She was, I have been told by an intimate friend, very pretty and feminine in manners and person; much attached to those very observances she decries in her works; so that if any gentleman did not fly to open the door as she approached it, or take up the handkerchief she dropped, she showered on him the full weight of reproach and displeasure; an inconsistency she would have doubtless despised in a disciple. MRS. ELWOOD (quoting a communication from “a well-known living writer”): ‘Memoirs of the Literary Ladies of England.’ London: Henry Colburn, 1843. * * * * * [Sidenote: Irritability] Previous to your departure, I requested you not to torment me by leaving the day of your return undecided. But whatever tenderness you took away with you seems to have evaporated on the journey.... In short, your being so late to-night, and the chance of your not coming, shows so little consideration, that unless you suppose me to be a stick or a stone, you must have forgot to think, as well as to feel, since you have been on the wing. MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT (GODWIN): _Letter to Wm. Godwin_, in ‘William Godwin, His Friends and Contemporaries,’ by C. Kegan Paul. * * * * * [Sidenote: Religious spirit.] It gives me the sincerest satisfaction to find that you look for comfort where only it is to be met with, and that Being in whom you trust will not desert you. Be not cast down, while we are struggling with care, life slips away, and, through the assistance of Divine grace, we are obtaining habits of virtue that will enable us to relish those joys that we cannot now form any idea of. MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT: _Letter to George Blood_, 1785. * * * * * [After Fanny’s death:] Could I not look for comfort where only ’tis to be found, I should have been mad before this, but I feel that I am supported by that Being who alone can heal a wounded spirit. MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT: _Letter to her sister_, 1785. In ‘William Godwin, His Friends and Contemporaries,’ by C. Kegan Paul. * * * * * Love to man leads to devotion--grand and sublime images strike the imagination--God is seen in every floating cloud, and comes from the misty mountain to receive the noblest homage of an intelligent creature--praise. How solemn is the moment, when all affections and remembrances fade before the sublime admiration which the wisdom and goodness of God inspires, when he is worshipped in a _temple not made with hands_, and the world seems to contain only the mind that formed, and the mind that contemplates it! These are not the weak responses of ceremonial devotion. MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT: _Essay on Poetry, and our Relish for the Beauties of Nature_, in ‘Posthumous Works.’ * * * * *