"He was a man of great talents, and of brilliant wit; but, a worn-out votary of voluptuouſneſs, his deſires became faſtidious in proportion as they grew weak, and the native tenderneſs of his heart was undermined by a vitiated imagination. A thoughtleſs career of libertiniſm and ſocial enjoyment, had injured his health to ſuch a degree, that, whatever pleaſure his converſation afforded me (and my eſteem was enſured by proofs of the generous humanity of his diſpoſition), the being his miſtreſs was purchaſing it at a very dear rate. With ſuch a keen perception of the delicacies of ſentiment, with an imagination invigorated by the exerciſe of genius, how could he ſink into the groſſneſs of ſenſuality!
"But, to paſs over a ſubject which I recollect with pain, I muſt remark to you, as an anſwer to your often-repeated queſtion, 'Why my ſentiments and language were ſuperior to my ſtation?' that I now began to read, to beguile the tediouſneſs of ſolitude, and to gratify an inquiſitive, active mind. I had often, in my childhood, followed a ballad-ſinger, to hear the ſequel of a diſmal ſtory, though ſure of being ſeverely puniſhed for delaying to return with whatever I was ſent to purchaſe. I could juſt ſpell and put a ſentence together, and I liſtened to the various arguments, though often mingled with obſcenity, which occurred at the table where I was allowed to preſide: for a literary friend or two frequently came home with my maſter, to dine and paſs the night. Having loſt the privileged reſpect of my ſex, my preſence, inſtead of reſtraining, perhaps gave the reins to their tongues; ſtill I had the advantage of hearing diſcuſſions, from which, in the common courſe of life, women are excluded.
"You may eaſily imagine, that it was only by degrees that I could comprehend ſome of the ſubjects they inveſtigated, or acquire from their reaſoning what might be termed a moral ſenſe. But my fondneſs of reading increaſing, and my maſter occaſionally ſhutting himſelf up in this retreat, for weeks together, to write, I had many opportunities of improvement. At firſt, conſidering money I was right!" (exclaimed Jemima, altering her tone of voice) "as the only means, after my loſs of reputation, of obtaining reſpect, or even the toleration of humanity, I had not the leaſt ſcruple to ſecrete a part of the ſums intruſted to me, and to ſcreen myſelf from detection by a ſyſtem of falſhood. But, acquiring new principles, I began to have the ambition of returning to the reſpectable part of ſociety, and was weak enough to ſuppoſe it poſſible. The attention of my unaſſuming inſtructor, who, without being ignorant of his own powers, poſſeſſed great ſimplicity of manners, ſtrengthened the illuſion. Having ſometimes caught up hints for thought, from my untutored remarks, he often led me to diſcuſs the ſubjects he was treating, and would read to me his productions, previous to their publication, wiſhing to profit by the criticiſm of unſophiſticated feeling. The aim of his writings was to touch the ſimple ſprings of the heart; for he deſpiſed the would-be oracles, the ſelf-elected philoſophers, who fright away fancy, while ſifting each grain of thought to prove that ſlowneſs of comprehenſion is wiſdom.
"I ſhould have diſtinguiſhed this as a moment of ſunſhine, a happy period in my life, had not the repugnance the diſguſting libertiniſm of my protector inſpired, daily become more painful.—And, indeed, I ſoon did recollect it as ſuch with agony, when his ſudden death (for he had recourſe to the moſt exhilarating cordials to keep up the convivial tone of his ſpirits) again threw me into the deſert of human ſociety. Had he had any time for reflection, I am certain he would have left the little property in his power to me: but, attacked by the fatal apoplexy in town, his heir, a man of rigid morals, brought his wife with him to take poſſeſſion of the houſe and effects, before I was even informed of his death,—'to prevent,' as ſhe took care indirectly to tell me, 'ſuch a creature as ſhe ſuppoſed me to be, from purloining any of them, had I been apprized of the event in time.'
"The grief I felt at the ſudden ſhock the information gave me, which at firſt had nothing ſelfiſh in it, was treated with contempt, and I was ordered to pack up my clothes; and a few trinkets and books, given me by the generous deceaſed, were conteſted, while they piouſly hoped, with a reprobating ſhake of the head, 'that God would have mercy on his ſinful ſoul!' With ſome difficulty, I obtained my arrears of wages; but aſking—ſuch is the ſpirit-grinding conſequence of poverty and infamy—for a character for honeſty and economy, which God knows I merited, I was told by this—why muſt I call her woman?—'that it would go againſt her conſcience to recommend a kept miſtreſs.' Tears ſtarted in my eyes, burning tears; for there are ſituations in which a wretch is humbled by the contempt they are conſcious they do not deſerve.
"I returned to the metropolis; but the ſolitude of a poor lodging was inconceivably dreary, after the ſociety I had enjoyed. To be cut off from human converſe, now I had been taught to reliſh it, was to wander a ghoſt among the living. Beſides, I foreſaw, to aggravate the ſeverity of my fate, that my little pittance would ſoon melt away. I endeavoured to obtain needlework; but, not having been taught early, and my hands being rendered clumſy by hard work, I did not ſufficiently excel to be employed by the ready-made linen ſhops, when ſo many women, better qualified, were ſuing for it. The want of a character prevented my getting a place; for, irkſome as ſervitude would have been to me, I ſhould have made another trial, had it been feaſible. Not that I diſliked employment, but the inequality of condition to which I muſt have ſubmitted. I had acquired a taſte for literature, during the five years I had lived with a literary man, occaſionally converſing with men of the firſt abilities of the age; and now to deſcend to the loweſt vulgarity, was a degree of wretchedneſs not to be imagined unfelt. I had not, it is true, taſted the charms of affection, but I had been familiar with the graces of humanity.
"One of the gentlemen, whom I had frequently dined in company with, while I was treated like a companion, met me in the ſtreet, and enquired after my health. I ſeized the occaſion, and began to deſcribe my ſituation; but he was in haſte to join, at dinner, a ſelect party of choice ſpirits; therefore, without waiting to hear me, he impatiently put a guinea into my hand, ſaying, 'It was a pity ſuch a ſenſible woman ſhould be in diſtreſs—he wiſhed me well from his ſoul.'
"To another I wrote, ſtating my caſe, and requeſting advice. He was an advocate for unequivocal ſincerity; and had often, in my preſence, deſcanted on the evils which ariſe in ſociety from the deſpotiſm of rank and riches.
"In reply, I received a long eſſay on the energy of the human mind, with continual alluſions to his own force of character. He added, 'That the woman who could write ſuch a letter as I had ſent him, could never be in want of reſources, were ſhe to look into herſelf, and exert her powers; miſery was the conſequence of indolence, and, as to my being ſhut out from ſociety, it was the lot of man to ſubmit to certain privations.'
"How often have I heard," ſaid Jemima, interrupting her narrative, "in converſation, and read in books, that every perſon willing to work may find employment? It is the vague aſſertion, I believe, of inſenſible indolence, when it relates to men; but, with reſpect to women, I am ſure of its fallacy, unleſs they will ſubmit to the moſt menial bodily labour; and even to be employed at hard labour is out of the reach of many, whoſe reputation miſfortune or folly has tainted.