You left me with three opulent tradeſmen; their converſation was not calculated to beguile the way, when the ſable curtain concealed the beauties of nature. I liſtened to the tricks of trade—and ſhrunk away, without wiſhing to grow rich; even the novelty of the ſubjects did not render them pleaſing; fond as I am of tracing the paſſions in all their different forms—I was not ſurpriſed by any glimpſe of the ſublime, or beautiful—though one of them imagined I would be a uſeful partner in a good firm. I was very much fatigued, and have ſcarcely recovered myſelf. I do not expect to enjoy the ſame tranquil pleaſures Henley afforded: I meet with new objects to employ my mind; but many painful emotions are complicated with the reflections they give riſe to.
I do not intend to enter on the old topic, yet hope to hear from you—and am yours, &c.
mary wollſtonecraft.
LETTER IV
Friday Night.
My dear ſir,
Though your remarks are generally judicious—I cannot now concur with you, I mean with reſpect to the preface[67-A], and have not altered it. I hate the uſual ſmooth way of exhibiting proud humility. A general rule only extends to the majority—and, believe me, the few judicious parents who may peruſe my book, will not feel themſelves hurt—and the weak are too vain to mind what is ſaid in a book intended for children.
I return you the Italian MS.—but do not haſtily imagine that I am indolent. I would not ſpare any labour to do my duty—and, after the moſt laborious day, that ſingle thought would ſolace me more than any pleaſures the ſenſes could enjoy. I find I could not tranſlate the MS. well. If it was not a MS, I ſhould not be ſo eaſily intimidated; but the hand, and errors in orthography, or abbreviations, are a ſtumbling-block at the firſt ſetting out.—I cannot bear to do any thing I cannot do well—and I ſhould loſe time in the vain attempt.
I had, the other day, the ſatiſfaction of again receiving a letter from my poor, dear Margaret[69-A].—With all a mother's fondneſs I could tranſcribe a part of it—She ſays, every day her affection to me, and dependence on heaven increaſe, &c.—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—and my reaſon may permit me to love a female.—I now allude to ———. I have received another letter from her, and her childiſh complaints vex me—indeed they do—As uſual, good-night.