Читать книгу Posthumous Works of the Author of A Vindication of the Rights of Woman - Mary Wollstonecraft - Страница 17

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"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?