Seas will not now divide us, nor years elapse before we see each other.
Thus, hopeful for herself and her sisters, she started out upon a new road, which, smoother than any she had yet trodden, was not without its many thorns and pitfalls. For a little while she stayed with Mr. Johnson, whose house was then, as ever, open to her. But as soon as possible she moved to lodgings he found for her in George Street, in the neighborhood of Blackfriars’ Bridge. Here she was near him, and this was an important consideration, as the work he proposed to give her necessitated frequent intercourse between them, and it was also an advantage for her to be within reasonable distance of the only friend she possessed in London.
Mr. Johnson made her his “reader;” that is to say, he gave her the manuscripts sent to him to read and criticise; he also required that she should translate for him foreign works, for which there was then a great demand, and that she should contribute to the “Analytical Review,” which had just been established. Her position was a good one. It is true it left her little time for original work, and Godwin thought that it contracted rather than enlarged her genius for the time being. But it gave her a certain valuable experience and much practice which she would not otherwise have obtained, and it insured her steady employment. She was to the publisher what a staff contributor is to a newspaper. Whenever anything was to be done, she was called upon to do it. Therefore, there was no danger of her dying of starvation in a garret, like Chatterton, or of her offering her manuscripts to one unwilling bookseller after another, as happened to Carlyle.
She did not disappoint Mr. Johnson’s expectations. She worked well and diligently, being thoroughly conscientious in whatever she did. The office of “reader” is no mere sinecure; it requires a keen critical sense, an impartial mind, and not a little moral courage. The first of these qualifications Mary possessed naturally, and her honesty enabled her to cultivate the two last. She was as fearless in her criticisms as she was just; she praised and found fault with equal temerity. This disagreeable duty was the indirect cause of the happiest event of her life. The circumstance in question belongs to a later date, but it may more appropriately be mentioned here in connection with this branch of her work. On one occasion she had to read a volume of Essays written by Miss Hayes. The preface displeased her, and this she told the author, stating her reasons with unhesitating frankness. Miss Hayes was a woman capable of appreciating such candor of speech; and the business transaction led to a sincere and lasting friendship. Miss Hayes was the mutual friend who succeeded in producing a better feeling between Godwin and Mary, who, as the sequel will show, were not very friendly when they first met. This fact adds a personal interest to Mary’s letter. She writes,—
“I yesterday mentioned to Mr. Johnson your request, and he assented, desiring that the titlepage might be sent to him. I therefore can say nothing more, for trifles of this kind I have always left to him to settle; and you must be aware, madam, that the honor of publishing, the phrase on which you have laid a stress, is the cant of both trade and sex; for if really equality should ever take place in society, the man who is employed and gives a just equivalent for the money he receives will not behave with the servile obsequiousness of a servant.
“I am now going to treat you with still greater frankness. I do not approve of your preface, and I will tell you why: if your work should deserve attention, it is a blur on the very face of it. Disadvantages of education, etc., ought, in my opinion, never to be pleaded with the public in excuse for defects of any importance, because if the writer has not sufficient strength of mind to overcome the common difficulties that lie in his way, nature seems to command him, with a very audible voice, to leave the task of instructing others to those who can. This kind of vain humility has ever disgusted me; and I should say to an author, who humbly sued for forbearance, If you have not a tolerably good opinion of your own production, why intrude it on the public? We have plenty of bad books already, that have just gasped for breath and died. The last paragraph I particularly object to, it is so full of vanity. Your male friends will still treat you like a woman; and many a man, for instance Dr. Johnson, Lord Littleton, and even Dr. Priestley have insensibly been led to utter warm eulogiums in private that they would be sorry openly to avow without some cooling explanatory ifs. An author, especially a woman, should be cautious, lest she too hastily swallows the crude praises which partial friend and polite acquaintance bestow thoughtlessly when the supplicating eye looks for them. In short, it requires great resolution to try rather to be useful than to please. With this remark in your head, I must beg you to pardon my freedom whilst you consider the purport of what I am going to add,—rest on yourself. If your essays have merit, they will stand alone; if not, the shouldering up of Dr. this or that will not long keep them from falling to the ground. The vulgar have a pertinent proverb, ‘Too many cooks spoil the broth;’ and let me remind you that when weakness claims indulgence, it seems to justify the despotism of strength. Indeed, the preface, and even your pamphlet, is too full of yourself. Inquiries ought to be made before they are answered; and till a work strongly interests the public, true modesty should keep the author in the background, for it is only about the character and life of a good author that curiosity is active. A blossom is but a blossom.”
It is a pity that most of Mary’s contributions to the “Analytical Review,” being unsigned, cannot be credited to her. She wrote for it many reviews and similar articles, and they probably were characterized by her uncompromising honesty and straightforwardness of speech. “If you do not like the manner in which I reviewed Dr. J——’s S—— on his wife,” she wrote in a note to Mr. Johnson, “be it known unto you, I will not do it any other way. I felt some pleasure in paying a just tribute of respect to the memory of a man, who, spite of all his faults, I have an affection for.” From this it appears, that to tell the truth in these matters was not always an uncongenial duty.
She was principally occupied in translating. Following Mr. Johnson’s advice, she had while in Ireland perfected her French. She was tolerably familiar with Italian; and she now devoted all her spare minutes, and these could not have been many, to mastering German. Her energy was unflagging, and her determination to succeed in the calling she had chosen, indomitable. By studying she was laying up the only capital she knew how to accumulate, and she feared her future loss should she not make use of present opportunities. She wrote to Mr. Johnson, who was materially interested in her progress,—
I really want a German grammar, as I intend to attempt to learn that language, and I will tell you the reason why. While I live, I am persuaded, I must exert my understanding to procure an independence and render myself useful. To make the task easier, I ought to store my mind with knowledge. The seed-time is passing away. I see the necessity of laboring now, and of that necessity I do not complain; on the contrary, I am thankful that I have more than common incentives to pursue knowledge, and draw my pleasures from the employments that are within my reach. You perceive this is not a gloomy day. I feel at this moment particularly grateful to you. Without your humane and delicate assistance, how many obstacles should I not have had to encounter! Too often should I have been out of patience with my fellow-creatures, whom I wish to love. Allow me to love you, my dear sir, and call friend a being I respect. Adieu.
Mary W.