity. I am
+ill--I stayed in bed this morning till eleven o'clock, only thinking of
+getting money to extricate myself out of some of my difficulties--The
+struggle is now over. I will condescend to try to obtain some in a
+disagreeable way.
+
+Mr. ------ called on me just now--pray did you know his motive for
+calling[82-A]?--I think him impertinently officious.--He had left the
+house before it occurred to me in the strong light it does now, or I
+should have told him so--My poverty makes me proud--I will not be
+insulted by a superficial puppy.--His intimacy with Miss ------ gave him
+a privilege, which he should not have assumed with me--a proposal might
+be made to his cousin, a milliner's girl, which should not have been
+mentioned to me. Pray tell him that I am offended--and do not wish to see
+him again!--When I meet him at your house, I shall leave the room, since
+I cannot pull him by the nose. I can force my spirit to leave my
+body--but it shall never bend to support that body--God of heaven, save
+thy child from this living death!--I scarcely know what I write. My hand
+trembles--I am very sick--sick at heart.----
+
+MARY.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER XII.
+
+Tuesday Evening.
+
+Sir,
+
+WHEN you left me this morning, and I reflected a moment--your _officious_
+message, which at first appeared to me a joke--looked so very like an
+insult--I cannot forget it--To prevent then the necessity of forcing a
+smile--when I chance to meet you--I take the earliest opportunity of
+informing you of my real sentiments.
+
+MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER XIII.
+
+Wednesday, 3 o'clock.
+
+Sir,
+
+IT is inexpressibly disagreeable to me to be obliged to enter again on a
+subject, that has already raised a tumult of _indignant_ emotions in my
+bosom, which I was labouring to suppress when I received your letter. I
+shall now _condescend_ to answer your epistle; but let me first tell you,
+that, in my _unprotected_ situation, I make a point of never forgiving a
+_deliberate insult_--and in that light I consider your late officious
+conduct. It is not according to my nature to mince matters--I will then
+tell you in plain terms, what I think. I have ever considered you in the
+light of a _civil_ acquaintance--on the word friend I lay a peculiar
+emphasis--and, as a mere acquaintance, you were rude and _cruel_, to step
+forward to insult a woman, whose conduct and misfortunes demand respect.
+If my friend, Mr. Johnson, had made the proposal--I should have been
+severely hurt--have thought him unkind and unfeeling, but not
+_impertinent_.--The privilege of intimacy you had no claim to--and should
+have referred the man to myself--if you had not sufficient discernment to
+quash it at once. I am, sir, poor and destitute.--Yet I have a spirit
+that will never bend, or take indirect methods, to obtain the consequence
+I despise; nay, if to support life it was necessary to act contrary to my
+principles, the struggle would soon be over. I can bear any thing but my
+own contempt.
+
+In a few words, what I call an insult, is the bare supposition that I
+could for a moment think of _prostituting_ my person for a maintenance;
+for in that point of view does such a marriage appear to me, who consider
+right and wrong in the abstract, and never by words and local opinions
+shield myself from the reproaches of my own heart and understanding.
+
+It is needless to say more--Only you must excuse me when I add, that I
+wish never to see, but as a perfect stranger, a person who could so
+grossly mistake my character. An apology is not necessary--if you were
+inclined to make one--nor any further expostulations.--I again repeat, I
+cannot overlook an affront; few indeed have sufficient delicacy to
+respect poverty, even where it gives lustre to a character--and I tell
+you sir, I am POOR--yet can live without your benevolent exertions.
+
+MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER XIV.
+
+I SEND you _all_ the books I had to review except Dr. J--'s Sermons,
+which I have begun. If you wish me to look over any more trash this
+month--you must send it directly. I have been so low-spirited since I saw
+you--I was quite glad, last night, to feel myself affected by some
+passages in Dr. J--'s sermon on the death of his wife--I seemed
+(suddenly) to _find_ my _soul_ again--It has been for some time I cannot
+tell where. Send me the Speaker--and _Mary_, I want one--and I shall soon
+want some paper--you may as well send it at the same time--for I am
+trying to brace my nerves that I may be industrious.--I am afraid reason
+is not a good bracer--for I have been reasoning a long time with my
+untoward spirits--and yet my hand trembles.--I could finish a period very
+_prettily_ now, by saying that it ought to be steady when I add that I am
+yours sincerely,
+
+MARY.
+
+If you do not like the manner in which I reviewed Dr. J--'s s---- on his
+wife, be it known unto you--I _will_ not do it any other way--I felt some
+pleasure in paying a just tribute of respect to the memory of a
+man--who, spite of his faults, I have an affection for--I say _have_, for
+I believe he is somewhere--_where_ my soul has been gadding perhaps;--but
+_you_ do not live on conjectures.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER XV.
+
+MY dear sir, I send you a chapter which I am pleased with, now I see it
+in one point of view--and, as I have made free with the author, I hope
+you will not have often to say--what does this mean?
+
+You forgot you were to make out my account--I am, of course, over head
+and ears in debt; but I have not that kind of pride, which makes some
+dislike to be obliged to those they respect.--On the contrary, when I
+involuntarily lament that I have not a father or brother, I thankfully
+recollect that I have received unexpected kindness from you and a few
+others.--So reason allows, what nature impels me to--for I cannot live
+without loving my fellow-creatures--nor can I love them, without
+discovering some virtue.
+
+MARY.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LETTER XVI.
+
+Paris, December 26, 1792.
+
+I SHOULD immediately on the receipt of your letter, my dear friend, have
+thanked you for your punctuality, for it highly gratified me, had I not
+wished to wait till I could tell you that this day was not stained with
+blood. Indeed the prudent precautions taken by the National Convention to
+prevent a tumult, made me suppose that the dogs of faction would not dare
+to bark, much less to bite, however true to their scent; and I was not
+mistaken; for the citizens, who were all called out, are returning home
+with composed countenances, shouldering their arms. About nine o'clock
+this morning, the king passed by my window, moving silently along
+(excepting now and then a few strokes on the drum, which rendered the
+stillness more awful) through empty streets, surrounded by the national
+guards, who, clustering round the carriage, seemed to deserve their name.
+The inhabitants flocked to their windows, but the casements were all
+shut, not a voice was heard, nor did I see any thing like an insulting
+gesture.--For the first time since I entered France, I bowed to the
+majesty of the people, and respected the propriety of behaviour so
+perfectly in unison with my own feelings. I can scarcely tell you why,
+but an association of ideas made the tears flow insensibly from my eyes,
+when I saw Louis sitting, with more dignity than I expected from his
+character, in a hackney coach, going to meet death, where so many of his
+race have triumphed. My fancy instantly brought Louis XIV before me,
+entering the capital with all his pomp, after one of the victories most
+flattering to his pride, only to see the sunshine of prosperity
+overshadowed by the sublime gloom of misery. I have been alone ever
+since; and, though my mind is calm, I cannot dismiss the lively images
+that have filled my imagination all the day.--Nay, do not smile, but pity
+me; for, once or twice, lifting my eyes from the paper, I have seen eyes
+glare through a glass-door opposite my chair and bloody hands shook at
+me. Not the distant sound of a footstep can I hear.--My apartments are
+remote from those of the servants, the only persons who sleep with me in
+an immense hotel, one folding door opening after another.--I wish I had
+even kept the cat with me!--I want to see something alive; death in so
+many frightful shapes has taken hold of my fancy.--I am going to
+bed--and, for the first time in my life, I cannot put out the candle.
+
+M. W.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[67-A] To Original Stories.
+
+[69-A] Countess Mount Cashel.
+
+[82-A] This alludes to a foolish proposal of marriage for mercenary
+considerations, which the gentleman here mentioned thought proper to
+recommend to her. The two letters which immediately follow, are addressed
+to the gentleman himself.
+
+
+
+
+EXTRACT
+
+OF THE
+
+CAVE OF FANCY.
+
+A TALE.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[_Begun to be written in the year 1787, but never completed_]
+
+
+CAVE OF FANCY.
+
+
+
+
+CHAP. I.
+
+
+YE who expect constancy where every thing is changing, and peace in the
+midst of tumult, attend to the voice of experience, and mark in time the
+footsteps of disappointment, or life will be lost in desultory wishes,
+and death arrive before the dawn of wisdom.
+
+In a sequestered valley, surrounded by rocky mountains that intercepted
+many of the passing clouds, though sunbeams variegated their ample sides,
+lived a sage, to whom nature had unlocked her most hidden secrets. His
+hollow eyes, sunk in their orbits, retired from the view of vulgar
+objects, and turned inwards, overleaped the boundary prescribed to human
+knowledge. Intense thinking during fourscore and ten years, had whitened
+the scattered locks on his head, which, like the summit of the distant
+mountain, appeared to be bound by an eternal frost.
+
+On the sandy waste behind the mountains, the track of ferocious beasts
+might be traced, and sometimes the mangled limbs which they left,
+attracted a hovering flight of birds of prey. An extensive wood the sage
+had forced to rear its head in a soil by no means congenial, and the firm
+trunks of the trees seemed to frown with defiance on time; though the
+spoils of innumerable summers covered the roots, which resembled fangs;
+so closely did they cling to the unfriendly sand, where serpents hissed,
+and snakes, rolling out their vast folds, inhaled the noxious vapours.
+The ravens and owls who inhabited the solitude, gave also a thicker gloom
+to the everlasting twilight, and the croaking of the former a monotony,
+in unison with the gloom; whilst lions and tygers, shunning even this
+faint semblance of day, sought the dark caverns, and at night, when they
+shook off sleep, their roaring would make the whole valley resound,
+confounded with the screechings of the bird of night.
+
+One mountain rose sublime, towering above all, on the craggy sides of
+which a few sea-weeds grew, washed by the ocean, that with tumultuous
+roar rushed to assault, and even undermine, the huge barrier that stopped
+its progress; and ever and anon a ponderous mass, loosened from the
+cliff, to which it scarcely seemed to adhere, always threatening to fall,
+fell into the flood, rebounding as it fell, and the sound was re-echoed
+from rock to rock. Look where you would, all was without form, as if
+nature, suddenly stopping her hand, had left chaos a retreat.
+
+Close to the most remote side of it was the sage's abode. It was a rude
+hut, formed of stumps of trees and matted twigs, to secure him from the
+inclemency of the weather; only through small apertures crossed with
+rushes, the wind entered in wild murmurs, modulated by these
+obstructions. A clear spring broke out of the middle of the adjacent
+rock, which, dropping slowly into a cavity it had hollowed, soon
+overflowed, and then ran, struggling to free itself from the cumbrous
+fragments, till, become a deep, silent stream, it escaped through reeds,
+and roots of trees, whose blasted tops overhung and darkened the current.
+
+One side of the hut was supported by the rock, and at midnight, when the
+sage struck the inclosed part, it yawned wide, and admitted him into a
+cavern in the very bowels of the earth, where never human foot before had
+trod; and the various spirits, which inhabit the different regions of
+nature, were here obedient to his potent word. The cavern had been formed
+by the great inundation of waters, when the approach of a comet forced
+them from their source; then, when the fountains of the great deep were
+broken up, a stream rushed out of the centre of the earth, where the
+spirits, who have lived on it, are confined to purify themselves from
+the dross contracted in their first stage of existence; and it flowed in
+black waves, for ever bubbling along the cave, the extent of which had
+never been explored. From the sides and top, water distilled, and,
+petrifying as it fell, took fantastic shapes, that soon divided it into
+apartments, if so they might be called. In the foam, a wearied spirit
+would sometimes rise, to catch the most distant glimpse of light, or
+taste the vagrant breeze, which the yawning of the rock admitted, when
+Sagestus, for that was the name of the hoary sage, entered. Some, who
+were refined and almost cleared from vicious spots, he would allow to
+leave, for a limited time, their dark prison-house; and, flying on the
+winds across the bleak northern ocean, or rising in an exhalation till
+they reached a sun-beam, they thus re-visited the haunts of men. These
+were the guardian angels, who in soft whispers restrain the vicious, and
+animate the wavering wretch who stands suspended between virtue and vice.
+
+Sagestus had spent a night in the cavern, as he often did, and he left
+the silent vestibule of the grave, just as the sun, emerging from the
+ocean, dispersed the clouds, which were not half so dense as those he had
+left. All that was human in him rejoiced at the sight of reviving life,
+and he viewed with pleasure the mounting sap rising to expand the herbs,
+which grew spontaneously in this wild--when, turning his eyes towards the
+sea, he found that death had been at work during his absence, and
+terrific marks of a furious storm still spread horror around. Though the
+day was serene, and threw bright rays on eyes for ever shut, it dawned
+not for the wretches who hung pendent on the craggy rocks, or were
+stretched lifeless on the sand. Some, struggling, had dug themselves a
+grave; others had resigned their breath before the impetuous surge
+whirled them on shore. A few, in whom the vital spark was not so soon
+dislodged, had clung to loose fragments; it was the grasp of death;
+embracing the stone, they stiffened; and the head, no longer erect,
+rested on the mass which the arms encircled. It felt not the agonizing
+gripe, nor heard the sigh that broke the heart in twain.
+
+Resting his chin on an oaken club, the sage looked on every side, to see
+if he could discern any who yet breathed. He drew nearer, and thought he
+saw, at the first glance, the unclosed eyes glare; but soon perceived
+that they were a mere glassy substance, mute as the tongue; the jaws were
+fallen, and, in some of the tangled locks, hands were clinched; nay, even
+the nails had entered sharpened by despair. The blood flew rapidly to his
+heart; it was flesh; he felt he was still a man, and the big tear paced
+down his iron cheeks, whose muscles had not for a long time been relaxed
+by such humane emotions. A moment he breathed quick, then heaved a sigh,
+and his wonted calm returned with an unaccustomed glow of tenderness; for
+the ways of heaven were not hid from him; he lifted up his eyes to the
+common Father of nature, and all was as still in his bosom, as the smooth
+deep, after having closed over the huge vessel from which the wretches
+had fled.
+
+Turning round a part of the rock that jutted out, meditating on the ways
+of Providence, a weak infantine voice reached his ears; it was lisping
+out the name of mother. He looked, and beheld a blooming child leaning
+over, and kissing with eager fondness, lips that were insensible to the
+warm pressure. Starting at the sight of the sage, she fixed her eyes on
+him, "Wake her, ah! wake her," she cried, "or the sea will catch us."
+Again he felt compassion, for he saw that the mother slept the sleep of
+death. He stretched out his hand, and, smoothing his brow, invited her to
+approach; but she still intreated him to wake her mother, whom she
+continued to call, with an impatient tremulous voice. To detach her from
+the body by persuasion would not have been very easy. Sagestus had a
+quicker method to effect his purpose; he took out a box which contained a
+soporific powder, and as soon as the fumes reached her brain, the powers
+of life were suspended.
+
+He carried her directly to his hut, and left her sleeping profoundly on
+his rushy couch.
+
+
+
+
+CHAP. II.
+
+
+AGAIN Sagestus approached the dead, to view them with a more scrutinizing
+eye. He was perfectly acquainted with the construction of the human body,
+knew the traces that virtue or vice leaves on the whole frame; they were
+now indelibly fixed by death; nay more, he knew by the shape of the solid
+structure, how far the spirit could range, and saw the barrier beyond
+which it could not pass: the mazes of fancy he explored, measured the
+stretch of thought, and, weighing all in an even balance, could tell whom
+nature had stamped an hero, a poet, or philosopher.
+
+By their appearance, at a transient glance, he knew that the vessel must
+have contained many passengers, and that some of them were above the
+vulgar, with respect to fortune and education; he then walked leisurely
+among the dead, and narrowly observed their pallid features.
+
+His eye first rested on a form in which proportion reigned, and, stroking
+back the hair, a spacious forehead met his view; warm fancy had revelled
+there, and her airy dance had left vestiges, scarcely visible to a mortal
+eye. Some perpendicular lines pointed out that melancholy had
+predominated in his constitution; yet the straggling hairs of his
+eye-brows showed that anger had often shook his frame; indeed, the four
+temperatures, like the four elements, had resided in this little world,
+and produced harmony. The whole visage was bony, and an energetic frown
+had knit the flexible skin of his brow; the kingdom within had been
+extensive; and the wild creations of fancy had there "a local habitation
+and a name." So exquisite was his sensibility, so quick his
+comprehension, that he perceived various combinations in an instant; he
+caught truth as she darted towards him, saw all her fair proportion at a
+glance, and the flash of his eye spoke the quick senses which conveyed
+intelligence to his mind; the sensorium indeed was capacious, and the
+sage imagined he saw the lucid beam, sparkling with love or ambition, in
+characters of fire, which a graceful curve of the upper eyelid shaded.
+The lips were a little deranged by contempt; and a mixture of vanity and
+self-complacency formed a few irregular lines round them. The chin had
+suffered from sensuality, yet there were still great marks of vigour in
+it, as if advanced with stern dignity. The hand accustomed to command,
+and even tyrannize, was unnerved; but its appearance convinced Sagestus,
+that he had oftener wielded a thought than a weapon; and that he had
+silenced, by irresistible conviction, the superficial disputant, and the
+being, who doubted because he had not strength to believe, who, wavering
+between different borrowed opinions, first caught at one straw, then at
+another, unable to settle into any consistency of character. After gazing
+a few moments, Sagestus turned away exclaiming, How are the stately oaks
+torn up by a tempest, and the bow unstrung, that could force the arrow
+beyond the ken of the eye!
+
+What a different face next met his view! The forehead was short, yet well
+set together; the nose small, but a little turned up at the end; and a
+draw-down at the sides of his mouth, proved that he had been a humourist,
+who minded the main chance, and could joke with his acquaintance, while
+he eagerly devoured a dainty which he was not to pay for. His lips shut
+like a box whose hinges had often been mended; and the muscles, which
+display the soft emotion of the heart on the cheeks, were grown quite
+rigid, so that, the vessels that should have moistened them not having
+much communication with the grand source of passions, the fine volatile
+fluid had evaporated, and they became mere dry fibres, which might be
+pulled by any misfortune that threatened himself, but were not
+sufficiently elastic to be moved by the miseries of others. His joints
+were inserted compactly, and with celerity they had performed all the
+animal functions, without any of the grace which results from the
+imagination mixing with the senses.
+
+A huge form was stretched near him, that exhibited marks of overgrown
+infancy; every part was relaxed; all appeared imperfect. Yet, some
+undulating lines on the puffed-out cheeks, displayed signs of timid,
+servile good nature; and the skin of the forehead had been so often drawn
+up by wonder, that the few hairs of the eyebrows were fixed in a sharp
+arch, whilst an ample chin rested in lobes of flesh on his protuberant
+breast.
+
+By his side was a body that had scarcely ever much life in it--sympathy
+seemed to have drawn them together--every feature and limb was round and
+fleshy, and, if a kind of brutal cunning had not marked the face, it
+might have been mistaken for an automaton, so unmixed was the phlegmatic
+fluid. The vital spark was buried deep in a soft mass of matter,
+resembling the pith in young elder, which, when found, is so equivocal,
+that it only appears a moister part of the same body.
+
+Another part of the beach was covered with sailors, whose bodies
+exhibited marks of strength and brutal courage.--Their characters were
+all different, though of the same class; Sagestus did not stay to
+discriminate them, satisfied with a rough sketch. He saw indolence roused
+by a love of humour, or rather bodily fun; sensuality and prodigality
+with a vein of generosity running through it; a contempt of danger with
+gross superstition; supine senses, only to be kept alive by noisy,
+tumultuous pleasures, or that kind of novelty which borders on absurdity:
+this formed the common outline, and the rest were rather dabs than
+shades.
+
+Sagestus paused, and remembered it had been said by an earthly wit, that
+"many a flower is born to blush unseen, and waste its sweetness on the
+desart air." How little, he exclaimed, did that poet know of the ways of
+heaven! And yet, in this respect, they are direct; the hands before me,
+were designed to pull a rope, knock down a sheep, or perform the servile
+offices of life; no "mute, inglorious poet" rests amongst them, and he
+who is superior to his fellow, does not rise above mediocrity. The genius
+that sprouts from a dunghil soon shakes off the heterogenous mass; those
+only grovel, who have not power to fly.
+
+He turned his step towards the mother of the orphan: another female was
+at some distance; and a man who, by his garb, might have been the
+husband, or brother, of the former, was not far off.
+
+Him the sage surveyed with an attentive eye, and bowed with respect to
+the inanimate clay, that lately had been the dwelling of a most
+benevolent spirit. The head was square, though the features were not very
+prominent; but there was a great harmony in every part, and the turn of
+the nostrils and lips evinced, that the soul must have had taste, to
+which they had served as organs. Penetration and judgment were seated on
+the brows that overhung the eye. Fixed as it was, Sagestus quickly
+discerned the expression it must have had; dark and pensive, rather from
+slowness of comprehension than melancholy, it seemed to absorb the light
+of knowledge, to drink it in ray by ray; nay, a new one was not allowed
+to enter his head till the last was arranged: an opinion was thus
+cautiously received, and maturely weighed, before it was added to the
+general stock. As nature led him to mount from a part to the whole, he
+was most conversant with the beautiful, and rarely comprehended the
+sublime; yet, said Sagestus, with a softened tone, he was all heart, full
+of forbearance, and desirous to please every fellow-creature; but from a
+nobler motive than a love of admiration; the fumes of vanity never
+mounted to cloud his brain, or tarnish his beneficence. The fluid in
+which those placid eyes swam, is now congealed; how often has tenderness
+given them the finest water! Some torn parts of the child's dress hung
+round his arm, which led the sage to conclude, that he had saved the
+child; every line in his face confirmed the conjecture; benevolence
+indeed strung the nerves that naturally were not very firm; it was the
+great knot that tied together the scattered qualities, and gave the
+distinct stamp to the character.
+
+The female whom he next approached, and supposed to be an attendant on
+the other, was below the middle size, and her legs were so
+disproportionably short, that, when she moved, she must have waddled
+along; her elbows were drawn in to touch her long taper, waist, and the
+air of her whole body was an affectation of gentility. Death could not
+alter the rigid hang of her limbs, or efface the simper that had
+stretched her mouth; the lips were thin, as if nature intended she should
+mince her words; her nose was small, and sharp at the end; and the
+forehead, unmarked by eyebrows, was wrinkled by the discontent that had
+sunk her cheeks, on which Sagestus still discerned faint traces of
+tenderness; and fierce good-nature, he perceived had sometimes animated
+the little spark of an eye that anger had oftener lighted. The same
+thought occurred to him that the sight of the sailors had suggested, Men
+and women are all in their proper places--this female was intended to
+fold up linen and nurse the sick.
+
+Anxious to observe the mother of his charge, he turned to the lily that
+had been so rudely snapped, and, carefully observing it, traced every
+fine line to its source. There was a delicacy in her form, so truly
+feminine, that an involuntary desire to cherish such a being, made the
+sage again feel the almost forgotten sensations of his nature. On
+observing her more closely, he discovered that her natural delicacy had
+been increased by an improper education, to a degree that took away all
+vigour from her faculties. And its baneful influence had had such an
+effect on her mind, that few traces of the exertions of it appeared on
+her face, though the fine finish of her features, and particularly the
+form of the forehead, convinced the sage that her understanding might
+have risen considerably above mediocrity, had the wheels ever been put in
+motion; but, clogged by prejudices, they never turned quite round, and,
+whenever she considered a subject, she stopped before she came to a
+conclusion. Assuming a mask of propriety, she had banished nature; yet
+its tendency was only to be diverted, not stifled. Some lines, which took
+from the symmetry of the mouth, not very obvious to a superficial
+observer, struck Sagestus, and they appeared to him characters of
+indolent obstinacy. Not having courage to form an opinion of her own, she
+adhered, with blind partiality, to those she adopted, which she received
+in the lump, and, as they always remained unopened, of course she only
+saw the even gloss on the outside. Vestiges of anger were visible on her
+brow, and the sage concluded, that she had often been offended with, and
+indeed would scarcely make any allowance for, those who did not coincide
+with her in opinion, as things always appear self-evident that have never
+been examined; yet her very weakness gave a charming timidity to her
+countenance; goodness and tenderness pervaded every lineament, and melted
+in her dark blue eyes. The compassion that wanted activity, was sincere,
+though it only embellished her face, or produced casual acts of charity
+when a moderate alms could relieve present distress. Unacquainted with
+life, fictitious, unnatural distress drew the tears that were not shed
+for real misery. In its own shape, human wretchedness excites a little
+disgust in the mind that has indulged sickly refinement. Perhaps the
+sage gave way to a little conjecture in drawing the last conclusion; but
+his conjectures generally arose from distinct ideas, and a dawn of light
+allowed him to see a great way farther than common mortals.
+
+He was now convinced that the orphan was not very unfortunate in having
+lost such a mother. The parent that inspires fond affection without
+respect, is seldom an useful one; and they only are respectable, who
+consider right and wrong abstracted from local forms and accidental
+modifications.
+
+Determined to adopt the child, he named it after himself, Sagesta, and
+retired to the hut where the innocent slept, to think of the best method
+of educating this child, whom the angry deep had spared.
+
+[The last branch of the education of Sagesta, consisted of a variety of
+characters and stories presented to her in the Cave of Fancy, of which
+the following is a specimen.]
+
+
+
+
+CHAP.
+
+
+A FORM now approached that particularly struck and interested Sagesta.
+The sage, observing what passed in her mind, bade her ever trust to the
+first impression. In life, he continued, try to remember the effect the
+first appearance of a stranger has on your mind; and, in proportion to
+your sensibility, you may decide on the character. Intelligence glances
+from eyes that have the same pursuits, and a benevolent heart soon traces
+the marks of benevolence on the countenance of an unknown
+fellow-creature; and not only the countenance, but the gestures, the
+voice, loudly speak truth to the unprejudiced mind.
+
+Whenever a stranger advances towards you with a tripping step, receives
+you with broad smiles, and a profusion of compliments, and yet you find
+yourself embarrassed and unable to return the salutation with equal
+cordiality, be assured that such a person is affected, and endeavours to
+maintain a very good character in the eyes of the world, without really
+practising the social virtues which dress the face in looks of unfeigned
+complacency. Kindred minds are drawn to each other by expressions which
+elude description; and, like the calm breeze that plays on a smooth lake,
+they are rather felt than seen. Beware of a man who always appears in
+good humour; a selfish design too frequently lurks in the smiles the
+heart never curved; or there is an affectation of candour that destroys
+all strength of character, by blending truth and falshood into an
+unmeaning mass. The mouth, in fact, seems to be the feature where you may
+trace every kind of dissimulation, from the simper of vanity, to the
+fixed smile of the designing villain. Perhaps, the modulations of the
+voice will still more quickly give a key to the character than even the
+turns of the mouth, or the words that issue from it; often do the tones
+of unpractised dissemblers give the lie to their assertions. Many people
+never speak in an unnatural voice, but when they are insincere: the
+phrases not corresponding with the dictates of the heart, have nothing to
+keep them in tune. In the course of an argument however, you may easily
+discover whether vanity or conviction stimulates the disputant, though
+his inflated countenance may be turned from you, and you may not see the
+gestures which mark self-sufficiency. He stopped, and the spirit began.
+
+I have wandered through the cave; and, as soon as I have taught you a
+useful lesson, I shall take my flight where my tears will cease to flow,
+and where mine eyes will no more be shocked with the sight of guilt and
+sorrow. Before many moons have changed, thou wilt enter, O mortal! into
+that world I have lately left. Listen to my warning voice, and trust not
+too much to the goodness which I perceive resides in thy breast. Let it
+be reined in by principles, lest thy very virtue sharpen the sting of
+remorse, which as naturally follows disorder in the moral world, as pain
+attends on intemperance in the physical. But my history will afford you
+more instruction than mere advice. Sagestus concurred in opinion with
+her, observing that the senses of children should be the first object of
+improvement; then their passions worked on; and judgment the fruit, must
+be the acquirement of the being itself, when out of leading-strings. The
+spirit bowed assent, and, without any further prelude, entered on her
+history.
+
+My mother was a most respectable character, but she was yoked to a man
+whose follies and vices made her ever feel the weight of her chains. The
+first sensation I recollect, was pity; for I have seen her weep over me
+and the rest of her babes, lamenting that the extravagance of a father
+would throw us destitute on the world. But, though my father was
+extravagant, and seldom thought of any thing but his own pleasures, our
+education was not neglected. In solitude, this employment was my mother's
+only solace; and my father's pride made him procure us masters; nay,
+sometimes he was so gratified by our improvement, that he would embrace
+us with tenderness, and intreat my mother to forgive him, with marks of
+real contrition. But the affection his penitence gave rise to, only
+served to expose her to continual disappointments, and keep hope alive
+merely to torment her. After a violent debauch he would let his beard
+grow, and the sadness that reigned in the house I shall never forget; he
+was ashamed to meet even the eyes of his children. This is so contrary to
+the nature of things, it gave me exquisite pain; I used, at those times,
+to show him extreme respect. I could not bear to see my parent humble
+himself before me. However neither his constitution, nor fortune could
+long bear the constant waste. He had, I have observed, a childish
+affection for his children, which was displayed in caresses that
+gratified him for the moment, yet never restrained the headlong fury of
+his appetites; his momentary repentance wrung his heart, without
+influencing his conduct; and he died, leaving an encumbered wreck of a
+good estate.
+
+As we had always lived in splendid poverty, rather than in affluence, the
+shock was not so great; and my mother repressed her anguish, and
+concealed some circumstances, that she might not shed a destructive
+mildew over the gaiety of youth.
+
+So fondly did I doat on this dear parent, that she engrossed all my
+tenderness; her sorrows had knit me firmly to her, and my chief care was
+to give her proofs of affection. The gallantry that afforded my
+companions, the few young people my mother forced me to mix with, so much
+pleasure, I despised; I wished more to be loved than admired, for I could
+love. I adored virtue; and my imagination, chasing a chimerical object,
+overlooked the common pleasures of life; they were not sufficient for my
+happiness. A latent fire made me burn to rise superior to my
+contemporaries in wisdom and virtue; and tears of joy and emulation
+filled my eyes when I read an account of a great action--I felt
+admiration, not astonishment.
+
+My mother had two particular friends, who endeavoured to settle her
+affairs; one was a middle-aged man, a merchant; the human breast never
+enshrined a more benevolent heart. His manners were rather rough, and he
+bluntly spoke his thoughts without observing the pain it gave; yet he
+possessed extreme tenderness, as far as his discernment went. Men do not
+make sufficient distinction, said she, digressing from her story to
+address Sagestus, between tenderness and sensibility.
+
+To give the shortest definition of sensibility, replied the sage, I
+should say that it is the result of acute senses, finely fashioned
+nerves, which vibrate at the slightest touch, and convey such clear
+intelligence to the brain, that it does not require to be arranged by the
+judgment. Such persons instantly enter into the characters of others, and
+instinctively discern what will give pain to every human being; their own
+feelings are so varied that they seem to contain in themselves, not only
+all the passions of the species, but their various modifications.
+Exquisite pain and pleasure is their portion; nature wears for them a
+different aspect than is displayed to common mortals. One moment it is a
+paradise; all is beautiful: a cloud arises, an emotion receives a sudden
+damp; darkness invades the sky, and the world is an unweeded garden;--but
+go on with your narrative, said Sagestus, recollecting himself.
+
+She proceeded. The man I am describing was humanity itself; but
+frequently he did not understand me; many of my feelings were not to be
+analyzed by his common sense. His friendships, for he had many friends,
+gave him pleasure unmixed with pain; his religion was coldly reasonable,
+because he wanted fancy, and he did not feel the necessity of finding,
+or creating, a perfect object, to answer the one engraved on his heart:
+the sketch there was faint. He went with the stream, and rather caught a
+character from the society he lived in, than spread one around him. In my
+mind many opinions were graven with a pen of brass, which he thought
+chimerical: but time could not erase them, and I now recognize them as
+the seeds of eternal happiness: they will soon expand in those realms
+where I shall enjoy the bliss adapted to my nature; this is all we need
+ask of the Supreme Being; happiness must follow the completion of his
+designs. He however could live quietly, without giving a preponderancy to
+many important opinions that continually obtruded on my mind; not having
+an enthusiastic affection for his fellow creatures, he did them good,
+without suffering from their follies. He was particularly attached to me,
+and I felt for him all the affection of a daughter; often, when he had
+been interesting himself to promote my welfare, have I lamented that he
+was not my father; lamented that the vices of mine had dried up one
+source of pure affection.
+
+The other friend I have already alluded to, was of a very different
+character; greatness of mind, and those combinations of feeling which are
+so difficult to describe, raised him above the throng, that bustle their
+hour out, lie down to sleep, and are forgotten. But I shall soon see him,
+she exclaimed, as much superior to his former self, as he then rose in my
+eyes above his fellow creatures! As she spoke, a glow of delight
+animated each feature; her countenance appeared transparent; and she
+silently anticipated the happiness she should enjoy, when she entered
+those mansions, where death-divided friends should meet, to part no more;
+where human weakness could not damp their bliss, or poison the cup of joy
+that, on earth, drops from the lips as soon as tasted, or, if some daring
+mortal snatches a hasty draught, what was sweet to the taste becomes a
+root of bitterness.
+
+He was unfortunate, had many cares to struggle with, and I marked on his
+cheeks traces of the same sorrows that sunk my own. He was unhappy I say,
+and perhaps pity might first have awoke my tenderness; for, early in
+life, an artful woman worked on his compassionate soul, and he united his
+fate to a being made up of such jarring elements, that he was still
+alone. The discovery did not extinguish that propensity to love, a high
+sense of virtue fed. I saw him sick and unhappy, without a friend to
+sooth the hours languor made heavy; often did I sit a long winter's
+evening by his side, railing at the swift wings of time, and terming my
+love, humanity.
+
+Two years passed in this manner, silently rooting my affection; and it
+might have continued calm, if a fever had not brought him to the very
+verge of the grave. Though still deceived, I was miserable that the
+customs of the world did not allow me to watch by him; when sleep forsook
+his pillow, my wearied eyes were not closed, and my anxious spirit
+hovered round his bed. I saw him, before he had recovered his strength;
+and, when his hand touched mine, life almost retired, or flew to meet
+the touch. The first look found a ready way to my heart, and thrilled
+through every vein. We were left alone, and insensibly began to talk of
+the immortality of the soul; I declared that I could not live without
+this conviction. In the ardour of conversation he pressed my hand to his
+heart; it rested there a moment, and my emotions gave weight to my
+opinion, for the affection we felt was not of a perishable nature.--A
+silence ensued, I know not how long; he then threw my hand from him, as
+if it had been a serpent; formally complained of the weather, and
+adverted to twenty other uninteresting subjects. Vain efforts! Our hearts
+had already spoken to each other.
+
+Feebly did I afterwards combat an affection, which seemed twisted in
+every fibre of my heart. The world stood still when I thought of him; it
+moved heavily at best, with one whose very constitution seemed to mark
+her out for misery. But I will not dwell on the passion I too fondly
+nursed. One only refuge had I on earth; I could not resolutely desolate
+the scene my fancy flew to, when worldly cares, when a knowledge of
+mankind, which my circumstances forced on me, rendered every other
+insipid. I was afraid of the unmarked vacuity of common life; yet, though
+I supinely indulged myself in fairy-land, when I ought to have been more
+actively employed, virtue was still the first mover of my actions; she
+dressed my love in such enchanting colours, and spread the net I could
+never break. Our corresponding feelings confounded our very souls; and
+in many conversations we almost intuitively discerned each other's
+sentiments; the heart opened itself, not chilled by reserve, nor afraid
+of misconstruction. But, if virtue inspired love, love gave new energy to
+virtue, and absorbed every selfish passion. Never did even a wish escape
+me, that my lover should not fulfil the hard duties which fate had
+imposed on him. I only dissembled with him in one particular; I
+endeavoured to soften his wife's too conspicuous follies, and extenuated
+her failings in an indirect manner. To this I was prompted by a loftiness
+of spirit; I should have broken the band of life, had I ceased to respect
+myself. But I will hasten to an important change in my circumstances.
+
+My mother, who had concealed the real state of her affairs from me, was
+now impelled to make me her confident, that I might assist to discharge
+her mighty debt of gratitude. The merchant, my more than father, had
+privately assisted her: but a fatal civil-war reduced his large property
+to a bare competency; and an inflammation in his eyes, that arose from a
+cold he had caught at a wreck, which he watched during a stormy night to
+keep off the lawless colliers, almost deprived him of sight. His life had
+been spent in society, and he scarcely knew how to fill the void; for his
+spirit would not allow him to mix with his former equals as an humble
+companion; he who had been treated with uncommon respect, could not brook
+their insulting pity. From the resource of solitude, reading, the
+complaint in his eyes cut him off, and he became our constant visitor.
+
+Actuated by the sincerest affection, I used to read to him, and he
+mistook my tenderness for love. How could I undeceive him, when every
+circumstance frowned on him! Too soon I found that I was his only
+comfort; I, who rejected his hand when fortune smiled, could not now
+second her blow; and, in a moment of enthusiastic gratitude and tender
+compassion, I offered him my hand.--It was received with pleasure;
+transport was not made for his soul; nor did he discover that nature had
+separated us, by making me alive to such different sensations. My mother
+was to live with us, and I dwelt on this circumstance to banish cruel
+recollections, when the bent bow returned to its former state.
+
+With a bursting heart and a firm voice, I named the day when I was to
+seal my promise. It came, in spite of my regret; I had been previously
+preparing myself for the awful ceremony, and answered the solemn question
+with a resolute tone, that would silence the dictates of my heart; it was
+a forced, unvaried one; had nature modulated it, my secret would have
+escaped. My active spirit was painfully on the watch to repress every
+tender emotion. The joy in my venerable parent's countenance, the
+tenderness of my husband, as he conducted me home, for I really had a
+sincere affection for him, the gratulations of my mind, when I thought
+that this sacrifice was heroic, all tended to deceive me; but the joy of
+victory over the resigned, pallid look of my lover, haunted my
+imagination, and fixed itself in the centre of my brain.--Still I
+imagined, that his spirit was near me, that he only felt sorrow for my
+loss, and without complaint resigned me to my duty.
+
+I was left alone a moment; my two elbows rested on a table to support my
+chin. Ten thousand thoughts darted with astonishing velocity through my
+mind. My eyes were dry; I was on the brink of madness. At this moment a
+strange association was made by my imagination; I thought of Gallileo,
+who when he left the inquisition, looked upwards, and cried out, "Yet it
+moves." A shower of tears, like the refreshing drops of heaven, relieved
+my parched sockets; they fell disregarded on the table; and, stamping
+with my foot, in an agony I exclaimed, "Yet I love." My husband entered
+before I had calmed these tumultuous emotions, and tenderly took my
+hand. I snatched it from him; grief and surprise were marked on his
+countenance; I hastily stretched it out again. My heart smote me, and I
+removed the transient mist by an unfeigned endeavour to please him.
+
+A few months after, my mind grew calmer; and, if a treacherous
+imagination, if feelings many accidents revived, sometimes plunged me
+into melancholy, I often repeated with steady conviction, that virtue was
+not an empty name, and that, in following the dictates of duty, I had not
+bidden adieu to content.
+
+In the course of a few years, the dear object of my fondest affection,
+said farewel, in dying accents. Thus left alone, my grief became dear;
+and I did not feel solitary, because I thought I might, without a crime,
+indulge a passion, that grew more ardent than ever when my imagination
+only presented him to my view, and restored my former activity of soul
+which the late calm had rendered torpid. I seemed to find myself again,
+to find the eccentric warmth that gave me identity of character. Reason
+had governed my conduct, but could not change my nature; this voluptuous
+sorrow was superior to every gratification of sense, and death more
+firmly united our hearts.
+
+Alive to every human affection, I smoothed my mothers passage to
+eternity, and so often gave my husband sincere proofs of affection, he
+never supposed that I was actuated by a more fervent attachment. My
+melancholy, my uneven spirits, he attributed to my extreme sensibility,
+and loved me the better for possessing qualities he could not
+comprehend.
+
+At the close of a summer's day, some years after, I wandered with
+careless steps over a pathless common; various anxieties had rendered the
+hours which the sun had enlightened heavy; sober evening came on; I
+wished to still "my mind, and woo lone quiet in her silent walk." The
+scene accorded with my feelings; it was wild and grand; and the spreading
+twilight had almost confounded the distant sea with the barren, blue
+hills that melted from my sight. I sat down on a rising ground; the rays
+of the departing sun illumined the horizon, but so indistinctly, that I
+anticipated their total extinction. The death of Nature led me to a still
+more interesting subject, that came home to my bosom, the death of him I
+loved. A village-bell was tolling; I listened, and thought of the moment
+when I heard his interrupted breath, and felt the agonizing fear, that
+the same sound would never more reach my ears, and that the intelligence
+glanced from my eyes, would no more be felt. The spoiler had seized his
+prey; the sun was fled, what was this world to me! I wandered to another,
+where death and darkness could not enter; I pursued the sun beyond the
+mountains, and the soul escaped from this vale of tears. My reflections
+were tinged with melancholy, but they were sublime.--I grasped a mighty
+whole, and smiled on the king of terrors; the tie which bound me to my
+friends he could not break; the same mysterious knot united me to the
+source of all goodness and happiness. I had seen the divinity reflected
+in a face I loved; I had read immortal characters displayed on a human
+countenance, and forgot myself whilst I gazed. I could not think of
+immortality, without recollecting the ecstacy I felt, when my heart first
+whispered to me that I was beloved; and again did I feel the sacred tie
+of mutual affection; fervently I prayed to the father of mercies; and
+rejoiced that he could see every turn of a heart, whose movements I could
+not perfectly understand. My passion seemed a pledge of immortality; I
+did not wish to hide it from the all-searching eye of heaven. Where
+indeed could I go from his presence? and, whilst it was dear to me,
+though darkness might reign during the night of life, joy would come when
+I awoke to life everlasting.
+
+I now turned my step towards home, when the appearance of a girl, who
+stood weeping on the common, attracted my attention. I accosted her, and
+soon heard her simple tale; that her father was gone to sea, and her
+mother sick in bed. I followed her to their little dwelling, and relieved
+the sick wretch. I then again sought my own abode; but death did not now
+haunt my fancy. Contriving to give the poor creature I had left more
+effectual relief, I reached my own garden-gate very weary, and rested on
+it.--Recollecting the turns of my mind during the walk, I exclaimed,
+Surely life may thus be enlivened by active benevolence, and the sleep of
+death, like that I am now disposed to fall into, may be sweet!
+
+My life was now unmarked by any extraordinary change, and a few days ago
+I entered this cavern; for through it every mortal must pass; and here I
+have discovered, that I neglected many opportunities of being useful,
+whilst I fostered a devouring flame. Remorse has not reached me, because
+I firmly adhered to my principles, and I have also discovered that I saw
+through a false medium. Worthy as the mortal was I adored, I should not
+long have loved him with the ardour I did, had fate united us, and broken
+the delusion the imagination so artfully wove. His virtues, as they now
+do, would have extorted my esteem; but he who formed the human soul, only
+can fill it, and the chief happiness of an immortal being must arise from
+the same source as its existence. Earthly love leads to heavenly, and
+prepares us for a more exalted state; if it does not change its nature,
+and destroy itself, by trampling on the virtue, that constitutes its
+essence, and allies us to the Deity.
+
+
+
+
+ON
+
+POETRY,
+
+AND
+
+OUR RELISH FOR THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE.
+
+
+ON
+
+POETRY, &c.
+
+
+A TASTE for rural scenes, in the present state of society, appears to be
+very often an artificial sentiment, rather inspired by poetry and
+romances, than a real perception of the beauties of nature. But, as it is
+reckoned a proof of refined taste to praise the calm pleasures which the
+country affords, the theme is never exhausted. Yet it may be made a
+question, whether this romantic kind of declamation, has much effect on
+the conduct of those, who leave, for a season, the crowded cities in
+which they were bred.
+
+I have been led to these reflections, by observing, when I have resided
+for any length of time in the country, how few people seem to contemplate
+nature with their own eyes. I have "brushed the dew away" in the morning;
+but, pacing over the printless grass, I have wondered that, in such
+delightful situations, the sun was allowed to rise in solitary majesty,
+whilst my eyes alone hailed its beautifying beams. The webs of the
+evening have still been spread across the hedged path, unless some
+labouring man, trudging to work, disturbed the fairy structure; yet, in
+spite of this supineness, when I joined the social circle, every tongue
+rang changes on the pleasures of the country.
+
+Having frequently had occasion to make the same observation, I was led to
+endeavour, in one of my solitary rambles, to trace the cause, and
+likewise to enquire why the poetry written in the infancy of society, is
+most natural: which, strictly speaking (for _natural_ is a very
+indefinite expression) is merely to say, that it is the transcript of
+immediate sensations, in all their native wildness and simplicity, when
+fancy, awakened by the sight of interesting objects, was most actively at
+work. At such moments, sensibility quickly furnishes similes, and the
+sublimated spirits combine images, which rising spontaneously, it is not
+necessary coldly to ransack the understanding or memory, till the
+laborious efforts of judgment exclude present sensations, and damp the
+fire of enthusiasm.
+
+The effusions of a vigorous mind, will ever tell us how far the
+understanding has been enlarged by thought, and stored with knowledge.
+The richness of the soil even appears on the surface; and the result of
+profound thinking, often mixing, with playful grace, in the reveries of
+the poet, smoothly incorporates with the ebullitions of animal spirits,
+when the finely fashioned nerve vibrates acutely with rapture, or when,
+relaxed by soft melancholy, a pleasing languor prompts the long-drawn
+sigh, and feeds the slowly falling tear.
+
+The poet, the man of strong feelings, gives us only an image of his mind,
+when he was actually alone, conversing with himself, and marking the
+impression which nature had made on his own heart.--If, at this sacred
+moment, the idea of some departed friend, some tender recollection when
+the soul was most alive to tenderness, intruded unawares into his
+thoughts, the sorrow which it produced is artlessly, yet poetically
+expressed--and who can avoid sympathizing?
+
+Love to man leads to devotion--grand and sublime images strike the
+imagination--God is seen in every floating cloud, and comes from the
+misty mountain to receive the noblest homage of an intelligent
+creature--praise. How solemn is the moment, when all affections and
+remembrances fade before the sublime admiration which the wisdom and
+goodness of God inspires, when he is worshipped in a _temple not made
+with hands_, and the world seems to contain only the mind that formed,
+and the mind that contemplates it! These are not the weak responses of
+ceremonial devotion; nor, to express them, would the poet need another
+poet's aid: his heart burns within him, and he speaks the language of
+truth and nature with resistless energy.
+
+Inequalities, of course, are observable in his effusions; and a less
+vigorous fancy, with more taste, would have produced more elegance and
+uniformity; but, as passages are softened or expunged during the cooler
+moments of reflection, the understanding is gratified at the expence of
+those involuntary sensations, which, like the beauteous tints of an
+evening sky, are so evanescent, that they melt into new forms before they
+can be analyzed. For however eloquently we may boast of our reason, man
+must often be delighted he cannot tell why, or his blunt feelings are not
+made to relish the beauties which nature, poetry, or any of the imitative
+arts, afford.
+
+The imagery of the ancients seems naturally to have been borrowed from
+surrounding objects and their mythology. When a hero is to be transported
+from one place to another, across pathless wastes, is any vehicle so
+natural, as one of the fleecy clouds on which the poet has often gazed,
+scarcely conscious that he wished to make it his chariot? Again, when
+nature seems to present obstacles to his progress at almost every step,
+when the tangled forest and steep mountain stand as barriers, to pass
+over which the mind longs for supernatural aid; an interposing deity, who
+walks on the waves, and rules the storm, severely felt in the first
+attempts to cultivate a country, will receive from the impassioned fancy
+"a local habitation and a name."
+
+It would be a philosophical enquiry, and throw some light on the history
+of the human mind, to trace, as far as our information will allow us to
+trace, the spontaneous feelings and ideas which have produced the images
+that now frequently appear unnatural, because they are remote; and
+disgusting, because they have been servilely copied by poets, whose
+habits of thinking, and views of nature must have been different; for,
+though the understanding seldom disturbs the current of our present
+feelings, without dissipating the gay clouds which fancy has been
+embracing, yet it silently gives the colour to the whole tenour of them,
+and the dream is over, when truth is grossly violated, or images
+introduced, selected from books, and not from local manners or popular
+prejudices.
+
+In a more advanced state of civilization, a poet is rather the creature
+of art, than of nature. The books that he reads in his youth, become a
+hot-bed in which artificial fruits are produced, beautiful to the common
+eye, though they want the true hue and flavour. His images do not arise
+from sensations; they are copies; and, like the works of the painters who
+copy ancient statues when they draw men and women of their own times, we
+acknowledge that the features are fine, and the proportions just; yet
+they are men of stone; insipid figures, that never convey to the mind the
+idea of a portrait taken from life, where the soul gives spirit and
+homogeneity to the whole. The silken wings of fancy are shrivelled by
+rules; and a desire of attaining elegance of diction, occasions an
+attention to words, incompatible with sublime, impassioned thoughts.
+
+A boy of abilities, who has been taught the structure of verse at school,
+and been roused by emulation to compose rhymes whilst he was reading
+works of genius, may, by practice, produce pretty verses, and even become
+what is often termed an elegant poet: yet his readers, without knowing
+what to find fault with, do not find themselves warmly interested. In the
+works of the poets who fasten on their affections, they see grosser
+faults, and the very images which shock their taste in the modern; still
+they do not appear as puerile or extrinsic in one as the
+other.--Why?--because they did not appear so to the author.
+
+It may sound paradoxical, after observing that those productions want
+vigour, that are merely the work of imitation, in which the understanding
+has violently directed, if not extinguished, the blaze of fancy, to
+assert, that, though genius be only another word for exquisite
+sensibility, the first observers of nature, the true poets, exercised
+their understanding much more than their imitators. But they exercised it
+to discriminate things, whilst their followers were busy to borrow
+sentiments and arrange words.
+
+Boys who have received a classical education, load their memory with
+words, and the correspondent ideas are perhaps never distinctly
+comprehended. As a proof of this assertion, I must observe, that I have
+known many young people who could write tolerably smooth verses, and
+string epithets prettily together, when their prose themes showed the
+barrenness of their minds, and how superficial the cultivation must have
+been, which their understanding had received.
+
+Dr. Johnson, I know, has given a definition of genius, which would
+overturn my reasoning, if I were to admit it.--He imagines, that _a
+strong mind, accidentally led to some particular study_ in which it
+excels, is a genius.--Not to stop to investigate the causes which
+produced this happy _strength_ of mind, experience seems to prove, that
+those minds have appeared most vigorous, that have pursued a study, after
+nature had discovered a bent; for it would be absurd to suppose, that a
+slight impression made on the weak faculties of a boy, is the fiat of
+fate, and not to be effaced by any succeeding impression, or unexpected
+difficulty. Dr. Johnson in fact, appears sometimes to be of the same
+opinion (how consistently I shall not now enquire), especially when he
+observes, "that Thomson looked on nature with the eye which she only
+gives to a poet."
+
+But, though it should be allowed that books may produce some poets, I
+fear they will never be the poets who charm our cares to sleep, or extort
+admiration. They may diffuse taste, and polish the language; but I am
+inclined to conclude that they will seldom rouse the passions, or amend
+the heart.
+
+And, to return to the first subject of discussion, the reason why most
+people are more interested by a scene described by a poet, than by a
+view of nature, probably arises from the want of a lively imagination.
+The poet contracts the prospect, and, selecting the most picturesque part
+in his _camera_, the judgment is directed, and the whole force of the
+languid faculty turned towards the objects which excited the most
+forcible emotions in the poet's heart; the reader consequently feels the
+enlivened description, though he was not able to receive a first
+impression from the operations of his own mind.
+
+Besides, it may be further observed, that gross minds are only to be
+moved by forcible representations. To rouse the thoughtless, objects must
+be presented, calculated to produce tumultuous emotions; the
+unsubstantial, picturesque forms which a contemplative man gazes on, and
+often follows with ardour till he is mocked by a glimpse of unattainable
+excellence, appear to them the light vapours of a dreaming enthusiast,
+who gives up the substance for the shadow. It is not within that they
+seek amusement; their eyes are seldom turned on themselves; consequently
+their emotions, though sometimes fervid, are always transient, and the
+nicer perceptions which distinguish the man of genuine taste, are not
+felt, or make such a slight impression as scarcely to excite any
+pleasurable sensations. Is it surprising then that they are often
+overlooked, even by those who are delighted by the same images
+concentrated by the poet?
+
+But even this numerous class is exceeded, by witlings, who, anxious to
+appear to have wit and taste, do not allow their understandings or
+feelings any liberty; for, instead of cultivating their faculties and
+reflecting on their operations, they are busy collecting prejudices; and
+are predetermined to admire what the suffrage of time announces as
+excellent, not to store up a fund of amusement for themselves, but to
+enable them to talk.
+
+These hints will assist the reader to trace some of the causes why the
+beauties of nature are not forcibly felt, when civilization, or rather
+luxury, has made considerable advances--those calm sensations are not
+sufficiently lively to serve as a relaxation to the voluptuary, or even
+to the moderate pursuer of artificial pleasures. In the present state of
+society, the understanding must bring back the feelings to nature, or the
+sensibility must have such native strength, as rather to be whetted than
+destroyed by the strong exercises of passion.
+
+That the most valuable things are liable to the greatest perversion, is
+however as trite as true:--for the same sensibility, or quickness of
+senses, which makes a man relish the tranquil scenes of nature, when
+sensation, rather than reason, imparts delight, frequently makes a
+libertine of him, by leading him to prefer the sensual tumult of love a
+little refined by sentiment, to the calm pleasures of affectionate
+friendship, in whose sober satisfactions, reason, mixing her
+tranquillizing convictions, whispers, that content, not happiness, is the
+reward of virtue in this world.
+
+
+
+
+HINTS.
+
+[_Chiefly designed to have been incorporated in the Second Part of the_
+Vindication of the Rights of Woman.]
+
+
+HINTS.
+
+
+1.
+
+INDOLENCE is the source of nervous complaints, and a whole host of cares.
+This devil might say that his name was legion.
+
+
+2.
+
+It should be one of the employments of women of fortune, to visit
+hospitals, and superintend the conduct of inferiors.
+
+
+3.
+
+It is generally supposed, that the imagination of women is particularly
+active, and leads them astray. Why then do we seek by education only to
+exercise their imagination and feeling, till the understanding, grown
+rigid by disuse, is unable to exercise itself--and the superfluous
+nourishment the imagination and feeling have received, renders the former
+romantic, and the latter weak?
+
+
+4.
+
+Few men have risen to any great eminence in learning, who have not
+received something like a regular education. Why are women expected to
+surmount difficulties that men are not equal to?
+
+
+5.
+
+Nothing can be more absurd than the ridicule of the critic, that the
+heroine of his mock-tragedy was in love with the very man whom she ought
+least to have loved; he could not have given a better reason. How can
+passion gain strength any other way? In Otaheite, love cannot be known,
+where the obstacles to irritate an indiscriminate appetite, and sublimate
+the simple sensations of desire till they mount to passion, are never
+known. There a man or woman cannot love the very person they ought not to
+have loved--nor does jealousy ever fan the flame.
+
+
+6.
+
+It has frequently been observed, that, when women have an object in view,
+they pursue it with more steadiness than men, particularly love. This is
+not a compliment. Passion pursues with more heat than reason, and with
+most ardour during the absence of reason.
+
+
+7.
+
+Men are more subject to the physical love than women. The confined
+education of women makes them more subject to jealousy.
+
+
+8.
+
+Simplicity seems, in general, the consequence of ignorance, as I have
+observed in the characters of women and sailors--the being confined to
+one track of impressions.
+
+
+9.
+
+I know of no other way of preserving the chastity of mankind, than that
+of rendering women rather objects of love than desire. The difference is
+great. Yet, while women are encouraged to ornament their persons at the
+expence of their minds, while indolence renders them helpless and
+lascivious (for what other name can be given to the common intercourse
+between the sexes?) they will be, generally speaking, only objects of
+desire; and, to such women, men cannot be constant. Men, accustomed only
+to have their senses moved, merely seek for a selfish gratification in
+the society of women, and their sexual instinct, being neither supported
+by the understanding nor the heart, must be excited by variety.
+
+
+10.
+
+We ought to respect old opinions; though prejudices, blindly adopted,
+lead to error, and preclude all exercise of the reason.
+
+The emulation which often makes a boy mischievous, is a generous spur;
+and the old remark, that unlucky, turbulent boys, make the wisest and
+best men, is true, spite of Mr. Knox's arguments. It has been observed,
+that the most adventurous horses, when tamed or domesticated, are the
+most mild and tractable.
+
+
+11.
+
+The children who start up suddenly at twelve or fourteen, and fall into
+decays, in consequence, as it is termed, of outgrowing their strength,
+are in general, I believe, those children, who have been bred up with
+mistaken tenderness, and not allowed to sport and take exercise in the
+open air. This is analogous to plants: for it is found that they run up
+sickly, long stalks, when confined.
+
+
+12.
+
+Children should be taught to feel deference, not to practise submission.
+
+
+13.
+
+It is always a proof of false refinement, when a fastidious taste
+overpowers sympathy.
+
+
+14.
+
+Lust appears to be the most natural companion of wild ambition; and love
+of human praise, of that dominion erected by cunning.
+
+
+15.
+
+"Genius decays as judgment increases." Of course, those who have the
+least genius, have the earliest appearance of wisdom.
+
+
+16.
+
+A knowledge of the fine arts, is seldom subservient to the promotion of
+either religion or virtue. Elegance is often indecency; witness our
+prints.
+
+
+17.
+
+There does not appear to be any evil in the world, but what is necessary.
+The doctrine of rewards and punishments, not considered as a means of
+reformation, appears to me an infamous libel on divine goodness.
+
+
+18.
+
+Whether virtue is founded on reason or revelation, virtue is wisdom, and
+vice is folly. Why are positive punishments?
+
+
+19.
+
+Few can walk alone. The staff of Christianity is the necessary support of
+human weakness. But an acquaintance with the nature of man and virtue,
+with just sentiments on the attributes, would be sufficient, without a
+voice from heaven, to lead some to virtue, but not the mob.
+
+
+20.
+
+I only expect the natural reward of virtue, whatever it may be. I rely
+not on a positive reward.
+
+The justice of God can be vindicated by a belief in a future state--but
+a continuation of being vindicates it as clearly, as the positive system
+of rewards and punishments--by evil educing good for the individual, and
+not for an imaginary whole. The happiness of the whole must arise from
+the happiness of the constituent parts, or this world is not a state of
+trial, but a school.
+
+
+21.
+
+The vices acquired by Augustus to retain his power, must have tainted his
+soul, and prevented that increase of happiness a good man expects in the
+next stage of existence. This was a natural punishment.
+
+
+22.
+
+The lover is ever most deeply enamoured, when it is with he knows not
+what--and the devotion of a mystic has a rude Gothic grandeur in it,
+which the respectful adoration of a philosopher will never reach. I may
+be thought fanciful; but it has continually occurred to me, that, though,
+I allow, reason in this world is the mother of wisdom--yet some flights
+of the imagination seem to reach what wisdom cannot teach--and, while
+they delude us here, afford a glorious hope, if not a foretaste, of what
+we may expect hereafter. He that created us, did not mean to mark us with
+ideal images of grandeur, the _baseless fabric of a vision_--No--that
+perfection we follow with hopeless ardour when the whisperings of reason
+are heard, may be found, when not incompatible with our state, in the
+round of eternity. Perfection indeed must, even then, be a comparative
+idea--but the wisdom, the happiness of a superior state, has been
+supposed to be intuitive, and the happiest effusions of human genius have
+seemed like inspiration--the deductions of reason destroy sublimity.
+
+
+23.
+
+I am more and more convinced, that poetry is the first effervescence of
+the imagination, and the forerunner of civilization.
+
+
+24.
+
+When the Arabs had no trace of literature or science, they composed
+beautiful verses on the subjects of love and war. The flights of the
+imagination, and the laboured deductions of reason, appear almost
+incompatible.
+
+
+25.
+
+Poetry certainly flourishes most in the first rude state of society. The
+passions speak most eloquently, when they are not shackled by reason.
+The sublime expression, which has been so often quoted, [Genesis, ch. 1,
+ver. 3.] is perhaps a barbarous flight; or rather the grand conception of
+an uncultivated mind; for it is contrary to nature and experience, to
+suppose that this account is founded on facts--It is doubtless a sublime
+allegory. But a cultivated mind would not thus have described the
+creation--for, arguing from analogy, it appears that creation must have
+been a comprehensive plan, and that the Supreme Being always uses second
+causes, slowly and silently to fulfil his purpose. This is, in reality, a
+more sublime view of that power which wisdom supports: but it is not the
+sublimity that would strike the impassioned mind, in which the
+imagination took place of intellect. Tell a being, whose affections and
+passions have been more exercised than his reason, that God said, _Let
+there be light! and there was light_; and he would prostrate himself
+before the Being who could thus call things out of nothing, as if they
+were: but a man in whom reason had taken place of passion, would not
+adore, till wisdom was conspicuous as well as power, for his admiration
+must be founded on principle.
+
+
+26.
+
+Individuality is ever conspicuous in those enthusiastic flights of fancy,
+in which reason is left behind, without being lost sight of.
+
+
+27.
+
+The mind has been too often brought to the test of enquiries which only
+reach to matter--put into the crucible, though the magnetic and electric
+fluid escapes from the experimental philosopher.
+
+
+28.
+
+Mr. Kant has observed, that the understanding is sublime, the imagination
+beautiful--yet it is evident, that poets, and men who undoubtedly possess
+the liveliest imagination, are most touched by the sublime, while men who
+have cold, enquiring minds, have not this exquisite feeling in any great
+degree, and indeed seem to lose it as they cultivate their reason.
+
+
+29.
+
+The Grecian buildings are graceful--they fill the mind with all those
+pleasing emotions, which elegance and beauty never fail to excite in a
+cultivated mind--utility and grace strike us in unison--the mind is
+satisfied--things appear just what they ought to be: a calm satisfaction
+is felt, but the imagination has nothing to do--no obscurity darkens the
+gloom--like reasonable content, we can say why we are pleased--and this
+kind of pleasure may be lasting, but it is never great.
+
+
+30.
+
+When we say that a person is an original, it is only to say in other
+words that he thinks. "The less a man has cultivated his rational
+faculties, the more powerful is the principle of imitation, over his
+actions, and his habits of thinking. Most women, of course, are more
+influenced by the behaviour, the fashions, and the opinions of those with
+whom they associate, than men." (Smellie.)
+
+When we read a book which supports our favourite opinions, how eagerly do
+we suck in the doctrines, and suffer our minds placidly to reflect the
+images which illustrate the tenets we have embraced? We indolently or
+quietly acquiesce in the conclusion, and our spirit animates and connects
+the various subjects. But, on the contrary, when we peruse a skilful
+writer, who does not coincide in opinion with us, how is the mind on the
+watch to detect fallacy? And this coolness often prevents our being
+carried away by a stream of eloquence, which the prejudiced mind terms
+declamation--a pomp of words.--We never allow ourselves to be warmed;
+and, after contending with the writer, are more confirmed in our own
+opinion, as much perhaps from a spirit of contradiction as from
+reason.--Such is the strength of man!
+
+
+31.
+
+It is the individual manner of seeing and feeling, pourtrayed by a strong
+imagination in bold images that have struck the senses, which creates
+all the charms of poetry. A great reader is always quoting the
+description of another's emotions; a strong imagination delights to paint
+its own. A writer of genius makes us feel; an inferior author reason.
+
+
+32.
+
+Some principle prior to self-love must have existed: the feeling which
+produced the pleasure, must have existed before the experience.
+
+
+THE END.
+
+
+Transcriber's Notes:
+
+1. Obvious punctuation errors repaired.
+
+2. This text contains blank space and lines of "--" and "*" characters.
+These are replicated from the printed pages, presumably they indicate
+censored text from the original source.
+
+3. The listed errata at the beginning of Volume 1 and Volume 4 have been
+applied to the text.
+
+4. The text as printed used incipits and 'long s' font. The incipits have
+not been replicated in this version, but can be viewed on 'long s' HTML
+version of the text or the page images linked from the HTML versions.
+
+5. Corrections:
+Volume 1, Page 33, "accuteness" changed to "acuteness"
+Volume 1, Page 51, "unfortutunate" changed to "unfortunate"
+Volume 1, Page 57, "resource" changed to "recourse"
+Volume 1, Page 90, "hunted" changed to "shunted"
+Volume 1, Page 103, "carreer" changed to "career"
+Volume 1, Page 161, "plased" changed to "pleased"
+Volume 2, Page 116, "and and" changed to "and"
+Volume 3, Page 35, "a r" changed to "air"
+Volume 3, Page 81, "he he" changed to "he"
+Volume 3, Page 120, "explananations" changed to "explanations"
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Posthumous Works, by Mary Wollstonecraft
+
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