LETTER VI
Friday Morning.
I am ſick with vexation—and wiſh I could knock my fooliſh head againſt the wall, that bodily pain might make me feel leſs anguiſh from ſelf-reproach! To ſay the truth, I was never more diſpleaſed with myſelf, and I will tell you the cauſe.—You may recollect that I did not mention to you the circumſtance of ——— having a fortune left to him; nor did a hint of it drop from me when I converſed with my ſiſter; becauſe I knew he had a ſufficient motive for concealing it. Laſt Sunday, when his character was aſperſed, as I thought, unjuſtly, in the heat of vindication I informed ****** that he was now independent; but, at the ſame time, deſired him not to repeat my information to B——; yet, laſt Tueſday, he told him all—and the boy at B——'s gave Mrs. ——— an account of it. As Mr. ——— knew he had only made a confident of me (I bluſh to think of it!) he gueſſed the channel of intelligence, and this morning came (not to reproach me, I wiſh he had!) but to point out the injury I have done him.—Let what will be the conſequence, I will reimburſe him, if I deny myſelf the neceſſaries of life—and even then my folly will ſting me.—Perhaps you can ſcarcely conceive the miſery I at this moment endure—that I, whoſe power of doing good is ſo limited, ſhould do harm, galls my very ſoul. ****** may laugh at theſe qualms—but, ſuppoſing Mr. ——— to be unworthy, I am not the leſs to blame. Surely it is hell to deſpiſe one's ſelf!—I did not want this additional vexation—at this time I have many that hang heavily on my ſpirits. I ſhall not call on you this month—nor ſtir out.—My ſtomach has been ſo ſuddenly and violently affected, I am unable to lean over the deſk.
mary wollſtonecraft.
LETTER VII
As I am become a reviewer, I think it right, in the way of buſineſs, to conſider the ſubject. You have alarmed the editor of the Critical, as the advertiſement prefixed to the Appendix plainly ſhows. The Critical appears to me to be a timid, mean production, and its ſucceſs is a reflection on the taſte and judgment of the public; but, as a body, who ever gave it credit for much? The voice of the people is only the voice of truth, when ſome man of abilities has had time to get faſt hold of the great noſe of the monſter. Of courſe, local fame is generally a clamour, and dies away. The Appendix to the Monthly afforded me more amuſement, though every article almoſt wants energy and a cant of virtue and liberality is ſtrewed over it; always tame, and eager to pay court to eſtabliſhed fame. The account of Necker is one unvaried tone of admiration. Surely men were born only to provide for the ſuſtenance of the body by enfeebling the mind!
mary.
