“A gentleman of large fortune and of polished manners, had lately
visited very frequently at our house, and treated me, if possible, with
more respect than Mr. Venables paid him; my pregnancy was not yet
visible, his society was a great relief to me, as I had for some time
past, to avoid expence, confined myself very much at home. I ever
disdained unnecessary, perhaps even prudent concealments; and my
husband, with great ease, discovered the amount of my uncle’s parting
present. A copy of a writ was the stale pretext to extort it from me;
and I had soon reason to believe that it was fabricated for the
purpose. I acknowledge my folly in thus suffering myself to be
continually imposed on. I had adhered to my resolution not to apply to
my uncle, on the part of my husband, any more; yet, when I had received
a sum sufficient to supply my own wants, and to enable me to pursue a
plan I had in view, to settle my younger brother in a respectable
employment, I allowed myself to be duped by Mr. Venables’ shallow
pretences, and hypocritical professions.
“Thus did he pillage me and my family, thus frustrate all my plans of
usefulness. Yet this was the man I was bound to respect and esteem: as
if respect and esteem depended on an arbitrary will of our own! But a
wife being as much a man’s property as his horse, or his ass, she has
nothing she can call her own. He may use any means to get at what the
law considers as his, the moment his wife is in possession of it, even
to the forcing of a lock, as Mr. Venables did, to search for notes in
my writing-desk—and all this is done with a show of equity, because,
forsooth, he is responsible for her maintenance.
“The tender mother cannot _lawfully_ snatch from the gripe of the
gambling spendthrift, or beastly drunkard, unmindful of his offspring,
the fortune which falls to her by chance; or (so flagrant is the
injustice) what she earns by her own exertions. No; he can rob her with
impunity, even to waste publicly on a courtezan; and the laws of her
country—if women have a country—afford her no protection or redress
from the oppressor, unless she have the plea of bodily fear; yet how
many ways are there of goading the soul almost to madness, equally
unmanly, though not so mean? When such laws were framed, should not
impartial lawgivers have first decreed, in the style of a great
assembly, who recognized the existence of an _être suprême_, to fix the
national belief, that the husband should always be wiser and more
virtuous than his wife, in order to entitle him, with a show of
justice, to keep this idiot, or perpetual minor, for ever in bondage.
But I must have done—on this subject, my indignation continually runs
away with me.
“The company of the gentleman I have already mentioned, who had a
general acquaintance with literature and subjects of taste, was
grateful to me; my countenance brightened up as he approached, and I
unaffectedly expressed the pleasure I felt. The amusement his
conversation afforded me, made it easy to comply with my husband’s
request, to endeavour to render our house agreeable to him.
“His attentions became more pointed; but, as I was not of the number of
women, whose virtue, as it is termed, immediately takes alarm, I
endeavoured, rather by raillery than serious expostulation, to give a
different turn to his conversation. He assumed a new mode of attack,
and I was, for a while, the dupe of his pretended friendship.
“I had, merely in the style of _badinage_, boasted of my conquest, and
repeated his lover-like compliments to my husband. But he begged me,
for God’s sake, not to affront his friend, or I should destroy all his
projects, and be his ruin. Had I had more affection for my husband, I
should have expressed my contempt of this time-serving politeness: now
I imagined that I only felt pity; yet it would have puzzled a casuist
to point out in what the exact difference consisted.
“This friend began now, in confidence, to discover to me the real state
of my husband’s affairs. ‘Necessity,’ said Mr. S——; why should I reveal
his name? for he affected to palliate the conduct he could not excuse,
‘had led him to take such steps, by accommodation bills, buying goods
on credit, to sell them for ready money, and similar transactions, that
his character in the commercial world was gone. He was considered,’ he
added, lowering his voice, ‘on ‘Change as a swindler.’
“I felt at that moment the first maternal pang. Aware of the evils my
sex have to struggle with, I still wished, for my own consolation, to
be the mother of a daughter; and I could not bear to think, that the
_sins_ of her father’s entailed disgrace, should be added to the ills
to which woman is heir.
“So completely was I deceived by these shows of friendship (nay, I
believe, according to his interpretation, Mr. S—— really was my friend)
that I began to consult him respecting the best mode of retrieving my
husband’s character: it is the good name of a woman only that sets to
rise no more. I knew not that he had been drawn into a whirlpool, out
of which he had not the energy to attempt to escape. He seemed indeed
destitute of the power of employing his faculties in any regular
pursuit. His principles of action were so loose, and his mind so
uncultivated, that every thing like order appeared to him in the shape
of restraint; and, like men in the savage state, he required the strong
stimulus of hope or fear, produced by wild speculations, in which the
interests of others went for nothing, to keep his spirits awake. He one
time professed patriotism, but he knew not what it was to feel honest
indignation; and pretended to be an advocate for liberty, when, with as
little affection for the human race as for individuals, he thought of
nothing but his own gratification. He was just such a citizen, as a
father. The sums he adroitly obtained by a violation of the laws of his
country, as well as those of humanity, he would allow a mistress to
squander; though she was, with the same _sang froid_, consigned, as
were his children, to poverty, when another proved more attractive.
“On various pretences, his friend continued to visit me; and, observing
my want of money, he tried to induce me to accept of pecuniary aid; but
this offer I absolutely rejected, though it was made with such
delicacy, I could not be displeased.
“One day he came, as I thought accidentally, to dinner. My husband was
very much engaged in business, and quitted the room soon after the
cloth was removed. We conversed as usual, till confidential advice led
again to love. I was extremely mortified. I had a sincere regard for
him, and hoped that he had an equal friendship for me. I therefore
began mildly to expostulate with him. This gentleness he mistook for
coy encouragement; and he would not be diverted from the subject.
Perceiving his mistake, I seriously asked him how, using such language
to me, he could profess to be my husband’s friend? A significant sneer
excited my curiosity, and he, supposing this to be my only scruple,
took a letter deliberately out of his pocket, saying, ‘Your husband’s
honour is not inflexible. How could you, with your discernment, think
it so? Why, he left the room this very day on purpose to give me an
opportunity to explain myself; _he_ thought me too timid—too tardy.
“I snatched the letter with indescribable emotion. The purport of it
was to invite him to dinner, and to ridicule his chivalrous respect for
me. He assured him, ‘that every woman had her price, and, with gross
indecency, hinted, that he should be glad to have the duty of a husband
taken off his hands. These he termed _liberal sentiments_. He advised
him not to shock my romantic notions, but to attack my credulous
generosity, and weak pity; and concluded with requesting him to lend
him five hundred pounds for a month or six weeks.’ I read this letter
twice over; and the firm purpose it inspired, calmed the rising tumult
of my soul. I rose deliberately, requested Mr. S—— to wait a moment,
and instantly going into the counting-house, desired Mr. Venables to
return with me to the dining-parlour.
“He laid down his pen, and entered with me, without observing any
change in my countenance. I shut the door, and, giving him the letter,
simply asked, ‘whether he wrote it, or was it a forgery?’
“Nothing could equal his confusion. His friend’s eye met his, and he
muttered something about a joke—But I interrupted him—‘It is
sufficient—We part for ever.’
“I continued, with solemnity, ‘I have borne with your tyranny and
infidelities. I disdain to utter what I have borne with. I thought you
unprincipled, but not so decidedly vicious. I formed a tie, in the
sight of heaven—I have held it sacred; even when men, more conformable
to my taste, have made me feel—I despise all subterfuge!—that I was not
dead to love. Neglected by you, I have resolutely stifled the enticing
emotions, and respected the plighted faith you outraged. And you dare
now to insult me, by selling me to prostitution!—Yes—equally lost to
delicacy and principle—you dared sacrilegiously to barter the honour of
the mother of your child.’
“Then, turning to Mr. S——, I added, ‘I call on you, Sir, to witness,’
and I lifted my hands and eyes to heaven, ‘that, as solemnly as I took
his name, I now abjure it,’ I pulled off my ring, and put it on the
table; ‘and that I mean immediately to quit his house, never to enter
it more. I will provide for myself and child. I leave him as free as I
am determined to be myself—he shall be answerable for no debts of
mine.’
“Astonishment closed their lips, till Mr. Venables, gently pushing his
friend, with a forced smile, out of the room, nature for a moment
prevailed, and, appearing like himself, he turned round, burning with
rage, to me: but there was no terror in the frown, excepting when
contrasted with the malignant smile which preceded it. He bade me
‘leave the house at my peril; told me he despised my threats; I had no
resource; I could not swear the peace against him!—I was not afraid of
my life!—he had never struck me!’
“He threw the letter in the fire, which I had incautiously left in his
hands; and, quitting the room, locked the door on me.
“When left alone, I was a moment or two before I could recollect
myself—One scene had succeeded another with such rapidity, I almost
doubted whether I was reflecting on a real event. ‘Was it possible? Was
I, indeed, free?’—Yes; free I termed myself, when I decidedly perceived
the conduct I ought to adopt. How had I panted for liberty—liberty,
that I would have purchased at any price, but that of my own esteem! I
rose, and shook myself; opened the window, and methought the air never
smelled so sweet. The face of heaven grew fairer as I viewed it, and
the clouds seemed to flit away obedient to my wishes, to give my soul
room to expand. I was all soul, and (wild as it may appear) felt as if
I could have dissolved in the soft balmy gale that kissed my cheek, or
have glided below the horizon on the glowing, descending beams. A
seraphic satisfaction animated, without agitating my spirits; and my
imagination collected, in visions sublimely terrible, or soothingly
beautiful, an immense variety of the endless images, which nature
affords, and fancy combines, of the grand and fair. The lustre of these
bright picturesque sketches faded with the setting sun; but I was still
alive to the calm delight they had diffused through my heart.
“There may be advocates for matrimonial obedience, who, making a
distinction between the duty of a wife and of a human being, may blame
my conduct.—To them I write not—my feelings are not for them to
analyze; and may you, my child, never be able to ascertain, by
heart-rending experience, what your mother felt before the present
emancipation of her mind!
“I began to write a letter to my father, after closing one to my uncle;
not to ask advice, but to signify my determination; when I was
interrupted by the entrance of Mr. Venables. His manner was changed.
His views on my uncle’s fortune made him averse to my quitting his
house, or he would, I am convinced, have been glad to have shaken off
even the slight restraint my presence imposed on him; the restraint of
showing me some respect. So far from having an affection for me, he
really hated me, because he was convinced that I must despise him.
“He told me, that ‘As I now had had time to cool and reflect, he did
not doubt but that my prudence, and nice sense of propriety, would lead
me to overlook what was passed.’
“‘Reflection,’ I replied, ‘had only confirmed my purpose, and no power
on earth could divert me from it.’
“Endeavouring to assume a soothing voice and look, when he would
willingly have tortured me, to force me to feel his power, his
countenance had an infernal expression, when he desired me, ‘Not to
expose myself to the servants, by obliging him to confine me in my
apartment; if then I would give my promise not to quit the house
precipitately, I should be free—and—.’ I declared, interrupting him,
‘that I would promise nothing. I had no measures to keep with him—I was
resolved, and would not condescend to subterfuge.’
“He muttered, ‘that I should soon repent of these preposterous airs;’
and, ordering tea to be carried into my little study, which had a
communication with my bed-chamber, he once more locked the door upon
me, and left me to my own meditations. I had passively followed him up
stairs, not wishing to fatigue myself with unavailing exertion.
“Nothing calms the mind like a fixed purpose. I felt as if I had heaved
a thousand weight from my heart; the atmosphere seemed lightened; and,
if I execrated the institutions of society, which thus enable men to
tyrannize over women, it was almost a disinterested sentiment. I
disregarded present inconveniences, when my mind had done struggling
with itself,—when reason and inclination had shaken hands and were at
peace. I had no longer the cruel task before me, in endless
perspective, aye, during the tedious for ever of life, of labouring to
overcome my repugnance—of labouring to extinguish the hopes, the maybes
of a lively imagination. Death I had hailed as my only chance for
deliverance; but, while existence had still so many charms, and life
promised happiness, I shrunk from the icy arms of an unknown tyrant,
though far more inviting than those of the man, to whom I supposed
myself bound without any other alternative; and was content to linger a
little longer, waiting for I knew not what, rather than leave ‘the warm
precincts of the cheerful day,’ and all the unenjoyed affection of my
nature.
“My present situation gave a new turn to my reflection; and I wondered
(now the film seemed to be withdrawn, that obscured the piercing sight
of reason) how I could, previously to the deciding outrage, have
considered myself as everlastingly united to vice and folly! ‘Had an
evil genius cast a spell at my birth; or a demon stalked out of chaos,
to perplex my understanding, and enchain my will, with delusive
prejudices?’
“I pursued this train of thinking; it led me out of myself, to
expatiate on the misery peculiar to my sex. ‘Are not,’ I thought, ‘the
despots for ever stigmatized, who, in the wantonness of power,
commanded even the most atrocious criminals to be chained to dead
bodies? though surely those laws are much more inhuman, which forge
adamantine fetters to bind minds together, that never can mingle in
social communion! What indeed can equal the wretchedness of that state,
in which there is no alternative, but to extinguish the affections, or
encounter infamy?’”