Memoirs of the Author of a Vindication of the Rights of Woman
of the Rights of Woman. Such were her principal literary occupations,
from the autumn of 1787, to the autumn of 1790.
It perhaps deserves to be remarked that this sort of miscellaneous
literary employment, seems, for the time at least, rather to damp and
contract, than to enlarge and invigorate, the genius. The writer is
accustomed to see his performances answer the mere mercantile purpose of
the day, and confounded with those of persons to whom he is secretly
conscious of a superiority. No neighbour mind serves as a mirror to
reflect the generous confidence he felt within himself; and perhaps the
man never yet existed, who could maintain his enthusiasm to its full
vigour, in the midst of this kind of solitariness. He is touched with
the torpedo of mediocrity. I believe that nothing which Mary produced
during this period, is marked with those daring flights, which exhibit
themselves in the little fiction she composed just before its
commencement. Among effusions of a nobler cast, I find occasionally
interspersed some of that homily-language, which, to speak from my own
feelings, is calculated to damp the moral courage, it was intended to
awaken. This is probably to be assigned to the causes above described.
I have already said that one of the purposes which Mary had conceived, a
few years before, as necessary to give a relish to the otherwise
insipid, or embittered, draught of human life, was usefulness. On this
side, the period of her existence of which I am now treating, is more
brilliant, than in a literary view. She determined to apply as great a
part as possible of the produce of her present employments, to the
assistance of her friends and of the distressed; and, for this purpose,
laid down to herself rules of the most rigid economy. She began with
endeavouring to promote the interest of her sisters. She conceived that
there was no situation in which she could place them, at once so
respectable and agreeable, as that of governess in private families.
She determined therefore in the first place, to endeavour to qualify
them for such an undertaking. Her younger sister she sent to Paris,
where she remained near two years. The elder she placed in a school near
London, first as a parlour-boarder, and afterwards as a teacher. Her
brother James, who had already been at sea, she first took into her
house, and next sent to Woolwich for instruction, to qualify him for a
respectable situation in the royal navy, where he was shortly after made
a lieutenant. Charles, who was her favourite brother, had been articled
to the eldest, an attorney in the Minories; but, not being satisfied
with his situation, she removed him; and in some time after, having
first placed him with a farmer for instruction, she fitted him out for
America, where his speculations, founded upon the basis she had
provided, are said to have been extremely prosperous. The reason so much
of this parental sort of care fell upon her, was, that her father had by
this time considerably embarrassed his circumstances. His affairs having
grown too complex for himself to disentangle, he had intrusted them to
the management of a near relation; but Mary, not being satisfied with
the conduct of the business, took them into her own hands. The exertions
she made, and the struggle into which she entered however, in this
instance, were ultimately fruitless. To the day of her death her father
was almost wholly supported by funds which she supplied to him. In
addition to her exertions for her own family, she took a young girl of
about seven years of age under her protection and care, the niece of
Mrs. John Hunter, and of the present Mrs. Skeys, for whose mother, then
lately dead, she had entertained a sincere friendship.
The period, from the end of the year 1787 to the end of the year 1790,
though consumed in labours of little eclat, served still further to
establish her in a friendly connection from which she derived many
pleasures. Mr. Johnson, the bookseller, contracted a great personal
regard for her, which resembled in many respects that of a parent. As
she frequented his house, she of course became acquainted with his
guests. Among these may be mentioned as persons possessing her esteem,
Mr. Bonnycastle, the mathematician, the late Mr. George Anderson,
accountant to the board of control, Dr. George Fordyce, and Mr. Fuseli,
the celebrated painter. Between both of the two latter and herself,
there existed sentiments of genuine affection and friendship.
CHAP. VI.
1790-1792.
Hitherto the literary carreer of Mary, had for the most part, been
silent; and had been productive of income to herself, without apparently
leading to the wreath of fame. From this time she was destined to
attract the notice of the public, and perhaps no female writer ever
obtained so great a degree of celebrity throughout Europe.
It cannot be doubted that, while, for three years of literary
employment, she "held the noiseless tenor of her way," her mind was
insensibly advancing towards a vigorous maturity. The uninterrupted
habit of composition gave a freedom and firmness to the expression of
her sentiments. The society she frequented, nourished her understanding,
and enlarged her mind. The French revolution, while it gave a
fundamental shock to the human intellect through every region of the
globe, did not fail to produce a conspicuous effect in the progress of
Mary's reflections. The prejudices of her early years suffered a
vehement concussion. Her respect for establishments was undermined. At
this period occurred a misunderstanding upon public grounds, with one of
her early friends, whose attachment to musty creeds and exploded
absurdities, had been increased, by the operation of those very
circumstances, by which her mind had been rapidly advanced in the race
of independence.
The event, immediately introductory to the rank which from this time she
held in the lids of literature, was the publication of Burke's
Reflections on the Revolution in France. This book, after having been
long promised to the world, finally made its appearance on the first of
November 1790; and Mary, full of sentiments of liberty, and impressed
with a warm interest in the struggle that was now going on, seized her
pen in the first burst of indignation, an emotion of which she was
strongly susceptible. She was in the habit of composing with rapidity,
and her answer, which was the first of the numerous ones that appeared,
obtained extraordinary notice. Marked as it is with the vehemence and
impetuousness of its eloquence, it is certainly chargeable with a too
contemptuous and intemperate treatment of the great man against whom its
attack is directed. But this circumstance was not injurious to the
success of the publication. Burke had been warmly loved by the most
liberal and enlightened friends of freedom, and they were proportionably
inflamed and disgusted by the fury of his assault, upon what they deemed
to be its sacred cause.
Short as was the time in which Mary composed her Answer to Burke's
Reflections, there was one anecdote she told me concerning it, which
seems worth recording in this place. It was sent to the press, as is
the general practice when the early publication of a piece is deemed a
matter of importance, before the composition was finished. When Mary had
arrived at about the middle of her work, she was seized with a temporary
fit of torpor and indolence, and began to repent of her undertaking. In
this state of mind, she called, one evening, as she was in the practice
of doing, upon her publisher, for the purpose of relieving herself by an
hour or two's conversation. Here, the habitual ingenuousness of her
nature, led her to describe what had just past in her thoughts. Mr.
Johnson immediately, in a kind and friendly way, intreated her not to
put any constraint upon her inclination, and to give herself no
uneasiness about the sheets already printed, which he would cheerfully
throw aside, if it would contribute to her happiness. Mary had wanted
stimulus. She had not expected to be encouraged, in what she well knew
to be an unreasonable access of idleness. Her friend's so readily
falling in with her ill-humour, and seeming to expect that she would lay
aside her undertaking, piqued her pride. She immediately went home; and
proceeded to the end of her work, with no other interruptions but what
were absolutely indispensible.
It is probable that the applause which attended her Answer to Burke,
elevated the tone of her mind. She had always felt much confidence in
her own powers; but it cannot be doubted, that the actual perception of
a similar feeling respecting us in a multitude of others, must increase
the confidence, and stimulate the adventure of any human being. Mary
accordingly proceeded, in a short time after, to the composition of her
most celebrated production, the Vindication of the Rights of Woman.
Never did any author enter into a cause, with a more ardent desire to be
found, not a flourishing and empty declaimer, but an effectual champion.
She considered herself as standing forth in defence of one half of the
human species, labouring under a yoke which, through all the records of
time, had degraded them from the station of rational beings, and almost
sunk them to the level of the brutes. She saw indeed, that they were
often attempted to be held in silken fetters, and bribed into the love
of slavery; but the disguise and the treachery served only the more
fully to confirm her opposition. She regarded her sex, in the language
of Calista, as
"In every state of life the slaves of men:"
the rich as alternately under the despotism of a father, a brother, and
a husband; and the middling and the poorer classes shut out from the
acquisition of bread with independence, when they are not shut out from
the very means of an industrious subsistence. Such were the views she
entertained of the subject; and such the feelings with which she warmed
her mind.
The work is certainly a very bold and original production. The strength
and firmness with which the author repels the opinions of Rousseau, Dr.
Gregory, and Dr. James Fordyce, respecting the condition of women,
cannot but make a strong impression upon every ingenuous reader. The
public at large formed very different opinions respecting the character
of the performance. Many of the sentiments are undoubtedly of a rather
masculine description. The spirited and decisive way in which the author
explodes the system of gallantry, and the species of homage with which
the sex is usually treated, shocked the majority. Novelty produced a
sentiment in their mind, which they mistook for a sense of injustice.
The pretty, soft creatures that are so often to be found in the female
sex, and that class of men who believe they could not exist without such
pretty, soft creatures to resort to, were in arms against the author of
so heretical and blasphemous a doctrine. There are also, it must be
confessed, occasional passages of a stern and rugged feature,
incompatible with the true stamina of the writer's character. But, if
they did not belong to her fixed and permanent character, they belonged
to her character _pro tempore_; and what she thought, she scorned to
qualify.
Yet, along with this rigid, and somewhat amazonian temper, which
characterised some parts of the book, it is impossible not to remark a
luxuriance of imagination, and a trembling delicacy of sentiment, which
would have done honour to a poet, bursting with all the visions of an
Armida and a Dido.
The contradiction, to the public apprehension, was equally great, as to
the person of the author, as it was when they considered the temper of
the book. In the champion of her sex, who was described as endeavouring