s, because mind would be
an impediment to gross enjoyment. Men who are inferior to their fellow
men, are always most anxious to establish their superiority over women.
But where are these reflections leading me?

"Women who have lost their husband's affection, are justly reproved for
neglecting their persons, and not taking the same pains to keep, as to
gain a heart; but who thinks of giving the same advice to men, though
women are continually stigmatized for being attached to fops; and from
the nature of their education, are more susceptible of disgust? Yet why a
woman should be expected to endure a sloven, with more patience than a
man, and magnanimously to govern herself, I cannot conceive; unless it be
supposed arrogant in her to look for respect as well as a maintenance. It
is not easy to be pleased, because, after promising to love, in different
circumstances, we are told that it is our duty. I cannot, I am sure
(though, when attending the sick, I never felt disgust) forget my own
sensations, when rising with health and spirit, and after scenting the
sweet morning, I have met my husband at the breakfast table. The active
attention I had been giving to domestic regulations, which were generally
settled before he rose, or a walk, gave a glow to my countenance, that
contrasted with his squallid appearance. The squeamishness of stomach
alone, produced by the last night's intemperance, which he took no pains
to conceal, destroyed my appetite. I think I now see him lolling in an
arm-chair, in a dirty powdering gown, soiled linen, ungartered stockings,
and tangled hair, yawning and stretching himself. The newspaper was
immediately called for, if not brought in on the tea-board, from which he
would scarcely lift his eyes while I poured out the tea, excepting to ask
for some brandy to put into it, or to declare that he could not eat. In
answer to any question, in his best humour, it was a drawling 'What do
you say, child?' But if I demanded money for the house expences, which I
put off till the last moment, his customary reply, often prefaced with an
oath, was, 'Do you think me, madam, made of money?'--The butcher, the
baker, must wait; and, what was worse, I was often obliged to witness
his surly dismission of tradesmen, who were in want of their money, and
whom I sometimes paid with the presents my uncle gave me for my own use.

"At this juncture my father's mistress, by terrifying his conscience,
prevailed on him to mar