LETTER LXVII

_[Hamburg] September 27 [1795]._

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 temptest-tossed mariner ever more earnestly longed to arrive at

his port.

The Love Letters of Mary Wollstonecraft to Gilbert Imlay · 第 112 / 130 题