“My father’s situation was now so distressing, that I prevailed on my
uncle to accompany me to visit him; and to lend me his assistance, to
prevent the whole property of the family from becoming the prey of my
brother’s rapacity; for, to extricate himself out of present
difficulties, my father was totally regardless of futurity. I took down
with me some presents for my step-mother; it did not require an effort
for me to treat her with civility, or to forget the past.
“This was the first time I had visited my native village, since my
marriage. But with what different emotions did I return from the busy
world, with a heavy weight of experience benumbing my imagination, to
scenes, that whispered recollections of joy and hope most eloquently to
my heart! The first scent of the wild flowers from the heath, thrilled
through my veins, awakening every sense to pleasure. The icy hand of
despair seemed to be removed from my bosom; and—forgetting my
husband—the nurtured visions of a romantic mind, bursting on me with
all their original wildness and gay exuberance, were again hailed as
sweet realities. I forgot, with equal facility, that I ever felt
sorrow, or knew care in the country; while a transient rainbow stole
athwart the cloudy sky of despondency. The picturesque form of several
favourite trees, and the porches of rude cottages, with their smiling
hedges, were recognized with the gladsome playfulness of childish
vivacity. I could have kissed the chickens that pecked on the common;
and longed to pat the cows, and frolic with the dogs that sported on
it. I gazed with delight on the windmill, and thought it lucky that it
should be in motion, at the moment I passed by; and entering the dear
green lane, which led directly to the village, the sound of the
well-known rookery gave that sentimental tinge to the varying
sensations of my active soul, which only served to heighten the lustre
of the luxuriant scenery. But, spying, as I advanced, the spire,
peeping over the withered tops of the aged elms that composed the
rookery, my thoughts flew immediately to the churchyard, and tears of
affection, such was the effect of my imagination, bedewed my mother’s
grave! Sorrow gave place to devotional feelings. I wandered through the
church in fancy, as I used sometimes to do on a Saturday evening. I
recollected with what fervour I addressed the God of my youth: and once
more with rapturous love looked above my sorrows to the Father of
nature. I pause—feeling forcibly all the emotions I am describing; and
(reminded, as I register my sorrows, of the sublime calm I have felt,
when in some tremendous solitude, my soul rested on itself, and seemed
to fill the universe) I insensibly breathe soft, hushing every wayward
emotion, as if fearing to sully with a sigh, a contentment so extatic.
“Having settled my father’s affairs, and, by my exertions in his
favour, made my brother my sworn foe, I returned to London. My
husband’s conduct was now changed; I had during my absence, received
several affectionate, penitential letters from him; and he seemed on my
arrival, to wish by his behaviour to prove his sincerity. I could not
then conceive why he acted thus; and, when the suspicion darted into my
head, that it might arise from observing my increasing influence with
my uncle, I almost despised myself for imagining that such a degree of
debasing selfishness could exist.
“He became, unaccountable as was the change, tender and attentive; and,
attacking my weak side, made a confession of his follies, and lamented
the embarrassments in which I, who merited a far different fate, might
be involved. He besought me to aid him with my counsel, praised my
understanding, and appealed to the tenderness of my heart.
“This conduct only inspired me with compassion. I wished to be his
friend; but love had spread his rosy pinions and fled far, far away;
and had not (like some exquisite perfumes, the fine spirit of which is
continually mingling with the air) left a fragrance behind, to mark
where he had shook his wings. My husband’s renewed caresses then became
hateful to me; his brutality was tolerable, compared to his distasteful
fondness. Still, compassion, and the fear of insulting his supposed
feelings, by a want of sympathy, made me dissemble, and do violence to
my delicacy. What a task!
“Those who support a system of what I term false refinement, and will
not allow great part of love in the female, as well as male breast, to
spring in some respects involuntarily, may not admit that charms are as
necessary to feed the passion, as virtues to convert the mellowing
spirit into friendship. To such observers I have nothing to say, any
more than to the moralists, who insist that women ought to, and can
love their husbands, because it is their duty. To you, my child, I may
add, with a heart tremblingly alive to your future conduct, some
observations, dictated by my present feelings, on calmly reviewing this
period of my life. When novelists or moralists praise as a virtue, a
woman’s coldness of constitution, and want of passion; and make her
yield to the ardour of her lover out of sheer compassion, or to promote
a frigid plan of future comfort, I am disgusted. They may be good
women, in the ordinary acceptation of the phrase, and do no harm; but
they appear to me not to have those ‘finely fashioned nerves,’ which
render the senses exquisite. They may possess tenderness; but they want
that fire of the imagination, which produces _active_ sensibility, and
_positive virtue_. How does the woman deserve to be characterized, who
marries one man, with a heart and imagination devoted to another? Is
she not an object of pity or contempt, when thus sacrilegiously
violating the purity of her own feelings? Nay, it is as indelicate,
when she is indifferent, unless she be constitutionally insensible;
then indeed it is a mere affair of barter; and I have nothing to do
with the secrets of trade. Yes; eagerly as I wish you to possess true
rectitude of mind, and purity of affection, I must insist that a
heartless conduct is the contrary of virtuous. Truth is the only basis
of virtue; and we cannot, without depraving our minds, endeavour to
please a lover or husband, but in proportion as he pleases us. Men,
more effectually to enslave us, may inculcate this partial morality,
and lose sight of virtue in subdividing it into the duties of
particular stations; but let us not blush for nature without a cause!
“After these remarks, I am ashamed to own, that I was pregnant. The
greatest sacrifice of my principles in my whole life, was the allowing
my husband again to be familiar with my person, though to this cruel
act of self-denial, when I wished the earth to open and swallow me, you
owe your birth; and I the unutterable pleasure of being a mother. There
was something of delicacy in my husband’s bridal attentions; but now
his tainted breath, pimpled face, and blood-shot eyes, were not more
repugnant to my senses, than his gross manners, and loveless
familiarity to my taste.
“A man would only be expected to maintain; yes, barely grant a
subsistence, to a woman rendered odious by habitual intoxication; but
who would expect him, or think it possible to love her? And unless
‘youth, and genial years were flown,’ it would be thought equally
unreasonable to insist, [under penalty of] forfeiting almost every
thing reckoned valuable in life, that he should not love another:
whilst woman, weak in reason, impotent in will, is required to
moralize, sentimentalize herself to stone, and pine her life away,
labouring to reform her embruted mate. He may even spend in
dissipation, and intemperance, the very intemperance which renders him
so hateful, her property, and by stinting her expences, not permit her
to beguile in society, a wearisome, joyless life; for over their mutual
fortune she has no power, it must all pass through his hand. And if she
be a mother, and in the present state of women, it is a great
misfortune to be prevented from discharging the duties, and cultivating
the affections of one, what has she not to endure?—But I have suffered
the tenderness of one to lead me into reflections that I did not think
of making, to interrupt my narrative—yet the full heart will overflow.
“Mr. Venables’ embarrassments did not now endear him to me; still,
anxious to befriend him, I endeavoured to prevail on him to retrench
his expences; but he had always some plausible excuse to give, to
justify his not following my advice. Humanity, compassion, and the
interest produced by a habit of living together, made me try to
relieve, and sympathize with him; but, when I recollected that I was
bound to live with such a being for ever—my heart died within me; my
desire of improvement became languid, and baleful, corroding melancholy
took possession of my soul. Marriage had bastilled me for life. I
discovered in myself a capacity for the enjoyment of the various
pleasures existence affords; yet, fettered by the partial laws of
society, this fair globe was to me an universal blank.
“When I exhorted my husband to economy, I referred to himself. I was
obliged to practise the most rigid, or contract debts, which I had too
much reason to fear would never be paid. I despised this paltry
privilege of a wife, which can only be of use to the vicious or
inconsiderate, and determined not to increase the torrent that was
bearing him down. I was then ignorant of the extent of his fraudulent
speculations, whom I was bound to honour and obey.
“A woman neglected by her husband, or whose manners form a striking
contrast with his, will always have men on the watch to soothe and
flatter her. Besides, the forlorn state of a neglected woman, not
destitute of personal charms, is particularly interesting, and rouses
that species of pity, which is so near akin, it easily slides into
love. A man of feeling thinks not of seducing, he is himself seduced by
all the noblest emotions of his soul. He figures to himself all the
sacrifices a woman of sensibility must make, and every situation in
which his imagination places her, touches his heart, and fires his
passions. Longing to take to his bosom the shorn lamb, and bid the
drooping buds of hope revive, benevolence changes into passion: and
should he then discover that he is beloved, honour binds him fast,
though foreseeing that he may afterwards be obliged to pay severe
damages to the man, who never appeared to value his wife’s society,
till he found that there was a chance of his being indemnified for the
loss of it.
“Such are the partial laws enacted by men; for, only to lay a stress on
the dependent state of a woman in the grand question of the comforts
arising from the possession of property, she is [even in this article]
much more injured by the loss of the husband’s affection, than he by
that of his wife; yet where is she, condemned to the solitude of a
deserted home, to look for a compensation from the woman, who seduces
him from her? She cannot drive an unfaithful husband from his house,
nor separate, or tear, his children from him, however culpable he may
be; and he, still the master of his own fate, enjoys the smiles of a
world, that would brand her with infamy, did she, seeking consolation,
venture to retaliate.
“These remarks are not dictated by experience; but merely by the
compassion I feel for many amiable women, the _outlaws_ of the world.
For myself, never encouraging any of the advances that were made to me,
my lovers dropped off like the untimely shoots of spring. I did not
even coquet with them; because I found, on examining myself, I could
not coquet with a man without loving him a little; and I perceived that
I should not be able to stop at the line of what are termed _innocent
freedoms_, did I suffer any. My reserve was then the consequence of
delicacy. Freedom of conduct has emancipated many women’s minds; but my
conduct has most rigidly been governed by my principles, till the
improvement of my understanding has enabled me to discern the fallacy
of prejudices at war with nature and reason.
“Shortly after the change I have mentioned in my husband’s conduct, my
uncle was compelled by his declining health, to seek the succour of a
milder climate, and embark for Lisbon. He left his will in the hands of
a friend, an eminent solicitor; he had previously questioned me
relative to my situation and state of mind, and declared very freely,
that he could place no reliance on the stability of my husband’s
professions. He had been deceived in the unfolding of his character; he
now thought it fixed in a train of actions that would inevitably lead
to ruin and disgrace.
“The evening before his departure, which we spent alone together, he
folded me to his heart, uttering the endearing appellation of
‘child.’—My more than father! why was I not permitted to perform the
last duties of one, and smooth the pillow of death? He seemed by his
manner to be convinced that he should never see me more; yet requested
me, most earnestly, to come to him, should I be obliged to leave my
husband. He had before expressed his sorrow at hearing of my pregnancy,
having determined to prevail on me to accompany him, till I informed
him of that circumstance. He expressed himself unfeignedly sorry that
any new tie should bind me to a man whom he thought so incapable of
estimating my value; such was the kind language of affection.
“I must repeat his own words; they made an indelible impression on my
mind:
“‘The marriage state is certainly that in which women, generally
speaking, can be most useful; but I am far from thinking that a woman,
once married, ought to consider the engagement as indissoluble
(especially if there be no children to reward her for sacrificing her
feelings) in case her husband merits neither her love, nor esteem.
Esteem will often supply the place of love; and prevent a woman from
being wretched, though it may not make her happy. The magnitude of a
sacrifice ought always to bear some proportion to the utility in view;
and for a woman to live with a man, for whom she can cherish neither
affection nor esteem, or even be of any use to him, excepting in the
light of a house-keeper, is an abjectness of condition, the enduring of
which no concurrence of circumstances can ever make a duty in the sight
of God or just men. If indeed she submits to it merely to be maintained
in idleness, she has no right to complain bitterly of her fate; or to
act, as a person of independent character might, as if she had a title
to disregard general rules.
“But the misfortune is, that many women only submit in appearance, and
forfeit their own respect to secure their reputation in the world. The
situation of a woman separated from her husband, is undoubtedly very
different from that of a man who has left his wife. He, with lordly
dignity, has shaken of a clog; and the allowing her food and raiment,
is thought sufficient to secure his reputation from taint. And, should
she have been inconsiderate, he will be celebrated for his generosity
and forbearance. Such is the respect paid to the master-key of
property! A woman, on the contrary, resigning what is termed her
natural protector (though he never was so, but in name) is despised and
shunned, for asserting the independence of mind distinctive of a
rational being, and spurning at slavery.’
“During the remainder of the evening, my uncle’s tenderness led him
frequently to revert to the subject, and utter, with increasing warmth,
sentiments to the same purport. At length it was necessary to say
‘Farewell!’—and we parted—gracious God! to meet no more.”