And now, in her thirtieth year, Mary Wollstonecraft had concluded her
career as a governess, and was resolved henceforth to devote herself to
literature. Her chances of success were slender indeed, for she had
written nothing to encourage her for such a venture. It was her fortune,
however, to make the acquaintance of Joseph Johnson, the humanitarian
publisher and bookseller of St. Paul's Churchyard, who issued the works of
Priestley, Horne Tooke, Gilbert Wakefield, and other men of advanced
thought, and she met at his table many of the authors for whom he
published, and such eminent men of the day as William Blake, Fuseli, and
Tom Paine. Mr. Johnson, who afterwards proved one of her best friends,
encouraged her in her literary plans. He was the publisher of her
"Thoughts on the Education of Daughters," and had recognised in that
little book so much promise, that when she sought his advice, he at once
offered to assist her with employment.
Mary therefore settled at Michaelmas 1788 in a house in George Street,
Blackfriars. She had brought to London the manuscript of her novel "Mary,"
and she set to work on a book for children entitled "Original Stories from
Real Life." Both of these books appeared before the year was out, the
latter with quaint plates by William Blake. Mary also occupied some of her
time with translations from the French, German, and even Dutch, one of
which was an abridged edition of Saltzmann's "Elements of Morality," for
which Blake also supplied the illustrations. Besides this work, Johnson
engaged Mary as his literary adviser or "reader," and secured her services
in connexion with _The Analytical Review_, a periodical that he had
recently founded.
While she was at George Street she also wrote her "Vindication of the
Rights of Man" in a letter to Edmund Burke. Her chief satisfaction in
keeping up this house was to have a home where her brothers and sisters
could always come when out of employment. She was never weary of assisting
them either with money, or by exerting her influence to find them
situations. One of her first acts when she settled in London was to send
Everina Wollstonecraft to Paris to improve her French accent. Mr. Johnson,
who wrote a short account of Mary's life in London at this time, says she
often spent her afternoons and evenings at his house, and used to seek his
advice, or unburden her troubles to him. Among the many duties she imposed
on herself was the charge of her father's affairs, which must indeed have
been a profitless undertaking.
The most important of Mary Wollstonecraft's labours while she was living
at Blackfriars was the writing of the book that is chiefly associated with
her name, "A Vindication of the Rights of Woman." This volume--now much
better known by its title than its contents--was dedicated to the astute
M. Talleyrand de Périgord, late Bishop of Autun, apparently on account of
his authorship of a pamphlet on National Education. It is unnecessary to
attempt an analysis of this strikingly original but most unequal
book--modern reprints of the work have appeared under the editorship both
of Mrs. Fawcett and Mrs. Pennell. It is sufficient to say that it is
really a plea for a more enlightened system of education, affecting not
only her own sex, but also humanity in its widest sense. Many of her
suggestions have long since been put to practical use, such as that of a
system of free national education, with equal advantages for boys and
girls. The book contains too much theory and is therefore to a great
extent obsolete. Mary Wollstonecraft protests against the custom that
recognises woman as the plaything of man; she pleads rather for a friendly
footing of equality between the sexes, besides claiming a new order of
things for women, in terms which are unusually frank. Such a book could
not fail to create a sensation, and it speedily made her notorious, not
only in this country, but on the Continent, where it was translated into
French. It was of course the outcome of the French Revolution; the whole
work is permeated with the ideas and ideals of that movement, but whereas
the French patriots demanded rights for men, she made the same demands
also for women.
It is evident that the great historical drama then being enacted in France
had made a deep impression on Mary's mind--its influence is stamped on
every page of her book, and it was her desire to visit France with Mr.
Johnson and Fuseli. Her friends were, however, unable to accompany her, so
she went alone in the December of 1792, chiefly with the object of
perfecting her French. Godwin states, though apparently in error, that
Fuseli was the cause of her going to France, the acquaintance with the
painter having grown into something warmer than mere friendship. Fuseli,
however, had a wife and was happily married, so Mary "prudently resolved
to retire into another country, far remote from the object who had
unintentionally excited the tender passion in her breast."
She certainly arrived in Paris at a dramatic moment; she wrote on December
24 to her sister Everina: "The day after to-morrow I expect to see the
King at the bar, and the consequences that will follow I am almost afraid
to anticipate." On the day in question, the 26th, Louis XVI. appeared in
the Hall of the Convention to plead his cause through his advocate,
Desize, and on the same day she wrote that letter to Mr. Johnson which has
so often been quoted: "About nine o'clock this morning," she says, "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 anything 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 had triumphed. My fancy instantly brought Louis
XIV. before me, entering the capital with all his pomp, after one of his
victories so flattering to his pride, only to see the sunshine of
prosperity overshadowed by the sublime gloom of misery...."
Mary first went to stay at the house of Madame Filiettaz, the daughter of
Madame Bregantz, in whose school at Putney both Mrs. Bishop and Everina
Wollstonecraft had been teachers. Mary was now something of a
celebrity--"Authorship," she writes, "is a heavy weight for female
shoulders, especially in the sunshine of prosperity"--and she carried with
her letters of introduction to several influential people in Paris. She
renewed her acquaintance with Tom Paine, became intimate with Helen Maria
Williams (who is said to have once lived with Imlay), and visited, among
others, the house of Mr. Thomas Christie. It was her intention to go to
Switzerland, but there was some trouble about her passport, so she
settled at Neuilly, then a village three miles from Paris. "Her
habitation here," says Godwin, "was a solitary house in the midst of a
garden, with no other habitant than herself and the gardener, an old man
who performed for her many offices of a domestic, and would sometimes
contend for the honour of making her bed. The gardener had a great
veneration for his guest, and would set before her, when alone, some
grapes of a particularly fine sort, which she could not without the
greatest difficulty obtain of him when she had any person with her as a
visitor. Here it was that she conceived, and for the most part executed,
her historical and moral view of the French Revolution, into which she
incorporated most of the observations she had collected for her letters,
and which was written with more sobriety and cheerfulness than the tone in
which they had been commenced. In the evening she was accustomed to
refresh herself by a walk in a neighbouring wood, from which her host in
vain endeavoured to dissuade her, by recounting divers horrible robberies
and murders that had been committed there."
[Illustration: From an engraving by Ridley, dated 1796, after a painting
by John Opie, R.A.