Mary Wollstonecraft | Page 7

nothing but cold formality. Nor was there for her much compensation
in the occasional caresses of her father. Sensitive to a fault, she could
not forgive his blows and unkindness so quickly as to be able to enjoy
his smiles and favors. Moreover, she had little chance of finding,
without, the devotion and gentle care which were denied to her within
her own family. Mr. Wollstonecraft remained so short a time in each
locality in which he made his home, that his wife saw but little of her
relations and old acquaintances; while no sooner had his children made
new friends, than they were separated from them.
To whatever town they went, the Wollstonecrafts seem to have given
signs of gentility and good social standing, which won for them, if not
many, at least respectable friends. At Barking an intimacy sprang up
between them and the family of Mr. Bamber Gascoyne, Member of
Parliament. But Mary was too young to profit by this friendship. It was
most ruthlessly interrupted three years later, when, in 1768, the restless
head of the house, whose industry in Barking had not equalled the
enterprise which brought him there, took his departure for Beverly, in
Yorkshire.
This was the most complete change that he had as yet made. Heretofore
his wanderings had been confined to Essex. But he either found in his
new home more promising occupation and congenial companionship
than he had hitherto, or else there was a short respite to his feverish

restlessness, for he continued in it for six years. It was here Mary
received almost all the education that was ever given her by regular
schooling. Beverly was nothing but a small market-town, though she in
her youthful enthusiasm thought it large and handsome, and its
inhabitants brilliant and elegant, and was much disappointed, when she
passed through it many years afterwards, on her way to Norway, to see
how far the reality fell short of her youthful idealizations. Its schools
could not have been of a very high order, and we do not need Godwin's
assurance to know that Mary owed little of her subsequent culture to
them. But her education may be said to have really begun in 1775,
when her father, tired of farming and tempted by commercial hopes,
left Beverly for Hoxton, near London.
Mary was at this time in her sixteenth year. The effect of her home life,
under which most children would have succumbed, had been to
develop her character at an earlier age than is usual with women. In
spite of the tyranny and caprice of her parents, and, indeed, perhaps
because of them, she had soon asserted her individuality and
superiority. When she had recognized the mistaken motives of her
mother and the weakness of her father, she had been forced to rely
upon her own judgment and self-command. It is a wonderful proof of
her fine instincts that, though she must have known her strength, she
did not rebel, and that her keen insight into the injustice of some
actions did not prevent her realizing the justice of others. Her mind
seems to have been from the beginning too evenly balanced for any
such misconceptions. When reprimanded, she deservedly found in the
reprimand, as she once told Godwin, the one means by which she
became reconciled to herself for the fault which had called it forth. As
she matured, her immediate relations could not but yield to the
influence which she exercised over all with whom she was brought into
close contact. If there be such a thing as animal magnetism, she
possessed it in perfection. Her personal attractions commanded love,
and her great powers of sympathy drew people, without their knowing
why, to lean upon her for moral support. In the end she became an
authority in her family. Mrs. Wollstonecraft was in time compelled to
bestow upon her the affection which she had first withheld. It was the
ugly duckling after all who proved to be the swan of the flock. Mr.

Wollstonecraft learned to hold his eldest daughter in awe, and his wrath
sometimes diminished in her presence.
Pity was always Mary's ruling passion. Feeling deeply the family
sorrows, she was quick to forget herself in her efforts to lighten them
when this privilege was allowed to her. There were opportunities
enough for self-sacrifice. With every year Mr. Wollstonecraft
squandered more money, and grew idler and more dissipated. Home
became unbearable, the wife's burden heavier. Mary, emancipated from
the restraints of childhood, no longer remained a silent spectator of her
father's fits of passion. When her mother was the victim of his violence,
she interposed boldly between them, determined that if his blows fell
upon any one, it should be upon herself. There were occasions when
she so feared the results