“I had, the other day, the satisfaction of again receiving a letter from my poor dear Margaret. With all the mother’s fondness, I could transcribe a part of it. She says, every day her affection to me, and dependence on heaven, increase, etc. I miss her innocent caresses, and sometimes indulge a pleasing hope, that she may be allowed to cheer my childless age if I am to live to be old. At any rate, I may hear of the virtues I may not contemplate.”

Lady Kingsborough made no effort to win her children’s affection, but she was unwilling that they should bestow it upon a stranger. She could not forgive the governess who had taken her place in their hearts. She and her eldest daughter had on this account frequent quarrels. Mary’s position was therefore untenable. Her surroundings were uncongenial, her duties distasteful, and she was disapproved of by her employer. Nothing was needed but a decent pretext for the latter to dismiss her. This she before long found when, Mary being temporarily separated from her pupils, Margaret showed more regret than her mother thought the occasion warranted. Lady Kingsborough seized the opportunity to give the governess her dismissal. This was in the autumn of 1788, and the family were in London. Mary had for some weeks known that this end was inevitable, but still her departure, when the time came, was sudden. It was a trial to her to leave the children, but escape from the household was a joyful emancipation. Again she was obliged to face the world, and again she emerged triumphant from her struggles. With each new change she advanced a step in her intellectual progress. After she left Lady Kingsborough she began the literary life which was to make her famous.

CHAPTER IV.

LITERARY LIFE.

1788-1791.

During her residence with the family of Lady Kingsborough in Ireland, Mary, as has been seen, corresponded with Mr. Johnson the publisher. In her hour of need she went to him for advice and assistance. He strongly recommended, as he had more than once before, that she should give up teaching altogether, and devote her time to literary work.

Mr. Johnson was a man of considerable influence and experience, and he was enterprising and progressive. He published most of the principal books of the day. The Edgeworths sent him their novels from Ireland, and Cowper his poetry from Olney. One day he gave the reading world Mrs. Barbauld’s works for the young, and the next, the speculations of reformers and social philosophers whose rationalism deterred many another publisher. It was for printing the Rev. Gilbert Wakefield’s too plain-spoken writings that he was, at a later date, fined and imprisoned. Quick to discern true merit, he was equally prompt in encouraging it. As Mary once said of him, he was a man before he was a bookseller. His kind, generous nature made him as ready to assist needy and deserving authors with his purse as he was to publish their works. From the time he had seen Mary’s pamphlet on the “Education of Daughters,” he had been deeply and honestly interested in her. It had convinced him of her power to do something greater. Her letters had sustained him in this opinion, and her novel still further confirmed it. He now, in addition to urging her to try to support herself by writing, promised her continual employment if she would settle in London.

To-day there would seem no possible reason for any one in her position to hesitate before accepting such an offer. But in her time it was an unusual occurrence for a woman to adopt literature as a profession. It is true there had been a great change since Swift declared that “not one gentleman’s daughter in a thousand has been brought to read or understand her own natural tongue.” Women had learned not only to read, but to write. Miss Burney had written her novels, Lady Mary Wortley Montagu her Letters, and Mrs. Inchbald her “Simple Story” and her plays, before Mary came to London. Though the Amelias and Lydia Melfords of fiction were still favorite types, the blue-stocking was gaining ascendency. Because she was such a rara avis she received a degree of attention and devotion which now appears extraordinary. Mrs. Inchbald and Mrs. Opie, Maria Edgeworth and Mrs. Barbauld, at the end of the last and beginning of this century, were fêted and praised as seldom falls to the lot of their successors of the present generation. But, despite this fact, they were not quite sure that they were keeping within the limits of feminine modesty by publishing their writings. Lady Mary Wortley Montagu had considered it necessary to apologize for having translated Epictetus. Miss Burney shrank from publicity, and preferred the slavery of a court to the liberty of home life, which meant time for writing. Good Mrs. Barbauld feared she “stepped out of the bounds of female reserve” when she became an author. They all wrote either for amusement or as a last resource to eke out a slender income. But Mary would, by agreeing to Mr. Johnson’s proposition, deliberately throw over other chances of making a livelihood to rely entirely upon literature. She was young, unmarried, and, to all intents and purposes, alone in the world. Such a step was unprecedented in English literary annals. She would really be, as she wrote to her sister, the first of a new genus. Her conduct would unquestionably be criticised and censured. She would have to run the gauntlet of public opinion, a much more trying ordeal than that through which she had passed at the castle in Mitchelstown.

But, on the other hand, she would thereby gain freedom and independence, for which she had always yearned above all else; her work would be congenial; and, what to her was even more important, she would obtain better means to further the welfare of her sisters and brothers, and to assist her father. Compared to these inducements, the fact that people would look upon her askance was a very insignificant consideration. She believed in a woman’s right to independence; and, the first chance she had, she acted according to her lights.

But, at the same time, she knew that if her friends heard of her determination before she had carried it into effect, they would try to dissuade her from it. She was firmly resolved not to be influenced in this matter by any one; and therefore, to avoid the unpleasant discussions and disputes that might arise from a difference of opinion, she maintained strict secrecy as to her plans. From her letters it seems probable that she had made definite arrangements with Mr. Johnson before her formal dismissal by Lady Kingsborough. In September of 1788 she stayed at Henley for a short time with Mrs. Bishop; and it was doubtless this visit that caused Margaret’s unhappiness and hence her mother’s indignation. At Henley Mary enjoyed a short interval of rest. The quiet of the place and temporary idleness were the best of tonics for her disordered nerves, and an excellent preparation for her new labors. That she was at that time determined to give up teaching for literature, but that she did not take her sister into her confidence, is shown by this letter written to Mr. Johnson, containing a pleasant description of her holiday:—