." Their combined efforts were in vain.
Mr. Wollstonecraft had succeeded too well in ruining himself; and for the
remainder of her life all Mary could do for him was to help him with her
money. Godwin says that, in addition to these already burdensome duties,
she took charge, in her own house, of a little girl of seven years of
age, a relation of Mr. Skeys.

She struggled bravely, but there were times when it required superhuman
efforts to persevere. She was subject to attacks of depression which
usually resulted in physical illness. She gives a graphic description of
the mental and bodily weakness against which she had to fight, in a note
written at this period and addressed to Mr. Johnson:--

"I am a mere animal, and instinctive emotions too often silence the
suggestions of reason. Your note, I can scarcely tell why, hurt me,
and produced a kind of winterly smile, which diffuses a beam of
despondent tranquillity over the features. I have been very ill;
Heaven knows it was more than fancy. After some sleepless,
wearisome nights, towards the morning I have grown delirious. Last
Thursday, in particular, I imagined ---- was thrown into his great
distress by his folly; and I, unable to assist him, was in an
agony. My nerves were in such a painful state of irritation I
suffered more than I can express. Society was necessary, and might
have diverted me till I gained more strength; but I blush when I
recollect how often I have teased you with childish complaints and
the reveries of a disordered imagination. I even _imagined_ that I
intruded on you, because you never called on me though you
perceived that I was not well. I have nourished a sickly kind of
delicacy, which gave me as many unnecessary pangs. I acknowledge
that life is but a jest, and often a frightful dream, yet catch
myself every day searching for something serious, and feel real
misery from the disappointment. I am a strange compound of weakness
and resolution. However, if I must suffer, I will endeavor to
suffer in silence. There is certainly a great defect in my mind; my
wayward heart creates its own misery. Why I am made thus, I cannot
tell; and, till I can form some idea of the whole of my existence,
I must be content to weep and dance like a child,--long for a toy,
and be tired of it as soon as I get it.

"We must each of us we