things, to write a series
of letters on the management of infants. This was a subject to which in
earlier years she had given much attention, and her experience with her
own child had been a practical confirmation of conclusions then formed.
This was to have been followed by another series of books for the
instruction of children. The latter project was really the older of the
two. Her remarks on education in the "Rights of Women" make it a matter
of regret that she did not live to carry it out. But her chief literary
enterprise during the last year of her life was her story of "Maria; or,
The Wrongs of Woman." Her interest in it as an almost personal narrative,
and her desire to make it a really good novel, were so great that she
wrote and rewrote parts of it many times. She devoted more hours to it
than would be supposed possible, judging from the rapidity with which her
other books were produced.

But, however busy she might be, she was always at leisure to do good.
Business was never an excuse for her to decline the offices of humanity.
Everina was her guest during this year, and at a time, too, when it was
particularly inconvenient for her to have visitors. Her kindness also
revealed itself in many minor ways. When she had to choose between her
own pleasure and that of others, she was sure to decide in their favor. A
proof of her readiness to sacrifice herself in small matters is contained
in the following note, written to Godwin:--

_Saturday morning_, May 21, 1797.

... Montague called on me this morning, that is, breakfasted with
me, and invited me to go with him and the Wedgwoods into the
country to-morrow and return the next day. As I love the country,
and think, with a poor mad woman I know, that there is God or
something very consolatory in the air, I should without hesitation
have accepted the invitation, but for my engagement with your
sister. To her even I should have made an apology, could I have
seen her, or rather have stated that the circumstance would not
occur again. As it is, I am afraid of wounding her feelings,
because an engagement often becomes important in proportion as it
has been anticipated. I began to write to ask your opinion
respecting the propriety of sending to her, and feel as I write
that I had better conquer my desire of contemplating
unsophisticated nature, than give her a moment's pain.

CHAPTE