Memoirs of the Author of a Vindication of the Rights of Woman
former pursuits. During this residence at Hoxton, the writer of these
memoirs inhabited, as a student, at the dissenting college in that
place. It is perhaps a question of curious speculation to enquire, what
would have been the amount of the difference in the pursuits and
enjoyments of each party, if they had met, and considered each other
with the same distinguishing regard in 1776, as they were afterwards
impressed with in the year 1796. The writer had then completed the
twentieth, and Mary the seventeenth year of her age. Which would have
been predominant; the disadvantages of obscurity, and the pressure of a
family; or the gratifications and improvement that might have flowed
from their intercourse?
One of the acquaintances Mary formed at this time was with a Mr. Clare,
who inhabited the next house to that which was tenanted by her father,
and to whom she was probably in some degree indebted for the early
cultivation of her mind. Mr. Clare was a clergyman, and appears to have
been a humourist of a very singular cast. In his person he was deformed
and delicate; and his figure, I am told, bore a resemblance to that of
the celebrated Pope. He had a fondness for poetry, and was not destitute
of taste. His manners were expressive of a tenderness and benevolence,
the demonstrations of which appeared to have been somewhat too
artificially cultivated. His habits were those of a perfect recluse. He
seldom went out of his drawing-room, and he showed to a friend of Mary a
pair of shoes, which had served him, he said, for fourteen years. Mary
frequently spent days and weeks together, at the house of Mr. Clare.
CHAP. II
1775-1783.
But a connection more memorable originated about this time, between Mary
and a person of her own sex, for whom she contracted a friendship so
fervent, as for years to have constituted the ruling passion of her
mind. The name of this person was Frances Blood; she was two years older
than Mary. Her residence was at that time at Newington Butts, a village
near the southern extremity of the metropolis; and the original
instrument for bringing these two friends acquainted, was Mrs. Clare,
wife of the gentleman already mentioned, who was on a footing of
considerable intimacy with both parties. The acquaintance of Fanny, like
that of Mr. Clare, contributed to ripen the immature talents of Mary.
The situation in which Mary was introduced to her, bore a resemblance to
the first interview of Werter with Charlotte. She was conducted to the
door of a small house, but furnished with peculiar neatness and
propriety. The first object that caught her sight, was a young woman of
a slender and elegant form, and eighteen years of age, busily employed
in feeding and managing some children, born of the same parents, but
considerably inferior to her in age. The impression Mary received from
this spectacle was indelible; and, before the interview was concluded,
she had taken, in her heart, the vows of an eternal friendship.
Fanny was a young woman of extraordinary accomplishments. She sung and
played with taste. She drew with exquisite fidelity and neatness; and,
by the employment of this talent, for some time maintained her father,
mother, and family, but ultimately ruined her health by her
extraordinary exertions. She read and wrote with considerable
application; and the same ideas of minute and delicate propriety
followed her in these, as in her other occupations.
Mary, a wild, but animated and aspiring girl of sixteen, contemplated
Fanny, in the first instance, with sentiments of inferiority and
reverence. Though they were much together, yet, the distance of their
habitation being considerable, they supplied the want of mere frequent
interviews by an assiduous correspondence. Mary found Fanny's letters
better spelt and better indited than her own, and felt herself abashed.
She had hitherto paid but a superficial attention to literature. She had
read, to gratify the ardour of an inextinguishable thirst of knowledge;
but she had not thought of writing as an art. Her ambition to excel was
now awakened, and she applied herself with passion and earnestness.
Fanny undertook to be her instructor; and, so far as related to accuracy
and method, her lessons were given with considerable skill.
It has already been mentioned that, in the spring of the year 1776, Mr.
Wollstonecraft quitted his situation at Hoxton, and returned to his
former agricultural pursuits. The situation upon which he now fixed was
in Wales, a circumstance that was felt as a severe blow to Mary's
darling spirit of friendship. The principal acquaintance of the
Wollstonecrafts in this retirement, was the family of a Mr. Allen, two
of whose daughters are since married to the two elder sons of the
celebrated English potter, Josiah Wedgwood.
Wales however was Mr. Wollstonecraft's residence for little more than a
year. He returned to the neighbourhood of London; and Mary, whose spirit
of independence was unalterable, had influence enough to determine his
choice in favour of the village of Walworth, that she might be near her
chosen friend. It was probably before this, that she has once or twice
started the idea of quitting her parental roof, and providing for
herself. But she was prevailed upon to resign this idea, and conditions
were stipulated with her, relative to her having an apartment in the
house that should be exclusively her own, and her commanding the other
requisites of study. She did not however think herself fairly treated in
these instances, and either the conditions abovementioned, or some
others, were not observed in the sequel, with the fidelity she expected.
In one case, she had procured an eligible situation, and every thing was
settled respecting her removal to it, when the intreaties and tears of
her mother led her to surrender her own inclinations, and abandon the
engagement.
These however were only temporary delays. Her propensities continued the
same, and the motives by which she was instigated were unabated. In the
year 1778, she being nineteen years of age, a proposal was made to her
of living as a companion with a Mrs. Dawson of Bath, a widow lady, with
one son already adult. Upon enquiry she found that Mrs. Dawson was a
woman of great peculiarity of temper, that she had had a variety of
companions in succession, and that no one had found it practicable to
continue with her. Mary was not discouraged by this information, and
accepted the situation, with a resolution that she would effect in this
respect, what none of her predecessors had been able to do. In the
sequel she had reason to consider the account she had received as
sufficiently accurate, but she did not relax in her endeavours. By
method, constancy and firmness, she found the means of making her
situation tolerable; and Mrs. Dawson would occasionally confess, that
Mary was the only person that had lived with her in that situation, in
her treatment of whom she had felt herself under any restraint.
With Mrs. Dawson she continued to reside for two years, and only left
her, summoned by the melancholy circumstance of her mother's rapidly
declining health. True to the calls of humanity, Mary felt in this
intelligence an irresistible motive, and eagerly returned to the
paternal roof, which she had before resolutely quitted. The residence of
her father at this time, was at Enfield near London. He had, I believe,
given up agriculture from the time of his quitting Wales, it appearing
that he now made it less a source of profit than loss, and being thought
advisable that he should rather live upon the interest of his property
already in possession.
The illness of Mrs. Wollstonecraft was lingering, but hopeless. Mary was
assiduous in her attendance upon her mother. At first, every attention
was received with acknowledgments and gratitude; but, as the attentions
grew habitual, and the health of the mother more and more wretched, they
were rather exacted, than received. Nothing would be taken by the
unfortunate patient, but from the hands of Mary; rest was denied night
or day, and by the time nature was exhausted in the parent, the
daughter was qualified to assume her place, and become in turn herself a
patient. The last words her mother ever uttered were, "A little
patience, and all will be over!" and these words are repeatedly referred
to by Mary in the course of her writings.
Upon the death of Mrs. Wollstonecraft, Mary bid a final adieu to the
roof of her father. According to my memorandums, I find her next the
inmate of Fanny at Walham Green, near the village of Fulham. Upon what
plan they now lived together I am unable to ascertain; certainly not
that of Mary's becoming in any degree an additional burthen upon the
industry of her friend. Thus situated, their intimacy ripened; they
approached more nearly to a footing of equality; and their attachment
became more rooted and active.
Mary was ever ready at the call of distress, and, in particular, during
her whole life was eager and active to promote the welfare of every
member of her family. In 1780 she attended the death-bed of her mother;
in 1782 she was summoned by a not less melancholy occasion, to attend
her sister Eliza, married to a Mr. Bishop, who, subsequently to a
dangerous lying-in, remained for some months in a very afflicting
situation. Mary continued with her sister without intermission, to her
perfect recovery.
CHAP. III.
1783-1785.
Mary was now arrived at the twenty-fourth year of her age. Her project,
five years before, had been personal independence; it was now
usefulness. In the solitude of attendance on her sister's illness, and
during the subsequent convalescence, she had had leisure to ruminate
upon purposes of this sort. Her expanded mind led her to seek something
more arduous than the mere removal of personal vexations; and the
sensibility of her heart would not suffer her to rest in solitary
gratifications. The derangement of her father's affairs daily became
more and more glaring; and a small independent provision made for
herself and her sisters, appears to have been sacrificed in the wreck.
For ten years, from 1782 to 1792, she may be said to have been, in a
great degree, the victim of a desire to promote the benefit of others.
She did not foresee the severe disappointment with which an exclusive
purpose of this sort is pregnant; she was inexperienced enough to lay a
stress upon the consequent gratitude of those she benefited; and she did
not sufficiently consider that, in proportion as we involve ourselves in
the interests and society of others, we acquire a more exquisite sense
of their defects, and are tormented with their untractableness and
folly.
The project upon which she now determined, was no other than that of a
day-school, to be superintended by Fanny Blood, herself, and her two
sisters.
They accordingly opened one in the year 1783, at the village of
Islington; but in the course of a few months removed it to Newington
Green. Here Mary formed some acquaintances who influenced the future
events of her life. The first of these in her own estimation, was Dr.
Richard Price, well known for his political and mathematical
calculations, and universally esteemed by those who knew him, for the
simplicity of his manners, and the ardour of his benevolence. The regard
conceived by these two persons for each other, was mutual, and partook
of a spirit of the purest attachment. Mary had been bred in the
principles of the church of England, but her esteem for this venerable
preacher led her occasionally to attend upon his public instructions.
Her religion was, in reality, little allied to any system of forms; and,
as she has often told me, was founded rather in taste, than in the