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;iv~l         -?      /2.,  /


WILLIAM


GODWIN:


HIS FRIENDS AND CONTEMPORARIES.


I.




BY THE SAME WRITER.
GOETHE'S FAUST. A New Translation in Rime. Crown 8vo. 6s.
This is translated line for line in the metres of the original, and while
it is hoped that not all the spirit has evaporated, it claims to reproduce
the outward form in which that spirit dwelt.
"His translation is the most minutely accurate that has yet been produced-.         i."-Exanziner.
"Mr Paul is a zealous and a faithful interpreter. "-Saturday Review.
WILLIAM GODWIN'S UNPUBLISHED ESSAYS.
THE GENIUS OF CHRISTIANITY UNVEILED: Being Essays, never
before published. By WILLIAM GODWIN. Edited, with a Preface,
by C. KEGAN PAUL. I vol. Crown 8vo. 7s. 6d.
In all these essays Mr Godwin pointed in the direction along which
we, the children of a later day, have advanced, even if he did not indicate the precise path we have travelled.
" Few have thought more clearly and directly than William Godwin, or expressed
their reflections with more simplicity and unreserve."-Examinzer.
"The deliberate thoughts of Godwin deserve to be put before the world for reading
and consideration."-A t/enizetum.
SHELLEY MEMORIALS FROM AUTHENTIC SOURCES.             With (now
first printed) an Essay on Christianity, by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY.
Third Edition. Crown 8vo. With Portrait. Price 5s.
HENRY S. KING & CO., LONDON.










11 'i nti! l]y,,j.


WILLIAM     GODWIN
AFTER A PORTRAIT BY NORTHCOTE
1,  the- po. oir  >i, ( ' -* i.//^//r-^. PArte,.




I




CI




WILLIAM    GODWIN:
HIS FRIENDS AND CONTEMPORARIES.
BY         4S
C. KEGAN PAUL.


WITH PORTRAITS AND ILLUSTRA TIONS.
VOL. I.
HENRY S. KING & CO., LONDON.
I876.




The rights of Translation and of Rep-roduction are reserved.
-/




PREFACE.


MY best thanks are due to Sir Percy Shelley, the grandson
of William Godwin, for the generous manner in which he
has placed at my disposal the whole of the papers in his
possession which relate to his grandfather. These included
a vast quantity of letters and other MSS., some of which had
never been opened since they were laid aside by Godwin's
own hand, many years before his death. Mrs Shelley
began to arrange them for publication soon after that
event, in I836, but many packets had apparently not been
examined by her. This fact renders it the more necessary
that I should state that while Sir Percy Shelley has
sanctioned my work as a whole, he is in no way whatever
answerable for details.  I only am responsible for the
selections made and inferences drawn from the papers, as
well as for every opinion expressed in the book.
A very few of the letters have been already printedsome of Godwin's by Lady Shelley in her "Shelley
Memorials," and some of Coleridge's by Mr Garnett in a
Magazine article.
In all cases where there appeared to be the smallest
doubt in regard to the publication of documents, I have
consulted, where possible, the representatives of the persons
concerned, and have obtained their permission to print the
letters.
C. K. P.
February 1876.




I
I




CONTENTS.
PAGE
CHAPTER I.
EARLY LIFE. I756-I785,                               I
CHAPTER II.
LITERARY WORK. I785-I788,....    24
CHAPTER III.
POLITICAL WRITINGS. I788-I792,....   59
CHAPTER IV.
LITERARY LIFE AND FRIENDS. I793,..,.    77
CHAPTER V.
GODWIN'S WORKS AND POLITICS. 1783-1794,..    99
CHAPTER VI.
FRIENDS AND ACQUAINTANCES. 1794-1796,..   138
CHAPTER VII.
THE WOLLSTONECRAFTS. I759-I79I,...   6




viii                  CONTENTS.
PAGE
CHAPTER VIII.
MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT. I79I-1796,.              200
CHAPTER IX.
MARRIED LIFE. I797,.....         23
CHAPTER X.
MARY GODWIN'S DEATH. I797,.....   272
CHAPTER XI.
A SINGULAR COURTSHIP-FRIENDS. I798,...   292
CHAPTER XII.
ST LEON. MRS REVELEY. 1799,...   328
CHAPTER XIII.
VISIT TO IRELAND-LITERARY SQUABBLES. I800,..   354
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
WILLIAM GODWIN. After a Portrait by Northcote.  Frontispiece.
FACSIMILE OF MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT'S HANDWRITING,........ 200


WISBEACH.-GODWIN'S BIRTHPLACE,.


387




WILLIAM GODWIN:
HIS FRIENDS AND CONTEMPORARIES.
CHAPTER I.'
EARLY LIFE. 1756-1785.
To those conversant with the literary history of the close
of the last, and the first quarter of the present century,
few names are more familiar than that of William Godwin.
The husband of Mary Wollstonecraft, the father-in-law of
Shelley, the confidential friend of Coleridge and Lamb, his
life was so closely intertwined with the lives of those whose
story has been often written, as to render some record of
him valuable, even had the man himself been less remarkable than he was. But though the present generation has
read his works but little, this age owes more to him than
it recognizes; many opinions now clothed in household
words were first formulated by him, and the publication of
his "Political Justice," in I793, marked a distinct epoch in
the growth of liberal thought. During a large part of his
life younger men looked on him as a kind of prophet-sage,
and he exercised a remarkable influence over all with
whom he came in contact.
The mere record of his life, would, if written soon after
his death, have had a deeper interest than it now can have,
the interest being in these days rather antiquarian and


I.


A




2


2WILLIAM GODWIN.


literary than personal and social. But to write such a
life was then possible to one alone, to Godwin's daughter,
Mrs Shelley. She only would have known what to preserve and what to reject from the mass of papers left by
one who never willingly destroyed a written line, and whose
life and opinions had clashed to so great an extent with the
susceptibilities of men then living. But fromcasea into
which there is here no need to enter, Mrs Shelleys was only
able in a measure to select those papers which seemed to
her fittest for publication, and to draw up a few valuable
notes, explanatory of otherwise forgotten circumstances.
Much as this is to be regretted, it may yet be that a freer
handling than is possible to a daughter was needed for
such a life and correspondence as is here presented. Not
however that a veil is lifted from particulars which
Godwin's daughter would have desired to hide; she wished
to conceal nothing of interest except in cases where some
living person might be wounded, or some dear -memory of
the dead, and such danger has now almost or wholly ceased.
For the record of Godwin's early years we are mainly
dependent on an autobiographical fragment, drawn up by
him in the year I8oo, when he was forty-four years of age.
But interest in the extreme detail in which the facts of his
earlier life are presented in this fragment would at all times
have been restricted to the members of his own family, nor
was there anything especially remarkable in the surroundings of his earlier years. For these reasons but a small
portion of his narrative is reproduced in the following pages.
William Godwin was born March 3rd, 1756, at Wisbeach
in Cambridgeshire, at which place his father was a Dissenting Minister. He sprang on both sides from respectable
middle-class families, that of his father having been estab



ANCESTORS.


3


lished for some generations at Newbury in Berkshire, that
of his mother, whose name was Hull, had originally held
landed property in Durham. Mr Hull had married and
settled in Wisbeach, had been originally in the Merchant
Service, and was at the time of his daughter's marriage to
Mr Godwin, the owner of vessels engaged in the coasting
trade; he also sent an occasional venture to the Baltic.
The earliest traceable ancestor on the Godwin side was
a great-great-grandfather, William Godwin, of Newbury,
described in the Parish Register as " Mr," who died, leaving
six sons and three daughters. The following are among
the family traditions, recorded by William Godwin:"Edward, my great-grandfather, was the fifth son of William,
and was born in the year i661. He married, probably in the
year 1694, Mary -, fifteen years younger than himself, and
in the year 1706 was chosen Mayor of the town of which he was
a native. He was educated to the profession of an attorney, and
possessed at the time of his death in 17I9 the office of town clerk
of the corporation of Newbury.
"Edward," his eldest son, "was born Ioth November I695.
He was destined to the profession of a dissenting minister, and
was placed at a suitable age under the reverend Mr Samuel Jones,
who conducted an academy for preparing young persons for the
profession of the ministry at Tewkesbury in Gloucestershire:"
This Samuel Jones was a remarkable man. He was the
son of the Rev. Malachi Jones, a " minister of the gospel
in Pennsylvania," who had emigrated to America early in
life. Samuel was sent to Europe, and received his education in great measure at Leyden, " under the learned Perizonius," Professor of History and Greek, who died 1715.
In 17I I we find him, still quite a young man, taking fifteen
pupils, who were not, however, all constant to the nonconformist training of their tutor. Not only Dr Isaac Watts,




4.


WILLIAM GOD AWIN.


but Thomas Secker, afterwards Archbishop of Canterbury,
and Joseph Butler, Bishop of Durham, author of the
Analogy, were among his pupils. From Tewkesbury,
while still a schoolboy, Butler " conducted a correspondence with Dr Samuel Clarke on the subject of certain propositions in Clarke's treatise, entitled 'A Demonstration of
the Being and Attributes of God,' which were afterwards
printed as an appendix to that work."
"A ridiculous mistake," says Godwin, " has been fallen into by
some persons who have written concerning this Samuel Jones, in
supposing that he married the daughter of Mr John Weaver, one
of the ministers ejected in the reign of Charles II., who was born
about the year 1632, and whose daughter may be supposed to
have been about sixty at the time of Mr Jones's marriage." He
did in fact marry a young womanf named Judith Weaver from
Radnorshire.
"To go back to my grandfather. He was a fellow-student of
Butler and Secker, and" on the death of Mr Jones in October
17 19 "was invited to undertake the conduct of the seminary in which
he had been educated." This offer he declined. "On the i2th
of April 172i he married the widow of his late tutor. He resided
at this time in his professional character of a minister at Hungerford, in the county of Wilts, and in 1723 was called to take charge
of a cpngregation in Little St. Helens, Bishopsgate Street, London, in which situation he continued for the rest of his life. My
grandfather maintained in his advancing years the character he
had acquired in early life, and was frequently consulted by his
brethren as a reviser of their works. He, in particular, superintended the 'Family Expositor' of Dr Philip Doddridge- in its
passage through the press."
Edward Godwin had two sons, Edward, who having run
"a certain career of wildness and dissipation, became a
convert to the tenets and practices of Mr George Whitfield. He was for a short time, for the thread of his life




PORTRAIT OF HIS A THER.


was soon broken, a distinguished preacher in the Methodist
-connection, and an eager publisher of experiences, devout
allegories and hymns." John, the younger of the two sons,
was born Feb. 21, 1723. He was a pupil of Dr Doddridge,
"for whom he retained during life a more affectionate
veneration than for any other human being," became a
dissenting minister, as has been said, and the father of
William Godwin.
The son's portrait of the father is amusing and characteristic. Aiming at the most scrupulous fairness, he succeeds only in giving a very distinct impression that he had
but little love for his father, and no very high opinion of
his mental powers.
"     My paternal grandfather, as I have said, was esteemed a man
of learning; my father was certainly not a man of learning. But
he was something better than a merely learned man can ever be;
he was a man of a warm heart and unblemished manners, ardent
in his friendships, eager for the relief of distress whether of mind
or of circumstances, and decent and zealous in the discharge of
his professional duties. He had so great a disapprobation for the
constitution and discipline of the Church of England, as rather to
approve of his children's absenting themselves from all public
worship than joining in her offices; yet he lived on terms of friendship with many of her members and of her clergy. He was
scrupulous and superstitiouis respecting most of the succours of
religion, particularly the observance of the Lord's day.  My
father, at the time I was most capable of noticing his habits, was
extremely nice in his apparel, and delicate in his food. He spent
much of his time on horseback. This habit grew out of a sentiment of duty, when he resided in a village, the scene of my early
reveries and amusements, where his flock lay variously dispersed
through a circle of from twelve to sixteen miles in diameter. He
was attached to the intercourses of society, yet of the most
unvaried temperance.  He was extremely affectionate, yet at




6


WILLIA M GOD WIN.


least to me, who was perhaps never his favourite, his rebukes had
a painful tone of ill humour and asperity. He was fond of reading
aloud in his family, but the age of novels and romances, of Tom
Jones and Cleopatra, was over with him before my memory. I
scarcely ever heard him read anything but expositions and
sermons. His study occupied but little of his time. His sermon,
for in my memory he only preached once on a Sunday, was regularly begun to be written in a very swift short-hand after tea on
Saturday evening. I believe he was always free from any desire
of intellectual distinction on a large scale; I know that it was with
reluctance that he preached at any time at Norwich, in London,
or any other place where he suspected that his accents might fall
on the ear of criticism. He was regarded by his neighbours as a
wise as well as a good man, and he desired no more. He died at
-fifty years of age, but it was with considerable reluctance that he
quitted this sublunary scene. The last time I stood by his bedside, two or three days before he expired, he repeated with an
anxious voice a hymn from Dr Watts' collection, the first stanza
of which is as follows' When I can read my title clear
'To mansions in the skies,
I'll bid farewell to every fear
And wipe my weeping eyes."'
The notice of his mother is more favourable, and, as will
appear from letters which are extant, not other than
deserved.
" My mother, so long as her husband lived, was the qualifier
and moderator of his austerities. Some of the villagers were impertinent enough to allege that she was too gay in her style cf
decorating her person. She was facetious, and had an ambition
to be thought the teller of a good story, and an adept at hitting
off a smart repartee. She was a most obliging, submissive, and
dutiful wife. She was an expert and active manager in the detail.of household affairs. - Two persons perhaps never lived against




EARLY Z-RAINING.


7


whom the voice of calumny itself had less to urge than my father
and mother. I speak here of her character during the life of my
father. After his death it became considerably changed. She
surrendered herself to the visionary hopes and tormenting fears
of the methodistical sect, and her ordinary economy became
teazingly parsimonious."
It may be added, and indeed will hereafter be sufficiently
evident, that Mrs Godwin was far from being a highly
educated person.
Of this marriage, "which proved extremely prolific,"
William was the seventh child of thirteen. Mrs Godwin
did not suckle her children, and the child was "sent from
home to be nourished by a hireling." When he was again
taken home at the age, apparently, of two years, there was
added to his family circle a first cousin of his father, Miss
Godwin, afterwards Mrs Sothren, "who out of her decent
income, as it was considered, of ~4o a year, paid ~I6 to
my father as a stipend for lodging and board." Miss Godwin had a considerable amount of literary culture, and still
more of literary instinct. This, however, was qualified and
checked by a strongly Calvinistic turn of mind, which
impressed the child whom she made her chief favourite
and companion, but increased the breach between them,
when in after years he adopted opinions widely different
from those in which he had been so carefully nurtured.
To this lady William Godwin owed his first teaching and
initiation into literature.  His earliest books were the
" Pilgrim's Progress," and an "Account of the Pious Deaths
of Many Godly Children," by James Janeway.    "Their
premature eminence," he writes, " suited to my own age and
situation, strongly excited my emulation. I felt as if I




'WILLIAM GOD WI.


were willing to die with them, if I could with equal success
engage the admiration of my friends and mankind." But
while thus nursed in a very hotbed of forced piety, he was
physically a puny child, and records that the persons about
him were much less solicitous for the health of his body
than the health of his soul.
In 1758 Mr Godwin, senior, removed from Wisbeach to.Debenham, "a small market town in the vicinity of Suffolk.
But here his congregation was divided into two factions,
Arian and Trinitarian. The Trinitarians had just before
expelled an heretical pastor, and the defeated Arians were
resolved to grant no suspension of arms to his more orthodox
successor."  He therefore went in about I760 to Guestwick,
sixteen miles north of Norwich, "one of the smallest order
of villages in the county of Norfolk," and here, where it
may be hoped the simple villagers did not know the subtle
differences of rival creeds, he passed the remainder of his
life. The emolument of none of his preferments exceeded
the amount of;60 a year.
William Godwin's school-life was subject to the same
influences which surrounded him at home. HIis earliest
teacher beyond his own family was the mistress of a dame's
school at Guestwick, and, like all the persons who had
hitherto had any charge of him, she " was much occupied
in the concerns of religion. She was considerably stricken
in years, and had seen twenty years of the preceding century. I recollect her bitter lamentations respecting the
innovation in the Style," September 1752, "and the alteration of Christmas Day." Under her tuition he read through
the whole of the Old and New Testaments, and gained,
before he was eight years old, a great familiarity with the
phraseology and manner of the Bible; and this, he himself
thought, had a considerable share in the formation of his




HILDERSON SCHOOL.


9


character. He was a precocious child, in whose mind the
most characteristic features " were religion and love of
distinction." Having determined even thus early to be a
minister, he afterwards recorded that he "preached sermons
in the kitchen, every Sunday afternoon, and at other times,
mounted in a child's high chair, indifferent as to the muster
of persons present at these exhibitions, and undisturbed at
their coming and going." His education at this time was
puritanically strict.  "One Sunday, as I walked in the
garden, I happened to take the cat in my arms. My
father saw me, and seriously reproved my levity, remarking that on the Lord's-day he was ashamed to observe me
demeaning myself with such profaneness."
In March I764, upon the death of his aged schoolmistress,
the boy was sent with one of his brothers to a school at
Hindolveston, or Hilderson, about two miles and a half.from his home. The school consisted of thirty boarders,
and seventy day scholars, among which last were the
Godwins. The name of the master was Akers; he was
celebrated as "the best, or second best, penman in the
county of Norfolk, or, for aught he knew, in England."
This will account for the admirable quality of Godwin's
own handwriting, 'which remained, even to the end of his
long life, as legible as print, yet with a distinct personal
character about it. "Akers was bred a journeyman tailor,
and had never had more than a quarter of a year's schoolig in his life. The rest was the fruit of his own industry.
He was a moderate mathematician, and had a small smattering of Latin. Few men ever excelled him in the rapidity
and truth of his arithmetical operations." Godwin says
further: " I was perhaps the only one of his scholars that
ever loved him;" and this is likely enough from the
account given of the master, and of the conduct of his




410


WTILLIAMI GOD WIN.


school. All, however, that was taught was well taught,
and Godwin was an eager and ambitious pupil.
At this school was also "a poor lad of the village, whose
name was Steele," who seemed to Godwin a proper subject
on whom to exercise his old practice of preaching. He
talked to Steele "of sin and damnation, and drew tears
from his eyes." He privily got possession of the key of
the meeting-house, that he might preach to and pray over
Steele from his father's pulpit. His whole soul was vexed
within him, because he thought that very few of his schoolfellows discovered any tokens of God's grace.
In the following year Mrs Sothren took the boy on a
tour to Norwich, Lynn, and Wisbeach; and as at Wisbeach
it was the time of the races, he was then, for the only time
in his life, a spectator of that amusement, to which he
"attended with great interest and passion." At Norwich
he saw the play of Venice Preserved; and it is a curious
instance of the changeableness and inconsistency that there
is in the repudiation of amusements by those who are very
strict in their religious views, that he was taken to the
theatre by Mrs Sothren, with the full consent of his parents.
In September 1767 he was sent to Norwich, to become the
solitary pupil of Mr Samuel Newton, minister of the Independent congregation in that city. Of this man he gives a
most unpleasant picture, physically and intellectually. But
this is evidently the impression of his riper manhood, not of
his childhood. For at the time Newton had a great influence over him, and of a kind scarcely possible but where
sympathy exists. It is probable that he only grew to detest
Newton when he grew to detest Newton's creed. This was
"drawn from the writings of Sandeman, a celebrated north
country apostle, who, after Calvin had damned ninety-nine
in a hundred of mankind, has contrived a scheme for damn



MR SAMB UEL NE WTON.


T I


ing ninety-nine in a hundred of the followers of Calvin."
Of himself at this time he writes as follows, and there is no
reason to doubt the accuracy of his self-introspection:"It was scarcely possible for any preceptor to have a pupil more
penetrated with curiosity and a thirst after knowledge than I was
when I came under the roof of this man. All my amusements
were sedentary; I had scarcely any pleasure but in reading; by
my own consent, I should sometimes not so much have gone into
the streets for weeks together. It may well be supposed that my
vocation to literature was decisive, when not even the treatment I
now received could alter it. Add to this principle of curiosity a
trembling sensibility and an insatiable ambition, a sentiment that
panted with indescribable anxiety for the stimulus of approbation.
The love of approbation and esteem, indeed, that pervaded my
mind was a nice and delicate feeling, that found no gratification
in coarse applause, and that proudly enveloped itself in the consciousness of its worth, when treated with injustice."
But his new tutor did not think so highly of the abilities
which thus panted for recognition as Mrs Sothren and
Akers had done. After the fashion of those days, Newton
speedily proceeded to birch his self-complacent pupil, prefacing the application of the rod by a long exhortation, full
of facetious metaphor.
"To this discourse," says Godwin, "I listened at first with
astonishment, and afterwards with incredulity.  It had never
occurred to me as possible that my person, which hitherto had
been treated by most of my acquaintances, and particularly by Mrs
Sothren and Mr Akers, who had principally engaged my attention,
as something extraordinary and sacred, could suffer such ignominious violation. The idea had something in it as abrupt as a fall
from heaven to earth. I had regarded this engine as the appropriate lot of the very refuse of the scholastic train."
In the spring of the following year, 1768, he had an




12


TVILLI4AM3f GOD WIN.


-attack of the smallpox, having on religious grounds steadily
refused to allow himself to be inoculated; and during his
illness he was conscious of entire " detachment" from life,
and willingness to die. After his recovery, he found that
his tutor's son had much difficulty and bashfulness in praying before others, and he therefore used to take the lad to
his own room, and there pray with him. He remained with
Mr Newton three years, and finally left him in I771. There
had been in this time one short break, during which he
went back to Hindolveston, but returned to Newton at his
own request.  It is plain, therefore, that his dislike of his
tutor could not have been great, while his own attainments
in after-life speak well for the teaching he had received.
Godwin also had gained much intellectually from having
been allowed-or at least not checked in-the free range
of his tutor's library.
"The books I read here," he says, " with the greatest transport
were the early volumes of the English translation of the Ancient
History of Rollin. Few bosoms ever beat with greater ardour than
mine did while perusing the story of the grand struggle of the
Greeks for independence against the assaults of the Persian
despot; and this scene awakened a passion in my soul which will
never cease but with life."
Another extract, and it is one displaying that inordinate
vanity which was traceable through life, amid much that
was loveable, will close this period of mere boyhood.
"When I was about thirteen or fourteen years of age I went by
myself one day at the period of the assizes to the Sessions House.
Having gone early, I had my choice of a seat, and placed myself
immediately next the bench. The judge was Lord Chief-Justice
De Grey, afterwards Baron Walsingham. As I stayed some hours,
I at one time relieved my posture by leaning my elbow on the
corer of the cushion placed before his lordship. On some occa



PRO7ECTED A UTOBIOGRCAPHIKI


13


sion, probably When he was going to address the jury, he laid his
hand gently on my elbow and removed it. On this action I
recollect having silently remarked, if his lordship knew what the
lad beside him will perhaps one day become I am not sure that he
would have removed my elbow."
Thus ends the fragment of detailed autobiography.  In
I805 Godwin wrote of this MS.,-" I shall probably never
complete it. My feelings on the subject are not what they
were. I sat down with the intention of being nearly as
explicit as Rousseau in the composition of his Confessions."
But finding that so minute a portrait would not be after all
the truest which could be written, he hints that posterity
will judge him by his works. There remain, however, many
short notes of the years I772-I795, but scarcely more than
a summary of the leading events. Such as they are, these
notes are almost the only authority for that portion of the
life. The greater part of his correspondence with his relatives after he left his father's house was destroyed by his
mother shortly before her death, and there were but few
letters of interest addressed to him during the period in.
which he was young and unknown.
Enough has been said to show the school in which the
religious opinions of the growing lad were formed. In politics his father was a moderate whig, but in that household
politics were rarely discussed. Of Mr Newton his pupil
says again"Ductility is a leading feature of my mind.  I was his
single pupil, and his sentiments speedily became mine.  He
was rather an intemperate Wilkite, but first and principally
he was a disciple of the supra-Calvinistic opinions of Robert
Sandeman."
Such was the boy, who made an early start in life, at




14


WI.LLIAM GOD WIN


the age of fifteen, by accepting the post of usher in the
school of his old master, Mr Robert Akers of Hindolveston.
He continued in this occupation during the whole of the
year 1772, and probably during the spring of the following
year.  He read during this period the whole of Shakspere, "and planned an epic poem of Brute."  Mr Godwin,
senior, died on November 12, 1772, but the event did not
cause his son any profound emotion. The circumstances
in which the family were left were slender, but some small
sum seems to have been available for the completion of
William's education. In April I773 he came to London
with his mother, intending to enter Homerton Academy,
but was rejected when examined by Mr Stafford and Mr
Noah Hill, at the instance of the former, on suspicion of
Sandemanianism. After spending the summer in Kent
with his mother's relatives, he entered Hoxton College as
a student in September, the authorities being either more
tolerant than those at Homerton, or having a less keen
scent for possible heresy. He planned during that summer
"two tragedies, one on the subject of Iphigenia in Aulis,
and the other of the death of Caesar, and constructed a harmony of the evangelists from the gospels themselves, without the assistance of any commentators." He procured
also from the circulating library at Rochester the works-of
Robert Sandeman, that he might compare them with his
previous habits of thinking, and know whereof he was
accused.
He remained five years at Hoxton, and in long after
days wrote as follows his. recollections of that period:"During my academical life, and from this time forward, I was
indefatigable in my search after truth. I read all the authors of
greatest repute, for and against the Trinity, original sin, and the
most disputed doctrines, but I was not yet of an understanding




HOXTONA COLLEGE.


15


sufficiently ripe for impartial decision, and all my inquiries terminated in Calvinism. I was famous in our college for calm and
impassionate discussion; for one whole summer I rose at five and
went to bed at midnight, that I might have sufficient time for
theology and metaphysics. I formed during this period, from
reading on all sides, a creed upon materialism and immaterialism,
liberty and necessity, in which no subsequent improvement of my
understanding has been able to produce any variation. I was remarked by my fellow-collegians for the intrepidity of my opinions
and the tranquil fearlessness of my temper."
Godwin's tutor at Hoxton was Dr Kippis, editor of
"Biographia Britannica," &c., &c., who died in I795; he
was very sincerely his friend, did much for him when starting
afterwards in literary life, and found him also a fairly lucrative appointment as a private tutor. The then head of the
college was Dr Rees, edito.rof "Chambers's and Rees's
Cyclopaedia," who died in I825, and with him Godwin held a
very curious and interesting conversation on the eternity of
hell torment, in which the pupil, one day to become so heretical, was, more orthodox than his teacher. In answer to
Godwin's complacent quotation of the stock texts on the
matter"The doctor argued that in these passages an infinite duration
was put merely for one that was unlimited, and that ' for ages of
ages' meant only for a very long time. The doctor further maintained that this ambiguous and obscure style was very wisely kept
up in the New Testament, since less than the absolute belief in
eternal suffering would never retain the lower orders of the community in the path of duty. For himself he was perfectly. convinced that such a punishment was never the meaning of Jesus
Christ, but he should think it censurable in himself to promulgate
the true sense of the New Testament on this point, to the grosser
mass of mankind, who if they were acquainted with it would infallibly launch out into the most enormous crimes." Godwin




W7ILLIAMI GOD WII'.


could not agree with him in this, and "was persuaded there was
more virtue and less crime in the best ages of Greece and Rome
than in any period of the Christian dispensation, and was therefore satisfied that the doctrine of eternal punishment in hell was
not absolutely required to prevent men from running out into
excesses that would be destructive of the social system."
Of the general tone of the College, Godwin says"The prevailing opinions were those of Arminius and Arius,
but I endured the fiery trial, and came out in my twenty-third
year as pure a Sandemanian as I had gone in; this, however,
without any intercourse with the congregation in London distinguished by the name of that leader. A little time before the
period of my entering the Dissenting College at Hoxton, I had
adopted principles of toryism in government, by which I was no
less distinguished from my fellow-students than by-my principles
of religion. I had, however, no sooner gone out into the world
than my sentiments on both these points began to give way; my
toryism- did not survive above a year, and between my twentythird and my twenty-fifth year my religious creed insensibly degenerated on the heads of the Trinity, eternal torments, and some
others."
In 1777 while spending his last summer vacation in his
native county, Godwin preached at Yarmouth every
Sunday morning, and at Lowestoft in the afternoon. In
the next.year after leaving the College and recovering from
a severe attack of "putrid fever," he preached, unsuccessfully, as a candidate at Christchurch in Hampshire, and
settled at Ware in Hertfordshire as a minister. If, however,
it be necessary to have a firm faith before teaching others,
as then, for the most part, men would have held, Godwin's
fitness for his post, which however he accepted in all
seriousness and devotion, may be doubted. He -writes




JOSEPH FA WCE T.


17


" In the last year of my academical life I entered into a curious
paper war with my fellow student Mr Richard Evans, an excellent
mathematician, and a man of very clear understanding. The
subject, the being of a God. Our papers were, I believe, seen by
no person but ourselves. I took the negative side, in this instance,
as always, with great sincerity, hoping that my friend might enable
me to remove the difficulties I apprehended. I did not fully see
my ground as to this radical question, but I had little doubt that
grant the being of a God, both the truth of Christianity, and the
doctrines of Calvinism, followed by infallible inference.
No record is preserved of Godwin's ministry at Ware,
nor are any facts now discoverable, but he was there first
brought in contact with Joseph Fawcet, whose name is
interesting to us as being the first of four persons who at
different periods profoundly impressed Godwin, and influenced his mental development. He says: —
"The four principal oral instructors to whom I feel my mind
indebted for improvement were Joseph Fawcet, Thomas Holcroft, '
George Dyson, and Samuel Taylor Coleridge."
Again:"In my twenty-third year I became acquainted with the Rev.
Joseph Fawcet, a young man of nearly my own age, one of whose
favourite topics was a declamation against the domestic affections,
a principle which admirably coincided with the dogmas of
Jonathan Edwards, whose works I had read a short time before.
Mr Fawcet's modes of thinking made a great impression upon
me, as he was almost the first man I had ever been acquainted
with, who carried with him the semblance of original genius."
Fawcet's very name is now forgotten as well as his
writings, but Godwin was not the only one of his contemporaries who    esteemed  him  highly.  IHazlitt thu3
speaks of him:

I.


B




WILLIAM GOD WIN.


"The late Rev. Joseph Fawcet, author of the 'Art of War,':&c. It was he who delivered the Sunday Evening Lectures at
the Old Jewry, which were so popular about twenty years ago.
He afterwards retired to Hedgegrove in Hertfordshire. It was
here that I became acquainted with him, and passed some of the
pleasantest days of my life. He was the friend of my early youth.
He was the first person of literary eminence whom I had then
known, and the conversations I then had with him on subjects of
taste and philosophy, for his taste was as refined as his powers of
reasoning were profound and subtle, gave me a delight such as I
can never feel again. Of all the persons I have ever known, he
was the most perfectly free from every taint of jealousy or
narrowness. Never did a mean or sinister motive come near his
heart. He was one of the most enthusiastic admirers of the
French Revolution, and I believe that the disappointment of the
hopes he had cherished of the freedom and happiness of mankind, preyed upon his mind, and hastened his death." —ife of
Holcroff, Vol. 2, note to p. 246.
Leaving Ware in August 1779, Godwin resided for four
months "with great economy," at a little lodging      in
Coleman Street.   Here he read reports of the speeches of
Burke and Fox, "to whom from that time he commenced
an ardent attachment, which no change of circumstances or
lapse of time was ever able to shake." In this first residence in London he was still uncertain about his careernot yet detached from a set of opinions which his previous
training had made so habitual, as to be with difficulty
shaken even by his growing liberalism. The next year he
left London again,- and resumed his ministerial work. In
the commencement of the next year, he writes in his
notes:" I went to reside at Stowmarket in Suffolk, in my profession of
a dissenting minister. The only pleasant acquaintance I had




AINISTR Y A T BEA CONSFIELD.


19


here was Mrs Alice Munnings, and her unfortunate son Leonard,
a captain of the Suffolk Militia, and a lively, well bred and
intelligent man. In 178I there came to reside at Stowmarket
Mr Frederic Norman, deeply read in the French philosophers,
and a man of great reflection and acuteness. In April I782 I
quitted Stowmarket, in consequence of a dispute with my hearers
on a question of Church discipline. My faith in Christianity had
been shaken by the books which Mr Norman put into my hands,
and I was therefore pleased in some respects with the breach
which dismissed me. I resided during the rest of the year at a
lodging in Holbom, and by the persuasions of Fawcet and
another friend was prevailed on to try my pen as an author. I
drew up proposals for a periodical series of English Biography,
but having set down first to the Life of Lord Chatham, I found it
grow under my hands to the size of a volume, which I completed
by the end of the year. I spent the first seven months of 1783 at
Beaconsfield, in the way of my original profession."
It appears however from the records of the " Old Meeting
House" at Beaconsfield, now no longer used as such, that
Godwin was only a candidate, and was never formally
appointed as minister. An old man who was still living
forty years ago, "remembered," or thought he remembered,
"that on one Sunday morning there was no service,
because the minister had gone out coursing," but the
tradition is difficult to reconcile with the earlier training
from-which Godwin had not wholly emancipated himself,
andiwith his apparent total indifference to, if not dislike of.
such pursuits at other times.
"I found myself," continue the notes, " troubled in my mind
on the score of the infidel principles I had recently imbibed, but
reading.at Beaconsfield the Institutes of Dr Priestley, Socinianism
appeared to relieve so many of the difficulties I had hitherto
sustained from the Calvinistic theology, that my mind rested in
that theory, to which I remained a sincere adherent till the year




20


WILLIAM GODWIN.


1788. On quitting Beaconsfield in August, I formed the plan of
a school, for which I was offered some pecuniary assistance, and
I actually hired a furnished house for the purpose, at Epsom in
Surrey, and published a pamphlet in recommendation of my plan:
but I never secured a sufficient number of pupils at one time to
induce me to enter upon actual business. This year I may for
the first time be considered as an author by profession. My
'Life of Lord Chatham' was published in the spring. I wrote a
defence of the Rockingham party in their coalition with Lord
North."
This coalition turned out Lord Shelburne, who had become Prime Minister on the death of Lord Rockingham,
made the Duke of Portland Prime Minister in the room of
Lord Shelburne, Fox and Lord North the two Secretaries
of State, in February I783.
"For this Stockdale gave me five guineas; I published my
scheme of the seminary at Epsom; and I composed a pamphlet
entitled the 'Herald of Literature,' which was not published till
the following year. Soon after the period in which I quitted
Beaconsfield, I took lodgings near the New Church in the
Strand,"-St Mary Le Strand, consecrated in I723,-"where I
continued during the whole of the following year.  I," now
"lost the pecuniary assistance which had in some degree smoothed
for me the difficulties of the two preceding years, and enabled
me to publish on my own account the 'Life of Chatham,' the
friend who assisted me going abroad at this period, and leaving
me forty pounds in his debt. My principal employment was now
writing for the 'English Review,' published by Murray in Fleet
Street, at two guineas a sheet, in which employment it was my
utmost hope to gain twenty-four guineas per annum. Mr Murray
had been won to this contract by the offer of the MS. of
the Herald of Literature.' This was probably the busiest period
of my life; in the latter end of 1783 I wrote in ten days a novel
entitled Damon and Delia, for which Hookham gave me five




LITERAR Y WORK'


21


guineas, and a novel in three weeks called 'Italian Letters,'
purchased by Robinson for twenty guineas, and in the first four
months of I784 a novel called 'Imogen, a Pastoral Romance,'
for which Lane gave me ten pounds. Murray published my
' Herald of Literature,' by which I gained nothing, and Cadell
published on the same terms and with the same effect a small
volume of my Sermons.    This volume was dedicated to Dr
Watson, Bishop of Llandaff."  Richard Watson was a friend
but opponent of Gibbon, a liberal and enlightened prelate.
He died in I8I6, aged 79. "Murray also graciously put into my
hands the job of translating from the French MS. the 'Memoirs
of Simon Lord Lovat,' which was not published for several years
after. For this job he gave me twenty guineas, but the style of
the translation was refined and improved in every sentence, almost
in every line, by Mr and Mrs Murray.  Notwithstanding these
resources, for the most part I did not eat my dinner without
previously carrying my watch or my books to the pawnbroker to
enable me to eat."
In the next year, I785, he was appointed by Robinson
the publisher, on the introduction of Dr Kippis, writer of
the historical part of the "New Annual Register," at the
stipend of sixty guineas, "and the contract was sealed by
a dinner in trio between Mr Robertson, Dr Kippis, and
myself at the Crown and Anchor in the Strand."
This tavern was opposite St Clement's Church, on a site
now occupied by shops.
It was about this time that the prefix of Reverend
gradually fell away from his name, and the links were
severed between the old life and the new. For some time
past he had seen but little of his family.   The eldest
brother was settled as a farmer at Wood Dalling in Norfolk,
with whom, or close to whom  Mrs Godwin senior resided.




WILLIrAM GOD WIN.


22


The conduct of their relations did not gratify this lady and
her eldest son, neither did the family letters afford them
pleasure, and they therefore destroyed nearly all the
correspondence which passed in these years. There are
however records of a brother John who settled in London
in " sickness and poverty," of another, Nathaniel, in scarce
better case, who became a sailor and died at sea, of another,
Joseph, who had got into trouble and disgrace, and of a
sister Hannah, who wrote poetry, but could not spell-few
women then could-and who had settled in partnership
with a dressmaker in London. Between her and William
Godwin existed a strong affection which survived their not
infrequent quarrels.
It may well be supposed that so complete a change of
life and views on Godwin's part had given much pain to:the honest, homely folk at Wood Dalling, and to Mrs
Sothren to whom he was once so dear. The first indication
of this is to be found in a letter from her, in answer to a
request for some information in regard to his family, and
with this-for the letters from his mother will find place
hereafter-may close the record of his early life.
Mrs Sothren to William Godwin.
"NORWICH, March 7/h, 1788.
"DEAR COUSIN,-I was indeed much surprised to receive a
letter from you, but on opening it found it to be one of meer curiosity, and what is not in my power to satisfy, as I know not so far
as you, for I never knew my grandfather; he being dead before I
was born, nor have I anything in my possession relating to it
Am very glad your Sister (for I think that a much more indearing
title than Miss G. but suppose 'tis polite, as I know your partiality
for your Sister used to be great, and hope she has not done any



LETTER FROM, MRS SOTHREN.


23


thing to abate it) is to appearance so agreably fixed, sincearly
wish them success.
"Wish Joseph may not hurt you; if report says true he has
been very imprudent  There is an old proverb ' Keep your shop,
and your shop will keep you,' am very sorry for the poor woman
and dear little children. Mary is with your mother.
"You seem to keep out of these troubles. Shure you must
want a companion, cannot think how you live. Since I received
yours am told you have commenced Novel writer, own it gives me
some concern that'you that are so capable of turning your thoughts
to some thing that would have been for the good of mankind
should take that turn.
"Indeed your disposition of maintaining yourself without
troubling your friends is very commendable but it has always
been a profound secret what the productions of your pen were
(to me).
" Young Wilkins seems very happy. Am very sorry for poor
Miss Gay; she is a great favourite of mine, I think her an amiable
young lady.-Yours affectionately,      HAN. SOTHREN.
"P.S.-Hope you will not take it ill what I have wrote, if you
can read it. My pens and ink are so bad I am quite ashamed."
Mrs Sothren became a widow      in I785 and died in
I796.




CHAPTER II.


LITERARY WORXK        1785-1788.
IN 1785 Godwin was fairly started as a literary man in
London, and became gradually known as a useful political
writer on the liberal side. He was a constant contributor
to the Political Herald, of which Dr Gilbert Stuart was
editor, a publication the aim of which is sufficiently described by its title, and which expired at the close of the
following year. Some attempts were made to revive it
under Godwin's own editorship, and Sheridan, as representing Mr Fox's party, had repeated interviews with Godwin on the subject. It was proposed to him that he should
receive a regular stipend from the funds set apart for
political purposes by the adherents to the party of Mr
Fox, but this he declined, resolving to limit his pecuniary
advantages to the fair profits of the pamphlet. He was
at this time, and indeed long afterwards, struggling with
great pecuniary difficulties, having no fixed income whatever, with the payment for one pupil sent him by Dr
Kippis, as the only addition to the small and precarious
sum obtained by his fugitive writings.
Through Murray he became known to many literary
men, who were accustomed to meet at Murray's, and at the
house of Mr Robinson the publisher in Paternoster Row,
while through Sheridan he made the acquaintance of some
who were already, or were soon to be known in the world




THOMAS HOLCROFT.


25


of politics. At Sheridan's he met at dinner " Mr Canning,
then an Eton schoolboy, just become known to the public
by the paper of the Microcosm, &c., &c. Mr Canning was
very pressing with me for the cultivation of my acquaintance." Sheridan and his circle, finding him not venal, soon
dropped him, but not before he had fairly taken his place
in the best London literary and scientific society. Fawcet,
the dear and chosen friend of a few years back, was not in
London, but his place was soon supplied by Holcroft. This
name is the second among those of the four men who profoundly influenced the tone of his mind. The acquaintance
was made in I786, but it was not till the year I788 that he
writes of himself and Holcroft as "extremely intimate."
The outward facts of Holcroft's life are well known, or may
be read in his life by Hazlitt. The son of a shoemaker,
he had been himself a stable-boy, shoemaker, and actor,
before he became a dramatic author, and, self-educated as
he was, a successful translator of works from French and
German. His home life was far from happy, as will in part
appear in these pages. He died in I809, aged 65. Mrs
Shelley writes of him:" The name of Holcroft at once gives rise -to a crowd of recollections to those who are conversant with the history of the times,
and that particular circle of literary men of which my father was
one. The son of a shoemaker, he rose to eminence through the
energy of his character, and the genius with which nature had
endowed him. To think of Holcroft as his friends remember
him, and to call to mind whence at this day he principally derives
his fame as an author, present a singular contrast. He was a man
of stern and irascible character, and from the moment that he
espoused liberal principles, he carried them to excess. He was
tried for life as a traitor on account of his enthusiasm for the objects
of the French Revolution. He believed that troth must prevail




26


IWILLIAM GOD WINV.


by the force of its own powers, but he advocated what he deemed
truth with vehemence. He warmly asserted that death and disease
existed only through the feebleness of man's mind, that pain also
had no reality. Rectitude and Courage were the gods of his
idolatry, but the defect of his temper rendered him a susceptible
friend. His Comedy,' The Road to Ruin,' will always maintain
its position on the English stage, so long as there are actors who
can fitly represent its leading characters. He was a man of great
industry, unwearied in his efforts to support his family. When
they first became acquainted neither he nor Mr Godwin had yet
imbibed those strong political feelings which afterwards distinguished them. It required the French Revolution to kindle that
ardent love of Political Justice with which both were afterwards,
according to their diverse dispositions, warmed."
Godwin had now entirely severed himself from his former
faith, and he thus writes of the change:"Till I782 I believed in the doctrine of Calvin, that is, that
the majority of mankind were objects of divine condemnation, and
that their punishment would be everlasting. The ' Systeme de la
Nature,' read about the beginning of that year, changed my opinion
and made me a Deist. I afterwards veered to Socinianism, in
which I was confirmed by ' Priestley's Institutes,' in the beginning
of J783. I remember the having entertained doubts in I785,
when I corresponded with Dr Priestley. But I was not a complete unbeliever till 1787."
By "complete unbeliever," however, Godwin must be
understood to mean an infidel to Creeds only, and not an
infidel to God. That he was at any time a "religious"
man may be doubted, if by that term be meant one who
has the emotional nature exercised in regard to a Being
apprehended by faith alone.   Reason, far more than the
affections, guided his actions, and while he sought after




A PRO VISIONAL CREED.


27


One who would satisfy his intellect, he seems to have
never felt the need, and therefore never the power of adoration and self-abasement. That he was not at this time
an infidel in the vulgar sense, is plain from the following
note found among his papers, and dated somewhat after
the above extract. It is one of several of the same kind,
but- seems rather to be the digest qf the whole, and may
be taken as his deliberate answer to the same question as
Gretchen put to Faust, "Believest thou in God?"
" God is a being, who is himself the cause of his own existence.
" His prerogative is to perceive before there was anything to be
perceived. He is the creator of the universe, He operated upon
nothing, and turned it into something.
"He has not impenetrability, yet can act upon matter which is
impenetrable, and moves all things, himself immoveable.
"He produces all things with a word; all his works are equally
easy, and equally instantaneous.
" He is present everywhere, yet has neither parts, figure, nor
divisibility: He is all in all, and all in every part.
" With Him is no variableness, neither before nor after; he iS
the eternal Now.
" He exists through all time, fills all space, possesses all knowledge, yet is perfectly simple and uncompounded; his thought is
but one, His omniscience a single, all-perfect idea.
" He is for ever the same, without change, yet is perpetually
active, beginning, conducting, and ending all the variety of events.
" He desires the happiness of all His creatures, and is averse to
their pain; yet His own felicity is always complete, He neither
approves of their good nor is displeased by their misery.
" I believe in this being, not because I have any proper or
direct knowledge of His existence,
"But, I am at a loss to account for the existence and arrang'ement of the visible universe,
"And, being left in the wide sea of conjecture without clue
from analogy or experience,




28


WILLIAM GOD lW IN.


"I find the conjecture of a God easy, obvious, and irresistible. I perceive my understanding to be so commensurate to His
nature, and His attributes to be so much like what I know and
have observed
" As. instantly to convert mystery into reason, and contradictions
into certainty."
The following note, in a somewhat more pantheistic key,
but still far removed from the no-creed of the " unbeliever;"
was apparently written about the same time:"Religion is among the most beautiful and most natural of all
things; that religion which 'sees God in clouds and hears Him
in the wind,' which endows every object of sense with a living
soul, which finds in the system of nature whatever is holy, mysterious, and venerable, and inspires the bosom with sentiments of
awe and veneration.
"But accursed and detestable is that religion by which the
fancy is hag-rid, and conscience is excited to torment us with
phantoms of guilt, which endows the priest with his pernicious.
empire over the mind, which undermines boldness of opinion and
intrepidity in feeling, which aggravates a thousandfold the inevitable calamity,. death, and haunts us with the fiends and retributory
punishments of a future world."
It is plain that this is not orthodox, and though the
letter of Mrs Sothren's already quoted is the only expression of dissatisfaction on the part of his family to be found
among the papers, there is the draft of a letter from himself
to his mother which is interesting as conveying an apology
for his declension from his mother's view. It is not dated,
but certainly belongs to this time. /
"I am exceedingly sorry that you should suffer yourself to form
so unfavourable an opinion of my sentiments and character as you
express in your last letter. Not that I am anxious so far as relates




RELIGIOUS SENTIMENTS.


29


to myself what opinion may be formed of me by any human /;/      i..
being: I am answerable only to God and conscience. But I am;-'  e.'::
sorry, even without deserving it, to occasion you with the smallest  t
uneasiness.
"You seem to regret my having quitted the character of a dissenting minister. To that I can only say, with the utmost frankness, whatever inference may be drawn from it, that the character
quitted me when I was far from desiring to part with it.
"With respect to my religious sentiments I have the firmest
assurance and tranquillity. I have faithfully endeavoured to improve the faculties and opportunities God has given me, and I am
perfectly easy about the consequences. No man can be sure that
he is not mistaken, but I am sure that if I am so, the best of
beings will forgive my error. If I could ever hope for his approbation, I have now more reason to hope for it than ever. My.
views, I think, were always right, but they are now nobler and more
exalted. I am in every respect, so far as I am able to follow the
dictates of my own mind, perfectly indifferent to all personal gratification. I know of nothing worth the living for but usefulness
and the service of my fellow-creatures. The only object I pursue
is to increase, as far as lies in my power, the quantity of their
knowledge and goodness and happiness. And as I desire everything from God, I hope the situation in which I am now placed
is that in which I am most likely to be useful. Always anxious to
resemble the great Creator, can I be afraid of his displeasure? If'
he has resolved to punish in another world those who are most
sincerely desirous to act properly and uprightly in this, what must
we think of his goodness or his mercy?"
The same calm temperament which enabled him to dispense with much which is often thought of the essence of
religion, seems to have kept him free also from any feeling
which can be called love. Except the one great passion
of his life, and even this was conducted with extreme outward and apparent phlegm, friendship stood to him in the




30


WILLIAM GOD KWIN.


place of passion, as morality was to him in the room of devotion. All the jealousies, misunderstandings, wounded
feelings and the like, which some men experience in their
love affairs, Godwin suffered in his relations with his
friends. Fancied slights were exaggerated; quarrels, expostulations, reconciliations followed quickly on each other,
as though they were true amanntiam irae. And his relations
with women were for the most part the same as those with
men. His friendships were as real with the one sex as
with the other, but they were no more than friendships.
Marriage seemed to him a thing to be arranged, "adjusted,"
as Mr Tennyson says of the loves of vegetables. Hence it
was that when settled in London he suggested to his sister
Hannah that she should choose him a wife. Her choice
fell on the lady whom Mrs Sothren calls "a great favourite
of mine," and thus she recommends her friend:Hannzah Godwinz to Williamn Godwin.
29t 7une '84.
" I send " the letter enclosed " to you by way of introduction to
the only lady upon whom I could fix, since you said you should
like your sister to chuse you a wife. This was one of the thousand things I intended to tell you, that if you had neither fixed
upon any lady yourself, nor sworn to be an old bachelor, I had a
friend whom I thought might in every way meet your approbation,
and that I hoped that if you thought proper to offer your services
they might meet with acceptance, could I but be in London to introduce you. The young lady is in every sense formed to make
one of your disposition really happy. She has a pleasing voice,
with which she accompanies her musical instrument with judgment. She has an easy politeness in her manners, neither free
nor reserved. She is a good housekeeper and a good economist,
and yet of a generous disposition. As to her internal accomplish



A WIFE SUGGESTED.


-3I


ments, I have reason to speak still more highly of them, good
sense without vanity, a penetrating judgment without a disposition
to satire, good nature and humility, with about as much religion
as my William likes, struck me with a 'wish that she was my
William's wife. I have no certain knowledge of her fortune, but
that I leave for you to learn. I only know her father has been
many years engaged in an employment which brings in ~500 or
~600 per ann., and Miss Gay is his only child. Mr Gay is very
much of a gentleman, though one whom you would say savours
too much of Methodism.... I have only mentioned you as my
dearest brother, and added that I wished she were acquainted
with you, to which she answered, ' need I say how much pleasure
I should have in an acquaintance with one who is so high in the
esteem of my dear Godwin.'
"I would not have you mention her to Jack, nor let him know
that I have such friends in town, lest he should impose upon
their kindness, for I know their friendship for me would induce
them to behave respectfully to him, at the same time that I am
sure he would be far from agreeable to them.
"What do you say now, my dear William, to my living with
you? I certainly intend coming to live in London, hiring a couple
of rooms, which, if agreeable to you, I should like to be in the
same house with you, and taking in millinery work.... But
where shall I get a little money to begin with? I shall want ~20,
and I have neither money nor credit. O my dear brother, how I
please myself with the thought of living with you; you will read
to me sometimes when I am at work (will you not?) and instruct
me, and make me a clever girl.
"I am, with all my failings,
Your affectionate Sister,
H. GODWIN.
Godwin answered this effusion, when some months had
passed, by asking the lady's age and opinions, and after
two more months he called upon her. What he wrote to
his sister may be gathered from her reply to him.




32


WILLIA M GOD WIN.


The Same to the Same.
"8bh Feb. 1785.... You have seen Miss Gay. You are not struck with
her, but do not think it impossible for you to like her well enough
to make certain proposals after a time: let me know the results of
your next Interview. I wish to know your sentiments. If you do
not approve of her for a wife, but wish to make her your intimate
friend, trust me she is worth the trouble it may cost you.
Your obliged Friend and Sister,
H. GODWIN.
Godwin appears to have taken no notice of his sister's
rapturous exclamations at the prospect of living with or
near him, and he thought no more of the lady of her choice,
who accordingly, for the matter was discussed in full
family conclave, becomes "poor Miss Gay" in subsequent
letters, as though Godwin had really behaved ill to her.
Although during this period of his life Godwin had no
settled home, and was constantly changing his lodgings, he
yet received a pupil, as has been said, who was apparently
a boarder. The lad's name was Willis Webb, of whom
nothing is now discoverable save what can be found in the
letters which passed between them. He seems to have left
a public school-probably Eton-to become Godwin's
pupil, and to have gone from him to a large private school
at Hitcham,near Eton. Old Hitcham Manor House was one
of those many houses said "to have been visited by Queen
Elizabeth." It was afterwards for a time the residence of
Judge Jeffreys, and about the year I700 that of Dr Freind,
physician to Frederick, Prince of Wales, and afterwards to
Queen Caroline. It then became a school, and the house
was pulled down, though a part still remains as a cottage.




WILLIS WEBB.


33


The grounds which surrounded it are merged in a larger
estate. Thence Willis Webb was to go to one of the Universities, but "the Captain," presumably a step-father, did
not exert himself about this final step, and kept the young
man under tuition longer than the latter thought desirable.
The letters show that Godwin was able to inspire genuine
enthusiasm in the young, in spite of his somewhat formal
manner of writing to his pupil, and they are the first
instance of the way in which he was considered one to
whom the young might resort as to an oracle. They
are interesting also as a picture of school life ninety years
ago. He writes to Godwin from Hitcham House, and, after
giving an account of his school work, continues:Willis Webb to William Godwin.
"October 25, 1787.
"To me, who have enjoyed the liberty of a public school,
and experienced the liberality of private tuition, my present situation is extremely irksome and disagreeable. Confined within a
narrow pale, I survey a beautiful country, which I am forbid to
enter, on the penalty of expulsion from the society. I shudder at
the reflexion that for a juvenile indiscretion, which is overlooked
at a public institution, not considered as a fault in private education-(the merely taking a walk)-one's character is liable to be
blasted by ignominious dismission.
"When, moreover, I consider that most of my contemporaries
have finished their classical career, that mathematical knowledge
can be acquired elsewhere with as much facility as at my present
abode, that my character is hitherto unimpeachable, and by a
timely secession from a place in which it is hourly exposed to
imminent danger, will be secured, I confess I ardently desire to
be admitted at the University, and to leave a society from which
little profit and no pleasure is to be derived.
"Nor am I singular in my opinion that the University would be
C




34


WILLIAM GODWIN.


the most advisable plan for my future education. Several men
of learning and experience, friends of my father (who, by-the-by,
had he lived, intended to have sent me this autumn to Oxford),
concur in recommending the same measure. I am now in my
eighteenth year, an age no longer puerile. My friends wish me
to assume the character of a man; but how is this practicable
whilst they retain me in the shackles of a child?
"Some people are apt to think that these private seminaries are
free from the vices of the age, but give me leave to assure you
they are grossly mistaken. The same vices that flourish at Eton
or Westminster are practised at Hitcham, with this glorious addition
that here deceit is necessary to conceal them; there they gratify
their passions without breach of truth and sincerity.
"Adieu, dear Sir, and believe me,
" Yours sincerely,
"W. WEBB.
"P.S.-The Captain intends to send me to Cambridge next
summer, because I shall then be more discreet.  Q. Are the
passions of a young man of eighteen less strong than those of one
who is seventeen years and six months old? "
Mr Webb at last got to St John's, Cambridge, where
his gratitude to his former tutor and his priggishness suffered no diminution. He writes from St John's College,
[Cambridge]:The Same to the Same.
"Feb. 24, [I788].
"I am very much pleased with the academical life; in the
University one is at liberty to cultivate whatever branch of learning is most congenial to one's disposition. In the University one
has the opportunity of conversation with men of learning and
erudition; we are indulged in every proper liberty, nor have we
the mortification of being subjected to illiberal and fruitless
restrictions.
"For my part, I chiefly cultivate the classics; to the other




THOMAS COOPER.


35


branch I was never much inclined, and though I shall endeavour
to make myself master of it, yet I am sure I shall never derive
much satisfaction from it. I am surprised that in the present
systefm of education so much attention should be paid to a science
which can never produce any real advantage in life to one that is
destined for a learned profession.
"II shall conclude, Dear Sir, with my best thanks for the part
you had in this affair, and remain, believe me,
"Yours sincerely,
" W. WEBB."
It is not, however, probable that Godwin, considerable as.was his success with Willis Webb, had a gift for the
drudgery of tuition.  To write, converse, lecture, and in
these ways exert a great influence over others, and
especially the young, was a wholly different thing from
bearing with the wayward humours, ignorances, and needs
of lads who might not all be as receptive as his first pupil.
In the summer of I788, while lodging for a while at Guildford, in Surrey, he took as a pupil, gratuitously, his kinsman, Thomas Cooper, then twelve years of age, who had
just lost his father in the East Indies. In the midst of hid
own real poverty he was always ready to assist those in
need. Thomas Cooper was a second cousin of Godwin's,
their mothers being first cousins. Mr Cooper, the father,
had entered the service of the East India Company in I770
as a ship's surgeon; he went two voyages, and was afterwards attached to the army in Bombay. About I783 he
was appointed surgeon to the factory at Bauleah in Bengal,
where he died in October I787, just as there appeared a
fair prospect of providing for his family. Some investments made immediately before his death turned out ill
when there was no one to look after them, "his effects at
Bauleah, and all his papers, books, and accounts were lost




36


WILLIAM GODWIN.


in a great storm which swept over Bengal in November of
that year, while the executor was bringing them from
Bauleah for the greater convenience of arranging and
settling his affairs."  Thus it appears that all means of
tracing considerable debts owing to Mr Cooper were lost,
while still further mismanagement in the conduct of the
business reduced the family to indigence. It had been
with them that Godwin passed some part of his Hoxton
vacations, and he now repaid this kindness by taking
charge of the elder orphan boy. The younger boy and a
girl were adopted by other relatives, and Mrs Cooper took
a situation as housekeeper. Mrs Shelley has left an interesting note on the characters of tutor and pupil, the two parties
in this experiment.
"Godwin, who, from the very nature of his opinions, was led
to analyse mind and draw conclusions as to character, had a
sanguine faith in the practicability of improvement, and entertained rigid opinions on the subject of education. Tom Cooper
was a spirited boy, extremely independent and resolute, proud,
wilful, and indolent. Godwin, conscientious to the last degree in
his treatment of everyone, extended his utmost care to the task of
education; but many things rendered him unfit for it. His severity
was confined to words, but these were pointed and humiliating.
His strictness was undeviating; and this was more particularly
the case in early life, when he considered the power of education
to be unlimited in the formation of character, the understanding,
and temper. He took great pains with his kinsman, and devoted
attention and care to his instruction. To further his endeavours,
he kept notes of the occurrences that disturbed their mutual kindness, evidently as appeals to the lad's own feelings and understanding, endeavouring to awake in him a desire of reparation
when he had done wrong, and also of detailing and remarking on
any defects in his own behaviour.- These papers throw light on
his own views of education, and show the conscientious and per



A TUTOR'S DIFFICULTIES.


37


severing nature of his endeavours. At the same time they display
his faults as a teacher. He was too minute in his censures, too
grave and severe in his instruction; at once too far divided from,
his pupil through want of sympathy, and too much on a level from
the temper he put into his lectures."
The following notes in reference to Cooper are taken
almost at random from Godwin's diary during the years
that the boy remained- under his roof.
"Give energy, and mental exertion will always have attraction
enough.
"Not to impute affected ignorance, lequel n'existe pas. Not to
impute dulness, stupidity.
" Suaviter, oh! suaviter, sed fortiter excita mentem.
" It is of no consequence whether a man of genius have learned
either art or science before twenty-five: all that is necessary, or
even desirable, is that his powers should be unfolded, his emulation
roused, and his habits conducted into a right channel.
"He ought to love study, science, improvement.
"Is not his temper embittered by sternness? i.e., over-exactness
in lessons and propensity to play the censor on trivial occasions?
"Do not impute intentional error, lequel n'existe pas.
"It is now again probable that our connection will be permanent.'"-This was written after a severe illness of Cooper's,
during which it was thought probable that there were seeds of
consumption in him which might necessitate his removal to a
warmer climate.-" Let me, then, again aim at gentleness, kindness, cordiality.
"Chide him for rudeness and impertinence to Mr Marshal: am
heard with great sensibility.  The rudeness was public in the
mercer's shop.
" Take from him the translation of Gil Blas, which I yesterday
forbade him to procure.  Geometria lacrimans.  Takes a walk,
being engaged, to the Society's room, Adelphi; comes home too
late; does not choose to apologise; insist."




38


8WILLIAM GOD WIN.


Another quarrel with Mr Marshal, who was at this time
residing with Godwin, led to the following letter of apology,
'which shews the boy's disposition better than a hundred
comments:Thomas Cooper to Yames Marshal.
"Sir,-I am convinced that I was wrong in not immediately
desisting from that from which you desired me to desist; I therefore ask your pardon, and I shall endeavour to make amends for
my misconduct by my future behaviour.
"We have lived, sir, for some time in the same house, and, I
believe, with a certain degree of friendship and good understanding. I am sorry that that friendship and good understanding have
received such a shock as they have done to-day. I was certainly
wrong, as I have already said, in not complying with your desire;
that non-compliance brought on high words, in course of which
you directly called me a liar. You called me so, not by implication;
you said, 'You are a liar.'
"I am glad that I have escaped doing that which your words
naturally excited me to do.                T. COOPER."
The same daily-and indeed hourly-squabbling lasted
so long as Tom Cooper continued with Godwin, till Cooper
was nearly seventeen; and he from time to time relieved
his feelings and refreshed his memory by writing down his
tutor's "pointed and humiliating words." Here is one such
memorandum:"He called me    a foolish wretch  in my presence.
" He said        I had a wicked heart ditto.
"He would        thrash me        ditto. Does he think I
would submit quietly?
"I am called     a Brute          in my absence.
"I am compared to a  zVier        ditto.
"He went out     merely to avoid me ditto.




A PUPIL'S GRIE VANCES.


39


" I am           a Tiger          in my absence.
"I have          a black heart    ditto.
2No justice in it  ditto.
No proper feelings ditto.
"He has no enmity to my person, yet he hates me. I suppose
he means by that that he does not think me very ugly," &c., &c.
This paper he, in a pet, addressed to Mr Godwin, and by
design or accident put it in his way.
The following rough draft of a letter in reply throws
much light on Godwin's character, and the wishes in respect
to his ward by which he was guided:William Godwin to Thomas Cooper.
"A4ril 1I9, 1790.
"MY DEAR BoY.-I am more pleased than displeased with the
paper I have just seen. It discovers a degree of sensibility that
may be of the greatest use to you, though I will endeavour to convince you that it is wrongly applied. I was in hopes that it was
written on purpose for me to see; for I love confidence, and there
are some things that perhaps you could scarcely say to me by word of
mouth. I have always endeavoured to persuade you to confidence,
because you have not a friend upon earth that is more ardently
desirous of your welfare than I, and you have not a friend so
capable of advising and guiding you to what is most to your
interest.
"This confidence would have been of use to you in what has
lately passed; and its continuance would be of use to you in all
your future life. If I had seen this paper before last Tuesday,
what passed on that day would not have happened. But I am
closely engaged in observing what passes through your mind, and
I observed a sulkiness and obstinacy growing up in it. You said
to yourself, 'When I behave ill, I am only reprimanded; and I do
not mind that.' Thus when I have been endeavouring, in strong
language, to point out your errors, and lead you to amend them,




40


WILLIAM GODWIN.


you have been employed with all your might in counteracting the
impression I sought to make.
"There is in this paper a degree of sensibility-that has great
merit. The love of independency and dislike of unjust treatment
is the source of a thousand virtues. If while you are necessarily
dependent on me I treat you with heaviness and unkindness, it is
natural you should have a painful feeling of it.
" But harshness and unkindness are relative. The appearance
of them may be the fruits of the greatest kindness. In fact, can
my conduct towards you spring from any but an ardent desire to
be of service to you? I am poor, and with considerable labour
maintain my little family; yet I am willing to spend my money
upon your wants and pleasures. My time is of the utmost value
to me, yet I bestow a large portion of it upon your improvement.
" Supposing I should be mistaken in any part of my conduct
towards you, can it spring from anything but motives of kindness?  I ask for your confidence, because without it I am persuaded that I cannot do you half the good I could wish. It is
not an idle curiosity. I care nothing about myself in this business.
If I can contribute to make you virtuous and respectable hereafter, I do not care whether I then possess your friendship, I am
contented you should hate me. I desire no gratitude, and no
return of favours, I only wish to do you good.  W. GODWIN."
The few letters which remain from Mrs Cooper to her
son and to Godwin during this period are most touching.
They present a sad picture of broken health, of humbled
pride, of habits of intemperance resulting in part from her
misery, against which the struggles were scarcely effectual,
but there is no good gained by dissecting, as it were, a
broken heart. What is here said may serve to account still
further for the boy's proud, sensitive nature, and indeed to
enhance the extreme kindness and forbearance of Godwin,
though his judgment may sometimes have been in fault.




STROLLING PLA YERS.


4I


At the advice apparently of Holcroft, with the encouragement of Cook the actor, and Godwin's full approval,
Tom Cooper determined to devote himself to the stage, but
his earlier efforts met with scant success. The following
letters record his impressions of John Kemble and Mrs
Siddons, and his endeavours to gain a permanent stage
engagement.    They are all the remaining    documents
respecting him connected with our present period:Thomas Cooper to William Godwin.
"EDINBURGH, Thursday, yuly 27, 1792.
"I arrived here last night at nine, in high health and spirits, but
my spirits were damped when upon my arrival I could get no bed
nor lodging either at Edinburgh or Leith, on account of the races,
which will end on Saturday. I went to Mr Kemble's this morning, at eleven, and he told me that at one he would hear me go
through the character of Douglas. At one I went, but he left
word (with his compliments) that he was obliged to go to Leith.
To-monrow morning at twelve I am to rehearse with Mrs Siddons,
and on Monday night am to make my first appearance in the
character of Douglas. I am just returned to the inn from my
second visit to Mr Kemble, to whom I went to know if I might
not go to the play to-night. I am going, and Mrs Siddons plays
Jane Shore. To-morrow the Road to Ruin is acted (not for the
first time), to give some rest to Mrs S., who has acted several
nights running. You will receive this Monday morning, and may
expect another on Thursday or Friday, and so, hoping you will
excuse bad writing on account of haste, I remain, yours everlastingly,                                 T. COOPER.
"Friday, two o'clock.-'Sdeath, I'm sped! I have just rehearsed Douglas with the other actors before Mr Kemble. When
I had done he walked aside with me, and told me he was sorry to
say that he could not trust me with the character. He then made
his individual objections. He said that in two descriptive speeches




42


WILLIAM GODWIAN.


I had a great deal too much passion, especially in the last; and
that in the scene with Glenalvon the audience would laugh at me.
"I asked him if he did not think Douglas was very angry; he
answered, Certainly, but that he was angry with good manners,
and that he must not vex Mrs Siddons (she was not present); and,
in short, he thought I was really too young to act a character of
such importance, but that he would see about some other characters. Then, having parted, he said that if I would come to him
next morning to breakfast, he would see if we could not manage
Douglas by reading it together. Perhaps Mrs Siddons will be
there, and I shall probably please her better, if she gives me a
hearing, for I am certain I rehearsed as well as ever I did to Mr
H. I have an infallible rule to judge by-the recollection of my
own feelings. I should be glad to hear from you, if possible, by
return of post. Direct to me at Mrs M'Lelland's, opposite the
general entry, Potterrow St., Edinburgh. Nothing less will answer
the purpose, for reasons which I have not room to explain."
The Same to the Same.
"August, 1792.
"My courage is as great as you could wish, considering that 1
stand upon a shaking foundation. Every time Mr Kemble sees
me, I perceive, or think I perceive, a kind of discontent, arising
from want of determination in his countenance. I do not keep
company with any of the actors, except in the green room.
" I wish when you have room in any letter that you would give
me some news. I have not heard any of Mr Pavie and France's
proceedings since I left London.  Let me know of mother's
health, &c., soon. Is A. Dyson gone to France? T. COOPER."
" Monday.-The above was written on Saturday, since which
something of importance has occurred. I went this morning into
the pay-room to receive my money, and having got it, asked Mr
Kemble's advice relative to my manner of travelling to London,
whither we remove in the middle of this week. ' Why, really, Mr
Cooper, I think the best thing you can do is to go back to Lon



K7. EMBLE A ND MRS SIDDONS.


43


don.' I told him that I believed if he would give me a hearing in
Lothario I could please him. He said I was not at all fit to play
it. Then he began to talk in a hesitating way about my being of
no use on account of my being inexperienced in stage matters. I
said that if that were true in every instance plays would live as
long as, and no longer than actors at present existing should live.
In short, I argued the case a little with him, told him that I had
learned the characters in London. He then said that he had a
great respect for Mr Holcroft, and must endeavour to bring me
forward little by little.
" To-night I am one of Mrs Siddons's train (dumb as usual) in
the Mourning Bride. On Wednesday I am to be the second
witch in Macbeth. Mr Kemble told me that if he had thought
of it in time, I should have played Malcolm, and desired me to
learn it. On Thursday I believe I shall begin my march to Lancaster, arriving there Sunday night. I shall stay there a week, and
then for Sheffield."
The Same to the Same.
" NEWCASTLE, Aug. II, I792.
"I did leave such directions at Edinburgh as answered the purpose of bringing your letter immediately to hand, which I think it
was most probable I should do, as I had begged you to write by
return of post.  I think your observation relative to my being
too loud in rehearsal was the true cause of Mr Kemble's rejection
of my Douglas: but as you say, that belief is of little consequence
(except, indeed, that it will be a warning to my future conduct),
since I have had no second hearing, and I am afraid shall not
have, for Mrs Siddons, on account of her health, is unwilling to
play any characters that require her greatest exertion. She has
already played Jane Shore, Desdemona, to-night Mrs Beverley,
for the last time but two, one of the two is to be Zara, of the
other I am ignorant: so that you perceive there is very little
chance for me. I have learned since that it is to be Lady
Macbeth.
"I am, as you say, at a loss for a subject, the strangeness of




44


44WILLIA M   GOD W/IN.


which will vanish when you consider that I am deprived of the
characters in which I expected to shine: that I am obliged to
sit down with a black gown over my shoulders as a dumb
senator (which I have done twice in the plays of Shylock and
Othello! ) and hear Mr Kemble hold forth with the most impetuous rant, with sudden, ill-timed, unmeaning risings and fallings of voice, to astonish the vulgar, and confound the wise by
not articulating a single syllable; and to hear Mr Woods repeat
his words in one dull, heavy, monotonous sound. This circumstance is so remarkable in Woods, that having repeated a part of
Lord Hastings' speech with tolerable propriety, and having made
a pause introducing a totally different feeling and passion, and by
his pause, and the length of it, rousing every individual to the
highest pitch of eagerness -and expectation, he begins to speak,
and on the instant destroys all pleasure by the repetition of the
very same sound. I uttered, at the very first syllable, an involuntary groan (this was at the first time of my seeing him), and a
dirty scene-shifter, cursing him, expressed his dissatisfaction in a
very characteristically awkward manner. Woods speaks with a
remarkably graceful action and easy deportment. Then to perceive a number of dull fools who scarcely even pretend to know
their right hands from their left, fill up the other characters, without my being considered worthy to-utter a syllable; your astonishment, I say, must vanish when you consider these things, for it is
natural that a mind reflecting on them should withdraw itself to
talk of the height of steeples, the length of streets, the nature of
the soil, &c., &c.
" Mr Woods was to have played Glenalvon, but was obliged to
undertake Douglas, which he had never played before; in consequence of which a Mr Sparkes took his Glenalvon. My reception
was such as I could wish: the actors are all very civil, and the
higher are not distant and proud. Mr Bell, and others of some
consequence, give me advice, in general insignificant enough, but
tolerably good of its kind. You need be under no apprehension
concerning money, for I get a guinea every Monday."




TOM COOPER AS MALCOLM.


45


The Same to the Same.
"NEWCASTLE, Aug. i6, 1792.
"The die is cast, and when, having tottered some time, I thought
myself firm, at that instant the fate was reversed, and I fell headlong without hopes of recovery. I will now explain my meaning,
and I am afraid that the explanation will be- more serious than
you may expect from this introduction. I told you in my last of
the doubtful manner of talking of Mr Kemble, and at last of his
saying that he would keep me, and endeavour to bring me forward, on account of his respect for Mr Holcroft. Irresolute
blockhead! he has again altered his mind. Now he has got the
shadow of a reason for his final determination, to which, although
one of the most irresolute, I believe he will adhere; but observe,
although I call it the shadow of a reason, I do not mean to say
that I was without blame. He desired me to study Malcolm
against the next time it was acted. But the next morning I told
him that I would undertake it for that time, as I had two before
me: he consented. I went through the part very well, and tolerably perfectly, till I came within two lines of the end of the play
(I speak the last speech), and there I wanted the word. The
noise behind scenes, the play being nearly over, prevented my
hearing the prompter, and in an instant some people at the back
of the gallery, as I guessed, began to hiss, and immediately everybody else began to clap, which lasted for a minute, and as we were
so near the end it was not advisable to wait the conclusion of the
bustle to say the few words that remained.  The trumpets
sounded, and the curtain fell. My blame consisted in want of
courage, or recollection, in not skipping to the next line the very
instant they began to hiss, and it was impossible to catch the
word. Mr Kemble made this his handle, declared I was totally
unfit for the profession, and that I had not one single requisite for
an actor, and in fine, he said, 'As a friend, I advise you to return
to London. I cannot keep you.' I told him that I would undertake anything, however low, if I was not qualified for higher, and
in proportion to my little utility would be willing to receive little.




46


WILLIAM GOD WIN.


I told him I should be willing to take the salary of Mr Charteris,
junr. (a foolish fellow about my age), and he certainly could not
deny that I should be of equal, if not more utility than him. He
could not deny it, but he did not want a person of that description
-that Mr Ch. was going to leave. I thought I had submitted
already too much for honesty, and therefore would -submit no
further. I asked if that was his reason for dismissing him. This
question was a home-thrust at his own equivocation. He said,
'he had no business to account to me for his motives.' I answered ironically, begging his pardon that it was an improper
question,  I believe he understood me literally.  I have too
much dependence on your sense of justice to think that you will
blame me for not stooping to his pride any further than honesty
would justify, and altering my manner when I perceived his injustice, which I did with moderation, as appears from his not even
understanding my irony (which perhaps you do not, for from hurry
I'm afraid I am not very intelligible). I ought to observe, in addition, that Mr Charteris goes away by his own choice with a number
of other actors from Mr Kemble's company, who are going to
stroll as a sharing company. I have been endeavouring to get
admission into it, but have not succeeded, and I suppose shall
not. The most disagreeable part of my most disagreeable situation, is that I am afraid I must determine on something without
waiting for advice. I write, however. If you can suggest any
means by which in London I can earn IOS. 6d. per week, at the
expense even of four or five hours a day. ios. 6d. is sufficient to
live on. Write... I shall presently be left alone here. It is
now Thursday. They play here for the last time on Friday.
T. COOPER."
Mr James Marshal, to whom was addressed Tom
Cooper's curious letter quoted above, was a friend who for
some time shared Godwin's house, and each would seem to
have aided the other when in need, struggling against such
difficulties as only those can know whose daily bread




7JAMES MARSHAL.


47


depends upon their daily writings. Mrs Shelley speaks of
him with affectionate enthusiasm as follows:"There was another man, a fellow student, and an aspirant to
the honours of literature. The booksellers of London in his day
knew him well, and many a contemporary author, fallen on evil
days, many a widow and orphan had cause to remember the
benevolent disposition, the strenuous exertions, the kind and
intelligent countenance of James Marshal. His talents not permitting a higher range, he became a translator and index maker,
a literary jobber. In a thousand ways he was useful to Godwin,
who, sensitive, proud, and shy, whose powers of persuasion lay in
the force of his reasoning, often found the more sociable and
insinuating manners of his friend of use in transacting matters of
business with editors and publishers. They often shared their
last shilling together, and the success of any of his friend's plans
was hailed by Marshal as a glorious triumph. Godwin, whose
temper was quick, and, from an earnest sense of being in the
right, somewhat despotic on occasions, assumed a good deal of
superiority and some authority. Marshal sometimes submitted,
sometimes rebelled, but they were always reconciled at last, and
the good-humoured friend was always at hand to assist to the
utmost Godwin's more intellectual exertions in copying, or in
walking from one end of town to the other."
He had acted as amanuensis to Godwin at an earlier
date, but having got into considerable difficulties, went
to the West Indies to seek his fortune.      Not having
found it, he soon came back again to work for, and quarrel
with Godwin once more.
Another man of very different stamp was much with
Godwin in those years. George Dyson was a friend of
Thomas Cooper. He was a young man whose abilities
promised much, and whose ardour for literature and desire




48


W;ILLIAM GOD WIN.


to do right seemed to give assurance that such promise
would be realised. Unfortunately violent passions and a
vehement temper ruined these hopes.    Godwin spared
neither remonstrance nor censure. to keep him straight, and
though these were sometimes received with remorseful
confessions of their justice, sometimes with bitter resentment, they did not in the end avail. In various disputes
which arose between Cooper and Dyson, Godwin seems to
have taken, on the whole, Dyson's part; but in the end
the breach between these old friends became too wide for
healing, and Dyson's name only appears in these pages to
give occasion for the touching lines which Godwin addressed to him, later indeed than this date, but as the
conclusion of many a fierce paper war.
William Godwin to George Dyson.
"I hope and still strongly incline to believe that I shall one
day see you, complete in talent, and free from every stain of those
vices which I have always -suspected, and now vehemently disapprove in you. You have been one of my prime favourites, and
whatever may be the vicissitudes of your character, the deviousness of your conduct, or the fermentation of your uncontrollable
passions, they will all be watched by me with affectionate anxiety.
You may grieve me, but you cannot inspire me with anger.
"W. GODWIN.
" F iday Evening. "
With all his faults, however, Dyson must have been a
very remarkable man. He is the third of those of whom
Godwin speaks as being "the four oral instructors" to
whom he felt his "mind indebted for improvement," thus
ranking  him   with Fawcet, Holcroft, and   Coleridge,
although he was so much younger than himself, and




QUARRELS OF FRIENDS.


49


standing in so evident need of fatherly counsel and
control.
We have seen already that in these years Godwin had
become "extremely intimate" with Holcroft.     It would
seem to have been a characteristic of the literary men of
those days that the most furious verbal onslaughts on each
other brought no real diminution of friendship. Godwin
and his friends were typical examples of this. The first of
the following notes, which commences the correspondence
between Holcroft and himself, is undated, but it would
seem to have been written immediately before the other,
and they appear to refer to one and the same engagement.
Thomas Ho/croft to William Godwin.
"I will certainly not fail you, God willing, on Tuesday. Sentimental hypocrisy you know I treat nearly the same as other
hypocrisy, therefore I think you will not blame me for telling you
we were yesterday, as I told you we should be, driven, &c. But
I know you-what is who can resist? Had I but the power to
remove difficulties from all of us-oh, there would be rare doings 1
For heaven's sake do not torment yourself; times and seasons
have strange variations, and who knows that the sun will never
shine.                                   T. HOLCROFT."
The Same to the Same.
"SIR,-I write to inform you that instead of seeing you at
dinner to-morrow I desire never to see you more, being determined never to have any further intercourse with you of any kind.
T. HOLCROFT.
"Feb. 28, 1785."
"I shall behave as becomes an honest and honourable man
who remembers not only what is due to others, but himself.


I.


D




So


WILLIAM GOD WIN.


There are indelible irrevocable injuries that will not endure to be
mentioned. Such is the one you have committed on the man
who would have died to serve you."
The estrangement happily did not last long, but no
further letters are preserved till the summer of 1788, when
Godwin was staying at Guildford, and was glad to receive
news from Holcroft in London.
The vacancy for the City of Westminster, the main subject of the following letters, was occasioned by the appointment of Lord Hood, the sitting member, to be a Lord of
the Admiralty. He, of course, offered himself for re-election,
and was opposed by Lord John Townshend, in the liberal
interest. The poll was kept open from Friday, July I8th,
till Monday, August 4th, on which day Lord John Townshend was elected by a majority of 823. The excitement
during the election was very great, and the compliments
bandied on both sides unusual, even for the license of the
day. That a lawyer was thrown out of the window of Lord
Hood's committee room into a night-cart, was a specimen
of the amenities of parties.  "This," mildly says the
Public Advertiser, which supported Lord Hood, "is a
species of outrage not easily to be justified in a civilized
community. No subjects have a right to take the law into
their own hands."
Thomas Holcroft to William Godzvin.
"LONDON, Jidy 24/h, 1788.
" DEAR SIR,-I am greatly obliged by your kind attention, but
Trenck-' The Life of Baron F. von der Trenck,' translated from
the German by T. Holcroft-" I find, must not go to press yet;
there are 250 copies overlooked, so that when you return to town
it will be time enough to marginate-yes, marginate. It needs




THE WESTMINSTER ELECTION.


5S


little philosophy to prove that if no man had ever made innovations, we should all have been dumb.
" The tide is turned, instead of Townshend. The whole Town,
great and small, old and young, the little vulgar and the great,
seem all to be bawling, 'Hood for ever!' 'The beast with two
horns (blue and orange) appears to have pushed westward and
northward and southward, till behold an he-goat came from the
West.' Despatches from Cheltenham, Pitt and Treasury runners,
canvassing, Military interference, the potent Magistrate Sir Sampson Wright collared by Sheridan, Bayonets pointed at patriot
throats, James Parry, Esq., become a leader from the breakfastinghouses in company with Lord William Russell, &c. Oh, here is
the devil to pay! A mad world, my masters! Women murdered,
Men with their skulls fractured, sailors with broken arms, Bullies
committed, Freedom maintained by battle-array, soldiers polling
by hundreds and sent to the house of correction by (oh! no, I had
forgotten-bailed by their officers, who commanded them to present, and if occasion were to fire), the Foxites disagreeing and
disunited, Iiberty Hall in an Uproar, Pitt and prerogative triumphant, &c., &c., &c. For I am quite out of breath. Observe,
however, I will not vouch for the truth of a single syllable of all
this; but I will cite you most grave and respectable authorities,
viz., Herald and Post. This, however, you may, if so it you shall
please, affirm from me, sir, namely, that scandal (and, I believe,
falsehood), pitiful, mean, mutual scandal, never was more plentifully dispersed; and that electioneering is a trade so despicably
degrading, so eternally incompatible with moral and mental
dignity, that I can scarcely believe a truly great mind capable of
the dirty drudgery of such vice. I am at least certain no mind is
great while thus employed. It is the periodical reign of the evil
nature or Demon. A most paltry apology, but the best I can
make.
" Since writing the above, having the advantage of an exquisitely
dizzy headache, I strolled, in company with this delightful associate, to the hustings, and thence into Westminster.  "Fore
heaven, they are all in a tune.' I must indeed except three




52


WILLIAM GOD WIVN.


unities, whom in my traverse sailing progress I encountered
between the Garden and the Horse Guards, i.e., a Barber's boy,
a Lamplighter's Do., and a young Chimneysweeper, who all had
the singularity to wear ' Toiownshendfor ever' pinned in front No:
two of them were in Hedge Lane. One thing amazes me: the walls
abound in squibs and pasquinades, many of them keen and excellently adapted to the capacity of their serene worships the worthy
Electors of Westminster, all for Lord Hood, and no sign of any
such in behalf of Townshend. This is the very reverse of what
might have been expected. 'Tis plain the Hoodites have been
most remarkably active, and I suspect the adverse party has been
very foolishly lulled to sleep by Mrs Security. To afford you
some small comfort, however, let me tell you an active Foxite has
laid io Guineas to five that Townshend is ioo ahead at the poll,
and affirms that he shall himself go up to the Hustings to-morrow
(Friday) at the head of 400 voters. In the meantime the state of
the poll yesterday was"July 23d.-Hood,       2892
Townshend, 2741
Majority,   151
and according to the account I have just received, for I sent expressly to afford you as much of that information which your aunt
Abigail desires as possible"July 24th, 5 P.M.-Hood,      3380
Townshend, 3258
Majority,    122
"The Lord knows when I wrote so long a letter before, or
when I shall again.-I am, dear sir, very sincerely,
"T. HOLCROFT."
The Same to the Same.
"LONDON, August 4th, 1788.
"As I know, Dear Sir, you interest yourself in the present
desperate (I had almost said despicable) contest, I take it for




THE WESTMINSTER ELECTION.


53


granted you will be glad to hear that your favourite, Lord John
Townshend, is elected. I have sent to know the exact state of
the poll, but it was impossible to obtain it with certainty. I hear
the balance is 823 in favour of Lord John. The universal cry of
the Hood party at present is bad votes and Parliamentary scrutiny.
I imagine this scene is soon again to be renewed, i.e., at the
General Election. The Hoodites publish such long lists of bad
votes, and exclaim so loudly, that the vulgar opinion is that the
present election will be declared void, which, however, I think
improbable. I imagine you received the strange olio I wrote
before in the form of a letter. Affairs took another turn, I believe the very day after I wrote. The cry of the mob has uniformly gone with the majority, but this is no newly discovered
principle in man. Though my letter required no answer, I begin
to fear lest, wanting a more accurate direction, you have not
received it; pray be so much of an Irishman as to write an
answer to this, whether you receive it or no. I intend to ride
down and pay you a visit, if I can, in the course of next week;
but I do not suppose it will be more than the visit of a day.-I
am, dear Sir, very sincerely yours,       T. HOLCROFT."
" Mr Godwin,
at Mr, Upholsterer,
Guildford, Surrey."
William Godwiln to Thomas Holcroft.
"GUILDFORD, August 5th, 1788.
"DEAR SIR.-Though I am flattered by your attention, and
must acknowledge that you have touched upon my hobbyhorse,
yet I am sorry that your politeness led you to give yourself a
moment's trouble for the sake of gratifying the silly impatience of
your humble servant. I owe you a thousand apologies for not
having answered your letter of a fortnight since; but the fact is
I wrote to you and another gentleman, immediately after my
arrival, by the same post, and was answered by said gentleman
that I was a man of leisure and could write letters; he was
engaged in active life, and could not. No man is less willing to




54


WILLIAM GOD WIN.


be guilty of the sin of intrusion than I am: I therefore took this
rebuff in dudgeon, and forswore the writing of any letters but of
mere business for a fortnight. Will you accept this apology? If
you do, in gratitude I will damn you, and say you have more
good-nature than wit.
"If you did but properly reflect upon my desolate situation,
banished from human society, and condemned to eat grass with
the beasts, you surely would not tantalize me with the visit of a
day. But be it as it will, for I can adapt to myself the words of
Addison with true Addisonian fire, and say"'A day, an hour, of intellectual talk
Is worth a whole eternity of solitude.'
Only upon this occasion keep the reins in your own hands, and
do not fetter yourself too much with domestic stipulations before
you set out.
"Sir, had you remembered the letter of the Chinese Mandarin,
which had no other address than 'Dr Boerhaave, Europe,' you
surely would not have insulted me with the supposition that I
must borrow lustre from a petty upholsterer in such a town as
Guildford, and not be seen by own radiance. I would have you
to know that I am as much of a poet as either Dr Boerhaave, or
even Van Swieten, his commentator. Nay, if you provoke me, I
do not know but I shall enter the lists with Mynheer Van Haaren,
the Homer of the whole Dutch nation.
"Lord John Townshend for ever! Huzza!
"Yours sincerely,
" W. GODWIN.
"Present my compliments to Robinson and Hamilton. Tell
the latter (if you see him, and if you like it) that he has forgotten
me."
The only other letter of special interest relating to this
time is the following from Mrs Godwin senior, to which
may also be added one of somewhat later date, since
it fits in more appropriately here, with the notices of




LETTERS FROM HOME.


55


the Coopers and of Hannah Godwin. Hull Godwin was
Mrs Godwin's eldest son, with whom she was residing.
Mrs Godwin senior to William Godwin.
" ay 29, 1788.
"DEAR WILLIAM, —Your letter to be sure could not fail of
being pleasing and acceptable to me, who delights to hear from
my children, espetially when they are going on comfortably and
are likely to be a blessing to their connections and an ornament
to Religion wh is not the least part of wt we are sent into the
World for. poor dear Hannah once made it her Chief concern
and happiness but now I fear it is otherwise, God grant It may
revive again And yt she may not be as the fig-tree whome the
master of the vinyard came seeking fruit and found none. Is my
daily prayer for her and all of you poor Jack once made a profession two but him I have no hopes off. I may say the same of
Joseph how cuting a Stroke it is to be the means of bringing
Children into the world to be the subjects of the kingdom of
Darkness to dwell with Divils and Damned Spirits from whence as
I have heard you mention in your Prayers there is no redemption.
Sometime agoe I lent Hannah a book of Sermons that was not
my own, but not without the owner's live Mr Copland, I red them
myself and was Charmed with them, espetially as there was one
about declention having lost their first love which I hoped might
have a better effect than all I could say. please from me to desire
her to return the first privat opportunity yt will be safe directed to
Mrs Sothrens, she have miss'd Mr Burchan who would have
brought it safe. You say Miss Anna Trench is going to be married
and I suppose by what you mention to live the Partnership to her
Sister Miss Frances Trench and your Sister as with Miss Trench
why can't you call your Sister Hannah as you call Miss Trenches
Nancy and Fanny and me Hon'd Mother, as well as Mad'm it
would be full as agreeable.
" You say by great luck Joseph has got a comfortable Place I
wish it may Prove so and he deserving of it but If He prospers I




.1


ITLLIAM GOD WIN.


shall think it strange indeed that one could use a Woman as he
has, an agreeable Woman his own Choice and brought him some
fortune and also her friends always doing for her.-and of Jack he
is still the unfortunate man. It is not Scripture Language I do
not as I know off read of luck or fortune then I think it rather the
Language of Heathens and that it should be owned as the smiles
or frowns of Providence or in other words God.
"but I don't want to enter into arguments with you abt it for
perhaps I might not find words or time to go thro it, therefore if
its not agreeable to your notion it will be better to pass it by and
you keep yours and I mine. I had Jackey's letter but could not
find an opportunity to send the o20s he was out of pocket for Natty
when he was hiding from ye Press Gang till now, and this acquaints
you that I have sent ye guinea by the hand of Mr JO Johnson
which is the second on Natty's account and the full of what I
promiss'd and I dont thank Jackey for taking him into good company as he calls it every Evening and two or three Sunday's executions. I like your Conduct to him much better Jackey says you
gave him 5s at parting-my kind love to my dear Hannah.
I remain yr affecate Mother.
"Cousin Sothren Mrs Hull and Hully are well I hope I am at
Norwich and parted with the 2 last mentioned yesterday."
The Same to the Same.
"DALLING, Sep. 5, '92.
"DEAR WILLIAM,-I earnestly pray you may be making
progress Heavenward, that is my fear and question on account of
the little apearance of religion in those that are left as well as
those yt are departed this life. my life is bitter, am obliged to
cry out with David Ps. 13 How long wilt thou forget me 0 Lord
forever, How long wilt thou hide thy face from me. I may say I
pray without ceasing for you, 3 times a Day, besides the sleepless
Hours of the night, and my strength is so feble that I know not
how to sustain myself in the day some times.  I know that




LETTERS FROM HOME.


57


its God's work to make the hart suseptable of divine Impressions.
Not ye most Eloquent preachers, for they are but Earthen Vesels,
Paul and Apolos may water, but without God gives the increase
no fruit will spring up. God's word is full of promisses to those
that seek in sincerity, relying on Christ as the atoning sacrifice
and intercesor, for sure I am that sinners cannot be justified and
accepted by any righteousness of their own. His word declares
that by the works of the Law shall no flesh be justified and for
that reason Christ came to make a propitiation to Offended justis
that all who believe in him might be saved. You know its not
ment without showing their faith by their Obedience as far as we
in our fallen and depraved state are capable, but its not said that
his affronted and despised patience will last always, a bare crying
for mercy at last is a dangerous experiment. I'm obleged to you
for the respect you profsess for me. If I could see my children
walk in ye truth I should be happy, my Happiness is bound up in
theirs. It would sweeten my expiring moments, with Views of
meeting those I have been ye Instrument of bringing into life, in
the happy regions of blesedness where all perplecty will for ever
cease.  Thank yo for ye information you gave me respecting
Natty, as to ye name of ye Ship Capt &c. am sorry he has not
a better constitution, for he can have but few indulgencies in the
way of life He is in. the tempers of seafairing men are generaly
like the boisterous Element. I hope there will come a time
when he will fare better, tho I dont think Mr Hurry have been so
kind to him as might be expected considering he had been so
many years in his service.  his perseverance is a good sign, for
what could be done with him otherwise I dont know. Am realy
sorry John should accept an iniquitous imployment. I think he
might make a living of the two clarks places without the Lottery.
I gave him my advice before I recd yours or knew anything about
it, not to disoblige Mr Finch least he should loose his place. but
would have you use all the influence you have to prevale with him
to keep the two places, and never more to Ingage in the Lottery.
I think he might do exceeding well with his pay and the perquisites.
I sincerely wish Mrs Cooper cou'd meet with an agreabl sittuation,.,




58


TWILLIAM GOD WIN.


believe they are hard to be met with, believe there is something in
her temper that forbids happiness. It must give Miss Cooper
much uneasiness. Miss Cooper is I think a very senceable,
prudent agreeable GirL   Poor Hannah wrote me of the
unlucky accident that befel her of her being push'd down in the
street, and her Cloths being Spoil'd. It was a great mercy she
escaped so well as She did, and was able to get home. I hope it
will be a warning not to be out of an Evining, at least not to
come home alone. Intend writing to her soon. am glad she has
got such an agreeable Girl as Miss Green to bare her company.
I was exceeding hurt that you should have borrow'd 5 guineas of
Mr Venning so long and then say to me when I was in Town he
was so mean as to mention it. What would you have him do, or
what would you have done in such a predicament. However I
have paid it, and shall expect your note for it. You can inquire
at Fish Street Hill when its likely Mr Jacob will be in town for
you to meet him, and give a proper note. These things so often
repeated with all the econemy I am mistress of shall not be able
to do anything for the young ones.
" I have a few friends that I highly value, Mrs Sothren and Mrs
Foster, and Mrs A. Hill is a comfort and help to me, but Mrs
Sothren is a person you ought to Rever as your second Mother,
who nurtured you in your infancy. I did not expect she would
got this winter over, she is so assmatic, thro divine mercy she is
yet spared, and I hope shall see her in the course of the summer.
Mrs Hill was confined near 6 weeks, has a bad complant of her
neck, otherwise is much as usual. She and Hully desire to be remember'd to you.
"from your Affecate Mother,
"A. GODWIN."




CHAPTER III.


POLITICAL     WRITINGS. 1788-1792.
THE notes already mentioned, which are mainly the
authority for the facts of this portion of Godwin's life, are
supplemented by a diary begun by him on the 6th of
April I788, and continued to the end of his life. It was
contained in thirty-two small notebooks, all of which
have been preserved. They are ruled and dated most
carefully in black and red ink, for those were not days
in which such diaries could be purchased ready to hand,
and are marvels of neatness and method., This record
is extremely concise, and contrary to the usual practice of
journal keepers, is even more laconic at the beginning than
towards the end. The use made of this diary was to mention the portion of writing accomplished each day, the
books read, the persons seen, the places visited. In the
earlier volumes many days, and even -weeks are sometimes
left without an entry, and the most full account extends to
but a few words. But for the last forty years of his life
there is no omission of even a single day. It appears that
he was at this time widely extending his circle of acquaintance, and nearly all the names mentioned are those of
men worth knowing.
The following specimens of two weeks may prove of
interest:



60


WILLIAM GOD VWIN.


"Apr. 6.
87.
-   "8.


Su.
M. Called at Webb's.
Tu. Brand Hollis called. The Ton written by La
Wallace acted.


"9. W.
" Io. Th. Hasting's trial resumed.
" r. F. Dined at Leg of Pork. Dr Priestley in London.
" 12. Sa.
"May 4. Su. Dine at Holcroft's. Call on Mr Close, Tower Hill.
"5. M.
"6. Tu.
"7. W. Hear Sir G. Elliot. Dine at Holcroft's.
"8. Th. Tea Holcroft's. Dinner at Cadel's, and on Gibbon's  birthday and  day  of publication.
Sheffield, Fullarton, Reynolds, Gillies, Kippis,
Cour Pl6niere.
" 9. Fr. Exhibition. Nunducomar 55 to 73. Speak with
O'Brien. Priestley from London.
"Io. Sa. Wilson calls. Correct for him Graham's Letter
to Pitt on Scotch Reform."
Much of this diary has now become simply enigmatical,
such as the entries-"Aug. 4. Th. Jour de mauvaise nouvelle. Marshal for Southampton."  "Nov. 22. Sa. Meilleur
nouvelle. Robinson calls," and much which touches on the
mere opinion of the day proves unhistorical, as "Nov. 7.
F. Dine at Hamilton's with Robinson, Archd, Holcroft,
Nicholson, and Mercier, Le roi mourant." The king's illness was his first temporary seizure, from which he entirely
recovered. But to those who have turned over the pages
of the diary, with their short unimpassioned records of forgotten sorrows and forgotten joys, of keen political struggles
and of eloquent voices hushed, there rises a very vivid picture of the dead past, far more life-like than they have
gained from more elaborate histories.




THE FRENCH RE VOLUTION.


6I


Godwin, calm as he seemed, was stirred to his depths by
politics.  Holcroft knew his friend when he wrote him the
details of the Westminster election, and to eager hearts at
the close of the last century it seemed an easier thing to
undo admitted evils than we now find it, who are the
children and grandchildren of those who were roused by
the sound of the first French Revolution. The following
is the note on the year I789:"This was the year of the French Revolution. My heart beat
high with great swelling sentiments of Liberty. I had been for
nine years in principles a republican. I had read with great
satisfaction the writings of Rousseau, Helvetius, and others, the
most popular authors of France. I observed in them a system
more general and simply philosophical than in the majority of
English writers on political subjects; and I could not refrain from
conceiving sanguine hopes of a revolution of which such writings
had been the precursors. Yet I was far from approving all that I
saw even in the commencement of the revolution.... I never
for a moment ceased to disapprove of mob government and violence, and the impulses which men collected together in multitudes
produce on each other. I desired such political changes only as
should flow purely from the clear light of the understanding, and
the erect and generous feelings of the heart."
The diary of this year, though written with the same
extreme brevity, shows that he followed with keen interest
the course of events in France, as "June 23. Tu. Difference
of Necker and the king: he proposes to resign. Dine at
Hollis's with the Garbets.  24. W. Necker is restored."
"July I. Sa. Necker is dismissed."    "I5. W. King of
France submits to the National Assembly."  Under "Nov.
5. W.," is the following entry:-" Dine with the Revolutionists: see Price, Kippis, Rees, Towers, Lindsay, Disney,
Belsham, Forsaith, Morgans, Listers, S. Rogers, and B.




62


WILLIAM GOD WIN.


Wits." "Present Earl Stanhope, Beaufoy, H. Tooke, and
Count Zenobio. See B. Hollis, Jennings, Lofft, and Robinson. Sup with Fawcet."    "The Revolutionists" were the
members of one among many clubs existing at that day
composed of men who sympathised more or less with the
friends of liberty in France. Their President at this time
was Charles, Earl Stanhope. Dr Price had preachedNov. 4th, I789-a sermon before them at the Old Jewry
Meeting House, and their proceedings generally had attracted considerable attention, which was heightened by the
eloquence of Burke, directed against them. The following
draft of a communication from English to French Republicans belongs to this time. It bears no date, and is evidently only a rough copy in Marshal's handwriting, but
the words are the words of Godwin.
"GENTLEMEN,-We acknowledge with the utmost pleasure the
communication you have made us of sentiments honourable to the
country of which you are natives, and calculated to advance
political society to a state of enviable felicity. The Revolution
Society of London does not pretend to the authority of being the
organ of the national sentiment. We are a body of private individuals, who can claim little other distinction than what we derive
from a love of freedom, reason, and humanity. With no desire
to be regarded as of great political importance, we do not scruple
to do everything in our power for the dissemination of benevolence, liberality, and truth.
" We join with you, gentlemen, in the most ardent wishes that
that freedom which for several centuries appeared to have fixed
her last retreat in the island of our birth, may, by your example,
be diffused over Europe and the world. So admirable and illustrious an example cannot be lost. The proceedings of the people of
France will secure tranquillity, and all the virtues of patriotism to
themselves, and a dawn of justice and moderation to surrounding
nations. The inhabitants of Great Britain in particular. may ex



DEATH OF YO UNG HOLCROFT.


63


pect to derive the most essential benefit from the Revolution of
France; and united as we are to you by congeniality of sentiment,
by the cultivation of science and truth, and by the love of that
freedom for which our ancestors bled, we trust it is scarcely possible for any occasion to offer that can lead two such nations to
engage in mutual hostilities."
Godwin lived much in society during this year, being a
very constant visitor at the house of Miss Helen Maria
Williams, where many literary people congregated almost
every night at tea-time.  There are repeated notices of
intimacy with Willis Webb, his old pupil, and of almost
daily meetings with Holcroft. On this friend fell the great
sorrow of the death of his son in November I789.
His son was a lad of sixteen, who had long shown -a wild
and wandering disposition, and, young as he was, had
several times run away from home. He had, however,
seemed of late more steady, and had been in consequence
praised and rewarded by his father. But the old disposition again showed itself. On Nov. 8 he broke open his
father's desk, stole from it ~40 and a pair of pistols, and
set off to join a friend who was sailing for the West Indies.
He was pursued to Gravesend, but there for a time all
trace was lost. A few days after he was found to be at
Deal, on board the " Fame," and on a search being made
he concealed himself in the steerage. He had said that he
would shoot whoever came to take him, unless it.was his
father, in which case he would shoot himself. This his
father considered to be a mere threat. He was called, but
did not answer. A light was procured, but as soon as the
lad heard his father advancing, with the ship's steward and
some of the crew, he suddenly shot himself, unable to bear
the shame of open detection. The shock to Holcroft was




64


WZILLIAM GOD WIN.


very great. For a whole year afterwards he seldom left his
house, and the impression was never wholly effaced from
his mind.
The entries in Godwin's journal show that he was the
friend who accompanied the father first to.Gravesend and
afterwards to Deal to seek the fugitive.    They are as
follows:" Nov. 8. Tu. Dine at Holcroft's-Elopement de son fils.
" 9. M. To Gravesend.
" Nov. 15. Su. Dine at Holcroft's: set out for Deal. Call upon
Crosdil W. Holcroft.
" I6. M. Mort de son fils.
"17. Tu. Funerailles: to have drank tea with Holcroft
at Miss Williams's.
" Nov. 22. Su. Dine at Holcroft's: Crosdil calls.
"77. F. Dine at Holcroft's: write a paragraph sur son fils."
IVrs Shelley has left a short note on this occurrence:
"The youth was of an unfortunate disposition, and his conduct
was very reprehensible, at the same time it is certain that Holcroft
carried further than Godwin a certain unmitigated severity, an
exposition of duty and truth, and of the defalcation from these in
the offender, conceived in language to humiliate and wound, a
want of sympathy with the buoyant spirit of youth when conjoined
to heedlessness and, it may be added, dissipation, all of which
tended to set still wider the distance too usually observed between
father and child.- Something of this Godwin detected in himself
in his conduct towards Cooper. I mention this circumstance the
more particularly, as it, several years afterwards, caused the breach
between Holcroft and Godwin which was never healed until the
death of the former."
Under the year 1790 Godwin writes:
" My mind became more and more impregnated with the principles afterwards developed in my Political Justice; they were the




POLITICAL ASSOCIA TION6S.


65


almost constant topic of conversation between Holcroft and
myself; and he, who in his sceptic and other writings had displayed the sentiments of a courtier, speedily became no less a
republican and a reformer than myself. In this year I wrote a
tragedy on the story of St. Dunstan, being desirous, in writing a
tragedy, of developing the great springs of human passion, and in
the choice of a subject of inculcating those principles on which I
apprehend the welfare of the human race to depend."
The Diary becomes somewhat more full, recording here
and there scraps of conversation. He took the same vivid
interest in foreign politics, and he also attended the debates
in the House of Commons. Some fragments which belong
to this period show that the ambition to be himself a
Member was not strange to him, and he mentions with
pleasure that Sheridan had once said to him, "You ought
to be in Parliament." He speaks of another dinner with
the " French Revolutionists," at which were present "Stanhope, Sheridan, Tooke, O'Brien, B. Hollis, Geddes, Lindsey, Price, Paradise," and one of the party said to him,
"We are particularly fortunate in having you among us;
it is having 'the best cause countenanced by the man by
whom we most wished to see it supported." There was a
dinner with the "Anti-Tests," among whom are, as might
be expected, some of the people we have seen among the
Revolutionists: "Fox, Beaufoy, Hoghton, Sawbridge,
Adair, Watson, Heywood, B. Hollis, Shore, Geddes,
Vaughan, Fell, Stone, Woodfall, Listers."
There is also the record of a correspondence with the
Bishop of Llandaff and the Archbishop of Canterbury in'
reference to a vacancy in the Natural History Department
of the British Museum, of which correspondence Dr Watson's letters remain.  It is curious that when applying,
without success, for the vacant post, Godwin still calls him

I.


E




66


WILLIAM GOD'WIN.


self, "The Rev. William  Godwin" in a letter to Lord
Robert Spencer. It would appear, however, that he did so
rather with a view of identifying himself with the person
whom Lord Robert had known in former years, than with
any wish of resuming a character which, as he said, had
completely quitted him. He had, as will be remembered,
dedicated his sermons to the Bishop of Llandaff, who had
by no means forgotten him. The Bishop's letter is curious,
as evidence that a liberal Bishop even in those days was
somewhat suspect.
The Bishop of Llandaff to William Godwin.
SIR,-I would not have hesitated a moment writing to the
Archbishop in your favour, if I had not been of opinion that my
appearing in support of a Dissenter would rather have tended to
obstruct than to promote your wishes. The enclosed is written in
such a manner that if you think it can serve you, it may be sent
as from yourself, as a kind of confirmation that you had used my
name with propriety. I sincerely wish you success, and am your
most obedient Servant,                TH. LLANDAFF.
CALLGARTH, KENDALL,
"7ay I8, 1790."
The last entry in the Diary for the year is under date of
Dec. 31: "It was in this year that I read and criticised
'The Simple Story' in MS." This was probably at the
instance of the publisher, for Godwin does not appear to
have made Mrs Inchbald's personal acquaintance till the
autumn of I792.
Godwin's autobiographical note for the year I791 is
somewhat longer than usual, and must be given in full, as
showing the growth of his political views, and giving his
first conception of his great work, the "Enquiry concerning Political Justice."




TREA TISE ON POLITICAL PRINCIPLES.


67


" On the 29th of April in this year 2vlr Holcroft and I wrote two
anonymous letters, he to Mr Fox, and I to Mr Sheridan. Mr Fox,
in the debate on the bill for giving a new constitution to Canada,
had said that he would not be the man to propose the abolition of
a House of Lords in a country where such a power was already
established; but as little would he be the man to recommend the
introduction of such a power where it was not. This was by no
means the only public indication he had shown how deeply he
had drank of the spirit of the French Revolution. The object of
the above-mentioned letters was to excite these two illustrious men
to persevere gravely and inflexibly in the career on which they had
entered. I was strongly impressed with the sentiment that in the
then existing circumstances of England and of Europe great and
happy improvements might be achieved under such auspices without
anarchy and confusion. I believed that important changes must
arise, and I was inexpressibly anxious that such changes should be
effected under the conduct of the best and most competent leaders.
"This year was the main crisis of my life. In the summer of
179I I gave up my concern in the New Annual Register, the
historical part of which I had written for seven years, and
abdicated, I hope for ever, the task of performing a literary
labour, the nature of which should be dictated by anything but
the promptings of my own mind. I suggested to Robinson the
-bookseller the idea of composing a treatise on Political Principles,
and he agreed to aid me in executing it. My original conception
proceeded on a feeling of the imperfections and errors of
Montesquieu, and a desire of supplying a less faulty work. In
the first fervour of my enthusiasm, I entertained the vain imagination of "hewing a stone from the rock," which, by its inherent
energy and weight, should overbear and annihilate all opposition,
and place the principles of politics on an immoveable basis. It
was my first determination to tell all that I apprehended to be
truth, and all that seemed to be truth, confident that from such a
proceeding the best results were to be expected."
The diary shows many and various literary labours
besides the composition of "Political Justice," which, when




68


WILLIAM GOD WIN.


J


fairly started, was written very slowly: six or seven pages
of MS. are recorded as being the utmost written in a day,
but far more often a page, half a page, or even a paragraph
or a sentence written twice, are proofs of the extreme care
which was bestowed on the work.     Godwin took also
Italian lessons, and his reading in all branches, from Greek
plays and Greek philosophy to modern belles lettres, was
vast. But he was an extremely discursive reader, and had
several books in hand at once, carefully noting how many
pages of each were read as the day's task. He visited the
theatre frequently, and took great interest in all that
related to the stage. Here are a few of the entries for this
year:

"March r6, W.
"19, S.


Robinson calls; proposes a 'Naval History.'
Wrote to Robinson; propose ~Io50, i.e.,
~525 per volume.


It is perhaps not surprising to find that the publisher
declined to accede to these terms, or that in consequence
there is an entry:

"Mar. 25, F.
"June 3o, Th.
"July io, M.
"Aug. 3i,W.
" Nov. 30, W.


Demel6 avec Robinson.
Dine with   Robinson; propose  'Political
Principles.'
Close with Robinson.
Holcroft dines, Fawcet expected; d6em16
faintness.
Holcroft at tea; un peu de ddme16 sur Davis."


It would not be fair to suppress these very characteristic
notes of hot temper, and quarrels with his best friends,
which also appear only too often in the letters. It must,
however, be said that the vehemence of temper soon
exhausted itself, and did not affect the real regard which
Godwin felt for those with whom he disputed the most.




THE RIGHTS OF MAN.


69


And during this and the next year, during which the word
"dameale" so often occurs, we also have notices in this
plain-spoken diary of various forms of ill-health, resulting
apparently from  Godwin's very sedentary   habits, no
symptom being serious in itself, but all of a kind which
are frequently found most trying to the nerves and temper
of the patient.
In the spring of 179I, Thomas Paine, whose acquaintance Godwin had made at the house of Mr Brand Hollis,
published his celebrated pamphlet, "The Rights of Man,"
in answer to Burke's "Reflections on the French Revolu- \/
tion." Godwin and Holcroft had both seen much of this in
MS., and the former wrote of it in terms of great though
measured praise. Holcroft-never so cautious-addressed
to Godwin a little twisted note, worth insertion here as
some evidence of the fervour of spirit which animated men
in days when such eager utterances escaped from a press,
over which hung the terrors of the pillory, and of prosecutions for high treason.
Thomas Holcroft to William Godwin. [No date.]
"I have got it-If this do not cure my cough it is a damned
perverse mule of a cough-The pamphlet-From the row-But
mum-We don't sell it-Oh, no-Ears and Eggs-Verbatim,
except the addition of a short preface, which, as you have not
seen, I send you my copy-Not a single castration (Laud be unto
God and J. S. Jordan!) can I discover-Hey for the New
Jerusalem! The millennium! And peace and eternal beatitude
be unto the soul of Thomas Paine."
The pamphlet had been originally printed for Johnson
of St Paul's Churchyard, who, on seeing it in print, de



70


WtILLIAM GODWIN.


dined to publish it.  The unexpected refusal caused a
month's delay. A few copies, however, got into private
hands, one of which, bearing Johnson's name as publisher,
is in the British Museum. Some of those most anxious
for the appearance of the tract urged the excision of certain passages, and it was commonly believed that it was
not issued after all in its original form. A "Life of Thomas
Paine, by Francis Oldys, A.M. of the University of Pennsylvania"-a Pseudonym for George Chalmers, one of the
Clerks of Plantations, the real author of the book-has the
following passage on " The Rights of Man:""The men mid-wives determined to deprive the child of its
virility, rather than so hopeful an infant should be withheld from
the world. At length, on the I3th of March I791, this mutilated
brat was delivered to the public by Mr J. S. Jordan, at No. i66
Fleet Street."
Holcroft, however, was quite right; he and Godwin were
members of the Committee, of which Mr Brand Hollis was
the leading spirit, to whom had been entrusted the revisal
of the work.
One more entry in the diary of this year calls for attention, for it records Godwin's first meeting with Mary
Wollstonecraft.
"Nov. I3, Su.  Correct.  Dyson and Dibdin call; talk of
virtue and disinterest. Dine at Johnson's with Paine, Shovet,
and Wolstencraft; talk of monarchy, Tooke, Johnson, Voltaire,
pursuits, and religion. Sup at Holcroft's."
The autobiographical note for I792 is concerned with the
preparation of his work on Political Justice. That he was




THE REVOLUTIONISTS.


71


engaged on it was already well known to a not inconsiderable number of persons likely to be interested in the
subject, and it appears that the work received during its
preparation the imprimatur of men whose views still carry
weight. Godwin writes:" During this year I was in the singular situation of an author,
possessing some degree of fame for a work still unfinished and
unseen. I was introduced on this ground to Mr Mackintosh,
David Williams,"-founder, and afterwards a pensioner of the
Literary Fund, died i816,-"Joel Barlow,"-afterwards American
ambassador to Napoleon, died at Wilna, Dec. 26, I8I2; the translator of Volney,-"and others, and with these gentlemen, together
with Mr Nicholson," —a mathematical teacher, foreign agent for
Wedgwood, civil engineer, died 18 5,-" and Mr Holcroft, had occa- \
sional meetings, in which the principles of my work were discussed.
Towards the close of the year I became acquainted with Mr Home
Tooke, to whose etymological conversation and various talents I
am proud to acknowledge myself greatly indebted, though these
came too late to be of any use to me in the concoction of my
work, which was nearly printed off before I had first the pleasure
of meeting this extraordinary and admirable man."
From the Diary, however, it appears that the foregoing
paragraph must be understood with limitations.   Godwin
and Home Tooke had met from time to time at the meet-      o'?,"
ings of the "Revolutionists," and had been thus slightly t%."
acquainted, though no degree of intimacy had sprung up, it
nor had they met in private. The entries also record in
increasing detail the topics of the conversations held day
by day with friends, as "Dyson at tea, talk of ancient
virtue, and respect for other men's judgment;" "Tea at
Barlow's with Jardine,-Stuart, Wolstencraft, and Holcroft:
talk of self-love, sympathy, and perfectibility, individual
and general;" "Sup at Nicholson's, talk of ideal unity."




72


WILLIAM GOD WIN.


Godwin saw much of his sister Hannah in this year, much
of Mrs and Miss Cooper; his brothers were not unfrequently his guests; but the only entries which are especially interesting are a few which shew how warmly he and
his friends welcomed to England any one who represented
the leaders of the Revolution in France. Thus-   -
"Sep. 6. Th. Dine at Holcroft's avec Noel et le cousin de
Danton, Merget.
" Oct. 14. Su.  Dine at Holcroft's with Crosdil: adv."-advente
-" Merget, Danton junr et Pinard.
" Oct. 21. Su. Dine at Holcroft's with Major Waller, Merget
and Recordat; History of Danton."
On Nov. 25 are the words, "Debating Society silenced,"
which, taken with the political trials so soon to follow,
make us wonder how Englishmen remained quiet while
France rebelled.
Since Godwin came to London he had been living in
various lodgings, the greater part of the time having one
or two persons to share his chambers-the boys Willis
Webb, and Cooper, and often his friend Marshal. In the
next year he took a house to himself, and in a district
where he could be more free from interruptions. As this
year was therefore in a degree the end of his nomad existence, a note may be inserted from among his papers giving
the various changes of abode.
"Holborn,      Apl. 1782. "Newman St.,   June J 786.
"Beaconsfield,  Dec.,,   "Berkeley St.,  Sep.,,
"Porter St.,   Aug. 1783. "Norfolk St.,  Mar. I787.
"Strand,.     Sep.,,   "Guildford,     June 1788.
"Norfolk St.,  Dec. 1784. "Marylebone St., Sep.,,
"Tavistock Row, Mar. I785. "Titchfield St.,  Dec. I790.
"Broad St.,    June,    "39 Devonshire St.,  I792."2




MRS INCHBALD.


73


Mrs Inchbald, whose more intimate friendship and correspondence with Godwin began in I792, was the well-known
authoress of " The Simple Story." This was, as we have
seen, criticised by Godwin; and the plot was in a measure
altered in deference to his advice.
Mrs Shelley has left the following note relative to Mrg
Inchbald:"She was one of a numerous family, orphaned of their father,
whose mother had to struggle with poverty. She was exceedingly
beautiful. The spirit of adventure natural in youth seems to have
developed itself in her with unusual vigour, but it was joined by
a certain saving grace of self-command and, self-possession that
bore her through nearly unharmed. She married early an actor,
and went also on the stage. She was left a widow at the age of
six-and-twenty, and from that time had to struggle alone with the
world. She continued her career as an actress for some time
under many disadvantages, an impediment in her speech preventing all hope of excellence, till at length her success as an author
enabled her to retire from the stage.
" Nothing can be more singular and interesting than the picture
of her life as given in her biography. Living in mean lodgings,,dressed with an economy allied to penury, without connections,
and alone, her beauty, her talents, and the charm of her manners
gave her entrance into a delightful circle of society. Apt to fall in
love, and desirous to marry, she continued single, because the men
who loved and admired her were too worldly to take an actress
and a poor author, however lovely and charming, for a wife. Her
life was thus spent in an interchange of hardship and amusement,
privation and luxury. Her character partook of the same contrast: fond of pleasure, she was prudent in her conduct; penurious
in her personal expenditure, she was generous to others. Vain of
her beauty, we are told that the gown she wore was not worth a
shilling, it was so coarse and shabby. Very susceptible to the
softer feelings, she could yet guard herself against passion; and
though she might have been called a flirt, her character was unim



74


WILLIAM GOD WIA.


peached. I have heard that a rival beauty of her day pettishly
complained that when Mrs Inchbald came into a room, and sat
in a chair in the middle of it as was her wont, every man gathered
round it, and it was vain for any other woman to attempt to gain
attention. Godwin could not fail to admire her; she became and
continued to be a favourite. Her talents, her beauty, her manners
were all delightful to him. He used to describe her as a piquante
mixture between a lady and a milkmaid, and added that Sheridan
declared she was the only authoress whose society pleased him."
One letter of Mrs Inchbald's may here be given, the first
apparently written by her to Godwin: it relates to her
tragedy called " The Massacre," which was never acted, but
may be found in the Appendix to Boaden's Memoirs of her
Life.
Mrs Inzchbald to William Godwinz.
3rd Nov. 1792.
"SIR,-There is so much tenderness mixed with the justice of
your criticism, that, while I submit to the greatest part of it as
unanswerable, I feel anxious to exculpate myself in those points
where I believe it is in my power.
"You accuse me of trusting to newspapers for my authority. I
have no other authority (no more, I believe, has half England) for
any occurrence which I do not see: it - is by newspapers that I am
told that the French are at present victorious; and I have no
doubt but you will allow that (in this particular, at least) they speak
truth.
" I2ndly. There appears an inconsistency in my having said to
you, 'I have no view to any public good in this piece,' and afterwards alluding to its preventing future massacres: to this I reply
that it was your hinting to me that it might do harm which gave
me the first idea that it might do good.
"3-dly. I do not shrink from Labour, but I shrink from illhealth, low spirits, disappointment, and a long train of evils which
attend on Laborious Literary work. I was ten months, unceasingly,




LETTER TO SHERIDANA.


7:


finishing my'novel, notwithstanding the plan (such as you saw it)
was formed,Fand many pages written. My health suffered much
during this confinement, my spirits suffered more on publication;.
for though many gentlemen of the first abilities have said to me
things high in its favour, it never was liked by those people who
are the readers and consumers of novels; and I have frequently
obtained more pecuniary advantage by ten days' labour in the
dramatic way than by the labour of this ten months.-Your very
much obliged humble servant,              E. INCHBALD.
"LEICESTER SQUARE, 24//. "
It does not-appear that the letters by Godwin and Holcroft to Sheridan and Fox were printed, but the MS. copy
is among the Godwin papers, as from " a well-known literary
character."  The following paragraphs are noteworthy:" You would willingly promote the true interests and happiness
of the human race. You' would willingly enrol your name with
the benefactors of mankind, or, which is still better, would rejoice
in the extension of justice, though your efforts in promoting that
extension should never be acknowledged. Can you really think
that the new constitution of France is the most glorious fabric..
ever raised by human integrity since the creation of man, and yet
believe that what is good there would be bad here? Does truth
alter its nature by crossing the Straits, and become falsehood?
Are men entitled to perfect equality in France, and is it just to
deprive them of it in England? Did the French do well in extinguishing nobility, and is it right that we should preserve hereditary honours? Or are these questions so very trifling in their
nature, so uninteresting to the general weal, that it is no matter
which side of them we embrace? If you speak out you must be
contented to undergo a temporary proscription. That proscription you at present suffer, and the period of the obloquy which the
true friend to mankind must endure will be very short. Had you
rather be indebted for your eminence to the caprice of a monarch
than to the voice of a whole nation, accumulating its gratitude on




76


WILLIA M GOD WIN.


the head of the general benefactor? Had you rather have the
nominal possession of power, with your' hands free for the purposes of corruption, but chained up from the exertion of every
virtuous effort, than have the real possession of power, able to
make every -act of your administration a blessing to Britain, to
Europe, and to mankind."
Again:"Liberty strips hereditary honours of their imaginary splendour,
- shows the noble and the king for what they are-common mortals,
kept in ignorance of what other mortals know, flattered and eni couraged in folly and vice, and deprived of those stimulations
/ which perpetually goad the hero and the philosopher to the acquisition of excellence. Liberty leaves nothing to be admired
but talents and virtue, the very things which it is the interest of
men like you should be preferred to all the rest. Pursue this:subject to its proper extent, and you will find that —give to a state
but liberty enough, and it is impossible that vice should exist
in it."
This sweeping, and somewhat astounding statement,
proves the excess of Godwin's enthusiasm on the subject
-of political liberty. Mrs Shelley writes with respect to the
passage just quoted:"It may seem strange that any one should, in the sincerity of
his heart, believe that no vice could co-exist with perfect freedom
-but my father did-it was the very basis of his system, the very
keystone of the arch of justice, by which he desired to knit together the whole human family. It must be remembered, however, that no man was a more strenuous advocate for the slow
operation of change, no one more entirely impressed with the
feeling that opinions should be in advance of action. Perhaps
even to a faulty degree he desired that nothing should be done
but by the majority, while he ardently sought for every means of
causing the majority to espouse the better side."




CHAPTER IV.


LITERARY LIFE AND FRIENDS- I793.
IN I793 Godwin published " Political Justice," and it becomes necessary to examine this important work, as well
as the various writings which preceded it. Any attempt
to form an estimate of his literary labours has hitherto
been deliberately set aside, and the next chapter will
be devoted to the task. In the meantime Godwin shall
give his own account of his mode of life at this period:"In the beginning of the year 1793 I removed to a small house
in Challon Street, Somers Town, which I possessed entirely to
myself, with no other attendance than the daily resort of a bedmaker for about an hour each day. No man could be more desirous than I was of adopting a practice conformable to my principles, as far as I could do so without affording reasonable ground
of offence to any other person. I was anxious not to spend a
penny on myself, which I did not imagine calculated to render
me a more capable servant of the public, and as I was averse to
the expenditure of money, so I was not inclined to earn it but in
small portions. I considered the disbursement of money for the
benefit of others as a very difficult problem, which he who has the
possession of it is bound to solve in the best manner he can, but
which affords small encouragement to any one to acquire it who
has it not. The plan, therefore, I resolved on was leisure-a
leisure to be employed in deliberate composition, and in the pursuit of such attainments as afforded me the most promise to render
me useful. For years I scarcely did anything at home or abroad




'78


IWVILLIAM GOD WIN.


without the enquiry being uppermost in my mind whether I could
be better employed for general benefit; and I hope much of this
temper has survived, and will attend me to my grave. The frame
in which I found myself exalted my spirits, and rendered me more
of a talker than I was before or have been since, and than is
agreeable to my natural character. Certainly I attended now,
and at all times, to everything that was offered in the way of
reasoning and argument, with the sincerest desire of embracing
the truth, and that only.  The 'Enquiry concerning Political
Justice' was published in February. In this year also I wrote the
principal part of the novel of ' Caleb Williams,' which may, perhaps, be considered as affording no inadequate image of the fervour
of my spirit; it was the offspring of that temper of mind in which
the composition of my ' Political Justice' left me. In this year
I acquired the friendship of many excellent persons-Thomas
Wedgwood, Richard Porson, Joseph Gerrald, Robert Merry, and
Joseph Ritson."
Of these, Porson's name needs no remark; of Gerrald
and Wedgwood more hereafter.    Merry was a Harrow and
Cambridge man, afterwards in the Guards. He wrote
plays and poetry, now forgotten, under the signature " Della
Crusca." He married Miss Brunton, a well-known actress,
emigrated to America, and died there in I798.
Ritson was a lawyer, but better known as the collector
of old English songs and ballads. He was a vegetarian,
and died in 1803, aged fifty-one.
Mrs Shelley's affectionate note on Wedgwood demands
insertion:"Godwin cemented this year his acquaintance with a man
known to himself and all his literary contemporaries, as the most
generous, the most amiable of men; Thomas Wedgwood of
Etruria, in Staffordshire, a name dear to all who reverence virtue
and goodness. His enthusiasm in the cause of knowledge, his
earnest desire to serve his fellows, rank him high among good




HABITS OF LIFE.


79


men. He was afflicted with bad health, which acted on his
nerves, and frequently rendered him low-spirited to a painful
degree. At one time he and Godwin contemplated making a
common household together; their establishment was to be conducted on the most economical plan, as suited the narrow circumstances of the one, and the generous views of the other, which
led him to limit his personal expenses, that he might have more
to spare for others."
This scheme, however, fell through, and Godwin continued to live, now alone, as he tells us, in Challon Street,
Somers Town. He furnished only a part of his house, and
keeping strictly to his intention of earning little and spending little, he lived during three successive years on the
several annual sums of;~ I I 0, ~I 2o, and ~ I 30.
His habits were exceedingly regular, and remained the
same to the end of his life.
"He rose," says his daughter, " between seven and eight, and
read some classic author before breakfast. From nine till twelve
or one he occupied himself with his pen. He found that he could
not exceed this measure of labour with any advantage to his own
health, or the work in hand. While writing ' Political Justice,'
there was one paragraph which he wrote eight times over before
he could satisfy himself with the strength and perspicuity of his
expressions. On this occasion a sense of confusion of the brain
came over him, and he applied to his friend Mr Carlisle, afterwards Sir Anthony Carlisle, the celebrated surgeon, who warned
him that he had exerted his intellectual faculties to their limit.
In compliance with his direction, Mr Godwin reduced his hours
of composition within what many will consider narrow bounds.
The rest of the morning was spent in reading and seeing his
friends. When at home he dined at four, but during his bachelor
life he frequently dined out. His dinner at home at this time was
simple enough. He had no regular servant; an old woman came
in the morning to clean and arrange his rooms, and if necessary she
prepared a mutton chop, which was put in a Dutch oven."




80


WILLIAM GODWIN.


The diary shows the same amount of reading as heretofore, chiefly in English, Latin, and French. It tells of work
contemplated as well as accomplished, as, for instance, under
Oct. 20. " Plan a treatise on God," and he notes also that
he made a proposal to Robinson to write a history of
Rome, "from the building of the city by Romulus to the
Battle of Actium," the demand for which he considered
would be "immense." There is the same eagerness about
foreign and home politics, but the most exciting events,
such as the sentence on and death of Louis XVI., Horne
Tooke's trial [Jan. 24th], the debate whether Political Justice should or should not be prosecuted [May 25th], are
told in the fewest words.
In reference to this last event Mrs Shelley says that from
"A government fearful and suspicious in the extreme, ready to
use any measures for pulling down the spirit of innovation which
had spread abroad, every man who publicly announced liberal
opinions anticipated prosecution. I have frequently heard my
father say that Political Justice escaped prosecution from the
reason that it appeared in a form too expensive for general acquisition.  Pitt observed, when the question was debated in the
Privy Council, that ' a three guinea book could never do much
harm among those who had not three shillings to spare."'
In publishing the book at this high price
" Godwin acted in strict conformity to his principles. He was,
an advocate for improvements brought in by the enlightened and
sober-minded, but he deprecated abrupt innovations, and appeals
to the passions of the multitude."
The publisher, however, expected a large sale of the
book, and his expectations were realised. The agreement between author and publisher, " William   Godwin,
of Challon Street, in the parish of St Pancras, Middlesex,
gentleman, and George Robinson, of Paternoster Row,.




MRS RE VELE Y.


8I


bookseller," is extant. Seven hundred guineas was paid
down by Robinson for the copyright, and a further sum of
three hundred guineas was covenanted to be paid, and was
paid, after the sale of 3000 copies in quarto, or 4000 in
quarto and octavo added together. The work was first
brought out "in two volumes quarto, containing one hundred and twenty sheets, or thereabouts."
The only entry at this time which calls for special
remark in regard to the list of friends and acquaintances,
is that of the name of Mrs Reveley, which meets us now
for the first time, and from the first very frequently.
"Maria Reveley," writes Mrs Shelley, "was the daughter of an
English merchant at Constantinople, named James. Her education had been wild and singular, and had early developed the
peculiar and deep-seated sensibility which through life-formed her
characteristic. Her father had left her in infancy with her mother
in England-he might be said to have deserted them, for they
lived in great penury. She remembered once asking her mother
for a farthing to buy a cake, which was given her with such reluctance, on the score of poverty, that with a passion of tears she
returned it. Mrs James at length took a desperate resolution,
and sailed to Constantinople with her daughter, then eight years
old. Mr James had no inclination to renew his conjugal duties.
He had in his house the wife of one of his skippers as housekeeper, and it was generally believed she stood to him in a more
intimate relation.  He was, however, delighted with his little
daughter, and had her stolen from her mother, and secreted in
the house of a Turk, till he had persuaded-Mrs James, by the
promise of an annuity, to return to England alone. The little
Maria was then taken home, and brought up with sedulous care.
Many accomplishments were taught her, and on one of the first
side-saddles which appeared in the East, she accompanied her
father in his rides in the environs of Constantinople. While yet a
F




82


8WILLIAfM GOD WIN.


mere child she looked womanly and formed, and entered into the
society of European merchants and diplomatists.  Having no
proper chaperon, she was left to run wild as she might, and at a
very early age had gone through the romance of life. When she
was fifteen her father left Constantinople and went to Rome.
She had shown great talent for painting, and it was her wish that
she should cultivate this art under the tuiton of Angelica Kauffman.
Her studies were, however, interrupted by her early marriage.
Her beauty attracted the admiration of Mr Reveley, a young
English architect travelling for improvement; they married and
came to England.
"Mr Reveley's means were small, his father being still alive,
and his marriage imprudent, for Mr James, who acted ill in all
the relations of life, refused to consent to the match, only, as it
would seem, as an excuse for giving his daughter no fortune.
From the genial climate, the luxuries, the gay and refined society
which had surrounded her, Mrs Reveley found herself transported
to a situation but little removed from penury, demanding an
economy and self-denial in expenditure of the most painful kind.
She found herself among the middling class of English peopleignorant, narrow-minded, and bigoted. She felt fallen on evil
days, the fairy lights had disappeared from life; sedulous occupation bestowed on the necessaries of life was varied only by society
which did not possess a ray of intellect, and had but little refinement.
"She was very young and very beautiful, and possessed a peculiar charm of character in her deep sensibility, and an ingenuous
modesty that knew no guile: this was added to ardour in the pursuit of knowledge, a liberal and unquenchable curiosity. Parties
ran high in those days. Her husband joined the liberal side, and
entered with enthusiasm into the hopes and expectations of political freedom, which then filled every heart to bursting. The
consequence of these principles was to lead to his acquaintance
with many of their popular advocates, and among them with Godwin and Holcroft. There was a gentleness, and yet a fervour in
the minds of both Mrs Reveley and Godwin that led to sympathy.




BIREACH WITH NEWTON.


83


He was ready to gratify her desire for knowledge, and she drank
eagerly of the philosophy which he offered. It was pure but
warm friendship, which might have grown into another feeling,
had they been differently situated. As it was, Godwin saw only
in her a favourite pupil, a charming friend, a woman whose conversation and society were fascinating and delightful; but his calm
and philosophic heart was undisturbed by any of those feelings
which in natures less happily tempered would too readily have
crept in to disturb and injure."
A considerable part of the correspondence for this year
turns, as might be expected, on Political Justice. The
letters to and from  Newton, Godwin's old schoolmaster,
explain themselves, and they substantiate also what has
been already surmised, that the extreme dislike of the
pupil for the master in later years dated, not from the time
of their early intercourse, but from the misunderstanding
which arose when each became conscious of the wide
chasm which separated their opinions. The chasm appeared
to widen, the breach in feeling was the greater, because,
though he would not afterwards admit it, Godwin had
really been conscious of great intellectual indebtedness to
his old teacher, not unmixed with affection on both sides.
William Godwin to the Rev. Samuel Newtoa.
" SIR,-I have been informed that you have delivered it as your'
judgment of the work I have published on Political Justice, that,
upon attempting the perusal, you found in it matters so peculiarly
censurable that you could not bear to read any farther.
" I confess I am strongly inclined to believe that there has been
some mistake on the part of my informant, and that the story I
have heard is untrue. -If so, you will thank me for giving you
an opportunity to contradict it.




84


WILLIAM GOD WIN.


"Having written thus much, I will trouble you with the reasons
that persuade me you never delivered the opinion ascribed to you.
" When I knew you, you were an ardent champion for political
liberty. I cannot easily suppose that you have changed your
sentiments on that head.
"It is impossible that you shouldnot have perceived that the
book in question is intended to promote that glorious cause.
Granting that I have the misfortune to differ from you in your
theological creed, I am well assured that at the period to which I
allude, you had the candour and discernment to do justice to the
political writings of people of all persuasions in religion and philosophy. The indulgence in this respect that you would grant to
all other men, I cannot suppose you would deny to me. The
subject of the book is not religion, but politics: if it be calculated
to produce any effect, it is infinitely more probable that that effect
will relate to its express object, than its incidental allusions; to
the politics which I imagine you will allow to be generally right,
than to the theology which you perhaps suspect to be wrong.
" There is a view which I am strongly inclined to entertain upon
this subject, that I will take the liberty to mention..We have all
of us our duties. Every action of our lives, and every word that
we utter, will either conduce to or detract from the discharge of
our duty. We cannot any of us do all the things of which mankind stand in need; we must have fellow-labourers. Hence it
seems to follow that it is one of our most important duties to do
justice to the good qualities of every man and every book that
falls under observation, that thus we may enlarge the opportunity
of others for discharging those parts of public service which we
cannot perform ourselves. It is unworthy of any real friend to
mankind to depreciate any well conceived endeavour from a too
painful feeling of the incidental defects that may accompany it.
"I make no apology for want of ceremony. We are both of us,
I conceive, enemies to that servility under which the species have
so long laboured."




MR NEWTON'S CREED.


Samuel Newton to William Godwin.
" THORPE NEXT NORWICH, Dec. 4l1, I793.
"DEAR SIR,-I naturally contract a friendship, feel an attachment, and interest myself in the welfare of those who have for any
time lived with me, though their sentiments and habits may be
different from mine. Sincerely can I say that I have been very
solicitous for your reputation and welfare; and when I saw your
publication advertised, I told several gentlemen of my acquaintance of different persuasions, that from what I knew of your
abilities and application, I presumed it was a production that
merited attention. When I was lately at my son's at Witham, I
was determined, as he had procured it for a book-club there, I
believe on my recommendation, to read it attentively through,
though it was in a library at Norwich some time before, to which I
belonged, but I had not time then to investigate its contents. In
the perusal I was charmed with your language, with many of your
sentiments, and with your general idea of political justice and
liberty. I said that there were some descriptions, reasonings, and
ideas, that for simplicity, elegance, force, and utility, seemed to
me to surpass all that I had ever read in Tacitus, Polybius, Montesquieu, Barbeyrac, Grotius, Robertson, Price, or Priestley.
"But I will ingenuously confess to you (and I have, you know,
a right to think for myself) that there were several things that you
advanced concerning moral obligation, gratitude, any public test
of marriage, Christianity, and one or two more subjects, that very
much disgusted me. My indignation was raised, not so much
that you differed from me, but because I considered it would
damn the book, which contained in it so many useful and interesting sentiments. Towards the close, or about the middle of the
second volume, I found something of this kind, and I did throw
by the book, with some such sentence as you have heard, but it
was from an impulse, I can assure you, arising from the preceding
views. Truth I revere, though it condemns my own conduct.
"I believe Christianity, you may not; but as I am convinced
that it is the most friendly system to the equality and liberty of




86. 86LLIAM GOD WLN.


mankind that ever was published, I think justice requires me to
resent a person's suggesting that I am not as strongly attached to
the rights of man as any one who does not believe it.
" In short, Sir, permit me to intimate that when you publish
another edition, I think you can better the arrangement, and make
the general method more perspicuous; and if you should think
proper to change your expressions, and leave out certain sentences
on some subjects, which are, as I conceive, no ways essential to
your general system, your performance will be more extensively
perused, and it will wonderfully add, I doubt not, to that torrent
of political light which is pouring in upon an oppressed world.
"Thus much I thought it my duty to suggest to you, but
whether you think it worthy your attention or not, I shall think I
am bound by immutable justice to wish you well, and really to
esteem you without giving way to the least degree of base servility.
"S. NEWTON."
This letter, courteous and moderate as is its -tone, does
not appear to -have satisfied Godwin. His reply is lost, but
the tenor of it is sufficiently clear from Newton's second
letter:
The Same to the Same.
"Dec. 14th, I793.
"Since, Sir, you have been so condescending as to favour me
with another epistle, I think it, from our former connection, my
duty (and I annex a real meaning to the term) to reply with all
due respect, but with all simplicity and integrity. I have often
said that there might be a volume collected from your work which
would make, in my opinion, one of the most valuable political
systems that I ever perused, and, as far as justice, equality, and
liberty are recommended in it, I heartily wish the motives and
arguments were impressed upon the heart of every human being,
particularly on the rich, the powerful, and the learned. Viewing
it altogether, I o-wn it is a wonderful production; but I must confess that it has such a cast of character in it from its author, that




NEWTON ON JOHNSON AND HUME.


87


I am inclined to think I should have known it to have been yours,
had not your name stood in the title page.
"I never affected the reputation of a philosopher, nor have I
ever courted the countenance and recommendations of the
reputed Literate; but I have for a number of years thought for
myself, read productions on all sides of religious and political
questions, and been very particular in my observations on the
associations, habits, and character of my species.  The result
of my observations has been this:-Two sets of men have
appeared to my view which I wish not to imitate.  The one is
composed of those who seek popularity, reputation, and interest
by embracing the most fashionable systems in the religion and
policy of the age, and by following the esteemed great with a sort'
of implicit confidence and submission. I suspect these have no
genuine sincerity. The other set is composed of those who affect
in everything singularity, who delight in contradiction, whose fort
is objection, whose aristocracy is dictation, and whose pride is that
of superior genius, accuracy, and judgment to all others. These
may boast of sincerity, and treat the bulk of mankind as the
swinish multitude who are not capable or worthy of examining and
judging on the subject of religion and policy with themselves.
In this spirit there is something in my view truly despicable; yea,
I smile at a Johnson, or a Hume, when they assume the air of
the latter set of men, and as I conceive resentment and indignation virtues, if properly, that is proportionably directed against vice
and usurpation, without wishing to injure persons, I think myself
justified by immutable justice, in allowing these sensations to pass
in my mind. Yes, I feel not any remorse for indulging them,
though I have as firm a belief as you can have in the most certain
and indissoluble connection between moral causes and effects.
But I use not the word necessarian because I think the philosophers who have adopted it are guilty of a vulgar error, in appropriating a word to a sense contrary to its general acceptation.
"That Goliath of critical and moral censure, Johnson, would,
perhaps, have thought me a most seditious and dangerous Sectary
for rejecting all establishments of religion, and for seriously




88


88  ILLIAM GODWIN.


ridiculing every order of priests constituted-by the reigning powers.
Hume would have deemed me a servile, implicit, narrow soul, for
believing a religion which was embraced by my parents, though I
think I have as fairly examined it as any man in the island. But
I laugh at his conceit, and pity his prejudices, guessing, from what
I know of his life, how his associations of ideas were formed; for
as a philosopher pretending to the most accurate and deep investigations, he should have accounted for this phenomenon, how
the books containing the Hebrew and Christian systems of
religion came to be published.  If they were forgeries, who were
their authors, and what their motives and ends in publishing such
singular schemes, so different from all the fine conceptions and
sublime notions of all politicians and philosophers that ever
existed? I can resolve questions of this sort with regard to the
Coran, and every other pretended revelation from God, but I
never saw this done with respect to the Bible.
" Our associations of thought, and habits of -mind are so totally
different, that it is no wonder we should determine very oppositely
one to the other on many subjects, and therefore you will not be
surprised if I should affirm, as I do with -the greatest sincerity;
the evidence for the being of a God from analogy, or arguing
from the effect to the cause, and of a future state from our desires,
and from the supposed justice of the divine government, does not
strike my mind so forcibly, nor afford it so much satisfaction as
that which it is impressed with, for the undoubted truth of the
Hebrew and Christian religions.  You may think I have not
examined as fairly and impartially as you have done. I must
think the same of you. Here your right to judge is the same As
mine. Here is the equality I would maintain. And if you think
you have far superior genius, that is a point I cannot dispute with you. Those of this character I have found committing
as many blunders, and run into as many extravagant absurdities as
any of more moderate abilities. In short, Mr Godwin, my views
of mankind, the little knowledge I have of myself, the account my
religion gives me of man, which I find confirmed by fact, prevent
my boasting with an aristocratical air of any superior talents, lead




SENSITIVENESS TO CRITICISM 8.


89


me to think I am not so great a man as I once thought myself to
be, and compel me so conscientiously to impress it in your thoughts,
that you and I, and all mankind are more upon an equality with
respect to a capacity for the most certain and useful knowledge in
politics, morals, and religion than you are perhaps in the habit of
admitting. As your friend really thought, so he has discharged
his duty, in wishing to convince you of it, thinking this to be
the greatest friendship without servility or prejudice."
With this letter, as was not unnatural, ended all intercourse between the Rev. Samuel Newton, and his distinguished but unorthodox pupil. There appears in this
correspondence Godwin's extreme sensitiveness to criticism, which rendered so much of his intercourse with his
friends subject to those unfortunate demeles of which his
journals speak so often. The following note, written by
Godwin, and the letter from Marshal in reference to the
same affair belong to the same year, and illustrate in an
amusing way this extreme touchiness, though it must be
admitted that the friendly critic seems to have pushed his
candour to its furthest bounds.
" When I had written nearly three-fourths of the first volume of
Caleb Williams, I was prevailed on, with much reluctance by the
importunity of a very old friend, to entrust him with the perusal of
my manuscript. In three days he returned it to me with a note
nearly in these words:-' If you have the smallest regard for your
own reputation or interest, you will immediately put the enclosed
papers in the fire. I was strongly tempted to have done this
friendly office for you, but that I recollected, I had placed
myself under a promise to return them.' It is hardly necessary to
say that the receipt of this note was the means of disturbing me.
It was three days before I fully recovered my elasticity and
fervent tone of mind required for the prosecution of my work."




90


WILLIAM GOD WIN.


J-ames Marshal to William Godwin.
"Friday, Afay, 3, '93.
"I enclose you three guineas; the rest you shall have very
shortly. I take this opportunity of saying a word or two on the
affair of Tuesday. It was not I, but somebody else, who exhibited
marks of intoxication, or more properly of insanity-for upon no
principle of sound intellect is it to be accounted for. I came like
a rational being, from motives of the purest kind, to discharge
what I believed to be a duty. But Sir Fretful was in a humour to
hear nothing but commendation, and tyrant Procrustes would
admit no duty in another of which he should himself be the
object, and which did not square precisely with his own ideas.
Yet this is a philosopher teaching the firm discharge of duty to
mankind!   Whip me such philosophers, whose precepts and
practice are eternally at variance.
"So far from being told twenty times, previous to reading the
MS., that I was not to give my opinion, I do not remember being
once told it; but had it been so, I do not see that it ought at all
to have altered my conduct.
"One word respecting the MS. itself, and I have done. The
incidents are ill chosen; the characters unnatural, distorted; the
phraseology intended to mark the humorous ones inappropriate;
the style uncouth; everything upon stilts; the whole uninteresting; written as a man would make a chair or a table that had
never handled a tool. I got through it, but it was as I get over a
piece of ploughed-up ground, with labour and toil. By the way,
judging from the work in question, one might suppose some minds
not to be unlike a piece of ground. Having produced a rich crop,
it must lie fallow for a season, that it may gain sufficient vigour for
a new crop. You were speaking for a motto for this work-the
best motto in my opinion would be a rHie jacet; for depend. upon
it, the world will suppose you to be exhausted; or rather what a
few only think at present, will become a general opinion, that the
Hercules you have fathered is not of your begetting.




COOPER A STROLLING PLA YER.


91


" Your note to me is written to justify yourself from a charge of
weakness; and it contains an additional confirmation of that
weakness. The meaning of it is that if I cannot have the forbearance to avoid mentioning a syllable or breathing a censure upon.
this 'work of works,' I must not approach you till it be finished.
Fie, fie! what name does this deserve?
"JAS. MARSHAL."
It is pleasant to hear of Tom Cooper again, whose relations with Godwin were now those of a steady and grateful
friendship. The letters from him, which conclude the
correspondence for this year, show how Godwin's stern
training had at least enabled him to keep courage and a
stout heart under difficulties. Undeterred by his trip to
the North in Kemble's company, he had fairly taken up
the profession of an actor, and had joined a company of
strollers on their provincial tour.
Thomas Cooper to Wtilliam Godwin.
"PORTSMOUTH, March 1, '93.
"Well, here I am! 'My fortune smiles and gives me all that I
dare ask!' I called on Mr Collins this morning. He received
me very politely, desired me to call on him at three o'clock, and
he would go over with me to the theatre. Mrs C. proposed an
amendment, that I should dine with them, and go after dinner.
So I did. Mr Collins was very pleased with my rehearsal. I
walked with their son to a lodging which he knew. When I went
out of the room Mrs C. said that she should expect me back to
tea. To tea back I came, having agreed for a remarkably nice
room at 9s. a week; and now I am writing in their apartment,
which is the reason for my writing so laconically.
"Inform my mother, if you can, of what I write. Inform Mr
Marshal that I play for the first time on Monday the 4th inst. If




92


WILLIAM GOD WIN.


he have a mind to come down, I can procure him an order. I
can write no more. I am obliged thus to write. If I did not, I
should be unable to write till Monday.
"My next letter shall keep up better appearances.
"THOMAS COOPER."
The Same to the Same.
"PORTSMOUTH, Iarch II, '93.
"I gave my mother all the information you require in the letter
I sent yesterday, and I thought that might save the additional
trouble and expense of postage, for I have a great deal to do.
Though I play seldom, whenever I play I have to study the
character; but as necessary information cannot in London be
conveyed half a mile, I will with pleasure endeavour to do it from
seventy miles' distance. You desired to be acquainted with some
of the gentlemen of the company. Their names are as follows:Tyler, Curtis, Stanewix, Gill, Kelly, Woolley, Baker, Davies,
Barrett; Mesdames Tyler, Maxfield, Kelly, Davies, Collins,
Balls, and Lings. Mr Tyler is the chief singer, and has ~i, ius.
6d. salary a week. He plays, besides, in middling parts, is goodnatured and rather formal, and about thirty-eight years of age.
Mr Curtis is a kind of pompous fool, never seems to attempt anything in acting, stands always in one position, and as erect as if he
had a spit thrust through him.  Mr Gill is-nobody.    Mr
Stanewix is a young beginner-he has been but nine months on
the stage. I do not well know what to make of him. His understanding is above mediocrity, but I believe he will never be a
good actor. He plays French parts and fops. Mr Maxfield is
the tragedy hero. It so happened that he did not till last night
play one of his best castes, when he played' George Barnwell' with
some merit; but though this man is their Richard III., their
Essex, &c., such is the nature of this company that last night,
after playing 'George Barnwell,' he went on as a sailor in 'Captain
Cook,' without a word to say, or anything to do. Kelly is a Jack
in all parts-a young man who would have merit in some caste, if




DANGER FROM PRESS-GANG.


93


he did not undertake all. Woolley, Baker, and Davies are low
comedy men, and all have an equal and middling share of merit.
Perhaps Woolley is the best. Barrett is the auxiliary to the company in the same manner as Holman was, but in my mind a very
bad actor. He is about forty-seven years of age, plays genteel
comedy, Plune, Kerger, Lord Townley, &c. He has been a manager
somewhere, played 'Don Juan' at the Royalty, and is six foot high.
He is a wit, but of all the dull who professthat character, I never
knew a duller. I will give a specimen. Somebody asked whether
Mrs Inchbald's play was cast. Another replied that if he had the
direction of it, it would be cast into the fire. 'Then;' rejoined
Barrett, 'it would be an outcast.' He was complaining one day of
a dilemma to which he was reduced. ' I am in a damned scrape;
I almost think I am a fiddle, I am in such a scrape,' running his
stick backwards and forwards across his arm by way of illustration.
When Mrs Davies, Mrs Laing, and Mrs Rivers are mentioned, I
have mentioned all the women who are not non-entities. I have,
since I wrote last, played Worthy and Philip in' The Brothers.'
The salary is only I5s. a week, not to me only, but to everybody
except Tyler and Barrett. Next week is Passion Week, during
which there are no plays, and no pay.
"THOMAS COOPER.
"I expect every day to be pressed, and neither appearance nor
friends can save me. Masters of houses have been taken away.
I know a common sailor who sometime ago was a player."
The Same to the Same.
"WINCHESTER, 7u/y I3, '93.
"You say in your last letter that you are obliged to adopt my
mode of correspondence. I agree with you that your mode would
be far preferable; but from  my situation, it is impossible to
adopt it.
"Since about June Ioth we have travelled from Portsmouth to
Chichester; from thence, after ten days, back to Portsmouth, and




94


WILLIAMI GOD WIN.


having stayed there four days, have taken our departure for
Winchester, where we have now been about a fortnight, and
our managers think of dissolving the company till we play at
Southampton, which will be at the end of this month. In all
our journeys we bear our own expenses, and they have allowed
nothing extra for our continual removings. We are paid only
nightly. In this town our salary is only 4s. a-night. This last
week we have only played once, so that we are going to receive
this morning a shilling a-head; and if we are not dismissed till
Southampton, there is no probability of our playing more than
once in that town, which I suppose will be upwards of a fortnight.
From the above circumstances you may conclude that we are all
chop-fallen. It is your maxim that a little wholesome adversity is
a very good thing for a young man to encounter, so that I trust
you will give me credit for a little wisdom: that a few of the dregs
of folly are purged away by the purifying physic of bread and
water. You may expect, if we are dismissed, to see me in London
in a few days, towards the latter end of next week. So much for
that subject. Mr Quicke was with us at Chichester, and the four
days at Portsmouth. He is a very pleasant man in company, and
very familiar. We expect Incledon at Southampton, and I believe
Holman, but of him I am not certain.
"I received a day or two ago a very strange letter from my
sister about her situation. A kind of despondency runs throughout it. Has she written to you in the same style lately? I
returned a pretty sharp answer immediately, which I hope will
cure her of her disorder, whatever it is. You have never informed
me anything of your affairs-how your book sells, whether you
like your way of living, &c.
" Write to me as soon as convenient; but observe that I shall
perhaps not be here long. I am in perfect health, as I hope this
will find you.                             T. COOPER."




A FORGETFUL ACTOR.


95


The Same to the Same.
"WINCHESTER,.idy 19, 1793.
" ' It must be so. O guts, ye reason well,
Else whence those painful gripes, those inward workings,
This craving after something good to eat?
'Why shrinks the belly
To the back bone, and 'tween leaves no vacuum?
'Tis this damned nothing that comimoves within.
'Tis starving's self that stares us in the face
And indicates non-entity to man.'
"I am just come from the theatre, where we dismissed two
from the theatre and one from the pit.
" I shall not come to London after all. We have played once
this week, having got a bespeak from the Marquis of Buckingham:
we are to open at Southampton on Monday week, so that it would
not be worth while to come for so short a space; besides that, our
managers mean to open their doors next week, as the week
before.
"There are a few mistakes in your letter. When I say that my
situation renders impracticable a diligent correspondence, I did
not mean that it has that effect at present, for if I did, my actions
would belie my words; but that it had in our frequent movings,
and during the benefit time at Portsmouth. You are to write to
me at full, as you need not expect to see me. In the next paragraph you say, ' Not a word about your health,' but that's a mistake, for the last words of my letter are, 'I am in perfect health,
as I hope this will find you;' but I suppose you had not patience
to get through my bad handwriting.
"I'll now relate a theatrical incident. George Bamwell was
played: you recollect that the uncle comes on, and makes a
soliloquy on death. The uncle had not, or did not choose to
have leisure to learn the soliloquy, but thought, if he carried on a
book of the play, that he might read it. He did not reflect that
the stage would be darkened, and when he looked in the book, he
found he could not read.  He recollected the first words; '0




96


WILLIAM GOD WIN.


death ' and repeated them three or four times in great agitation,
calling at the same time for George Barnwell to come and kill
him, but George was laughing so heartily behind the scenes that
for some time he could not.relieve his uncle, and his uncle said no
more than 'O death-do-do '-till his nephew came and stabbed
him, and laughed at him in the agonies of death.
"I have just received information that the Coldstream is all
killed except fifteen, and that the Duke is in the number of the
slain. Among the rest of the information you are to give me, let
the sale of your pamphlet and the title be included-what Mr
Holcroft has lately written-what Mr Marshall is about. In
short, tell me something about everybody. Do you know anything concerning the Dysons now?
"Remember me to all my acquaintance in London: say something for me to each, what you shall judge proper, just the same
as if I had written.                       T. COOPER."
The Same to the Same.
"SOUTHAMPTON, Oct. 18, 1793.
"Glory be to Thee, O God, for all the manifold goods which
day after day Thou bestowest upon me! Would you believe it?
I have had a benefit-such a benefit-a kind of Irish one, by which
I have lost upwards of six pounds-at least I remain that much
indebted to our managers. How strange, how despicable are the
dispositions of tyrants! The morning after my night, this Davies
came to me to do something for him in a pantomime which is performed to-night for his benefit. I readily consented. Things have
turned out that I am not of much consequence to him to-night, and
this morning, instead of the smiling, smirking face of yesterday, he
addressed me with a stiff Hibernian frown-' Mr Cooper, I want
some money-I must have money. I'll not pay the salaries, sir,
till you have paid me. Blood, sir, why am I to pay money out of
my own pocket?' The absent politician, too, has attempted to
speak to me. 'Mr Tyler, have you heard any news to-day?  Oh,
Mr Cooper, about your night (a pause). I have not seen the Star




AN A CTOR'S DIFFICUL TIES.


97


to-day. Sir, walk this way, if you please.' I was going to follow
but Mrs Somebody met him, and he immediately began to settle
the business of the nation. He dared imagine that it was for me
to wait his pleasure. About half-an-hour afterwards he repeated
his request, and I told him I was engaged.
"The usual method of payment in cases of deficiency of the
changes is by stopping 3s. or 4s. per week out of the salary; but
on account of my great deficiency, he says he will stop the whole
week's salary until it is paid. In case he attempts it, it is my
present intention to leave him immediately, not secretly. No;
what I dare do, I dare do openly. If he pursues other steps, I
have arrived at such a happy disregard of my personal. affairs, that
it will scarcely give me a moment's concern.
" You will wonder, perhaps, how I came to fail so much. There
are three or four sufficient reasons. The first is, that the interest
of a man of long standing and unusual acquaintance carries
everything before it; next, that though the other weak interests
are supremely blessed with the happy gifts of fawning servility,
yet I have not so much of the spaniel about me; I cannot take
my hat off to the great man's servant. If I were to lose  5~0 and
fifty benefits, I cannot bow to flatter the man I despise. The
third was that I was between two fires-one manager's daughter
before, the other manager's wife after me.
" I now want you or Mrs Holcroft to inform me whether Mr H.
himself spoke to Mrs Wood relative to an engagement for me with
her husband; or if not, who was it.       "T. COOPER."
The Same to the Same.
"SOUTHAMPTON, 1ov. 2, '93.
"If there were an appearance of reserve in my letters, relative
to my present situation, it could be only an appearance; for I
have not, nor have I ever had, the least wish to conceal anything.
If I did not expatiate at large on the subject, it was because I had
no desire to excite any man's compassion; for I feel no compassion for myself; or in other words, I am quite indifferent about it,
I.


I.


G




98


WtILLIAM3 GOD WIN.


as I have told you before. I have lived partly upon a little money
which I had saved, and partly upon credit, which has involved me
in debt near ~2. But I shall considerably decrease it by means
of about a guinea, which I got last night, by joining with two
others who had failed, and buying a bad stock-night of the managers at an under-price. This, with the loan of a guinea, which
you are so kind as to offer me, will pretty well bring me about, so
that I shall probably still remain with Messrs C. and D., if they
promise to allow me a salary after this town, and will pay the bill
for printing the tickets for my benefit. But if he refuses, my
former resolution will remain unbroken.  You may depend on
seeing me in London very soon-how soon will in some measure
depend on Mr Davies's acceptance or rejection of my proposals.
If he refuse, I shall not stay to play for his benefit. At all events,
you will see me in less than a fortnight.
" If you can oblige me with this guinea, direct to me in any
small parcel, at Mr Ling's, 15 Butcher Row, and send it by Mr
Cox's coach, which sets out every morning from the Saracen's
Head, Snow Hill.
"When I spoke relative to the School for Arrogance to Mr
Davies, he said, 'If Mr Holcroft had really been inclined to serve
me, he certainly could not have refused so small a favour.' I
smiled within myself at the confined ideas of a selfish man.
"I should be glad if you would not make it public that I am
coming to town. 'Tis, I grant, a childish wish, but it would be a
pleasure to surprise my friends. Though childish, it is innocent,
and as it would be a pleasure, I hope it will be a sufficient reason
with you to comply with my request.
T. COOPER.




CHAPTER V.
GOD WIN'S WORKS AND POLITICS. 1783-r794.
WITH the publication of "Political Justice" Godwin first
became known as an author, and appeared before the world
under his own name, except so far as the " Sketches of
History" were an exception.
The six sermons which bear that wholly inappropriate
title are on the characters of Aaron, Hazael and Jesusfour sermons being devoted to the last. They are fair
specimens of Nonconformist pulpit oratory, and, with the
exception of one or two sentences, are remarkable chiefly for
the extreme lucidity of style. Then, as always, it was impossible to mistake Godwin's meaning. Simple and straightforward, his language rose sometimes to a rare eloquence,
not because he desired it, or 'valued rhetoric for its own
sake, but because the words he used were the fittest to
clothe his most intimate convictions, and therefore appealed
to the hearts of other men.  An early and a diligent
student of French literature, there is something in his own
style of the characteristics of the better French writers, where
the thoughts are seen through rather than in the language,
like pebbles in a deep well, and invested with a beauty
beyond their own.
Other points for which the Sermons are noticeable are
these. Writing nominally as a strong Calvinist, and believing himself to uphold the absolute sovereignty of God,
he yet strikes a note which, though he knew it not, was
dissonant to all the rest.  "God himself," he says in




100


WILLIAM GODWIN.


Sermon I., "God himself has no right to be a tyrant."
Of this passage the English Review, in a very favourable
article, says: "In some instances his vivacity transports
him beyond the bounds of decorum." It was the enunciation of a principle from which he was afterwards to draw
unexpected conclusions.
Again, writing as an orthodox believer, he no doubt
thought that he held that Jesus Christ was God, and by
that fact different from all men, not to be compared
or placed on the same level with them.   But at the
bottom of his mind was the feeling that if Jesus were to be
loved and venerated, it was not as God, but for his likeness
to, and his oneness with, humanity. And this found expression in the sentence which ends the Sermon on the
Resignation of Aaron.
"May we all of us exemplify the quietness of an Aaron, and
the unresentful mildness of a redeemer, that so we may be united
with these great and illustrious characters for ever hereafter."
Little can here be said of the three novels which issued
in such rapid succession from Godwin's brain and pen
during the years 1783-4- "Damon and Delia," "The
Italian Letters," and " Imogen; a Pastoral Romance," professing to be a translation from an old Welsh MS. These
appear to have vanished into nothingness as well as forgetfulness, and the most diligent researches have as yet
obtained only slight indications that once they were
deemed interesting.  But this need scarcely be regretted.
The emotional part of Godwin's nature had never as yet
been stirred, while he had gained no such experience of life
as was his when he wrote " Caleb Williams."
It is, however, a real misfortune that much else which
Godwin wrote at this date is buried in the pages -of reviews,




THE A NNUA L REGIS TER..


IOI


some of them extinct and hard to discover, and some, like
the older volumes of the Annual Register, reposing dusty,
worm-eaten, and seldom handled, on the more inaccessible shelves of libraries. The sketch of English History
which Godwin contributed to the Anniual Register from
1785 onward is well worthy to stand alone and to live. It
is entitled "The History of Knowledge, Learning, and
Taste in Great Britain," and the portion contributed by
him begins with the reign of Henry VII. In addition
to his invariable clearness and method in the grouping
and presentation of his facts, there is much curious
learning and research displayed, much wide, reading,
sympathy with art, keen power of criticism, and a kindly
toleration for views the most opposed to his own. It may
be suspected that the apparent research of some of his
contemporaries is really Godwin's research alone. It is
scarcely likely that he, Charles Lamb, and Coleridge were
all reading the Schoolmen at the same time, all picking
out the same absurd questions from Albertus Magnus and
Thomas Aquinas! yet there is a most suspicious resemblance in the selections made by all three, ending with the
enquiry whether a million of angels might not sit upon a
needle's point; and these selections certainly appeared first
in the Al nnual Register.
The paragraphs in which the Schoolmen and their
influence are dismissed after a fairly full account may serve
to show the calm and judicial tone of the writer, and the
work done for the Annual Register is an adequate specimen of the manner in which he performed the whole of that
class of work, anonymous, underpaid, and almost unnoticed.
" With all the misapplication of their talents, the school divines
and philosophers 'were many of them  great men.  Thomas
~ l,*.,.,...




1-02


WILLIAMZ, GOD WVIN.


Aquinas in particular had extraordinary abilities which, if they
had been properly directed, might have rendered him very useful
to mankind. Nor is it to be imagined that everything in him is
trifling and ridiculous.  There are, it is believed, parts of his
works which might even now be read with pleasure and advantage.
"So far as it is an honour to have produced the Schoolmen
our own country had its full share in that honour. Not to mention Lanfranc and Anselm, Duns Scotus was a Briton, probably
born in Scotland, and William  Occam was an Englishman.
Alexander Hales, John Baconthorpe, Thomas Bradwardine, and
a large list of names might be produced, if it were necessary to
rescue them from the oblivion in which they have long slept."New Annual Register, 1786, p. viii.
Though, however, the "Sketches of History" were the
firstfruits of Godwin's pen, his first published work was the
"(Life of Lord Chatham."    It was issued anonymously,
probably because it was a first effort, and its author was
as yet uncertain of his own powers, as well as his own
opinions; and even up to the date at which these lines
are written, it stands in the British Museum catalogue with
a query as to whether it is really Godwin's.
The book is rare, but, for those who can lay hands on it
thoroughly worth reading in itself, and also as showing how
the commanding figure of the great tory statesman drew
the enthusiastic admiration of one who was so soon to
startle his contemporaries, by asserting in "Political Justice"
that all government whatever was an infringement of the
Rights of Man. A few sentences of the concluding chapter
may be given.
"Like the first king of the Jews, he walks, elevated by the
head above his compatriots, who seem as they were born his subjects. Men of genius and attraction, a Carteret, a Townshend,
and 1 had almost said, a Mansfield, however pleasing in a limited




POLITICAL JUSTICE.


103


view, appear evidently in this comparison to shrink into narrower
dimensions, and walk a humbler circle. All that deserves to
arrest the attention in taking a general survey of the age in which
he lived is comprised in the history of Chatham.
" No character ever bore the more undisputed stamp of originality. Unresembled and himself, he was not born to accommodate
to the genius of his age. While all around him were depressed
by the uniformity of fashion, or the contagion of venality, he stood
aloof. He consulted no judgment but his own, and he acted from
the unstained dictates of a comprehensive soul. He loved fame
too much, but it was the weakness of a noble mind. He loved
power too much, but it was power of a generous strain. And he
had passions that had nothing selfish in their texture. No spirit
ever burned with a purer flame of patriotism."
Life of Chatham, pp. 287, 288.
These writings were, however, one and all, provisional
and preparatory.   They were soon forgotten; the fate,
with the rarest exceptions, of all anonymous writing.  But
the publication of" Political Justice " marked an epoch in
English thought.   It was coincident with the rise of a
school of philosophic radicals, and   in large measure
placed 'in clear words the views of that school, on
many, though perhaps not all, of the subjects treated.
There were, however, very few who carried out logical con-I
elusions so consistently and unshrinkingly as Godwin. He t
alone formulated, among his political judgments, the ex- }
treme severity of social principles, the denial of all play to
feeling and affection, which Fawcet and Holcroft had more
loosely held as matters for informal discussion.
By the words "Political Justice," the author meant "the
adoption of any principle of morality and truth into the
practice of a community," Vol. I. p. I9, and the book. was
therefore an enquiry into the principles of society, of govern



104


W'ILLIAMII GOD WIN.


ment, and of morals. The first volume deals with principles
only; the second with the mode in which those principles
would exhibit themselves in politics and in society.
Twelve years before he wrote his preface, that is, when
living under the influence of Mr Frederic Norman at Stowmarket, Godwin "became satisfied that monarchy was a
species of government unavoidably corrupt," Vol. I. p. viii.
The ideas suggested by the French Revolution induced
him to desire a government of the simplest construction,
and he gradually became aware that " government, by its
very nature, counteracts the improvement of original mind,'
Vol. I. p. x. Believing in the perfectibility of the race, that
there are no innate principles, and therefore no original
propensity to evil, he considered that "our virtues and our
vices may be traced to the incidents which make the history
of our lives, and if these incidents could be divested of
every improper tendency, vice would be extirpated from
the world," Vol. I. p. 18. Education, literature, and political justice "are three principal causes by which the human
mind is advanced towards a state of perfection," Vol. I.
p. I9; hence what is really required is that the truth
should be placed before men, and free discussion allowed;
they would then, in the widest sense of the words, "know
the truth, and the truth would make them free." Hence
all control of man by man is more or less intolerable,
and the day will come when each man, doing what
seems right in his own eyes, will also be doing what is
in fact best for the community, becaus-e all will be
guided by principles of pure reason. But all was to be
done by calm discussion, and matured change resulting
from discussion.  Hence, while Godwin thoroughly approved of the philosophic schemes of the precursors of the
Revolution, he was as far removed as Burke himself from




POSITION OF THE IWORK I.N LITERATURE.      o05
agreeing with the way in which they were carried into/
practical life, and he strongly disapproved of the mode in!
which some English politicians of his own school from time
to time endeavoured to hasten the course of events. He
says, in a note to his first chapter, that the foregoing " arguments are for the most part an abstract, the direct ones
from Locke on the 'Human Understanding,' thos6 which
relate to experience from Hartley's 'Observations on Man,'
and those respecting education from the 'Emile' of J. J.
Rousseau." In these views he never wavered, and his life
was thoroughly consistent. He never allowed himself to be
converted to the expediency of giving and taking in politics,
or to see that principles caan be applied to facts only by losing
a portion of their gloss and of their truth. He never 'could
have been a worker on the active stage of life.  But he
was none the less a motive power behind the workers, and
"Politi-cal Justice" may take its place with the "Speech
for Unlicensed Printing," the "Essay on Education," and
"Emile," among the unseen levers which have moved the
changes of the times.
The first edition of the book-to which all references
are made —so well deserves reading for its own sake, even
at this date, that no exhaustive extracts -need here be
given: it is enough to describe the scope of the book.
But some points in which the writer touched on matters
still under discussion, and full of interest for us, may yet
detain us awhile. In the chapter on the Perfectibility
of Man, entitled "Human Inventions capable of perpetual improvement," Godwin found himself face to face
with the problem of the origin of language. It would be
difficult. even now to put forward the interjectional, and
probably sound theory on this subject more clearly and
excellently than is here done:



0o6


WILLIAM GOD VWIN.


(Its beginning was probably from those involuntary cries which
infants, for example, are found to utter in the earliest stages of
their existence, and which, previously to the idea of exciting pity
or procuring assistance, spontaneously arise from the operation of
pain upon our animal frame. These cries, when actually uttered,
become a subject of perception to hini by whom they are uttered,
and being observed to be constantly associated with certain preliminary impressions, and to excite the idea of those impressions
in the hearer, may afterwards be repeated from reflection, and the
desire of relief. Eager desire to communicate any information to
another will also prompt us to utter some simple sound for the
purpose of exciting attention. This sound will probably frequently
recur to organs unpractised to variety, and will at length stand as
it were by convention for the information intended to be conveyed.
But the distance is extreme from those simple modes of communication which we possess in common with some of the inferior
animals, to all the analysis and abstraction which languages
require."-Vol. I., p. 45.
Again, when discussing the effect that climate and other
physical influences have on the character of man, Godwin
recognised in the frankest way the animal nature which can
thus be affected, even while he combats the view that man
is unable to triumph over those physical environments.
"' Breed, for example, appears to be of unquestionable importance to the character and qualifications of horses and dogs.
Why should we not suppose this or certain other brute and occult
causes to be equally efficacious in the case of men? How comes
it that the races of animals perhaps never degenerate if carefully
cultivated, at the same time that we have no security against the
wisest philosopher's begetting a dunce?'
" I answer that the existence of physical causes cannot be controverted. In the case of man, their efficacy is swallowed up in
the superior importance of reflection and science. In animals,
on the contrary, they are left almost alone. If a race of negroes
were taken, and maintained each man from his infancy, except so




VIEW V OF J USTICE.


I07


far as was necessary for the propagation of the species, in solitude;
or even if they were excluded from an acquaintance with the im
provements and imaginations of their ancestors, though permitted
the society of each other, the operation of breed might perhaps be
rendered as conspicuous among them as in the different classes of
horses and dogs. But the ideas they would otherwise receive
from their parents and civilized or half civilized neighbours would
be innumerable, and if the precautions above mentioned were unobserved, all parallel between the two cases would cease."Vol. I., pp. 58, 59.
It was, of course, impossible that the writer of the above
should, in the then state of science, be aware how large a
part exterior causes play in influencing the breeds of man,
nor the vast time in which such causes may have been at
work; but the fact that the above sentences could not be
written now, by no means detracts from their value then.
So logical and uncompromising a thinker as Godwin, so
plain spoken and unequivocal a writer, could not go far in
the discussion of abstract questions without coming into
collision with received opinions. The chapter on justice is
interesting, as showing how largely he was still under the
influence of Fawcet, and Fawcet's teacher, Jonathan Edwards.  He says:"Justice is a rule of conduct originating in the connection of
one percipient being with another. A comprehensive maxim
which has been laid down upon the subject is 'that we should
love our neighbour as ourselves.' But this maxim, though possessing considerable merit as a popular principle, is not modelled
with the strictness of philosophical accuracy.
"In a loose and general view I and my neighbour are both of
us men, and of consequence entitled to equal attention; but in
reality it is probable that one of us is a being of more worth and
importance than the other. A man is of more worth than a beast,
because, being possessed of higher faculties, he is capable of a




108


WILLIAM GOD WJiV.


more refined and generous happiness. In the same manner the
illustrious Archbishop of Cambray was of more worth than his
chambermaid, and there are few of- us who would hesitate to pronounce, if his palace were in flames, and the life of only one
of them could be preserved, which of the two ought to be preferred.
"Supposing I had been myself the chambermaid, I ought to
have chosen to die rather than that Fenelon should have died.
The life of Fenelon was really preferable to that of the chambermaid. But understanding is the faculty that perceives the truth
of this and similar propositions, and justice is the principle that
regulates my conduct accordingly. It would have been just in
-the chambermaid to have preferred the Archbishop to herself.
To have done otherwise would have been a breach of justice.
"Supposing the chambermaid to have been my wife, my mother,
or my benefactor, this would not alter the truth of the proposition.
The life of Fenelon would still be more valuable than that of the
chambermaid, and justice, pure unadulterated justice, would still
have preferred that which was most valuable. Justice would have
taught me to save the life of Fenelon at the expense of the other.
What magic is there in the pronoun ' my' to overturn the decisions of everlasting truth? My wife or my mother may be a fool
or a prostitute, malicious, lying, or dishonest. If they be, of what
consequence is it that they are mine?
"'But my mother endured for me the pains of childbearing,
and nourished me in the helplessness of infancy.' When she first
subjected herself to the necessity of these cares, she was probably
influenced by no particular motives of benevolence to her future
offspring. Every voluntary benefit, however, entitles the bestower
to some kindness and retribution.  But why so?  Because a
voluntary benefit is an evidence of benevolent intention, that is of
virtue. It is the disposition of the mind, not the external action
that entitles to respect. But the merit of this disposition is equal
whether the benefit was conferred upon me or upon another. I
and another man cannot both be right in preferring our own indi



A RG UMIENTS A GAINST PUNISHMENTS.


log


vidual benefactor, for- no man can be at the same time both better
and worse than his neighbour.  My benefactor ought to be
esteemed, not because he bestowed a benefit on me, but because
he bestowed it upon a human being. His desert will be in exact
proportion to the degree in which that human being, was worthy of
the distinction conferred....  Gratitude therefore... is no part
either of justice or virtue. By gratitude I understand a sentiment
which would lead me to prefer one man to another from some
other consideration than that of his superior usefulness or worth;
that is which would make something true to me (for example this
preferableness), which cannot be true to another man, and is not
true in itself."-Vol. I., p. 84.
Much more, however, was to come which ran still more
counter to the feelings of society. The propriety of allowing or not allowing play to the affections might seem. to
most persons a purely abstract question. But no abstract
speculation was advanced when in a day in which the
penal code was still extremely severe Godwin argued
gravely against all punishments, not only that of death.
He considered that the only true end of punishment is
correction-a proposition which may well be disputedand that the only proper way of conveying to any understanding a truth of which it is ignorant, or enforcing a
truth imperfectly held, is by an appeal to reason. And as
no two men were ever guilty of the same crime, positive
law was an evil in that it levels all characters and tramples
on all distinctions.
Yet, however faulty might the law be, however vicious
the state of society, however tyrannical the government
enforcing the one and upholding the other, no conceivable
state of things would justify any violent change, plot or
conspiracy, still less tyrannicide or the execution of the
malefactor to the State, for




I IO


10ILLLIAM. GOD WI.


" If the attempt prove abortive it renders the tyrant ten times
more bloody, ferocious, and cruel than before. If it succeed and
the tyranny be restored, it produces the same effect on his successors. In the climate of despotism some solitary virtues may spring
up but in the midst of plots and conspiracies there is neither truth
nor confidence, nor love nor humanity."-Vol. I., p. 228.
In all this Godwin was in fact ignoring what every
statesman must face, and what history as yet has ever
proved true, that to carry any principle into practical life
some part of the principle must of necessity be lost, that
there is no progress whatever without attendant circumstances which fall hard on some of the community. Godwin approved the French Revolution so long as he had to
consider only the problems presented to him by Rousseau,
and the reforms urged by Turgot; he shrank not only from
the violence of the Terror, but even from the political
associations which sought to 'mature possible changes
before they were openly suggested, and from such healthy
popular risings as the destruction of the Bastille.
Before passing from the strictly theoretical portion of the
work, whence the foregoing extracts, have been taken,
Godwin paused in order to consider those general principles
of the human mind, which were most intimately- connected
with his subject.  None of these principles seemed of
greater moment than that which affirms that all. actions are
necessary. The chapters on the doctrine of necessity are
among the most interesting and lucid in the whole book,
nor is the interest diminished by his admission that the
substance of a large part of his arguments may be found 'in
Hume's " Enquiry concerning Human Understanding," and
in Jonathan Edwards's "Enquiry into the Freedom of the
Will." The arguments on either side of the controversy
must in any age be much the same in all the writers of




ON PROPERTY.


III


that age, and their immediate intellectual descendants, but
the clearness and precision of the words in which they are
clothed is Godwin's own.
When these principles, as laid down in the first five books,
were to be applied to existing society, Godwin came most
decidedly into collision with all opinion which was considered respectable, orderly, and religious. Not only did he
assail all government, even that then considered by the
liberal party as full of promise-the government by National
Assemblies; not only did he assail religious establishments
and tests, but property itself, and marriage, were not to
him  sacred things, apart and unassailable.   His observations on property include some suggestive hints on his
whole scheme of political justice, if, indeed, the word
"scheme" can apply in any sense to his theory of life in a
community.
"The subject of property is the key-stone that completes the
fabric of political justice. According as our ideas respecting it
are crude or correct, they will enlighten us as to the consequences
of a simple form of society witzhout government, and remove the prejudices that attach us to complexity. There is nothing that more
powerfully tends to distort ourjudgment and opinions than erroneous
notions concerning the goods of fortune. Finally, the period that
shall put an end to the system of coercion and pJunishment is intimately connected with the circumstance of property being placed
upon an equitable basis.
"To whom does any article of property, suppose a'loaf of bread,
justly belong? To him who most wants it, or to whom the possession of it will be most beneficial. Here are six men, famished with
hunger, and the loaf is, absolutely considered, capable of satisfying
the cravings of them all. Who is it that has a reasonable claim to
benefit by the qualities with which this loaf is endowed? They
are all brothers, perhaps, and the law of primogeniture bestows it




11I2


2WILLIAM GOD WIA


exclusively on the eldest. But does justice confirm this award?
The laws of different countries dispose of property in a thousand
different ways; but there can be but one way which is most conformable to reason.
"The doctrine of the injustice of accumulated property has been
the foundation of all religious morality. The object of this morality
has been to excite men by individual virtue to repair this injustice
" But while religion inculcated on mankind the impartial nature
of justice, its teachers have been too apt to treat the practice of
justice, not as a debt, which it ought to be considered, but as an
affair of spontaneous generosity and bounty. They have called on
the rich to be clement and merciful to the poor. The consequence
of this has been that the rich, when they bestowed the most
slender pittance of their enormous wealth in acts of charity, as
they were called, took merit to themselves for what they gave,
instead of considering themselves as delinquents for what they
withheld.
"Religion is in reality, in all its parts, an accommodation to the
prejudices and weaknesses of mankind. Its authors communicated
to the world as much truth as they calculated that the world would
be willing to receive. But it is time that we should lay aside the
instruction intended only for children in understanding, and contemplate the nature and principles of things.  If religion had
spoken out, and told us it was just that all men should receive the
supply of their wants, we should presently have been led to suspect
that a gratuitous distribution to be made by the rich was a very
indirect and ineffectual way of arriving at this object. The experience of all ages has taught us, that this system is productive only
of a very precarious supply. The principal object which it seems
to propose, is to place this supply in the disposal of a few, enabling
them to make a show of generosity with what is not truly their
own, and to purchase the gratitude of the poor by the payment of
a debt. It is a system of clemency and charity, instead of a system
of justice. It fills the rich with unreasonable pride by the spurious




ON MARRIAGE.


II3


denominations with Which it decorates their acts, and the poor with
servility by leading them to regard the slender comforts they obtain,
not as their incontrovertible due, but as the good pleasure and the
grace of their opulent neighbours."-Vol. II., pp. 788-798.
There is one institution which is in the minds of most
men-or at least most men would have it supposed to be
so-yet more sacred than that of property, namely, marriage. It is generally assumed that whoever would strike
a blow at this relation can only do so in a spirit of lawless
lust.  Such, however, was evidently not the case with
Godwin.   He was a man to whom        passion was unknown, who could discuss the relation of the sexes
quite apart from any special application. And this very
fact made his opinions more important than they would
otherwise have been. To marriage he at this time objected
altogether, and his objections are extremely curious, when,
and in so far as, they go beyond those superficial ones easily
made, and as easily refuted. These are such as that the
inclinations of two human beings do not coincide through
any length of time, that thoughtless and romantic youth of
each sex do not know their own minds, and are reduced to
make the best of an inevitable mistake. But the real objections felt by Godwin are those which are bound up with
the whole idea of his book. Thus" Marriage is law, and the worst of all laws. Whatever our
understandings may tell us of the person from whose connection
we should derive the greatest improvement, of the worth of one
woman, and the demerits of another, we are obliged to consider
what is law, and not what is justice.
"Add to this that marriage is an affair of property, and the
worst of all properties. So long as two human beings are forbidden by positive institution to follow the dictates of their own mind,
prejudice is alive and vigorous...
I.1H.I.


H




I114


1  WILLIAM GOD WIN.


"The abolition of marriage will be attended with no evils. We
are apt to represent it to ourselves as the harbinger of brutal lust
and depravity. But it really happens in this, as in other cases,
that the positive laws which are made to restrain -our vices irritate
and multiply them...... The intercourse of the sexes will fall
under the same system as any other species of friendship.... I
shall assiduously cultivate the intercourse of that woman whose
accomplishments shall strike me in the most powerful manner.
'But it may happen that other men will feel for her the same preference that I do.' This will create no difficulty. We may all
enjoy her conversation, and we shall all be wise enough to consider the sensual intercourse a very trivial object."-Vol. II.,
PP. 849-851.
But perhaps the most striking instance of Godwin's
thorough consistency is to be found in the fact that he
does not shrink from applying his doctrine to the case
even of the young.   It will of course follow that if in an
ideal community the child, however wise, cannot know his
own father, education will be the business, not of the family,
but of the state. But
"The task of instruction under such a form of society as that
we are contemplating will be greatly simplified and altered from
what it is at present. It will then be thought no more legitimate
to make boys slaves than to make men so. The business will hot
then be to bring forward so many adepts in the egg-shell that the
vanity of parents may be flattered in hearing their praises. No
man will then think of vexing with premature learning the feeble
and inexperienced, for fear that when they come to years of discretion they should refuse to be learned. Mind will be suffered to
expand itself in proportion as occasion and impression shall excite
it, and not be tortured and enervated by being cast in a particular
mould. No creature in human form will be expected to learn
anything but because he desires it, and has some conception of
its utility and value; and every man, in proportion to his capacity,




'POLITICAL JUSTICE' AS A PARTY MANIFESTO. I15
will be ready to furnish such general hints and comprehensive
views as will suffice for the guidance and encouragement of him
who studies from a principle of desire."-Vol. II., pp. 853, 854.
Portions of this treatise, and only portions, found ready
acceptance in those minds which were prepared to receive
them. Perhaps no one received the whole teaching of the
book. Every strong reformer, religious or political, states
general principles which must be accommodated to the
existing state of things, only those are accepted in which
he gives a voice to opinions which are " in the air," while the
originality and independence of thought gain for him the
hearing which would not be his did he merely put forward
thoughts which were struggling for expression. The book
gave cohesion and voice to philosophic Radicalism; it was
the manifesto of a school without which the milder and
more creedless liberalism of the present day had not been.
Godwin himself in after days modified his communistic
views, but his strong feeling for individualism, his hate
of all restrictions on liberty, his trust in man, his faith
in the power of reason remained; it was a manifesto
which enunciated principles modifying action even when
not wholly ruling it. Perhaps none but the founder of any
system ever believes that it can be maintained in its
entirety, and among such founders few have been so consistent -and uncompromising as Godwin.
But while his friends and admirers allowed to slip that
which they could not accept, it was far other with his
political opponents. He who was to the one party all but'
an inspired teacher, though the source of the inspiration
would have been hard to define, was to the other party a
revolutionary Atheist, who went in daily danger of a prosecution for treason. He had the affection of a small and
growing band of friends, but he was a mark for the scorn



ii6


WILLIAM GOD WIN.


of all who were, or desired to be considered, orthodox and
respectable.
In a separate note-book headed "Supplement to Journal,"'
Godwin has recorded conversations of various friends, partly
in regard to his book. Under date of I793, March 23, he
writes: —
" Dr Priestley says my book contains a vast extent of abilityMonarchy and Aristocracy, to be sure, were never so painted
before-he agrees with me respecting gratitude and contracts
absolutely considered, but thinks the principles too refined for
practice-he felt uncommon approbation of my investigation of
the first principles of government, which were never so well
explained before-he admits fully my first principle of the omnipotence of instruction and that all vice is error-he admits all my
principles, but cannot follow them into all my conclusions with me
respecting self-love-he thinks mind will never so far get the better
of matter as I suppose; he is of opinion that the book contains a
great quantity of original thinking, and will be uncommonly useful.
" Horne Tooke tells me that my book is a bad book, and will
do a great deal of harm —Holcroft and Jardine had previously
informed me, the first, that he said the book was written with
very good intentions, but to be sure nothing could be so foolish;
the second, that Holcroft and I had our heads full of plays and
novels, and then thought ourselves philosophers."
"Caleb Williams," the first of Godwin's novels which
i was destined   to survive, was published in May T794.
{ Very many years afterwards, he wrote a short notice of
i his intention in this book:"I believed myself fortunate in the selection I had made of the
ground-plot of that work. An atrocious crime committed by a
man previously of the most exemplary habits, the annoyance he
suffers from the immeasurable and ever-wakeful curiosity of a raw
youth who is placed about his person, the state of doubt in which




'CALEB WILLIAMS.'


11I7


the reader might for a time be as to the truth of these charges and
the consequences growing out of these causes, seemed to me to
afford scope for a narrative of no common interest."
Advertisement to "St Leon," ed. of 1831.
He was not disappointed; the novel had very greatO
success, and was dramatized by Colman under the named
of "The Iron Chest." In spite of the amazing impossibilities of the story and its unrelieved gloom; in spite of
the want of almost any character to admire-since Mr
Clare, by whom Godwin probably intended to represent
his friend Fawcet, dies early in the tale; though there is
*no real heroine and scarcely mention of love, the story
has survived and has probably been read by very many
persons who, but for it, have never heard of Godwin. It
is a very powerful book, and the character of Falkland
the murderer is unique in literature.
In the year 1794 Godwin found it his duty to fling himself to a greater extent than he had hitherto done into the
stream  of active politics.  He came out of his study to
stand by prisoners arraigned of a crime of which the terrors
then were real-High Treason. His own note best sums
up the circumstances"The year 1794 was memorable for the trial of twelve persons,
under one indictment upon a charge of high treason. Some of
these persons were my particular friends; more than half of
them were known to me. This trial is certainly one of the most
memorable epochs in the history of English liberty. The accusation, combined with the evidence adduced to support it, is not to
be exceeded in vagueness and incoherence by anything in the
annals of tyranny. It was an attempt to take away the lives of
men by a constructive treason, and out of many facts, no one of
which was capital, to compose a capital crime. The name of the




is8


WILLIAM GOD WIN.


-man in whose mind the scheme of this trial was.engendered was
Pitt. Mr Home Tooke was apprehended on the I2th of May.
The novel of " Caleb Williams" was then ready for publication,
and appeared about a fortnight after. In the following month I
paid a visit to Mr Merry at Bracon Ash, near Norwich, and to my
friends and relatives in Norfolk, whom I had not visited for twelve
years. In October I went into Warwickshire on a visit to Dr
Parr, who had earnestly sought the acquaintance and intimacy of
the author of " Political Justice." My position on these occasions
was a singular one: there was not a person almost in town or
village who had any acquaintance with modem publications that
had not heard of the "Enquiry concerning Political Justice," or
that was not acquainted in a great or small degree with the contents of that work. I was nowhere-a stranger. The doctrines of
that work (though if any book ever contained the dictates of an
independent mind, mine might pretend to do so) coincided in a
great degree with the sentiments then prevailing in English
society, and I was everywhere received with curiosity and kindness. If temporary fame ever was an object worthy to be coveted.by the human mind, I certainly obtained it in a degree that has
seldom been exceeded. I was happy to feel that this circumstance
did not in the slightest degree interrupt the sobriety of my mind.
"On the 6th of October, the day after that on which I left
London for Warwickshire, the grand jury found a bill of indictment against the twelve persons who had been accused before
them. Among the names in the indictment were included not
only the persons known to me who were already in confinement,
hut also that of my friend Holcroft, and others who were at large.
Holcroft immediately surrendered himself, and was committed to
Newgate: he wrote me word of his situation, and requested my
presence. I left Dr Parr on Monday the I3th, and reached town
on that evening. Having fully revolved the subject, and examined
the doctrines of the Lord Chief Justice's charge to the grand jury,
I locked myself up on Friday and Saturday, and wrote my strictures on that composition, which appeared at full length in the
Monzing Chronicle of Monday, and were transcribed from thence




POLITICAL TRIALS.


II9


into other papers. During the progress of these trials I was present at least some part of every day. Hardy's trial lasted eight,
and Horne Tooke's six days. Among the many atrocities witnessed on that occasion, perhaps the most flagitious was. the
speech of the Attorney-General, now Lord Eldon, at the close of
the trial of that extraordinary man. In his peroration he burst
into tears, and entreated the jury to vindicate by their verdict his
character and fame; he urged them by the consideration of his
family to co-operate with him in leaving such a name behind to
his children as they should not look upon as their disgrace. It
was in the close of this year that I first met with Samuel Taylor i
Coleridge, my acquaintance with whom was ripened in the year
i8oo into a high degree of affectionate intimacy."
The Diary does no more than confirm the above, adding
some touches of detail. Thus it is recorded, that during his
stay with Dr Parr he went to church, and had an altercation with Mrs Parr about the Lord's Supper, or, in his own
curious mixture of Latin and French, "altercation de
Madame de ccen. dom." He was very regular in attendance at the " Philomaths," a society which met every Tuesday and discussed abstract questions, such as, taken at
random, "Fame," "Tribunes," "Marriage," "Incest," "a
God." His interest in the political trials was most keen
and unselfish, though he must have felt the force of the
"tua res agitur paries quum proximus ardet."
The real charge against the prisoners, when divested
of amplifications and technicalities, was that they had
endeavoured to change the form of Government established,
by publishing, or causing to be published, divers books or
pamphlets, and by belonging to political societies having
the same object.
Mrs Shelley has left, as was natural in the daughter of
such a father and the wife of such a husband, very full




120


WILLIAM GOD WIN.


notes in reference to the political trials, which may be
quoted at length, for they clearly represent not only her
own mind, but the impression left on her by the conversation of her father in his later years. Though the circumstances of which she speaks occurred before her birth, she
yet had a knowledge of them at second-hand in a way impossible to those of us who can only read them in the dry
pages of annual registers and biographical dictionaries.
The trials of Palmer, Muir, and others in Scotland for
treason, or, as it was then called in Scotland, " leasing
making," took place in the autumn of the year 1793.
"'In these -years," she writes, " the collision between Government and the advocates for reform, or something more, was at its
height. While one set of men saw an opening for their endeavours for political freedom, another became panic-struck, believing
that the horrors of the French Revolution were about to overflow
into this island. There were many whose zeal transported them
with a wish to excite the multitude to use their numerical strength
to force Government to adopt liberal measures; nor can we wonder that Ministers considered it right to put down such appeals,
rendered trebly dangerous by the state of excitement into which
the country was thrown.
"As the ministers of those days were in no degree favourable to
the extension of the liberty of the subject, they became exasperated by the attempts of the reformers, and yet were not sorry to
see them come to such a head as would admit of their taking
vindictive measures. They resolved not to be sparing in their
punishments, and to use the whole force of the law against
such as should become their victims. Their first operations were
entered -on in Scotland, where the laws against sedition were
severer than here, and juries more entirely under the direction of
the court. Messrs Palmer, Skirving, and Muir were apprehended
for various seditious practices. They were found guilty, and sentenced to be transported for seven and fourteen years. This




POLITICAL TRIALS.


121


sentence was put into execution soon after, and by its atrocity,
and the horror excited by the idea that men of good education
were to be subjected to the treatment of felons excited universal
compassion. Their case was brought forward in Parliament, but
without effect, and called forth also the following indignant letter
from Mr Godwin to the Morning Chronicle:"' To the Editor of the ' Morning Chronicle.'
" MUIR AND PAIMER.
" 'SIR,-The situation in which Messieurs Muir and Palmer are
at this moment placed is sufficiently known within a certain circle,
but is by no means sufficiently adverted to by the public at large.
Give me leave, through the channel of your paper, to call their
attention to it.
"'All the consolations of civilized society are pertinaciously
refused to them. Property, whether originally their own or the
gift of their friends, is to be rendered useless. Supplies of clothing, it seems, have been graciously received on board the vessels;
but stores of every kind and books have constantly been denied
admission. The principle which has been laid down again and
again by the officers of Government is-they are felons like the rest.
"'This, sir, is a species of punishment scarcely precedented
in the annals of mankind. Tiberius, and his modern antitype,
Joseph the Second, are mere novices in the arts of cruelty compared with our blessed administration. Joseph took judges from
the bench, men accustomed to reflection, to deference and elegant
gratification, and made them scavengers in the streets of Vienna.
Mr Pitt probably took the hint from this example. But he has
refined upon his model, inasmuch as he has sent the victims of his
atrocious despotism out of the country. If I must suffer under
the barbarian hand of power, at least let me suffer in the face or
day. Let me have this satisfaction, that my countrymen may
look on and observe my disgrace. Let them learn a great lesson
from my suffering. It is for them to decide whether it shall be a
lesson of aversion to my guilt, or abhorrence against my punisher.




122


2I2WLLIAM GOD WZIN


On that condition, I will stand on their pillories, and sweep their
streets with satisfaction and content.  But to shut me up in
dungeons -and darkness, or to transport me to the other side of
the globe, that they may wreak their vengeance on me unobserved,
is base, coward-like, and infamous.
"' Perhaps, Mr Editor, I may be told that, in holding up these
proceedings to the indignation of my countrymen, I am guilty of
sedition. You know, sir, that there is not in the Island of Great
Britain a more strenuous advocate for peaceableness and forbearance than I am. But I will not be the partaker of their secrets of
State. What they dare to perpetrate, I dare to tell. Do they not
every day assure us that the great use of punishment is example,
to deter others from incurring the like offence? And yet they
delight to inflict severities upon these men in a comer, which they
tremble to have exposed in the eyes of the world. I join issue
with administration on this point: 1, too, would have the punishment of Messieurs Muir and Palmer serve for an example. Sir,
there are examples to imitate and examples to avoid.
"'Mr Dundas told Mr Sheridan, when that gentleman applied
to him officially upon this subject a few months ago, that he saw
no great hardshijp in a man's being sent to Botany Bay. Observe
that in this sentence, as now appears, is meant to be included an
exclusion from all the means of intellectual pleasure and improvement, a reduction of men of taste and letters to the condition of
galley-slaves. I can readily believe that to a man so obdurate in
feeling and unhumanised in manners as Mr Dundas, a privation
of the sources of intellectual pleasure may appear no hardship.
Let me appeal, then, to Mr Burke. Who knows so well as he
what is due to elegance of education, delicacy of manners, and
refinement in literature?  Who has declaimed so powerfully
against those systems, by which all classes of society are confounded together, and all that is venerable for antiquity, lovely
in cultivation, and elevated by imagination and genius, is overwhelmed by the iron hand of a barbarous usurpation? Never
was the principle of taking lessons from an enemy so extensively
adopted as at present. We declaim against the French, and we




GERRALD'S TRIAL.1


123


imitate them in their most horrible atrocities. Administration is
desirous of conducting themselves with respect to Messieurs Muir
and Palmer as the Germans have acted towards M. de la Fayette,
who, we are told, in consequence of the rigours he has endured,
is reduced to the state of an idiot.
"'And who are the men that are destined to this treatment,
that are to be considered as felons like the rest? I hear the
moderate and respectable friends of Government perpetually confessing that they are men of excellent character and irreproachable
manners. What is it by which they have incurred this punishment? I learn from the same quarter that it is by an ill-directed
zeal for what they thought a good cause. I agree to that statement;
I think they did wrong. Let us suppose that for that wrong, that
well-meant but improper zeal, they ought to be punished. In
what manner punished? Not, sir, as if they were felons. A mild
and temperate punishment might, for aught I know, have operated
upon others to induce them to act with more becoming deliberation. But a punishment that exceeds all measure and mocks at
all justice, that listens to no sentiment but revenge, and plays the
volunteer in insolence and cruelty-a punishment the purpose of
which is to inflict on such men slavery, degradation of soul, a
lingering decay and final imbecility-can do nothing but exasperate
men's minds, and wind up their nerves to decisive action.
" ' You will perceive, sir, that in this letter I have entered into
no comment upon the justice of the sentence of the Court of
Session, and that the baseness of which I complain belongs exclusively to the Secretary of State for the Home Department and
the rest of the Cabinet junto.'
"But on March ioth, 1 794, occurred another trial in which Mr
Godwin was far more deeply interested, that of Joseph Gerrald
for sedition. Gerrald was a West Indian, and a man of property.
He had been a pupil of Dr Parr, who regarded him with warm
and affectionate interest. Every one who knew him loved him,
but his character was unguarded, ardent, and even dissipated.
His property became involved, and his health was injured by his




124


WILLIAM GOD WIN.


irregularities and extravagance; and yet, in spite of his conduct,
his friends were enthusiastically attached to him on account of his
brilliant talents, and his nice sense of honour, and an unconquerable ardour in the pursuit of objects which seemed to him the
noblest in the world. He had emigrated to America early in life,
and had practised as an advocate in the courts of Pennsylvania.
Returning to England a confirmed republican, he entered into
societies founded for the spread of his favourite doctrines. He
was arrested with several others who had met in what they
called a Convention of Delegates at Edinburgh, on a charge
of sedition, and brought for trial before the High Court of
Justiciary.
"The high spirit and generous sense of honour of this unfortunate man are shown by the fact that his friends offered him every
means of easy escape, of which he refused to avail himself. He
was at large, and on bail in London, when intelligence came of
the trial and conviction of several of his associates. Dr Parr, and
others of his friends, implored him to fly, promising to indemnify
his bail. He indignantly refused, resolving that his lot should be
the same as that of his partners in a cause, which he looked upon
as sacred, and considered it as a base desertion to refuse to share
their fate.
" Such noble feelings, which mirrored the devotion and honour
of his favourite heroes of Greece and Rome, excited the deepest
interest in Godwin; he always spoke of Gerrald with affectionate
admiration, and his feelings were strongly excited by the peril
his friend incurred. During the January of 1794, while the trial
was expected, there is frequent mention in the journal of seeing
Gerrald; he conversed with him on his trial, the conduct he ought
to hold in regard to it, and the defence he ought to make. To
render his advice more impressive, he wrote to him. The tone of
his letter is calculated to encourage and animate. Godwin, who
knew the human heart so well, was aware that nothing so inspires
courage and magnanimity as a belief in the sufferer that he is regarded with respect by his fellow-men. In his letter, therefore, he
casts into the shade the sad and fearful evils attendant on con



GERRALD'S DEATH.


125


viction, and endeavours to bring forward only such ideas as would
animate Gerrald to self-complacency and fortitude.
"Gerrald's defence was eloquent and good, but the judge did
not hesitate to interrupt it to tell him it was seditious, adding the
singular assertion that, taking his, Gerrald's, account of the matter
to be just, supposing that he acted from principle, and that his
motives were pure, he became a more dangerous member of
society than if his conduct had been really criminal, springing
from criminal motives. Thus urged, the jury found him guilty,
and the court showed no mercy; he was sentenced to be transported for fifteen years, which, in his precarious state of health,
was considered, as it proved to be, equivalent to a sentence of
death. When Gerrald, in his defence, professed' himself ready to
sacrifice his life for the cause he espoused, he was well aware that
he made no empty boast, and that his life would indeed expire
under the severities to which he was exposed.
"In April Gerrald was removed to London, and committed to
Newgate, where Godwin and his other friends were allowed to
visit him. It is said that he refused the offer of a pardon made
him by the Secretary of State, because coupled with conditions
which he felt it impossible to accept. In May I795 he was suddenly taken from his prison, and placed on board the hulks, and
soon afterwards sailed. He survived his arrival in New South
Wales only five months. A few hours before he died he said to
the friends around him, 'I die in the best of causes, and, as you
witness, without repining.'"
This extract is a fitting introduction to the very noble
letter addressed by Godwin to Gerrald, of which Mrs Shelley
speaks. Its lofty tone takes us back alike to the dangers
and the enthusiasm of the time.
William Godwin to Yosephz Gerrald.
"7an. 23, 1794.
"I cannot recollect the situation in which you are in a few days
to be placed without emotions of respect, and I had almost said




i26


WILLIAM GOD WIA.


of envy. For myself I will never adopt any conduct for the express purpose of being put upon my trial, but if I be ever so put,
I will consider that day as a day of triumph.
"Your trial, if you so please, may be a day such as England,
and I believe the world, never saw. It may be the means of converting thousands, and, progressively, millions, to the cause of
reason and public justice. You have a great stake, you place
your fortune, your youth, your liberty, and your talents on a single
throw. If you must suffer, do not, I conjure you, suffer without
making use of this opportunity of telling a tale upon which the
happiness of nations depends. Spare none of the resources of
your powerful mind. Is this a day of reserve, a day to be slurred
over in neglect-the day that constitutes the very crisis of your
fate?
"Never forget that juries are men, and that men are made of
penetrable stuff: probe all the recesses of their souls. Do not
spend your strength in vain defiance and empty vaunting. Let
every syllable you utter be fraught with persuasion. What an
event would it be for England and mankind if you could gain an
acquittal! Is not such an event worth striving for?' It is in man,
I am sure it is, to effect that event. Gerrald, you are that man.
Fertile in genius, strong in moral feeling, prepared with every
accomplishment that literature and reflection can give. Stand up
to the situation-be wholly yourself. ' I know,' I would say to
this jury, ' that you are packed, you are picked and culled from
all the land by the persons who have at present the direction of
public affairs, as men upon whom they can depend; but I do not
fear the event; I do not believe you will be slaves. I do not
believe that you will be inaccessible to considerations irresistible
in argument, and which speak to all the genuine feelings of the
human heart. I have been told that there are men upon whom
truth, truth fully and adequately stated, will make no impression.
It is a vile and groundless calumny upon the character of the
human mind. This is my theory, and I now come before you for
the practice.'
" If you should fail of a verdict-but why should I suppose




LETTER TO GERRALD.


127


it?-this manner of stating your defence is best calculated to persuade the whole audience, and the whole world, for the same
reason that it is best calculated to persuade a jury.
"It is the nature of the human mind to be great in proportion
as it is acted upon by great incitements. Remember this. Now
is your day. Never, perhaps never, in the revolution of human
affairs, will your mind be the same illustrious and irresistible mind
as it will be on this day.
" You stand on as clear ground as man can stand on. You are
brought there for meeting in convention to deliberate on grievances. Do not fritter away your defence by anxiety about little
things; do not perplex the jury by dividing their attention. Depend upon it, that if you can establish to their full conviction the
one great point-the lawfulness of your meeting-you will obtain
a verdict.
"That point is fully contained in the Bill of Rights, is the
fundamental article of that constitution which Englishmen have
been taught to admire. Appeal Ifor so upon your principles you
can) to an authority paramount to the English constitution, to all
written Law and parchment constitutions; the Law of universal
Reason, authorising men to consult. Ireland was always the least
emancipated part of the British Empire. In Ireland they thought
proper to pass a tyrannical law taking away this inalienable privilege. But in Britain they do worse; ministers are said to have it
in contemplation to pass a similar law here, and in the meantime 'you, the jury, are called upon to act as if the law were already
in existence. Was ever so atrocious a breach of equity and reason?
They pride themselves in having drawn us, and a great part of the
Scottish nation, into the snare, and overwhelmed us with a destruction which no prudence could foresee, and no innocence
avert.'
" The next point I would earnestly recommend to your attention is to show that you and the reformers are the true friends of
the country, that you are actuated by pure philanthropy and
benevolence, and have no selfish motives, that your projects lead
to general happiness, and are the only means of averting the scene




128


WILLIAMI GOD WVIN.


of confusion which is impending over us. 'Our whole effort is
directed to the preventing mischief, and the sparing every drop of
blood. The longer the confederates of foreign despots among us
go on in their present impious career, the more you will want us.
We place ourselves in the breach to snatch your wives and children from destruction. Will the present overbearing and exasperating conduct of government lead to tranquillity and harmony?
Will new wars and new taxes, the incessant persecution, ruin, and
punishment of every man that dares to oppose them heal the
dissensions of mankind? No! Nothing can save us but moderation, prudence and timely reform.  Men must be permitted to
confer together upon their common interests, unprovoked by
insult, counteracting treachery, and arbitrary decrees. It is for
this antidote to the madness of men in power that we have made
every sacrifice, and are ready to sacrifice our lives. If you punish
us, you punish us because we have watched for your good.'
"Above all, let me entreat you to abstain from harsh epithets
and bitter invective. Show that?ou are not terrible but kind, and
anxious for the good of all. Truth will lose nothing by this.
Truth can never gain by passion, violence, and resentment. It is
never so strong as in the firm, fixed mind, that yields to the
emotions neither of rage nor fear. It is by calm and recollected
boldness that we can shake the pillars of the vault of heaven.
How great will you appear if you show that all the injustice with
which you are treated cannot move you: that you are too great to
be wounded by their arrows; that you still hold the steadfast
course that becomes the friend of man, and that while you expose
their rottenness you harbour no revenge. The public want men
of this unaltered spirit, whom no persecution can embitter. The
jury, the world will feel your value, if you show yourself such a
man: let no human ferment mix in the sacred work.
" Farewell; my whole soul goes with you. You represent us
all.                                       W. GODWIN."
Mrs Shelley's note on the English State Trials is also
fortunately extant, and is here mainly reproduced. After




MRS SHELLE Y'S NOTES.


129


mentioning that on learning that the grand jury had found
a true bill against the twelve men, among whom were
Holcroft, Horne Tooke, and several other of his personal
friends, Godwin immediately started for London, and sent
in a formal application to be allowed to visit the prisoners.
Mrs Shelley continues:
"Godwin well understood, that had these trials been followed
by a verdict of 'guilty,' he would have subsequently shared their
fate as their friend and intimate associate. Neither the difference
of his own opinion from those of his friends, in some points considerable, nor his own personal risk, could prevent a man so
enthusiastic and intrepid as my father, from exerting all his powers
in their cause.
"That ministers should have accused of high treason men
whose crime could not by any perversion be interpreted beyond
sedition, might excite his indignation, but not surprise, but that
Grand Jury should have given their sanction to the proceeding
seemed extraordinary and overwhelming. These sentiments were
increased by the charge of Chief-Justice Eyre. Godwin, on
returning to London, lost no time in writing an answer to the
charge. On this occasion, speed being a main ingredient of
success, he wrote by dictation, his old and tried friend Marshal
being his amanuensis. As he warmed in his subject, he paced the
room with quick, eager steps, pouring out his arguments with an
animation and fervour which sat well on features and manner
usually too quiet and undemonstrative. He looked on this crisis
as one of awful moment to all Englishmen. The law of high
treason, accurately defined by the statute, and ably commented on
by the best lawyers, was to be stretched and bent for the destruction of these men. Because they had entered upon a line of conduct which, if carried to its utmost extent by the worst of men,
might be supposed in the result as tending to overthrow the monarchy, they whose motives were pure, and who abhorred blood,
were to be condemned as traitors. Nay more. Their ostensible
object was confessedly legal, and it was behind this avowed and
I.                       I




I130


3WILLIAM31 GODWIN.


innocent intention that hidden and treasonable acts were to be
discovered and punished.
" They had met in convention for the sake of furthering a plan
to obtain annual parliaments. This was their apparent crime; it
remained to discover the guilt of high treason behind so innocuous
an outside.  Chief-Justice Eyre explained the law of treason
according to the statute 25 Edward III., which is the law of England. He set forth what an overt act was, and that it was necessary to prove by two witnesses the committing of an act, which
had in its intent and effect the compassing and imagining the
death of the king. He allowed that meeting in convention for the
sake of obtaining annual parliaments was not treasonable, but he
averred that a secret and evil design was in the present instance
most probably concealed by this pretext. He said that if the convention had for its intention the enforcing annual parliaments of
its own authority, that was an act of treason. He further observed
that whether the project of convention, having for its object the
collecting together a power which should overawe the legislative
body and extort a parliamentary reform, would, if acted upon,
amount to high treason, and to the specific treason of compassing
and imagining the death of the king was a more doubtful question,
and he added, 'If charges of high treason are offered to be maintained on this ground only, perhaps it may be fitting that, in
respect of the extraordinary nature, and dangerous extent, and
very criminal complexion of such a conspiracy, that case, which I
state to you as a new and doubtful case, should be put into a
judicial course of inquiry, that it may receive a solemn adjudicature whether it will or will not amount to high treason, in order
-to which the bills must be found to be true bills.'
" In short, after sketching and rendering as vague as possible
the narrow and defined limits of the law of treason, the judge set
up a new case, not acknowledged as treason by the law of the
land, but of which, when the criminals were found guilty, the
judges, against whom it is a principle of our constitution to guard
the accused, were to decide upon, and determine whether they
were or were not to be hanged, thus erecting the mere executive




SIR JAMES EYRE, C. 7


I31


into legislative, and giving an awful stretch of power, which would
have placed every disaffected Englishman in the hands of government to be dealt with as it chose, and the mercy to which it was
inclined was manifested in the present trials.
" Godwin's keen and logical mind easily detected the flaws in Sir
James Eyre's reasoning, and his eloquence set them forth clearly
and forcibly. He repeated and praised the first exposition of the
Law of Treason by the Judge. 'In all this preamble of the Chief
Justice,' he says, 'there is something extremely humane and considerate. I trace in it the language of a constitutional lawyer, a
sound logician, and a temperate, discreet, and honest man. I see
rising to my view, a Judge resting upon the law as it is, and
determinedly setting his face against new, unprecedented, and
temporizing constructions. I see a Judge that scorns to bend his
neck to the yoke of any party or any administration, who
expounds the unalterable principles of justice, and is prepared to
try by them, and them only, the persons that are brought before
him. I see him taking to himself, and holding out to the jury,
the manly consolation that they are to make no new law, and force
no new interpretation, that they are to consult only the statutes of
the realm, and the decisions of those writers who have been the
luminaries of England. Meanwhile, what shall be said by our
contemporaries, and by our posterity, if this picture be reversed, if
these promises were made only to render our disappointment more
bitter, if these high professions merely served as an introduction
to an unparalleled mass of arbitrary constructions, of new-fangled
treasons; and doctrines equally inconsistent with history and themselves.' He then proceeds to argue that the thing to be proved
was not whether the accused were guilty of a moral crime, but of
a crime against law. 'Let it be granted,' he says, ' that the crime
is, in the eye of reason and discretion, the most enormous that it
can enter into the heart of man to conceive, still I have a right to
ask, is it a crime against law? Show me the statute that describes
it; refer me to the precedent by which it is defined, quote me the
adjudged case in which a matter of such unparalleled magnitude
is settled.'




132


WILLIAM GOD WTIN.


"Mr Godwin then proceeds to analyse the various modes in
which the Chief Justice supposes it possible that these men,
associated for the purpose of obtaining Parliamentary Reform,
were guilty of High Treason. ' One mode,' he says, 'is by such
an association, not in its own nature, as he says, simply unlawful
too easily degenerating, and becoming unlawful in the highest
degree.' It is difficult to comment upon this article with the
gravity that may seem due to a magistrate delivering his opinion
from a bench of justice. An association for Parliamentary Reform
may degenerate, and become unlawful in the highest degree, even
to the enormous extent of the crime of High Treason. Who
knows not that? Was it necessary that Chief Justice Eyre should
come in 1794, solemnly to announce to us so irresistible a proposition? An association for Parliamentary Reform may desert
its object, and become guilty of High Treason. True; so may a
card club, a bench of justice, or even a Cabinet Council. Does
Chief Justice Eyre mean to intimate that there is something in the
purpose of a Parliamentary Reform, so unhallowed, ambiguous,
and unjust, as to render its well-wishers objects of suspicion rather
than their brethren and fellow subjects? What can be more
wanton, cruel, and inhuman than thus to single out the purpose of
Parliamentary Reform, as if it were of all others most especially
connected with degeneracy and treason.
"' But what is principally worthy of attention is the easy and
artful manner in which the idea of treason is introduced.' After
commenting with extreme severity on the insinuation of intention,
of which there was not a particle of truth, he continues: 'But the
authors of the present prosecution probably hope that the mere
names of Jacobin and Republican will answer their purposes, and
that a jury of Englishmen will be found who will send every man
to the gallows without examination to whom these appellations
shall once have been attributed.'
"Mr Godwin then comments on the Chief Justice's observations on a convention, a word brought into disrepute by its adoption in France, but by no means foreign to English History.
Because of the present use of the name, the Judge declared that




SIR _7AMES E YRE'S CHARGE.


133


it ' deservedly became an object of jealousy to the lav.' ' Can
anything,' exclaims Godwin, 'be more atrocious than the undertaking to measure the guilt of an individual and the interpretation
of a plain and permanent law. by the transitory example that may
happen to exist before our eyes in a neighbouring country.'
"After much more on this and on other heads, Mr Godwin comes
to the last point of the charge-that in which he bids the Grand
Jury find a true bill, if they should discover on the part of the
accused a design to overawe King and Parliament, so that afterwards it might be subjected to a judicial course of enquiry. ' The
Chief Justice,' he says, 'quits in this instance the character of
criminal judge and civil magistrate, and assumes that of a natural
philosopher, or experimental anatomist. He is willing to dissect
the persons that shall be brought before him, the better to ascertain the truth or falsehood of his preconceived conjectures. The
plain English of his recommendation is this. Let these men be
put on their trial for their lives, let them and their friends be
exposed to all the anxieties incident to so uncertain and fearful a
condition; let them be exposed to ignominy, to obloquy, to the
partialities, as it may happen, of a prejudiced Judge, and the perTerseness of an ignorant jury; we shall then know how we ought
to conceive of similar cases. By trampling on their peace, throwing away their lives, or sporting with their innocence, we shall
obtain a basis on which to proceed, and a precedent to guide our
judgment in future instances.'
"The effect of this appeal, of which the passages quoted may
give a sufficient notion, when it became widely spread through the
papers, was memorable. Hitherto men had heard that the King's
Ministers had discovered a treasonable conspiracy, and had
arrested the traitors.  They believed this.  No project was
believed too wild or wicked for those who had imbibed the infection of' the French Revolution, nor could any believe that the
highest and most solemn council of the State would have proceeded against twelve subjects of the realm but on clear and
undoubted grounds. The charge of the Chief Justice did not
dissipate the illusion. It is true that all he said was wrapped in




I34


WILLIAM GOD WINV.


' May-be,' and the Grand Jury was told that they were to discover
secret, treasonable designs; but still Mr Pitt was a man of high
character and vast talents-men leant on him with confidence,.
and readily saw gigantic dangers in the shadowy images of treason
that were evoked. They could not believe that for the sake of an
experiment, for the purpose of overawing the country, and extending his power beyond the limits of the constitution, he would put in
slight account the lives and liberties of twelve men, his fellow subjects, whom he knew that there was no law to condemn, whom he
only hoped to destroy through the influence of the panic which the
proceedings in France had engendered in this country. But these
remarks dissipated the mist that clouded men's understandings;
they who before believed that the accused were undoubtedly
guilty of treason began to perceive that a design to reform Parliament was not treasonable, and that however wrong-headed, and
even reprehensible it might be to associate for such a purpose,
this was no cause why men, otherwise innocent, should, themselves and their families, be subjected to the frightful pains and
penalties of treason.
"Impartial men now looked forward to the event of these trials
with very different expectations, both as to the nature of the charges
to be brought, and the result. *The friends of the accused, now
that they dared hope for a fair trial, confided in an acquittal.
The event shewed how reasonable and just were Godwin's reasonings; how strained, tyrannical, and barbarous the proceedings of
ministers.
" Hardy, a shoemaker by trade, was the man first selected by
the Attorney-General to be placed at the Bar. The trial lasted
eight days; the evidence brought was complicated and vast, but
vague and inconclusive. He was acquitted. The trials of Horne
Tooke and Thelwal followed; but the whole force of Government
had been directed against Hardy, and when these also were acquitted, the public accusers felt their task ended. They allowed
verdicts of acquittal to be recorded in favour of their other
prisoners.
" Godwin, as he says, attended the trials every day, though he




iMRS REVELEY'S ALAR~M.


I35


knew himself to be a marked man, had his friends been found
guilty. He was present when the Attorney-General announced
that he gave up his intention of proceeding against Holcroft, who,
on being liberated, left the dock, and, crossing the court, took his
seat beside Godwin. Sir Thomas Lawrence, struck by the happy
combination and contrast exhibited in the attitude and expression
of the two friends, made a spirited sketch of them in profile.
"The feeling of triumph among the friends of liberty was universal. Even now there lingered on the English shores Gerrald,
Muir, Palmer, and Skirving, who, victims of Scottish law, were
sentenced to be transported to Botany Bay. Their fate filled
their friends with grief and indignation; but worse had been since
attempted, and it was a matter of virtuous triumph to find that the
attempt failed, that our country was restored to the protection of
its laws, and a boundary placed to the encroachments of arbitrary
power.  Godwin never forgot the delightful sensations he then
experienced; it was his honest boast, and most grateful recollection, that he had contributed to the glorious result, by his letter to
Chief-Justice Eyre."
- The panic which was felt by some, who, belonging
to the liberal party, feared they might be compromised
by their accused friends, is reflected in a letter from Mrs
Reveley, whom Holcroft had proposed to call as a witness,
to what special point in his defence does not appear.
Mrs Reveley to William Godwin.
"SOUTHAMPTON ROW, EDGWARE ROAD,
"Monday Morng., 27 October.
"I was very much surprised last night, to hear your statements
of Mr Holcroft's determination concerning me, as it differed
materially from what had been represented to me before; hitherto
I have had no opportunity of conversing with you on the subject,
and it is necessary that I should inform you of the exact state of
my mind. Should it appear that Mr Holcroft's life is at all in




136


WILLIA M GOD WIN.


danger, and that my evidence would tend in the least to avert that
misfortune, far from repining, I profess myself, without hesitation,
ready calmly to encounter every odium, every public or private
resentment-in a word, ruin-to save him.
"But if, on the other hand, he means to sacrifice me, with
scarcely a possibility of advantage to himself, and the evidence I
am able to give should have nothing singular and particular, or
out of the power of any other person to produce; from what could
such conduct arise, but wanton cruelty or insanity?
" If this should be his determination, I declare to you, as I did
last night, that I will not expose myself to the evils which this
puerile conceit is thus preparing for me.
"What could be more tyrannical than Mr Holcroft's assertion,
that whatever might be my dislike, he would force me to do my
duty? As if he were to be the. judge of it. The Despots say no
more! His treatment of Mr Reveley excites in me the most
unpleasant feelings; I believe I shall ever think of it with detestation.
"I feel a doubt that, from many circumstances which have lately
occurred, you should imagine that any change has taken place in
my opinion of you. Be assured that the high esteem and veneration which your virtues and genius entitle you to, have not suffered
the smallest diminution in the sentiments of
"MARIA REVELEY."
When Hardy's trial was over, Godwin received a letter
from the friend from whose house he had hurried to help
his friends.
Dr Parr to William Godwin.
"Nov. IO, 1794.
"Your anxiety, dear Mr Godwin, during Hardy's trial could not
be more intense than mine, your joy at the close of it was not more
rapturous, your approbation of the jury is not more warm, and your
indignation against the judge seems to be less fierce. Is it possible,
my friend, that any baseness can be more foul, any injustice more




DR PARR ON POLITICS.


I37


pernicious, any treason more atrocious, than the deliberate, technical, systematic perversion of law? My bosom glowed with honest
rage when I saw the snares that were laid for men's lives in that
odious address to the Grand Jury; but I doubt whether the dagger
of an assassin, reeking with blood, would have given a more violent
shock to my feelings than the close of Eyre's speech at the Old
Bailey. I can make great allowances for the projects of statesmen,
the errors and prejudices of princes, and even the outrages of conquerors; but when I see the ministers of public justice thirsting
with canine fury for the blood of a fellow-creature, my soul is all
on fire... I very strongly disapproved of the Convention; I
would oppose the doctrine of universal suffrage; I look with a
watchful, and perhaps with an unfriendly, eye upon all political
associations; I wish to see the people enlightened, but not inflamed; I would resist with my pen, and perhaps with my sword,
any attempts to subvert the constitution of this country, but I am
filled with agony when laws, intended for our protection, are
stretched and distorted for our destruction.  I am glad the
charge was published, because it has been answered; and as I
think the answer luminous in style, powerful in matter, and solid
in principle, I am extremely desirous of knowing who is the author.
He is entitled to my praise as a critic, and my thanks as an Englishman. I shall not be satisfied till Mr Fox takes up, in Parliament,
the subject of constructive treason; and I trust that, by perseverance, he will be no less successful than we have already seen him
in vindicating the rights of juries. He is a sound and sober statesman, a real lover of his country, and a friend to the collective
interests of social man... Remember me kindly to Mr Holcroft.
Come again to see me at my parsonage, when the weather is finer,
the days longer, the roads cleaner, and the aspect of public affairs
less gloomy.-Believe me, dear sir, with great respect, your wellwisher and obedient servant,                    T. PARR."




CHAPTER VI.


FRIENDS AND ACQU AINTANCES. I794-I796.
IN all the storm and stress of politics, when his male
friends were almost all more or less in trouble, when
Mrs Reveley was putting herself into the semi-hysterical state in which we have seen her, the friendship of
Mrs Inchbald, who was no politician but only a very
clever and very charming woman, was a great comfort
to Godwin.   Their correspondence was frequent, as also
were their meetings; all Mrs Inchbald's letters are worth
reading, but only a few can be given. Godwin sent the
proofs of "Caleb Williams" to her, and her opinion of it must
have pleased him as much as Marshal's criticism displeased
him. The early tales from his pen had been forgotten, and
he appeared before the world as a new novelist.
The letters which follow were written while the story was
still in reading, and she wrote in far too hot haste to dream
of dating her letters, and usually to sign them.
Mrs Inchbald to William Godwin.
(No date.), j'-*".  God bless you!
%4,-     "o "That was the sentence I exclaimed when I had read about
half a page.
k    ':.    " Nobody is so pleased when they find anything new as I am.?j'        I found your style different from what I have ever yet met. You
__t'




MRS INCHBALD ON 'CALEB WILLIAMS.'


139,


come to the point (the story) at once, another excellence. I have
now read as far as page 32 (I was then interrupted by a visitor)
and do not retract my first sentence. I have to add to your praise
that of a most minute, and yet most concise method of delineating
human sensations.
" I could not resist writing this, because my heart was burthened
with the desire of saying what I think, and what I hope for.
" My curiosity is greatly increased by what I have read, but if
you disappoint me you shall never hear the last of it, and instead
of 'God Bless,' I will vociferate, God  m you."
The Same to the Same.
"Monday evening.
"SIR,-Your first volume is far inferior to the two last. Your
second is sublimely horrible-captivatingly frightful.
"Your third is all a great genius can do to delight a great
genius, and I never felt myself so conscious of, or so proud of
giving proofs of a good understanding, as in pronouncing this to
be a capital work.
"It is my opinion that fine ladies, milliners, mantua-makers, and
boarding-school girls will love to tremble over it, and that men of
taste and judgment will admire the superior talents, the incessant
energy of mind you have evinced.
"In these two last volumes, there does not appear to me (apt
as I am to be tired with reading novels) one tedious line, still
there are lines I wish erased. I shudder lest for the sake of a few
sentences, (and these particularly marked for the reader's attention
by the purport of your preface) a certain set of people should
hastily condemn the whole work as of immoral tendency, and
rob it of a popularity which no other failing it has could I think
endanger.
" This would be a great pity, especially as these sentences are
trivial compared to those which have not so glaring a tendency,
and yet to the eye of discernment are even more forcible on your
side of the question..... But if I find fault it is because




140


WILLIAM GODWIN.


I have no patience that anything so near perfection should not be
perfection."
She could take as well as give criticism in a thoroughly
good-humoured manner. She had sent- Godwin a MS.,
which was probably afterwards destroyed. It is, however,
no doubt that to which a letter from Mr Hardinge, quoted
in Boaden's "Life of Mrs Inchbald," alludes, under the title,
"A Satire on the Times," and about which Boaden remarks
that Hardinge's remark is unintelligible. " Oh! that I may
be for ever called stupid by the person who wrote 'A Satire
on the Times,' by setting a ship on fire and burning every
soul in the book except a Lord of the Bedchamber, by
whom she meant the k." -Memoirs of Inchbald, Vol. I.,
p. 328.
The Same to the Same.
"I am infinitely obliged to you for all you have said, which
amounts very nearly to all I thought.
" But indeed I am too idle, and too weary of the old rule of
poetical justice to treat my people, to whom I have given birth, as
they deserve, or rather I feel a longing to treat them according to
their deserts, and to get rid of them all by a premature death, by
which I hope to surprise my ignorant reader, and to tell my
informed one that I am so wise as to have as great a contempt for
my own efforts as he can have.
" And now I will discover to you a total want of aim, of execution,
and every particle of genius belonging to a writer, in a character
in this work, which from the extreme want of resemblance to the
original, you have not even reproached me with the fault of not
drawing accurately.
"I really and soberly meant (and was in hopes every reader
would be struck with the portrait) Lord Rinforth to represent his
Most Gracious Majesty, George the 3rd.
"I said at the commencement all Lords of Bedchambers were




MRS INCHBALD ON GEORGE IHl.


141


mirrors of the Grand Personage on whom they attended, but
having Newgate before my eyes, I dressed him in some virtues,
and (notwithstanding his avarice) you did not know him.
"The book is now gone to Mr Hardinge. Mr Holcroft is to
have it as soon as his play is over, and though I now despair of
any one finding out my meaning, yet say nothing about the matter
to Mr Holcroft, but let my want of talent be undoubted, by his.
opinion conforming to yours.
"And there, (said I to myself as I folded up the volumes) how
pleased Mr Godwin will be at my making the King so avaricious,
and there, (said I to myself) how pleased the King will be at my
making him so very good at the conclusion, and when he finds.
that by throwing away his money he can save his drowning people
he will instantly throw if all away for flannel shirts for his soldiers,
and generously pardon me all I have said on equality in the book,
merely for giving him a good character.
" But alas, Mr Godwin did not know him in that character, and
very likely he would not know himself."
Some extracts from a letter to a young man, whose name
is not preserved, may be interesting, for they represent
Godwin in yet another light, and show at once his versa —
tility, and his unceasing desire to help others in all their
various needs. There is no date, but it belongs to this
time, and seems to have been written to an Oxford man
who was in some trouble of mind.
William Godwin to -
(No date.)
I am glad that my writings have in any degree contributed to your pleasure in moments of dejection and gloom. I
should be much more glad if I could point out to you a remedy
for your disease. Dr Darwin, you say, assures you it is a disease
of the mind. There is perhaps some deception in that way of distributing the disorders of the human species. The mind and the



142


142WILLIAM GOD WVIN.


animal frame are so closely connected, that scarcely anything can
unfavourably affect the one without deranging the other. I think
it not improbable that your unhappiness may be connected with
some vice of organization, as far as I can annex a distinct meaning
to that term. But in these subtle diseases, take insanity for an
example, it seems as if the remedies might sometimes be found in
material, sometimes in mental applications. I see no good reason
to doubt, that a certain discipline of the mind may have a powerful
tendency to restore sanity to the intellect, and consequent vigour
to the animal frame. I know a young man, subject in a considerable degree to the same evil under which you labour, and of a
strong understanding, who has in some measure found out the
remedy for himself, and has considerably added to his happiness
by watching resolutely the operations of his own mind.
"The first thing you have to guard against, as the most pernicious error into which you can fall, is the feeling yourself flattered by your own misery as something honourable and delicate.
Do not from this, or other motives, cherish and indulge painful
sensations. Resolutely expel them, if possible, from your mind.
Determine vehemently and hardily to be as happy as you can.
Break abruptly the thread of painful ideas. Set your face
as much as possible against a spirit of timidity and procrastination.
Endeavour to be always active, always employed. Walk, read,
write, and converse. Seek variety in this respect. Whatever you
engage in, engage in firmly, and give no quarter to the inroads of
irresolution and listlessness..... Do not indulge in visions,
and phantoms of the imagination, or place your happiness in something you may perhaps never obtain, but endeavour to make it
out of the materials within your reach. Adopt some course of
improvement, and impress yourself with some ardour of usefulness,
which will never wholly elude the grasp of him who seeks it with
ingenuousness and simplicity.....        W. GODWIN."
The remaining letters of value during this year are those
from Tom Cooper, which follow. They relate, as will be




STROLLING PLA YERS.


I43


seen, to different periods of the year, but equally to his professional engagements, and are best presented consecutively.
The most truculent game preserver may, at this distance of
time, feel tenderly towards the poor stroller, who would not
have dined at all but for his venial poaching.
Thomas Cooper to William Godwin.
"CHICHESTER, yanuary I2, 1794.
" On inquiring into the causes that guide our actions, I am
greatly puzzled to discover the reason why I have not written
before to London. Can it be indolence? I have been in other
respects very industrious. It cannot be indifference or inattention,
for a day has never passed over without my thinking on the subject. Whatever was the cause, such is the fact, which cannot be
removed by an inquiry, however long. I will therefore dismiss it
at once, and proceed to my purpose.
"I left Hyde Park Corner at five o'clock on the Sunday. I left
you at two. I proceeded some twenty or thirty miles when I was
overtaken by the Southampton mail. I got a four shilling cast on
the outside, and arrived at Southampton, gloriously wet, at ten
o'clock on Monday night. I set off to Cowes the next morning
at seven by the mail packet, which was opposed both by wind and
tide, and could make no way. The mail was obliged to shift to
an open boat, and as I could row, I got into the boat, leaving the
rest of the passengers on board. I now pulled against wind and
tide for upwards of twelve miles, without one minute's rest, and I
do not recollect ever to have undergone so great fatigue before.
I arrived at Newport, however, by 3 P.M. on Tuesday, according
to my promise, when, contrary to my expectation, I had nothing
to do in the evening's entertainment. I have since been on a
salary of Ios. a week, and we have had one idle week between Newport and this place, where we have been three weeks, and are
likely to continue four more.  Hence we go immediately to
Portsmouth.... I have pursued the plan Mr Holcroft mentioned
as much as possible, consistently with almost continual moving,




144


WILLIAM GODWIN.


but that will for about a month receive a considerable check On
account of some of the company taking benefits here, and the
manager's great impatience to open the Portsmouth Theatre, the
company is obliged to divide. I am ordered to Portsmouth, and
have a great deal of study on my hands. Mr Collins, in addition
to other things, told me yesterday to study George Barnwell and
Irwin. Of a morning, since I have been here, from about seven
to nine, I have amused myself by shooting, and have in utter
defiance of the laws of the constitution under which I exist, dined
twice or thrice on partridges.
" I beg you will make a point of showing this to my mother
immediately, as I have not written to her since I left town. My
love to her and Betty and Miss Godwin. Is Nat at Spithead?
" THOMAS COOPER"
"STOCKPORT, October 21, 1794.
"Whether the God of Wisdom presided in my brain at the
time I made the resolution of joining these strolling players at
Stockport I know not. Whether you may think the step wise
(which is not the same qumre, however paradoxical my supposing
a difference may appear to you), I am equally ignorant. But well
I know that it is now a fortnight since we closed at Liverpool, and
that in the interim I have travelled fifty miles, bag and baggage,
across the country, and that by this means my stock of cash is
so reduced, that without a supply before to-morrow at twelve
o'clock, I shall be obliged to dine with a certain duke with whom
I have kept company before to-day (but heartily despising everything, and titles among the rest, that put me in mind of usurpation and inequality), whose company I would very willingly renounce for the time to come. Nevertheless I stand prepared to
encounter any tricks or mischief Fortune may be inclined to put
upon me, continually repeating the first lines of that ode of Horace,
beginning, ' Justum et tenacem proposii virum.
" By means of reduction in my pocket, having now taken the
step of coming here, it is impracticable to recall it, and here I
must remain. But in eight or ten weeks, unless I should meet




COOPER'S DIFFICUL TIES A GAIN.


145


with any great success, I shall again think of coming to London.
Though, indeed, if Mr Holcroft's trial comes on, and a consequence which I tremble to think of should take place, I shall be
in London on the instant.
" Thus, then, I am. We open to-morrow. I do not play till
Saturday, when I make my appearance in Barnwell. I have no
doubt of my success, for what trifling degree of merit I may have,
will derive additional lustre from the extreme dullness of the set of
devils I have got among. We are to play in a theatre, to be sure,
that is, in a place built for that purpose only, but we shall come
under the Vagrant Act. But the sweets of superiority! 'Oh, 'tis
better to reign in hell, than serve in heaven!' -
"I will thank you for a letter, containing as much circumstance
as you can contrive. How do yours' and Mr Holcroft's novels
sell?  How is Mr H.'s family governed in his absence. Tell
me any occurrences relative to Mr H.'s imprisonment, if any
there is, not mentioned in the papers. Is George Dyson yet out
of his swaddling clothes? that is, does he yet live entirely as his
own master, or is he still at home with papa and mamma? How
does Jack go on?  Remember to give my love to my mother,
Miss Godwin, &c. Likewise let the Holcroft family know I have
not forgotten them. And though last, not least, mention me,
'after what flourish your nature will,' to Mrs Reveley-I believebut it is, however, the lady who supped with you at Mr Holcroft's
the last night I was in town. She is a painter. Tell her I would
come to London, all the way barefoot, to see her perform the
office of hangman to Mr P., which I recollect she said she should
have- no objection to.
"THOMAS COOPER."
"STOCKPORT, Oct. 28, 1794.
"All the devils in hell seem to conspire against me. When
success seemed placed within my reach, and I had nothing left to
do but to nod my head and become a hero, some damned untoward
accident prevents it. Barnwell could not be played, as I informed
you it would. But last night, to forward the manager's business,


I.


K




I46


WILLIAM GOD WIAN


I undertook to play Holdam, in Columbus, at a short notice, and
to give up an appearance part. The consequence of which was,
that the manager, relying upon a continued obligingness in doing
his dirty work, this morning gave me a list of parts, and grinning,
told me I promised very well, but that I must do all the parts
there specified. There were, to be sure, a great many good parts,
and most of them respectable; but he told me that in my turn I
must also deliver messages. I told him that the parts expressed
in his list would satisfy me very well indeed; but that as to the
delivering of messages, I would not do it in heaven.
"If it were a respectable company, I would gladly accept the
good parts he gave me, though a few messages were thrown in
with them, because it was really a good line; but in that situation
I hardly think it would be right to stay, even if I did nothing else
but the good parts. They are such a wretched set of mummers.
Perhaps you will say that I can do my business properly, though
they did not. I say no. They seldom speak a word of the
author. The business is a jest, and likewise the man who attempts
to treat it seriously.
"I shall leave this place before you can possibly return an answer. I am now I70 miles from town. I shall start from hence
with 5s. in my pocket. I shall see you shortly. I will black shoes
at the corner of Goodge Street for is. a-day sooner than be anything but the leader among a set of wretches I despise.
" Io Triumphe,
"THOS. COOPER."
The note for the year I795 records that Godwin's
literary work during the course of it consisted mainly in
the revision of his two lately published works.       He
continues:"In the beginning of this year I accepted the offer of a certain
degree of acquaintance with a man, in doing which I thought
myself right, but in which I did not escape censure. The man
was John King, a notorious Jew money-lender, who was married




7. HORNE TOOKE.


U47


to the Countess Dowager of Lanesborough. My motive was
simple-the study to which I had devoted myself was man, to
analyse his nature as a moralist, and to delineate his passions as
an historian, or a recorder of fictitious adventures; and I believed
that I should learn from this man and his visitors some lessons
which I was not likely to acquire in any other quarter. My
system prompted me to express my thoughts of him as freely,
though without the same scurrility and ill-temper, as Apemantus
at the table of Lord Timon. An incident worthy to be mentioned
occurred to me on the 2 st of May in this year. I dined on that
day with Mr Hore Tooke and a pretty numerous company at
the house of a friend.  The great philologist had frequently
rallied me in a good-humoured way upon the visionary nature ot
my politics-his own were of a different cast. It was a favourite
notion with him that no happier or more excellent Government
had ever existed than that of the English nation in the reigns ot
George the First and George the Second. From disparaging my
philosophy, he passed by a very natural transition to the setting
light, either really or in pretence, by the abilities for which I had
some credit. He often questioned me with affected earnestness
as to the truth of the report that I was the author of the 'Cursory
Sketches on Chief Justice Eyre's Charge to the Grand Jury,' of
which pamphlet he always declared the highest admiration, and to
which he repeatedly professed that he held himself indebted for
his life. The question was revived at the dinner I have mentioned. I answered carelessly to his enquiry that I believed I was
the author of that pamphlet. He insisted on a reply in precise
terms to his question, and I complied. He then requested that I
would give him my hand. To do this I was obliged to rise from
my chair and go to the end of the table where he sat. I had no
sooner done this than he suddenly conveyed my hand to his lips,
vowing that he could do no less by the hand that had given existence to that production. The suddenness of t.e action filled me
with confusion; yet I must confess that when I looked back upon
it, this homage thus expressed was more gratifying to me than all
the applause I had received from any other quarter.




148


H'ILLIAM GODWIN.


Another detached note contains fragments of a conversation at Horne Tooke's during another dinner party about
the same time; it has some small value as bearing on the
controversy about the authorship of "Junius' Letters."
"WIMBLEDON.-For several years after the commencement of
the present reign (except the 'Daily Advertizer') there were but
two newspapers, the 'Gazetteer' and the 'Public Advertizer:'
afterwards started up the 'Ledger,' expressly ministerial.
"Home Tooke knows who was the author of ' Junius' Letters.'
He wrote a few years before letters under the signature of
'Lucius,' collected in two volumes, and intended a series under
the signature of 'Brutus;' he designed the coincidence of the
three for a clue to his secret.  He sunk 'Junius' at last-by
law arguments, a science in which he was uninformed, and city
politics, which he did not understand; he is still living. Tooke
speaks of his style with the highest commendation.
" H. T., born I737; goes abroad with Elwes, heir to Sir Harvey
Elwes (whose estate afterwards descended to Megget, alias Miser
Elwes, 1763); staid abroad four years.
"Burke came to England before Tooke went abroad; he had
previously a pension of -/200 for writing a speech [for singlespeech Hamilton.
"Tooke was to have for his services with Elwes /300 a-year
for life, or a provision in the Church to the amount of900oo; his
(Tooke's) father was a tradesman in the city.
" Tooke brought home his ward from the South of France in a
fit of insanity, the young man at the bottom of the chaise, and
Tooke on the seat armed with pistols. The young man was not
allowed knife or fork."
The diaries add little worth recording. They show an
ever increasing number of acquaintances, among whom the
most noticeable are Lord Lauderdale, who was afterwards
Plenipotentiary to France in I8o6, and died in I839; Mrs




NE W FRIEANDS.


I49


Siddons, and Basil Montagu. This gentleman was for
many years a warm friend and devoted admirer of Godwin.
He was Q.C., Commissioner of Bankruptcy, and author of
"A Digest of the Bankruptcy Laws." He died in 1851,
aged 8i. Opie the painter, R.A., buried in St Paul's I807,
also became an acquaintance of Godwin first in this year.
With Amelia Alderson, who became Mrs Opie, he had
formed a fast friendship during his visit to Norwich in 1793,
and many letters had already passed between them. He
paid another and a more extended visit to Dr Parr at
Hatton, near Warwick, in the summer of this year. Though
Mrs Shelley records that he had become disgusted with the
excesses of the French Revolution, it must not be supposed
that he had in any degree wavered in his allegiance to its
principles, or shrunk from.such of its acts as sprung from
deliberation.  Thus we find an entry: "June 9th, The
Young Capet dies," showing that he acquiesced at least in
the deposition of Louis XVI., and the degradation of his
family from all royal titles.
Holcroft had gone to Exeter during Godwin's absence
from London, and from Broadclyst, near Exeter, he
addressed the following letter to his friend:Thomas Holcroft to William Godwin.
"CLIST, 7uly 22d, 1795.
"Had I not forgotten the place of Dr Parr's residence, you
would have received the 'Lamentations of Jeremiah' from me.
You would have heard how I fell from a slip ladder, and broke it
fairly in two; how, with difficulty, I kept what your friend at
Hatton calls soul and body together; how I endeavoured to overcome the extreme pain, but at last was obliged, partly by entreaty




'So


WILLIAM GODWIN.


and partly by precaution to send for a village surgeon; how he
took a full basin of blood from me; how, half an hour after his
departure, the spasms with which I had before been seized
assaulted me with two-fold, or, for aught I know, with ten-fold
malignity; how I was obliged to send to Exeter for another Dr
in search of ease; how he affirmed my ribs were broken; how I
-believe they were not, but am not quite certain; how he made
me swallow potions which proved to be opiates, and which
indeed relieved me in part from spasm, but consigned me over to
drowsy stupidity, which to me appeared a more intolerable evil;
how I was roused from this lethargic struggle after existence by a
severe fit of the gout; how I lay with my joints burning and my
muscles cramped and twisted, during which I had full leisure for
the display of my system 'of resistance to pain;' how I persuaded
myself, in spite of my tormentors, that my system was true; how
it induced me to laugh and joke, and exercise my little wits on
all that came within my sphere of action; how some believed I
was in pain, and some believed I was not; and how difficult I
found it to define to myself what pain is. In short, like my pre'decessor Grumio, I would have told you a very tragical tale, had
not my ignorance of your local existence prevented me.
" The gout has not yet left me, though I carry it about in a very
clandestine kind of a manner; and till it has disappeared, I am
advised not to bathe again; being further advised that bathing
would be very good for me. Hence you will perceive I have not
escaped that Tyrant Necessity-(if you can tell me when I shall,
pray send me the intelligence by express, I will venture the
expense)-and that the Necessity of which I am now the slave is.
uncertainty.
"I have had occasion to talk of you, or rather of your essence,
your 'Political Justice,' and your 'Caleb.' If you suppose I understand you, I need not tell you in what terms I spoke. I sometimes doubt whether it be right, i.e., necessary, to declare sentiments of personal affection; yet I still seem more strongly to doubt
whether it be right totally to omit such declarations; for impossible as it is that men should perceive utility, or if you will virtue,




HOLCROFT AND CUOPER.


I5i


and not love it, yet the temporary uncertainties to which the
clearest minds appear to be subject, may render declarations concerning our feelings necessary. To what accidents you or I shall
hereafter be liable is more than either of us can positively determine; but it seems to me our minds have proceeded too far for
there to be any probability that our sentiments respecting each
other should suffer any great change. Still, if it be pleasure to
remind each other that we deserve and possess something more
than mutual esteem, I see no good motive for abstaining from the
enjoyment of this pleasure.
"I hope you have renewed your visits in Newman Street. As
this letter will perhaps be a more circumstantial narrative of my
late disaster than any they have yet received, be kind enough to
communicate the contents at home.
" Mr Cooper, partly in consequence of my desire, and partly, as
I suppose, from the decisions of his own judgment, remains near
me some time to pursue his studies. I wish, perhaps more than
a wise man ought, to be at home. Whether this impulse, or the
hope of re-establishing my health shall prevail, must be left to
future circumstances: my return, however, cannot be very distant.
" T. HOLCROFT."
" How came I to omit saying that you have a few warm admirers here, and that the report of your second edition has committed
homicide upon the first? In my opinion, should the publishing
be delayed, both will be injured."
Holcroft's faith that death and disease existed only
through the feebleness of man's mind, must have been rudely
shaken, unless we accept the dictum of Jean Paul, that no
man really believes his creed till he can afford to laugh
at it.
The only other letters of special interest preserved during
his year are two from Cooper. He had not yet made the




152


WILLIA M GOD WIN.


figure on the stage which he and his friends alike hoped
that he would do: life was sustained with difficulty on ten
shillings a week and a chance partridge. Hence he
accepted a clerk's situation in an office, and appears to
have been under a regular agreement. He was ill-treated,
or thought himself so, and discharged himself by running
away. No trouble, however, was taken by Mr Dorset, his
employer, to recover the young man, who probably had not
been the most docile of clerks, and he then went to study
his chosen profession with Holcroft. How he supported
himself, or if Godwin again helped him, does not appear.
With these few words the letters speak for themselves.
Thomas Cooper to William Godwin.
" anuary 20, I795.
"The die is, I believe, now finally cast, and if it be, the result
is insignificance, nonentity, death to the hopes my ambition has
oftentimes formed, and on which my mind has continually
brooded with enthusiasm. The little portion of mind I (perhaps)
have hitherto retained has now yielded. It receives its fetters, not
indeed without murmuring, but the curses it pours forth and the
tortures it endures are equally unavailing. The love of fame,
which you consider a bad motive for praiseworthy conduct, has
been with me the only spur to intellectual exertion. Perhaps it is
for want of the better motive for action that my mind has now
given up the contest, and that I consent to become totally an
everyday man. Your last words to me on Sunday night were,
'And thou become a mere vegetable.' The damned idea has
harassed me ever since.....     But why do I complain?
Have I not given my consent to become a slave? Have I not even
sought for the means of becoming so? What right then have I
to assume the phraseology or to pretend to the feelings of a man?
They are the last faint struggles of an expiring mind, and to you
therefore I address them, as being -the first cause of producing




COOPER AS A CLERK.


153


that mind.......   I feel half inclined to go and quarrel
with Mr Holcroft. I do not know, and have not inquired, why 1
feel that inclination (I state facts: of causes I am ignorant), though
at the same time I have the utmost veneration and love for him.
The purport of my present letter is to tell you that I
am under treaty with Mr Dorset (fiends!) to become a clerk in his
house, and by this means I intend to advance towards riches.
"THOMAS COOPER."
The Same to the Same.
"EXETER, 7uly 25, 1795.
"I am at a loss to discover wherein consists the singularity of
requesting a letter from one I have been in the habit of considering my most immediate and intimate friend. That you should
think it singular, I do not wonder, as you presently take care to
inform me that in so considering I labour under a mistake
You say that I shall probably be sorry for having asked you to
write, when I have read a certain portion of your letter. This
would be the case, perhaps, if anything any man could say to me
would make me sorry. But I am not easily moved to contrition
or repentance, either by falsehood or truth; and it does not in the
least operate in that way. When truth is presented to me, I hope
I shall grow better under the perception of it. When falsehood
blows her foul breath upon me, it passes by like the idle wind I
regard not. Since therefore, I am invulnerable, I rejoice rather
than repent that I requested a letter, as the reception of it has, in
some measure, let me into the state of your feelings.
"You say that my pretence of a ten days' ramble appears to be a
cloak for a visit to Bath. What criminality there is in a visit to
Bath that should require a cloak, I cannot perceive; but take my
word for it, whatever desperate villany I may engage in shall not
be under a cloak; and when, as you express it, I sink into vice, it
shall not be into its sourness; it shall be into the dashing whirlpool
that openly destroys everything around it. Therefore, whenever
vice becomes my object, notorious shall be the fact.
"THOMAS COOPER."




I54


WILLIAM GOD WIN.


Godwin writes, of I796:
"In the preceding year the Earl of Lauderdale had requested'
the favour of my acquaintance, and now I was almost a regular
attendant at his most select parties.  The persons I met at
them were Mr Fox, General Fitzpatrick, Lord Derby, Sir Philip
Francis, Mr Adam, Mr Tiemey, Mr Courtenay, Mr Dudley North,
Mr William Smith, Mr Robert Adair, &c., &c.   In my little
deserted mansion I received, on the 22d of April, a party of"
twelve persons, the most of whom good-humouredly invited themselves to dine with me, and for whom I ordered provisions from a
neighbouring coffee-house. Among this party were Dr Parr and
his two daughters, Mr and Mrs Mackintosh, Mr Holcroft, Mrs
Wollstonecraft, and Mrs Inchbald. I was also introduced about
this time by Merry, the poet, to a most accomplished and delightful woman, the celebrated Mrs Robinson. In the course of this
summer I paid a second visit to Norfolk, in the company of
Merry, and had the happiness, by my interference and importunity
with my friends, to relieve this admirable man from a debt of
~J200, for which he was arrested while I was under his roof, and
would otherwise have been thrown into jail."
To this the Diary adds but little. It records, in-scarce
intelligible private notes, the increasing intimacy with Mary
Wollstonecraft, of which more hereafter; and there is some
evidence that Godwin during this year might, even at his
mature age, have said in reference to her as Proteus said
of Julia" Thou hast metamorphos'd me,
Made me neglect my studies, lose my time;"
for the record of work is slender, and there is less evidence
of interest in public questions.
Two letters, however, claim insertion.  King, the Jew
bill-broker already named, was concerned in a trial arising




KING THE MONEY LEADER.


I5S.


out of his not altogether creditable business. He wrote to
Godwin, requesting him to appear as his friend and supporter,
and to use his influence with "some nobleman" to do the
same. This letter is worded somewhat vaguely; and it does
not appear whether he wanted evidence to character given
in his favour, or merely the moral support in the eyes of the
public which would have been afforded by such appearance
of distinguished men in court by his side. The following
very characteristic letter is an answer to this application:William Godwin to Yohn King.
"yan. 24, 1796.
"I am extremely surprised at the note I have just received from
you, and hasten to oppose the false statement it contains. From
the first moment I was acquainted with you, it was a contest between me and several of my friends, and partly in my own mind,
whether or no I ought to be acquainted with a man, of whom, to
say the least, the world entertained a very ill opinion, respecting
the justice of which I could be no competent judge. Upon what
grounds, do you think, I decided that contest? I said, ' It would
be -absurd for me to attempt to associate only with immaculate
persons; nor do. I believe that the right way to attempt to correct
the errors of the vicious, is that all honest men should desert
them.' As to the frequency of my visits, I appeal to your own
memory whether I ever sought that frequency. Did you imagine
that your dinners were to be a bribe, seducing me to depart from
the integrity of my judgment? That would be a character meaner
than that of the poorest pensioner of the vilest court that ever
existed.
"You seem to insinuate that I ought to appear in court as your
friend and supporter. I have always avoided connecting myself
with any set of men, even though Charles Fox should be at their
head. I will stand or fall by my own character, and my own
principles. Are. you ignorant that, if I were to show myself as
your supporter, it would be considered as a declaration, not merely




I,6


WILLIAM GOD VIN.


that I thought you injured by Alex. Champion, Esq., of Winchester
Street, but that I approved -of the general spirit of your transaction
with Philips, and other similar transactions? If I were asked in
open court whether, upon the whole, I believed that your money
transactions were immaculate, or that they had in some instances
been very exceptionable, what do you think would be my answer?
"You call upon me for an act of friendship, and the act you
demand would be scarcely of any imaginable use to you. At the
same time you show very little friendship in the demand. Why
should my character be involved with yours, which however as
you may conceive undeservedly labours under a very extensive
odium? Why should I bring obloquy upon all my future, and all
my past labours? No sir, I will retain my little portion of usefulness undiminished. Whatever may be my share of good opinion
with the world, it shall be injured by no man's vices but my own.
Should I not be both fool and knave if I did otherwise?
"You oblige me to treat you unceremoniously. But I must
venture that rather than be misunderstood. Otherwise I certainly
would have refused to give you pain, especially at the present
moment. If there were anything I could do for your service that I
could be brought to think reasonable, I would most cheerfully do
it. I wish you all imaginable happiness, but I cannot sacrifice my
independence and my judgment. Upon this footing, and this
explanation being given, I am willing that our acquaintance
should either cease or continue, as best suits your inclinations.
It is perhaps impossible that one human being should have
a repeated good humoured intercourse with another, without
increasing in kindness towards him.  But, remember, I can
dine at a man's table, without being prepared to be the partisan
of his measures and proceedings.
"What a strange dilemma do you create for your acquaintance!
If I had ceased to visit you, you would have censured me, as
unnecessarily squeamish and fastidious. I have continued to visit
you, and you conclude that I ought to be ready to proceed all
lengths with you.
"W. GODWIN."




MISS ALDERSON.


157 -

The intimacy was continued. King's reply has in it
something of bluster, mixed with a great desire not to
quarrel with Godwin, and ends thus;
-7. King to William  Godwin.
"24 PICCADILLY, 7anry. 26th, i796.
I am ashamed of the illiberality about dining with me.
Do I expect every man to be my partizan who dines with me, ordesist my invitations when he differs from me in opinion? I say I
understand you now, but I still like you, and perhaps you will
hereafter like me better when you know me more, and the impracticability of your own theory. Merry and Este dine with me
to-morrow when I expect you will join them.  JOHN KING."
It appears from the diary that the invitation was
accepted.
Godwin's fearlessness to offend his own friends and
supporters, if duty called him to oppose them in any
degree, appears in a nobler manner in a letter to Erskine
in reference to his defence of political prisoners, in which
he thought Erskine compromised principle for the sake of
results, and there are many other letters of criticism to
Fawcet and others showing the same fearlessness, but
these have not in them otherwise anything to call for
special remark. The same may be said of a correspondence which began to be frequent between himself and MissAlderson.  Godwin's replies to the lady's letters are not
extant, and hers do not at this period show any great
literary power. They are lively and pleasant, and show
Miss Alderson as she was in days which afterwards seemed
to her frivolous, and in which she was unconverted. An
extract from one may here be transcribed, as it gives thelast glimpse of an old friend.




158


WVILLIA.M GOD WIN.


Miiss Alderson to William Godwin.
"NORWICH, 5th of Febry., 1796.
".. I called on your old friend Mrs Southern about a month
ago, and asked her opinion of 'Caleb Williams:' now, pray let
not thy noble courage be cast down when I inform you that both
Mrs S. and her daughter think you talk too favourably of wicked
men, and that 'Italian Letters' (your first novel), are vastly
prettier than ' Caleb Williams.' Console yourself, my good friend,
by reflecting on the fable of the old man and his ass."
Mrs Sothren had become more tolerant since in I788
the fact that Godwin had turned novel-writer had given
the good lady "serious concern."
There is some reason to suppose that Godwin had at
one moment seriously thought of asking Amelia Alderson
to be his wife, and that not long before his intimacy with
Mary Wollstonecraft, but whether the lady or her father
declined the alliance, or whether no offer was actually
made, it is plain that the feeling between the two was at no
time warmer than a sincere friendship. Nor was there a
shade of pique or jealousy to come between Miss Alderson
and Mary Wollstonecraft. They were no sooner acquainted,
in the spring of this year, than they became fast friends,
and in one of the letters still preserved from Miss Alderson
to Mrs Imlay (Mary Wollstonecraft) is this curious sentence,
that whatever Miss Alderson had seen before for the first
time had always disappointed her, "except Mrs Imlay and
the Cumberland Lakes." She was one of the persons who
always looked with interest on the intimacy between
Godwin and Mary Wollstonecraft, and rejoiced when their
marriage was declared.




MRS ROBINVSON.


I59


The relation in which this remarkable woman stood to
Inlay and to Godwin, and the light in which the very
exceptional nature of the case may present itself to us,
will be presently considered. No doubt, however, not only
She, but Mrs Inchbald and others, may be in some degree
compromised by the association with one who has been
mentioned in Godwin's notes-Mrs Robinson. This lady,
whose maiden name was Darby, had married very young,
and her marriage had proved unhappy. She went on the
stage, and while acting Perdita in the Winter's Tale, had
the ill fortune to attract the notice of the Prince of Wales,
whose mistress she became. This connection was short, but
was not the only one she formed. At this time she was
living on a pension from the Prince, and was received in a
certain society, chiefly literary and theatrical.
There is a radical difference between the life of one
who honestly believed, on moral grounds, that marriage as
usually understood is a mistake, and that true marriage can
dispense with outward forms, and is an union of the heart
and mind, and one who necessarily and avowedly was only
the object and ministress of a fleeting passion of the basest
sort. Yet even republicans were then dazzled by the name
of a-prince, and the shame of a royal amour was felt less
then than perhaps it now would be. The day had gone by,
if indeed it ever had been, save in the imagination of a song
writer, when such a connection would be repudiated with the
scorn expressed in, the fine old ballad of " Mary Ambree,"
nor had that day dawned, if now it has, in which to be the
mistress of a prince is held to be the lowest and most fatal
degradation, because in that case alone must the mistress
abandon all hope of ever being made " an honest woman"
by him who has wronged her.
With this halo of false stage light around her, Mrs




i6o


WILLIAM1 GODWIN.


Robinson appears to have been a very agreeable woman,
and her society was eagerly cultivated.
The record of the year may close with the following letter:
Mrs Godwin sen. to William Godwin.
[No date, but Mrs Sothren died Dec. 12, 1796. The top of the page is wanting.]
" Mrs Sothren pass'd out of this life in a serene Slumber. She
had been down stairs the day before; eat some minc'd turkey,
and, with taking hold of ye maids arm, walked about the room.
Departed abt. 4 o'clock Thursday morng., 22 inst. Mr Sothren
sent a messinger yt same morning to acquaint me of the Awful
event; your brother Hully attended ye funeral on Lord's Day
morng.; a Hears and mourg Coach; Mr and Mrs Sothren, Mr
and Mrs Hatton, H. G. and Miss Jane, in ye coach; barers 5s. a
piece. She said she thought she would be too heavy to be carried
on men's sholders: your brother slept at the Widow Nutter's, a
very nice woman: the deare Creature was a pattern of strict piety,
Humility, patience, doing good to all as far as she had ability
and opportunity; tho' not rich in this world's goods, was rich
in the promises, disclaiming all merit of her own, owning she
had nothing but what she had recieved. Others have a loss, a
great one, but myself the greatest; to die is her gain, as St Paul
saith of himself. It now remains that we keep her steps in mind,
that we may meet her, with all our pious friends, in the realms of
Joy and Peace. She has desired yo sh'd have her watch, yr Sister
can give yo further particulars. She did not mean to make a will,
as her Estate was not at her Disposal after her death. I sent you
a Hare 13 Instant, did yo receive it, was it good and of any use;
sh'd you like anything else better. If you have a few spare minutes,
sh'd like to receive a letter fr you, and to be informed if there is
any alteration for the better in Josh. respecting his family. I hear
a poor account of his aunt Barber, yt is, that she is a kept Miss to
Mr H. Hall. I shall inclose this in a goose for my daughter
Joseph, directed to Son John.-I am, with sincear affection, yours,
"A. GODWIN."




CHAPTER VII.


THE    WO LLSTONE CRAFTS. 1759-1791.
GODWIN'S increasing intimacy with Mary Wollstonecraft
has been already noticed. She had not made any great
impression on him at their earliest meetings, nor, when he
first knew her, had she ceased to consider herself as virtually the wife of Imlay, whose name she bore. The treatment she had received from this person, however, was such
that when the connection was finally dissolved, the bitterness of parting was already past, and the affectionate friendship existing -between herself and Godwin passed easily into
a warmer feeling. There were, however, many reasons on
both sides which rendered the idea of marriage distasteful.
Mrs Shelley has left a note in regard to her father which
must be given at length.
" He was very averse to marriage. Poverty was a strong argument against it. When he concocted a code of morals in 'Political
Justice,' he warmly opposed a system which exacted a promise to
be kept to the end of life, in spite of every alteration of circumstance and of feeling. Objections to marriage are usually supposed to infer an approval, and even practice, of illicit intercourse.
This was far from being the case with Godwin. He was in a V
supreme degree a conscientious man, utterly opposed to anything
like vice or libertinism, nor did his sense of duty permit him to indulge in any deviation from the laws of society, which, though he
might regard as unjust, could not, he felt, be infringed without
deception and injury to any woman who should act in opposition


I.


L




i62


WILLIAM GODWIN.


to them. The loss of usefulness to both parties, which the very
stigma brings, the natural ties of children, entailing duties which
necessitate the duration of any connection, and which, if tampered
with, must end in misery, all these motives were imperative in
preventing him from acting on theories, which yet he did not like
to act against.
" Among his acquaintance were several women, to whose society
he was exceedingly partial, and who were all distinguished for personal attraction and talents. Among them may be mentioned the
celebrated Mary Robinson, whom to the end of his life he considered as the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, but though he
admired her so greatly, their acquaintance scarcely attained intimate friendship. It was otherwise with Mrs Inchbald; he saw her
frequently, he delighted in her manners, her conversation, her
loveliness; yet he was not in love, and, above all, never thought
of marrying her. He was intimate with Miss Alderson, afterwards
Mrs Opie, but their friendship is purely such as is formed every
day in society. He admired her beauty and sprightliness. She
liked his conversation and respected his talents.
"There was yet another favourite. She was married, and this
circumstance was a barrier to every sentiment except friendship,
but he certainly experienced for her more of tenderness and preference than for any other among his acquaintance."
It will be plain from what has been already said that Mrs
Shelley may possibly have been misinformed about Miss
Alderson. There seems reason to believe that Godwin did
contemplate marriage with her, and did make a proposal
on the subject to Dr Alderson, if not to the lady herself.
The lady to whom Mrs Shelley alludes in the last paragraph
is of course Mrs Reveley, afterwards Mrs Gisborne. It may
be added that Godwin's dislike of what in "Political
Justice" he terms "co-habitation," i.e., in his use of the
word, the living perpetually in the same house with
another plerson, and having no time or place which can be




MARY TWOLLSTONECRAFT.


i63


considered absolutely one's own, without unkindness or (
incivility, worked greatly in aid of his graver theoretical
objections to marriage. It is now necessary to give a
detailed account of her who broke the even tenor of Godwin's passionless existence, who for his sake altered not a
little her own views, and whose character has been a mark
for severer censure than those of women who to a far
greater extent than herself have run counter to the prejudices and instincts of ordinary society.
Mary Wollstonecraft, who was born April 27, 1759, was the
eldest daughter of a large family, the children of a man who
had inherited and spent a considerable fortune. The family
appear to have been originally of Irish extraction, but
Mary's grandfather was a respectable manufacturer in
Spitalfields, and realized the property which his son
squandered. Her mother's maiden name was Elizabeth
Dixon. She was Irish, and of good family. Mr Wollstonecraft was not bred to any profession, but after he
had come to the end of his money he left Hoxton, where
he had lived for a short time, and after many changes of
residence-to Essex and to Beverley, in Yorkshire, among
others-he went to live at Laughamrne in Pembrokeshire,
where he had a farm. He soon, however, returned to
London for a time. Mary Godwin's mother died in I780,
leaving six children-Edward, an attorney, settled near the
Tower in London; Mary, Everina, and Eliza, James, afterwards in the.Navy; and Charles, who finally emigrated to
America. Mr Wollstonecraft speedily married again, but
though his wife seems to have done what she could to keep
him out of difficulties, he was a man of idle and dissipated
habits, and dropped ever lower in fortune and respectability.




I64.


WILLIAM GOD WIN.


His home became no fit place for his daughters, who indeed
were obliged to endeavour to earn their own livelihood.
Mary had a friend in Fanny Blood, a girl of her own age,
and whose circumstances were somewhat similar. Fanny
Blood supported her family as an artist, and lived for some
time at Walham Green, where Mary joined her, and earned
her livelihood by helping Mrs Blood, who took in needlework. She looked to an independent career as a teacher in
a school; Everina went to keep her brother's house; and
Eliza married, when circumstances occurred which threw
on her a far greater amount of responsibility and difficulty.
Eliza Wollstonecraft had married a Mr Bishop, but the
marriage had proved from the first an unhappy one. It is
more than probable there were faults on both sides. All
the Wollstonecraft sisters were enthusiastic, excitable, and
hasty-tempered, apt to exaggerate trifles, sensitive to
magnify inattention into slights, and slights into studied
insults. All had bad health of a kind which is especially
trying to the nerves, and Eliza had in excess the family
temperament and constitution. With a great desire for
culture and self-improvement, she had less actual education
than Everina, and very far less than her gifted sister Mary,
so that there was little to counteract the waywardness of a
hasty disposition. Yet with all this there can be no doubt
that Bishop was a man of furious violence, and from the
letters which remain it would seem that many of the painful scenes in Mary's unfinished novel, "The Wrongs of
Women," are simple transcriptions of what she had known
or even witnessed in her sister's married life.
Mary, much attached to all her brothers and sisters, was
devoted to Eliza, and considered no sacrifice too great to
make for her. To save her from her misery, she at once
gave up all hopes for the time of- an independent career,




SCHOOL-KEEPIN"G.


and so soon as it was determined that Eliza should leave
her husband, resolved to make a home for her. On Mary
fell the real responsibility of urging so strong a step as
her sister's flight not only from Mr Bishop, but also from
their child. But Mrs Bishop's reason had all but given way
under her trials, and to escape was the immediate and only
course which presented itself. As soon as a final separation
from Bishop had been effected, Mary took lodgings at
Islington with Fanny Blood. The scheme proposed was
that Mary and Eliza should obtain daily pupils, and that
Fanny Blood should maintain herself as an artist. This
plan was tried for a very short time, but with no success,
and the sisters then removed to Newington Green, where
they had some influential friends, and soon obtained about
twenty day-scholars. A relation, Mrs Campbell, and her
little son, came to board with them, as well as another lady
and her three children. This flash of prosperity induced
Mary to take a larger house, the expense of which involved
her in serious difficulties. The sum due for the board of the
three children was irregularly paid, and the Green proved
too small a place in those days to support a day-school,
which should prove remunerative. It subsisted, however, in
a languishing state for two years and a half.
George Blood, Mrs Skeys' younger brother, had also a
great share of her affection. His, disposition and the unfortunate condition of his home, since his father was a
drunken spendthrift, attracted her to the lad, and she felt
also much for him because he entertained a hopeless,
unrequited love for her sister Everina, who was considerably older than herself. Somewhat wild and reckless while
a mere lad, and somewhat unsettled, he accepted a situation as clerk near Lisbon, with hopes of promotion, but
abandoned it almost at once. He then returned to Ire



I66


W'ILLIAM GOD WIN.


land, where his father was settled in a situation far beyond
his deserts, gained some good appointment, and appears
to have done very well. During several years Mary's
correspondence with George Blood was frequent and intimate, and some of her letters to him, as well as those to
her sisters, will at once fill up details, and receive illustration from this sketch of her life at Newington. Those who
have known Mary Wollstonecraft only by reports which
may have reached them of her after career, and by secondhand criticism on her writings, will be astonished to find in
them so strong a vein of piety of the type that would now
be called evangelical.
Mafy Wollstonecraft to Everina Wollstonecraft.
"Saturday Afternoon [Arovember 1783].
"I expected to have seen you before this, but the extreme coldness of the weather is a sufficient apology. I cannot yet give any
certain account of Bess, or form a rational conjecture with respect
to the termination of her disorder. She has not had a violent fit
of frenzy since I saw you, but her mind is in a most unsettled
state, and attending to the constant fluctuation of it is far more
harassing than the watching those raving fits that had not the least
tincture of reason. Her ideas are all disjointed, and a number of
wild whims float on her imagination, and fall from her unconnectedly, something like strange dreams when judgment sleeps, and
fancy sports at a fine rate. Don't smile at my language, for I am
so constantly forced to observe her-lest she run into mischiefthat my thoughts continually turn on the unaccountable wanderings of her mind. She seems'to think she has been very ill used,
and, in short, till I see some more favourable symptoms, I shall
only suppose that her malady has assumed a new and more distressing appearance.
"One thing, by way of comfort, I must tell you, that persons
who recover from madness are generally in this way before they are




MRS BISHOP.


I67


perfectly restored, but whether Bess's faculties will ever regain their
former tone, time only will show. At present I am in suspense.
Let me hear from you or see you, and believe me to be yours
affectionately,                                  M. W.
a" Mr D. promised to call last night, and I intended sending this
by him. We have been out in a coach, but still Bess is far from
being well. Patience-Patience. Farewell.
"Sunday, noon."
The Same to the Same.
"[December 1783].
"I don't know what to do. Poor Eliza's situation almost turns
my brain. I can't stay and see this continual misery, and to leave
her to bear it by herself without any one to comfort her, is still
more distressing. I whould do anything to rescue her from her
present situation. My head is quite confused with thus being to
so little purpose. In this case something desperate must be determined on. Do you think Edward will receive her? Do speak to
him; or if you imagine that I should have more influence on his
mind, I will contrive to see you, but you must caution him against
expostulating with or even mentioning the affair to Bishop, for it
would only put him on his guard, and we should have a stormn to
encounter that I tremble to think of. I am convinced that this is
the only- expedient to save Bess, and she declares she had rather
be a teacher than stay here. I must again repeat it, you must be
secret; nothing can be done till she leaves the house. For his
friend Wood very justly said that he was 'either a lion or a
spaniel.' I have been some time deliberating on this, for I can't
help pitying B., but misery must be his portion at any rate till be
alters himself, and that would be a miracle.
" To be at Edwvard's is not desirable, but of the two evils she
must choose the least. Write a line by the bearer, or by the post
to-morrow-don't fail. I need not urge you to use your endeavours; if I did not see it was absolutely necessary, I should not
have fixed on it. 1 tell you she will soon be deprived of reason.




I68


WILLIAM GOD WFIV.


B. cannot behave properly, and those who would attempt to reason
with him must be mad, or have very little observation. Those
who would save Bess must act and not talk."
The Samne to the Same.
"Monday Morning [yanuary 1784].
"I have nothing to tell you, my dear girl, that will give you
pleasure. Yesterday was a dismal day, long and dreary. Bishop
was very ill, &c., &c. He is much better to-day, but misery haunts
this house in one shape or other. How sincerely do I join with
you in saying that if a person has common sense they cannot make
one completely unhappy. But to attempt to lead or govern a
weak mind is impossible; it will ever press forward to what it
wishes, regardless of impediments, and, with a selfish eagerness,
believe what it desires practicable, though the contrary is as clear
as the noonday. My spirits are hurried with listening to pros and
cons; and my head is so confused, that I sometimes say no, when
I ought to say yes. My heart is almost broken with listening to B.
while he reasons the case. I cannot insult him with advice, which
he would never have wanted, if he was capable of attending to it.
May my habitation never be fixed among the tribe that can't look
beyond the present gratification-that draw fixed conclusions from
general rules-that attend to the literal meaning only, and because
a thing ought to be, expect that it will come to pass. B. has made
a confidant of Skeys; and as I can never speak to him in private,
I suppose his pity may cloud his judgment. If it does, I should not
either wonder at it or blame him. For I that know, and am fixed
in my opinion, cannot unwaveringly adhere to it; and when I
reason, I am afraid of being unfeeling. Miracles don't occur now,
and only a miracle can alter the minds of some people. They
grow old, and we can only discover by their countenances that
they are so. To the end of the chapter will their misery last. I
expect Fanny next Thursday, and she will stay with us but a few
days. Bess desires her love; she grows better, and of course
more sad."




LETTERS TO EVERINA.


-i69


The Same to the Same.
7anuaru' 1784.]
"Here we are, Everina; but my trembling hand will scarce let
me tell you so. Bess is much more composed than I expected
her to be; but to make my trial still more dreadful, I was afraid
in the coach she was going to have one of her flights, for she bit
her wedding-ring to pieces. When I can recollect myself, I'll
send you particulars; but, at present, my heart beats time with
every carriage that rolls by, and a knocking at the door almfost
throws me into a fit. I hope B. will not discover us, for I could
sooner face a lion; yet the door never opens, but I expect to see
him panting for breath. Ask Ned how we are to behave if he
should find us out, for Bess is determined not to return. Can he
force her?-but I'll not suppose it, yet I can think of nothing else.
She is sleepy, and going to bed; my agitated mind will not permit
me. Don't tell Charles or any creature. Oh! let me entreat you
to be careful, for Bess does not dread him now so much as I do.
Again, let me request you to write, as B.'s behaviour may silence
-my fears. You will soon hear from me again. Fanny carried
many things to Lear's, brush-maker in the Strand, next door to
the White Hart.-Yours,                            MARY.
"Miss Johnston-Mrs Dodds; opposite the Mermaid, Church
St., Hackney.
" She looks now very wild. Heaven protect us!
" I almost wish for an husband, for I want somebody to support
me."
Thze Same to tMe Same.
"Sunday Afternoon,anuary 1784].
" Your welcome letter arrived just now, and we thank you for
sending it so soon. Your account of B. does not surprise me, as
I am convinced that, to gratify the ruling passion, he could command all the rest. The plea of the child occurred to me, and it




I70


WILLIAM GOD WItN.


was the most rational thing he could complain of. I know he will
tell a plausible tale, and the generality will pity him and blame me;
but, however, if we can snatch Bess from extreme wretchedness,
what reason shall we have to rejoice. It was, indeed, a very disagreeable affair; and if we had stayed a day or two longer, I believe
it would never have been effected.  For Bess's mind was so
harassed with the fear of being discovered, and the thought of
leaving the child, that she could not have stood it long. I suppose
B. told you how we escaped; there was full as much good luck as
good management in it. As to Bess, she was so terrified, that she
lost all presence of mind, and would have done anything. I took
a second coach, to prevent his tracing us. Well, all this may
serve to talk about and laugh at when we meet, but it was no
laughing matter at the time. Bess is tolerably well; she cannot
help sighing about little Mary, whom she tenderly loved; and on
this score I both love and pity her. The poor brat! it had got a
little hold on my affections; some time or other I hope we shall
get it. Yesterday we were two languid ladies; and even now we
have pains in all our limbs, and are as jaded as if we had taken a
long journey... All these disorders will give way to time, if it
brings a little tranquillity with it; and the thought of having assisted
to bring about so desirable an event, will ever give me pleasure to
think of. I hope you sent the letters I enclosed to you, as Bess
writ a few very proper lines to B. I am very glad you are in town,
as I depend on you for keeping Ned firm. B. would make a more
determined person flinch. This quiet portends no good; he will
burst out at last, and the calm will end in the usual manner. Tell
my brother that Bess is fixed in her resolution of never returning;
but what will be the consequence? And if a separate maintenance
is not to be obtained, she'll try to earn her own bread. Write to
us an account of everything; you cannot be too particular. She
carried off almost all her clothes, but we have no linen. I wish
you could contrive to send us a few changes at the first opportunity,
it matters not whom they belong to. We have neither chemise,
handkerchief, or apron, so our necessities are pressing,"




RELIGIOUS CONSOLATIONS.                  171
The Same to the Same.
L7anuary 1784.]
[After discussing the possibility of keeping a school.]  "With
economy we can live on a guinea a week, and that we can with
ease earn.  The lady who gave Fanny five guineas for two
drawings will assist us and we shall be independent.... If Ned
makes us a little present of furniture it will be very acceptable,
but if he is prudent, we must try to do without it. I knew I
should be the Mrs Brown-the shameful incendiary, in this
shocking affair of a woman's leaving her bed-fellow, they thought
the strong affection of a sister mzight apologize for my conduct, but
that the scheme was by no means a good one.    In short 'tis
contrary to all the rules of conduct that are published for the
benefit of new married ladies, by whose advice Mrs Brook was
actuated when she with grief of heart gave up my friendship.
Mrs Clare too, with cautious words approves of our conduct, and
were she to see B. might advise a reconciliation....
" Don't suppose I am preaching, when I say uniformity of
conduct cannot in any degree be expected from those whose first
motive of action is not the pleasing the Supreme Being, and
those who humbly rely on Providence will not only be supported
in affliction, but have a Peace imparted to them that is past all
describing. This state is indeed a warfare, and we learn little that
we don't smart for in the attaining. The cant of weak enthusiasts
has made the consolations of Religion and the assistance of the
Holy Spirit appear ridiculous to the inconsiderate, but it is the only
solid foundation of comfort that the weak efforts of reason will be
assisted and our hearts and minds corrected and improved till the
time arrives when we shall not only see perfection, but see every
- creature around us happy.... "
Fanny Blood to Everina Wollstonecraft.
" WALHAM GREEN, Febry. l8th, 1784.
" MY DEAR EVERINA.-The situation of our two poor girls
grows ever more and more desperate. My mind is tortured about




I72


7WILLIAM GOD WIN.


them because I cannot see any possible resource they have for a
maintenance. The letter I last night received from Mary disturbed
me so much that I never since closed my eyes, and my head is
this morning almost distracted. I find she wrote to her brother
informing him that it-was our intention to live all together, and
earn our bread by painting and needle-work, which gives me great
uneasiness, as I am convinced that he will be displeased at his
sister's being connected with me, and the forfeiting his favour at
this time is of the utmost consequence. I believe it was I that
first proposed the plan, and in my eagerness to enjoy the society
of two so dear to me, I did not give myself time to consider that
it is utterly impracticable. The very utmost I could earn, one
week with another, supposing I had uninterrupted health, is half-aguinea a week, which would just pay for furnished lodgings for
three people to pig together. As for needle-work, it is utterly
impossible they could earn more than half-a-guinea a week
between them, supposing they had constant employment, which
is of all things the most uncertain....  I own with sincere
sorrow that I was greatly to blame for ever mentioning such a
plan before I had maturely considered it; but as those who
know me will give me credit for a good intention I trust they will
pardon my folly and inconsideration."  [She then suggests that a
small haberdashery shop should be taken and stocked for the
sisters,-and proceeds.]  "If your brother should be averse to
assisting them from a notion that I should live with them.... I
wish you would take the earliest opportunity of assuring him from
me that on no account whatever will I ever live with them unless
fortune should make me quite independent, which I never expect.
My health is so much impaired that I should be only a burthen
on them, and for my own part I don't spend a thought on what
may become of me. All I wish is to see them provided for -
comfortably; but I will neither add to their distress, situated as
they now are, nor meanly gain a subsistence by living with them
hereafter, if fortune should smile on them. This is my fixed
resolve. I beseech you to let me hear from you as soon as
possible, for I am impatient to know whether there is the least




FAAWY BLOOD'S MARRIAGE.


173


prospect of comfort for our dear girls. Believe me to be, dear
Everina, yours-sincerely,                   F. BLOOD."
In the spring of the following year Fanny Blood
married Mr Hugh Skeys, a merchant, and went with
him to Lisbon. Mr Skeys had played fast and loose for
some time, the uncertainty had greatly injured her health,
and her new found happiness was to be of short duration. -She left behind great sorrows. Her sister Caroline had disgraced her family, and her father drank.
George, who was steady and respectable, had yet been
mixed up with some discreditable associates, and had gone
to -Ireland only in time to avoid being seriously compromised by his association with them. Mary's letters throw
light on the trials of the Blood family as well as on her
own.
Mary Wolistonecraft to Georfge Blood.
"NEWINGTON GREEN, 7U-y 3d [1785].
"The pleasure I felt at hearing of your safe arrival [in Ireland]
was a good deal damped by the account you gave of the captain's
brutality. By this time I hope all the effects of so disagreeable a
voyage are gone off except your being a little weather-beaten or
so; and you and I don't think that of much consequence, we have
met with so many rough blasts that have sunk deeper than the
skin. You need not have made any apology to me about the old
man. When I entreated you, my dear George, to be prudent, I
only meant to caution you against throwing your money away on
trifling gratifications, but I did not wish to narrow your heart or
desire you to avoid relieving the present necessities of your fellowcreatures, in order to ward off any future ill which might happen to
self It would give me great pleasure to hear there was any
chance of your getting some employment. In the meantime give
way to hope, do your duty and leave the rest to Heaven, forfeit
not that sure support in the time of trouble, and though your want




i74


W'IILIAM GODWIN.


of experience and judgment may betray you into many errors, let
not your heart be corrupted by bad example, and then, though it
may be wounded by neglect, and torn by anguish, you will not
feel that most acute of all sorrows, a sense of having deserved the
miseries that you undergo.
" Palmer has been respited, and of course will be pardoned. I
have made many inquiries concerning the affair that alarmed us
so much, and find that Palmer's servant has sworn a child to you,
and that it was on that account those men came to our house.
The girl was waiting at a little ale-house near us, so that if you had
stayed, you would have been involved in a pretty piece of business
that your innocence could not have extricated you out of. I
suppose the child is P.'s, or many fathers may dispute the honour.
Let that be as it will, the recent affair of Mary Ann would have
given this some colour of truth. How troublesome fools are!
Mrs Campbell-who has all the constancy that attends on folly,
and in whose mind, when any prejudice is fixed, it remains for
ever-has long disliked you, and this confined ill-humour has at
last broken out, and she has sufficiently railed at your vices, and
the encouragement I have given them... I have been very
ill, and gone through the usual physical operations, have been bled
and blistered, yet still am not well; my harassed mind will in time
wear out my body. I have been so hunted down by cares, and see
so many that I must encounter, that my spirits are quite depressed.
I have lost all relish for life, and my almost broken heart is only
cheered by the prospect of death. I may be years a-dying tho',
and so I ought to be patient, for at this time to wish myself away
would be selfish. Your father and mother are well, and desire
their love; the former has received a letter from Fanny, but her
letters to your father are seldom satisfactory to me. I am trying
to get your father a place, but my hopes are very faint. I forgot
to tell you that Palmer's servant says she followed you one day in
town and raised a mob, but that you ran away. God bless you,
and believe me sincerely and affectionately your friend. I feel
that I love you more than I ever supposed that I did. Adieu to
the village delights. I almost hate the Green, for it seems the




DESPONDENCY.                 '75


175


grave of all my comforts. Shall I never again see your honest
heart dancing in your eyes?"
Palmer, whose name is mentioned in the foregoing letter,
was an attorney, whose clerk, it would seem, George Blood
had been. He was induced to forge documents for a client
of his, one Mrs Jones, with the intent to represent her as a
clergyman's widow, and her son, therefore, a fit recipient
for a charity for clergy orphans. For this he was tried and
sentenced to death, but was, as the letters show, afterwards
respited.
Thie Same to the Saine.
"NEWINGTON GREEN, 7UI0 20th, [1785].
"I am not a fair weather friend; on the contrary, I
think I love most people best when they are in adversity, for pity
is one of my prevailing passions. I am not fond of possessions,
yet, once for all, let me assure you that I have a mother's tenderness for you, and that my heart dances when I make any new discovery of goodness in you. 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. I feel myself particularly attached to those who
are heirs of the promises, and travel on in the thorny path with
the same Christian hopes that render my severe trials a cause of
thankfulness when I can think.... I often see your father and
mother; they desire to be remembered to you in the kindest
manner, and entirely acquit you of the crime that is laid to your
charge, as do the girls.... I have no creature to be unreserved
to. Eliza and Everina: are so different that I could as soon fly as
open my heart to them. How my social comforts have dropped
away-Fanny first, and then you went over the hills and far away.
I am resigned to my fate, but 'tis that gloomy kind of resignation
that is akin to despair.... Your affhctionate friend, MARY."




176


WILLIAMI GODWIN.


The Same to the Same.
" NEWINGTON GREEN, 7uly 25/i [1I785].
My dear George,-I have received the long expected packet....The account Fanny gives of her health is far from pleasing
me, though I imagine that her complaints arise from a new cause
that you can easily guess.... She has received several of our
letters, and read in the papers -an.account of Palmer, which made
her very uneasy lest your name should be mentioned, which would
have been an effectual bar to your settling in Lisbon.... Skeyshas received congratulatory letters from most of his friends and
relations in Ireland, and he now regrets that he did not marry
sooner. All his mighty fears had no foundation, so that if he had
had courage to have braved the world's dread laugh, and ventured
to have acted for himself, he might have -spared Fanny many
griefs, the scars of which will never be obliterated. Nay more, if
she had gone a year or two ago, her health' might have been perfectly restored, which I do not now think will ever be the case.
Before true passion, I am convinced, everything but a sense of
duty moves; true love is warmest when the object is absent. How
Hugh could let Fanny languish in England, while he was throwing money away at Lisbon, is to me inexplicable, if he had a
passion that did not require the fuel of seeing the object. I much
fear he loves her not for the qualities that render her dear to my
heart. Her tenderness and delicacy are not even conceived by a
man who would be satisfied with the fondness of one of the general
run of women....-Your affectionate friend,    MARY."
The Same to the Same.
"NEWINGTON GRREN, Sejt. 4th [1I785].
c By this time, my dear George, I suppose you have received
Fanny's letter, informing you that your fortune has at last taken a
turn. I only heard of it yesterday, and I most sincerely rejoice,
as I earnestly wish to hear of your arrival at Lisbon, on Fanny's
account as well as your own. I hope to see you before the year




DEATH OF MRS SKEYS.                   177
is out, as I am determined to be with her on a certain occasion if
I can possibly contrive it.... Palmer has hatched up some story
to my discredit, in order to be revenged on me for opening Mrs
D.'s eyes to his villanies. He is still in prison. I believe I forgot
to tell you that the girl laid the child to him when she could get
no one else to father it....-Your ever affectionate friend.
" MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT."
Fanny Skeys wrote from Lisbon entreating her friend
to be with her during her confinement, and Mary
Wollstonecraft, then, as always, utterly unselfish, complied, leaving her scholars and house in Mrs Bishop's
charge.   She arrived only to nurse her friend in what
proved the last hours of her life, and returned almost
heart-broken, for her friendship for Fanny Blood was even
more than a sister's love, to find matters at Newington worse
than-before. All chance of future success was at an end,
and the school was given up.
Mary Wollstonecraft to Mrs Bishop.
[LISBON, Nov. or Dec. 1785.]
"My dear Girls,-I am beginning to awake out of a terrifying
dream, for in that light do the transactions of these two or three last
days appear. Before I say more, let me tell you that, when I arrived
here, Fanny was in labour, and that four hours after she was
delivered of a boy. -The child is alive and well, and considering
the very very low state to which Fanny was reduced, she is better
than could be expected. I am now watching her and the child.
My active spirits have not been much at rest ever since I left
England. I could not write to you on shipboard; the sea was so
rough, and we had such hard gales of wind, the captain was afraid
we should be dismasted. I cannot write to-night, or collect my
scattered thoughts, my mind is so unsettled.. Fanny is so worn
out, her recovery would be almost a resurrection, and my reason


I.


M




178


WILLIAM GOD WIN.


will scarce allow me to think it possible. 1 labour to be resigned,
and by the time I am a little so, some faint hope sets my thoughts
again afloat, and for a moment I look forward to days that will,
alas! I fear, never come.
"I will try to-morrow to give you some little regular account of
my journey, though I am almost afraid to look beyond the present
moment. Was not my arrival providential? I can scarce be
persuaded that I am here, and that so many things have happened in so short a time. My head grows light with thinking
on it.
" Friday morning.-Fanny has been so alarmingly ill since I
wrote the above, I entirely gave her up, and yet I could not write
and tell you so: it seemed like signing her death warrant. Yesterday afternoon some of the most alarming symptoms a little abated,
and she had a comfortable night; yet I rejoice with trembling
lips, and am afraid to indulge hopes: she is very low. The stomach is so weak it will scarce bear to receive the slightest nourishment; in short, if I were to tell you all her complaints, you would
not wonder at my fears. The child, though a puny one, is well.
I have got a wet-nurse for it. The packet does not sail till the
latter end of next week, and I send this by a ship. I shall write
by every opportunity. We arrived last Monday. We were only
thirteen days at sea. The wind was so high, and the sea so
boisterous, the water came in at the cabin windows, and the ship
rolled about in such a manner, it was dangerous to stir. The
women were sea-sick the whole time, and the poor invalid so oppressed by his complaints, I never expected he would live to see
Lisbon. I have supported him for hours together, gasping for
breath, and at night, if I had been inclined to sleep, his dreadful
cough would have kept me awake. You may suppose that I have
not rested much since I came here, yet I am tolerably well, and
calmer than I could expect to be. 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. May He bless you both.-Yours,
" MARY."




FIRST ESSA Y IN LITERATURE.


I79


Before the date of the next letter, poor Fanny was in her
grave, Mary Wollstonecraft had returned, as also had
George Blood, who had thrown up his situation, without a
word to any one but his correspondent. It is probable
that, after his gentle sister's death, he did not get on so well
with his brother-in-law, on whom he was in great measure
dependent. Shortly after Mary's return, she made her first
essay in literature, publishing a small, and in no way
remarkable pamphlet called "Thoughts on the Education
of Daughters," for the copyright of which Mr Johnson, the
Bookseller in Fleet Street, gave her ten guineas. This
sum she applied to enable Mr and Mrs Blood to carry out
their desire of going to Ireland and settling in Dublin.
Mary Wollstonecraft to George Blood.
"NEWINGTON GREEN, Feby. 42?, [1786].
"I write to you, my dear George, lest my silence should make
you uneasy, yet what have I to say that will not have the same
effect? Things do not go well with me, and my spirits seem for
ever flown. I was a month on my passage, and the weather was
so tempestuous, we were several times in imminent danger. I did
not expect ever to have reached land. If it had pleased Heaven
to have called me hence, what a world of care I should have
missed.  I have lost all relish for pleasure, and life seems a
burden almost too heavy to be endured. My head is stupid, and
my heart sick and exhausted. But why should I worry you? and
yet, if I do not tell you my vexations, what can I write about?
"Your father and mother are tolerably well, and enquire most
affectionately concerning you. They do not suspect that you
have left Lisbon, and I do not intend informing them of it till
you are provided for. I am very unhappy on their account, for
though I am determined they shall share my last shilling, yet I
have every reason to apprehend extreme distress, and of course
they must be involved in it. The school dwindles to nothing,




I8o


7WILLIAM GODWIN.


and we shall soon lose our last boarder, Mrs Disney. She and
the girls quarrelled while I was away, which contributed to make
the house very disagreeable. Her sons are to be whole boarders
at Mrs Cockburn's. Let me turn my eyes on which side I will, I
can only anticipate misery. Are such prospects as these likely to
heal an almost broken heart? The loss of Fanny was sufficient of
itself to have thrown a cloud over my brightest days: what effect
then must it have, when I am bereft of every other comfort? I
have too many debts. I cannot think of remaining any longer in this
house, the rent is so enormous, and where to go, without money
or friends, who can point out? My eyes are very bad and my
memory gone. I am not fit for any situation, and as for Eliza, I
don't know what will become of her. My constitution is impaired,
I hope I shan't live long, yet I may be a tedious time dying.
"Well, I am too impatient. The will of Heaven be done! I
will labour to be resigned. 'The spirit is willing, but the flesh is
weak.' I scarce know what I write, yet my writing at all when
my mind is so disturbed is a proof to you that I can never be lost
so entirely in misery as to forget those I love. I long to hear that
you are settled. It is the only quarter from which I can reasonably expect any pleasure. I have received a very short, unsatisfactory letter from Lisbon. It was written to apologize for not
sending the money to your father which he promised. It would
have been particularly acceptable to them at this time, but he is
prudent, and will not run any hazard to serve a friend. Indeed,
delicacy made me conceal from him my dismal situation, but he
must know how much I am embarrassed..
"I am very low-spirited, and of course my letter is very dull.
I will not lengthen it out in the same strain, but conclude with
what alone will be acceptable, an assurance of love and regard.
"Believe me to be ever your sincere and affectionate friend,
MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT."
It was soon quite clear that the school must be altogether abandoned, or rather it abandoned the teachers, and
all three sisters determined to seek their livelihood as




SITUATION AS GOVERNESS.


i8I


governesses. Everina's home with her brother was comfortless, and the shelter grudgingly given; they could none of
them find a home with their father and step-mother.
Mr Wollstonecraft had again retired on very small means
to Laugharne in Pembrokeshire, with his wife and younger
children James and Charles. James soon afterwards went to
sea, and Charles, after suffering great privations at home,
emigrated, with, as will be seen, indifferent success. At
Laugharne Mr Wollstonecraft led an obscure, besotted life,
which could bring nothing but misery on his children,
and the constant harassing thought of his daughters
was how they could best help him, and wring from their
brother Edward the support he had promised to give.
Mrs Bishop and Everina obtained and abandoned many
situations, the changes of which are not important, nor
need any of them interest us except one which Mrs Bishop
held in Pembrokeshire, from which were dated letters
worthy to be quoted hereafter.
Mary Wollstonecraft obtained a situation as governess in
the family of Lord Kingsborough in Ireland, through some
friends of one of her chief patrons at Newington, and sailed
for Ireland with these friends, Mr and Mrs Prior, who were
crossing to Dublin, in the autumn of 1787. Mr Prior, at
this time Assistant Master at Eton, was a grandson of a
former college porter, had obtained a King's Scholarship
first at Eton and afterwards became Fellow of King's College, Cambridge. He built the red house opposite the west
doorway of the chapel at Eton.  One of his daughters
became the wife of Dr Goodall, Provost of the College.
Mary's life in Ireland will be sufficiently detailed in the
letters she wrote thence, and little need be said beyond what




182


WILLIAM GODWIN.


she tells us. The "dear Margaret," to whom she was so
sincerely attached, became afterwards Lady Mountcashel,
was her close friend through life and Godwin's correspondent in after years. It is necessary however to draw
particular attention to Mary Wollstonecraft's own religious
views at this time, and to point out the tone of earnest
orthodox piety which pervades them, and the high morality
which also is their characteristic.  For one of the chief
slanders brought against the governess in long after days,
was that she had corrupted the minds of her pupils, teaching them lax morality and false religion. On the contrary,
her whole endeavour was to train them for higher pursuits,
and to instill into them a desire for wider culture than fell
to the lot of most girls in those days.  Her sorrow was
deep that her pupils' lives were such as to render sustained
study and religious habits of mind alike difficult. The tone
of Society in Ireland at that date, even in the highest
families, would now scarcely be credited. Most of the
women with whom Mary Wollstonecraft came in contact
were frivolous, and most of the men were coarse. It is not
wonderful that her spirits and health flagged, and that in
spite of the affection of the one child to whom she was
attracted she saw almost everything round her in gloomy
colours.
The letters will now speak for themselves, or rather
extracts from them, the lines omitted referring to
domestic details devoid of interest.
Mary Wollstonecraft to George Blood.
"NEWINGTON GREEN, May 22d [I787].
"By this time, my dear George, I hope your father and mother
have reached Dublin. I long to hear of their safe arrival. A few
days after they set sail, I received a letter from Skeys. He laments




IETTERS TO GEORGE BLOOD.


183


his inability to assist them, and dwells on his own embarrassments.
How glad I am they are gone." [It will be remembered that their
voyage to Dublin, where Mr Blood hoped to obtain a situation,
was brought about wholly through Mary's exertions, and in great
measure by her money, ill able as she was to afford such assistance.] " My affairs are hastening to a crisis.... Some of my
creditors cannot afford to wait for their money; as to leaving
England in debt, I am determined not to do it... Everina and
Eliza are both endeavouring to go out into the world, the one as
a companion, and the other as a teacher, and I believe I shall
continue some time on the Green. I intend taking a little cheap
lodging, and living without a servant, and the few scholars I have
will maintain me. I have done with all worldly pursuits and
wishes; I only desire to submit without being dependent on the
caprice of our fellow creatures. I shall have many solitary hours,
but I have not much to hope for in life, and so it would be absurd
to give way to fear. Besides, I try to look on the best side, and
not to despond. While I am trying to do my duty in that station
in which Providence has placed me, I shall enjoy some tranquil
moments, and the pleasures I have the greatest relish for are not
entirely out of my reach.  I have been trying to muster up my
fortitude, and labouring for patience to bear my many trials.
Surely when I could determine to survive Fanny, I can endure
poverty and all the lesser ills of life. I dreaded, oh! how I
dreaded this time, and now it is arrived I am calmer than- I
expected to be. I have been very unwell; my constitution is
much impaired; the prison walls are decaying, and the prisoner
will ere long get free....-Remember that I am your truly
affectionate friend and sister,
"MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT."
The Same to the Same.
"NEWINGTON GREEN, Yuly 6tk [1787].
Lady Kingsborough has written about me to Mrs Prior,
and I wait for further particulars before I give my final answer.
Forty pounds a year was the terms mentioned to me, and half of




184


WILLIAM GOD WIN.


that sum I could spare to discharge my debts, and afterwards to
assist Eliza.... I by no means like the proposal of being a
governess. I should be shut out from society and be debarred
the pleasures of imperfect friendship, as I should on every side be
surrounded by unequals. To live only on terms of civility and
common benevolence without any interchange of little acts of
kindness and tenderness would be to me extremely irksome, but
I touch on too tender a string. I said just now friendship, even
friendship, the medicine, the cordial of life, was imperfect, and so
is everything in a world which is meant to educate us for a better.
Here we have no resting-place, nor any stable comfort, but what
arises from our resignation to the will of Heaven, and our firm
reliance on those precious promises delivered to us by Him who
brought light and immortality into the world. He has told us not
only that we may inherit eternal life, but that we shall be changed,
if we do not perversely reject the offered grace. Your letters, my
dear boy, afford me great pleasure....-Yours,
MARY."
l/ary Wollstonecraft to Everina Wollstonecraft.
"ETON, Ocr. 9th, Sunday, I787.
[After saying that Mr and Mrs Prior do not leave for Ireland
quite as soon as they had intended, she continues.] "The time I
spend here appears lost. While I remained in England I would
fain have been near those I love.... I could not live the life they
lead at Eton; nothing but dress and ridicule going forward, and I
really believe their fondness for ridicule tends to make them
affected, the women in their manners and the men in their conversation, for witlings abound and puns fly about like crackers,
though you would scarcely guess they had any meaning in them,
if you did not hear the noise they create. So much company
without any sociability would be to me an insupportable fatigue.
I am, 'tis true, quite alone in a crowd, yet cannot help reflecting
on the scene around me, and my thoughts harass me. Vanity in
one shape or other reigns triumphant.... My thoughts and
wishes tend to that land where the God of love will wipe away all




LIFE IN IRELAND.


- 85


tears from our eyes, where sincerity and truth will flourish, and the
imagination will not dwell on pleasing illusions, which vanish like
dreams, when experience forces us to see things as they really are.
With what delight do I anticipate the time when neither death nor
accidents of any kind will interpose to separate me from those I
love....-Adieu; believe me to be your affectionate friend and
sister,                         MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT."
The Same to the Same.
"THE CASTLE, MITCHELSTOWN, Oct. 30, 1787.
"Well, my dear Girl, I am at length arrived at my journey's
end. I sigh when I say so, but it matters not. I must labour for
content, and try to reconcile myself to a state which is contrary to
every feeling of my soul. I can scarcely persuade myself that I
am awake; my whole life appears like a frightful vision, and
equally disjointed. I have been so very low spirited for some
days past, I could not write. All the moments I could spend in
solitude were lost in sorrow and unavailing tears. There was such
a solemn kind of stupidity about this place as froze my very blood.
I entered the great gates with the same kind of feeling as I should
have if I was going into the Bastille. You can make allowance
for the feelings which the General would term  ridiculous or
artificial. I found I was to encounter a host of females-My
Lady, her stepmother, and three sisters, and Mrses. and Misses
without number, who of course would examine me with the most
minute attention. I cannot attempt to give you a description of
the family, I am so low; I will only mention some of the things
which particularly worry me. I am sure much more is expected
from me than I am equal to. With respect to French, I am
certain Mr P. has misled them, and I expect, in consequence of
it, to be very much mortified. Lady K. is a shrewd, clever woman,
a great talker. I have not seen much of her, as she is confined
to her room by a sore throat; but I have seen half a dozen of
her companions, I mean not her children, but her dogs. To see
a woman without any softness in her manners caressing animals,
and using infantine expressions is, you may conceive, very absurd




186


WILLIAM GOD WIN.


and ludicrous, but a fine lady is a new species to me of animals.
I am, however, treated like a gentlewoman by every part of the
family, but the forms and parade of high life suit not my mind... I hear a fiddle below, the servants are dancing,,and the rest
of the family are diverting themselves, I only am melancholy and
alone. To tell the truth, I hope part of my misery arises from
disordered nerves, for I would fain believe my mind is not so very
weak. The children are, literally speaking, wild Irish, unformed
and not very pleasing; but you shall have a full and true account,
my dear girl, in a few days....-I am your affectionate sister
and sincere friend,           "MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT."
The Same to Mrs Bishop.
"MITCHELSTOWN, Nov. 5th [1787].
"...   Now to introduce the castle to you, and all its inhabitants, a numerous tribe, I assure you. The castle is very pleasantly
situated, and commands the kind of prospect I most admire. Near
he house, literally speaking, is a cloud-capped hill, and altogether
he country is pleasant, and would please me when anything of the
kind could rouse my attention. But my spirits have been in continual agitation, and when they will be at rest, heaven only knows.
I fear I am not equal to the task I have been persuaded to undertake, and this fear worries me.
"Lady K. is a clever woman, and a well-meaning one, but not
of the order of being that I could love. With his Lordship I have
had little conversation, but his countenance does not promise more
than good humour, and a little fiun not refined. Another face in
the house appears to me more interesting, a pale one, no other
than the author of 'Shepherds I have lost my love.' His wife is
with him-a gentle pleasing creature, and her sister, a beauty and
a sensible woman into the bargain. Besides them and several
visitors, we have resident here Lady K.'s stepmother, and her
three daughters, fine girls, just going to market, as their brother
says. I have committed to my care three girls, the eldest fourteen, by no means handsome, yet a sweet girl. She has a wonderful




LIFE IN IRELAAND.


187


capacity, but she has such a multiplicity of employments it has
not room to expand itself, and in all probability will be lost in a
heap of rubbish, miscalled accomplishments. I am grieved at
being obliged to continue so wrong a system. She is very much
afraid of her mother,-that such a creature should be ruled with a
rod of iron, when tenderness would lead her anywhere! She is to
be always with me. I have just promised to send her love to my
sister, so pray receive it. Lady K. is very civil, nay, kind, yet I
cannot help fearing her.... You have a sneaking kindness, you
say, for people of quality, and I almost forgot to tell you I was in
company with a Lord Fingal in the packet. Shall I try to remember the titles of all the lords and viscounts I am in company
with, not forgetting the clever things they say? I would sooner
tell you a tale of some humbler creatures; I intend visiting the
poor cabins; as Miss K. is allowed to assist the poor, and I shall
make a point of finding them out.
"Adieu, my dear girl,
"Yours affectionately,
" MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT."
Mary Wollstonecraft to Everina Wollstonecraft.
"MITCHELSTOWN, NOV. 17, [1787].... "Confined to the society of a set of silly females, I have
no social converse, and their boisterous spirits and unmeaning
laughter exhaust me, not forgetting hourly domestic bickerings.
The topics of matrimony and dress take their turn, not in a very
sentimental style-alas, poor sentiment! it has no residence here.
I almost wish the girls were novel readers and romantic; I declare
false refinement is better than none at all, but these girls understand several languages, and have read cartloads of history, for
their mother was a prudent woman. Lady K.'s passion for animals
fills up the hours which are not spent in dressing. All her children have been ill-very disagreeable fevers. Her ladyship visitedi
them in a formal way, though their situation called forth my tenderness, and I endeavoured to amuse them, while she lavished




i88


WILLIAM GOD WIN


awkward fondness on her dogs. I think now I hear her infantine
lisp. She rouges-and in short is a fine lady, without fancy or
sensibility. I am almost tormented to death by dogs. But you
will perceive I am not under the influence of my darling passionpity; it is not always so, I make allowance and adapt myself,
talk of getting husbands for the Ladies-and the dogs, and am
wonderfully entertaining; and then I retire to my room, form
figures in the fire, listen to the wind, or view the Gotties, a fine
range of mountains near us, and so does time waste away in
apathy or misery...  I am drinking asses' milk, but do not find
it of any service. I am very ill, and so low-spirited my tears flow
in torrents almost insensibly. I struggle with myself, but I hope
my Heavenly Father will not be extreme to mark my weakness,
and that He will have compassion on a poor bruised reed, and
pity a miserable wretch, whose sorrows He only knows..... I
almost wish my warfare was over."... [The rest is lost.]
The letters after this date show some improvement, both
in health and spirits, though she was much troubled about
family matters, which it is not very easy to understand in
full from the allusions in the letters. It would appear,
however, that Edward Wollstonecraft, the elder brother,
not only refused to contribute anything to the support of
his father, which fell almost wholly on Mary, but declined
to afford a home any longer to Everina, who had been with
him for some time. He also retained in his hands a sum
of money, apparently a legacy, which the sisters conceived
should have been divided between them all. He seems to
have been selfish and extravagant, though doing a fair
business as an attorney. The letters which passed between the sisters are either of no special interest or harp
on the same string as those already quoted. In the winter
of 1787 the Kingsborough family went to Dublin, and the
letters thence again afford suitable extracts.




A DUBLIN MASQUERADE.


Mary Wollstonecraft to Everina Wollstonecraft.
"DUBLIN, March 24th, 1788.
"...I believe I told you before that as a nation I do not
admire the Irish, and as to the great world and its frivolous
ceremonies I cannot away with them.  They fatigue one; I
thank Heaven that I was not so unfortunate as to be born a lady
of quality. I am now reading Rousseau's 'Emile,' and love his
paradoxes. He chooses a common capacity to educate, and gives
as a reason that a genius will educate itself. However he rambles
into that chimerical world in which I have too often wandered,
and draws the usual conclusion that all is vanity and vexation of
spirit. He was a strange, inconsistent, unhappy, clever creature,
yet he possessed an uncommon portion of sensibility and penetration.... Adieu, yours sincerely,
"MARY."
The Same to [the Same or Mrs Bishop].
"DUBLIN, Mfarch 14th, I788.
"...I am very weak to-day, but I can account for it. The
day before yesterday there was a masquerade; in the course of
conversation some time before, I happened to wish to go to it.
Lady K. offered me two tickets for myself and Miss Delane to
accompany me. I refused them on account of the expense of
dressing properly. She then to obviate that objection lent me a
black domino.  I was out of spirits, and thought of another
excuse; but she proposed to take me and Betty Delane to the
houses of several people of fashion who saw masques. We went
to a great number, and were a tolerable, nay, a much admired
group. Lady K. went in a domino with a smart cockade; Miss
Moore dressed in the habit of one of the females of the new
discovered islands; Betty D. as a forsaken shepherdess, and your
sister Mary in a black domino. As it was taken for granted the
stranger who had just arrived could not speak the language, I was
to be her interpreter, which afforded me an ample field for satire.
I happened to be very melancholy in the morning, as I am almost.
/




I9go


WVILLIAM GOD WIN.


every morning, but at night my fever gives me false spirits: this
night the lights, the novelty of the scene, and all things together
contributed to make me more than half mad. I gave full scope to
a satirical vein and suppose... "[The rest is lost].
From Dublin Lord and Lady Kingsborough and their
family went to Bristol, Hotwells, and Bath, and from these
places again the letters complain bitterly of the tone of
society in which Mary found herself. She speaks of the
"dissipated lives led by the women of quality," and finds
that "in many respects the great and little vulgar resemble
each other, and in none more than in the motives which
induce them to marry." Her health was better away from
Ireland, yet the employment continued to be thoroughly
uncongenial to her nature, while she had nothing in
common with her employers. It is, therefore, not wonderful that in the autumn of this year Lady Kingsborough dismissed her governess.  In addition to the long standing want of cordiality Lady Kingsborough had a new
grievance because the love which her children were unable to give to her was bestowed on a stranger. In one
of her letters Mary Wollstonecraft speaks of one of the
younger children having cried herself sick because she was
to go into the country with her mother alone, and Margaret
above all the others showed the great affection she felt for
one who in return was devoted to her. During the year
spent with Lady Kingsborough, Mary wrote a tale called
by her own name "Mary," and devoted in a measure to
the record of her own deep friendship with Fanny Blood.
Mr Johnson, the Publisher, had been struck with the
promise Mary Wollstonecraft had shown before she. went
to Ireland. By his strong advice she had greatly improved




RETURN TO LONDON.


I9I


her knowledge of French, and he now proposed to her that
she should settle in lodgings not far from  his house of
business, and promised her constant literary work, chiefly
to consist in translating from the French. This offer she
at once accepted, and Lady Kingsborough having parted
with her in London, whither the family had come for the
winter, the dismissal and the new life were communicated
to her sister in one and the same letter.
Mary Wollstonecraft to Everina Wollstonecraft.
" LONDON, Nov. 71h, 1788.... I am, my dear girl, once more thrown on the world; I
have left Lord K.'s, and they return next week to Mitchelstown.
I long since imagined that my departure would be sudden." [From
another letter. " The regret Margaret showed, when I left her for
a short time, was Lady K.'s pretext for parting with me. They
had frequent quarrels, and the consequence was this determination."] "I have not seen Mrs Burgh, but I have informed her of this
circumstance, and at the same time mentioned to her, that I was
determined not to see any of my friends till I am in a way to earn
my own subsistence. And to this determination I will adhere.
You can conceive how disagreeable pity and advice would be at
this juncture. I have two other cogent reasons. Before I go on
will you pause, and if, after deliberating, you will promise not to
mention to any one what you know of my designs, though you
may think my requesting you to conceal them unreasonable, I will
trust to your honour, and proceed. Mr Johnson, whose uncommon kindness, I believe, has saved me from despair and vexation,
1 shrink back from, and feared to encounter, assures me that if I
exert my talents in writing I may support myself in a comfortable
way. I am then going to be the first of a new genus; I tremble
at the attempt, yet if I fail I only suffer, and should I succeed my
dear girls will ever in sickness have a home, and a refuge, where
for a few months in the year they may forget the cares that disturb




192


WILLIAM GOD WIAN


the rest. I shall strain every nerve to obtain a situation for Eliza
nearer town: in short, I am once more involved in schemes,
heaven only knows whether they will answer! yet while they are
pursued life slips away. I would not on any account inform my
father or Edward of my designs-you and Eliza are the only part
of the family I am interested about, I wish to be a mother to you
both. My undertaking would subject me to ridicule, and an
inundation of friendly advice to which I cannot listen; I must be
independent. I wish to introduce you to Mr Johnson, you would
respect him, and his sensible conversation would soon wear away
the impression that a formality, or rather stiffness of manners, first
makes to his disadvantage. I am sure you will love him, did
you know with what tenderness and humanity he has behaved to
me.
"I cannot write more explicitly. I have indeed been very much
harassed. But Providence has been very kind to me, and when I
reflect on past mercies, I am not without hope with respect to the
future. And freedom, even uncertain freedom, is dear.... This
project has long floated in my mind. You know I am not born
to tread in the beaten track, the peculiar bent of my nature pushes
me on.-Adieu, believe me ever your sincere friend and affectionate sister,                     MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT."
"Seas will not now divide us, nor years elapse before we see
each other."
The Samte to the Same.
[No date, but a few days later.]... [Mr Johnson] "has now settled me in a little house in a street
near Blackfriars Bridge, and he assures me I may earn a comfortable maintenance if I exert myself. I have given him 'Mary,'
and before your vacation I shall finish another book for young
people, which I think has some merit.... Whenever I am tired
of solitude I go to Mr Johnson's, and there I meet the kind of
company I find most pleasure in....  I spent a day at Mrs.
Trimmer's, and found her a truly respectable woman. I intend to
try to get Bess a situation near me, and hope to succeed before the




ORIGINAL STORIES.


I93


summer vacation; at any rate, she shall spend the approaching
one in my house. Mr J. knows that, next to obtaining the means
of life, I wish to mitigate her and your fate. I have done with
the delusions of fancy, I only live to be useful; benevolence must
fill every void in my heart. I have a room but not furniture. J.
offered you both a bed in his house but that would not be pleasant.
I believe I must try to purchase a bed, which I shall reserve for
my poor girls while I have a house. If you pay any visits, you
will comply with my whim, and not mention my place of abode or
mode of life. I shall have a spur to push me forward, the desire
of rendering two months in the year a little pleasanter than they
would otherwise be to you and poor uncomfortable Bess...."
The "other book for young people" is called " Original
Stories from Real Life," and is intended to lead the minds
of children to truth and goodness. It is beautifully written,
though in a style now obsolete, and for which children in
these days would not care, but it ought not to be quite
unknown, since it was illustrated  by some of Blake's
most striking and beautiful woodcuts. The frontispiece, a
simple composition of three figures standing in a doorway,
up either side of which climbs a creeper; and another, in
strong contrast, of a father standing over a bed on which
lie his two children, who have died of want, can never be
forgotten by those who have seen them.
A MS. note in Mr Johnson's writing gives an account of
her work and life at this time:
"She entered upon her house in George St. at Michaelmas
1787, and continued there till Michaelmas 179I.
"Here she wrote the ' Rights of Woman.' A translation from
the Dutch of 'Young Grandison' was put into her hands, which
she almost re-wrote.  She translated 'Necker on Religious
Opinions,' compiled the 'French Reader,' introducing some
original pieces, and prefixed a preface to it. She began a novel
under the title of the ' Cave of Fancy,' wrote many articles in the


I.


N




194


WILLIAM GODWIN.


'Analytical Review,'-'Answer to Burke,' 'Elements of Morality
from the German,' which she first studied here, and a translation
of 'Lavater's Physiognomy' from the French.
" Her brothers and sisters were occasionally with her when they
were unsettled. Her's was their home; and she took every
method to improve and prepare them for respectable situations.
She consulted with Mr Barlow on the probability of getting a farm
in America for Charles, which was determined upon, and he was
placed with a farmer here for instruction. He left England the
latter end of i792. James, who had been at sea, was sent to
Woolwich for a few months to be under Mr Bonnycastle, and
afterwards on board Lord Hood's fleet as a midshipman, where he
was presently made a lieutenant. Much of the instruction which
all of them obtained was obtained under her own roof, and most,
if not all the situations which her sisters had were procured by her
exertions. In the beginning of 1788 she sent Everina to Paris for
improvement in the language.
" During her stay in George Street she spent many of her afternoons and most of her evenings with me. She was incapable of
disguise. Whatever was the state of her mind, it appeared when
she entered, and the tone of conversation might easily be guessed.
When harassed, which was very often the case, she was relieved by
unbosoming herself, and generally returned home calm, frequently
in spirits.
" In a part of this period, which certainly was the most active of
her life, she had the care of her father's estate, which was attended
with no little trouble to both of us. She could not during this
time, I think, expend less than / 200 on her brothers and sisters.
"At Michaelmas 179 she went to Store Street, and continued
till Decr. 1792. She then went to Paris."
The correspondence with her family grew far more infrequent after the date of the last letter. Nor is there much
which needs extraction. The sisters were for some time at
Putney, when intercourse was more easy. Mary Wollstonecraft was very hard at work, and her sisters had little sym



LETTER TO GEORGE BLOOD.


195


pathy with the direction in which her thoughts were now
turning. It is not-quite so clear why the correspondence
with George Blood grew slack-indeed, who can tell why
their own correspondence with one and another friend
waxes and wanes?-but from the tone of the few that
remain, the intimacy was less cordial than in former years.
The little coolness, from whatever cause, passed away, and
George Blood, now in a good position, seems to have
written to Mary Wollstonecraft to ask if there were any
hope that Everina would become his wife. The following
extract shows the ill-success of his wooing:JIary WVollstonecraft to George Blood.
" LONDON, Feb. 4th, '91... "Now, my dear George, let me more particularly allude
to your own affairs. I ought to have done so sooner, but there
was an awkwardness in the business that made me shrink back.
We have all, my good friend, a sisterly affection for you; and this
very morning Everina declared to me that she had more affection
for you than for either of her brothers; but accustomed to view
you in that light, she cannot view you in any other. Let us then
be on the old footing, love us as we love you, but give your heart
to some worthy girl, and do not cherish an affection which may
interfere with your prospects when there is no reason to suppose
that it will ever be returned. Everina does not seem to think of
marriage, she has no particular attachment, yet she was anxious
when I spoke explicitly to her, to speak to you in the same terms,
that she might correspond with you as she has ever done, with
sisterly freedom and affection....-Your affectionate friend,
" MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT."
It has been mentioned that Mrs Bishop and Everina
Wollstonecraft were wanderers during these years. Mrs
Bishop was teacher in a school at Market Harborough,




196               WJILLIAM GOD WIN.
at Putney, and at Henley; while her sister was at the
same school at Putney, in Ireland, for a short time in
France-now and then resident with her brother Edward,
and then again for a time with Mary. But few letters are
preserved from them during this time, nor have those which
remain any special interest. In 1791 Mrs Bishop obtained
a more permanent engagement in Pembrokeshire, near
Laugharne, the town in which her father, supported by
Mary, was now living. Extracts from the letters from
this place will prove of interest.  They will shew the
wretchedness of the home of these three sisters, and the
utter impossibility that they should ever permanently
return to it in case of ill-health or other misfortune; they
will make it clear that the sisters had to frame for themselves a theory of life; and, with such a training, how little
likely it was this should be the usual one, about the sanctity
of home, and of home relations and ties.  They give a
curious picture of the savagery still existing in far corners
of the land among those who yet required a cultivated
woman as governess, of ignorance and prejudice, and,
towards the end of the series, the view taken by the family
of Mary Wollstonecraft's change of life and opinions.
The situation at Upton Castle had been obtained for
Mrs Bishop by Mr Woods, a Welsh clergyman, and an
old friend of the family.
Mrs Bishop to Everina Wollstonecraft.
"[LAUGHARNE], Tuesday Nightz May [30], 1791.
"MY DEAREST EVERINA,-Here I am at Laugharne, without
being recollected by anybody. Neither Miss Brown nor her
mother have condescended to call on me. Many of the inhabitants have left it, others are dead, or else have quite forgotten
Miss Betsy. Mrs Lame is the only one who wished to recollect




4- WRETCHED FAMIL Y.


197


me, but the old face she, sighing, says is quite gone. In fact, the
town is now full of decayed people of fashion. Not one eye have
I met that glistened with pleasure at meeting me unexpectedly
and I revisit our old walks with a degree of sadness I never felt
before. The cliff-side, the churchyard, &c., &c., are all truly
romantic and beautiful-a thousand times more so than I imagined; yet all creates a sadness I cannot banish.
"The sight of my father's ghastly visage haunts me night and
day;- for he is really worn to a mere skeleton, and has a dreadful
cough that makes my blood run cold whenever I listen to it, and
that is the greater part of the night, or else he groans most dreadfully; yet he declares he has good nights. There cannot be a
more melancholy sight than to see him, not able to walk ten yards
without panting for breath, and continually falling; still he is able
to ride ten miles every day, and eat and drink very hearty. His
neighbours think, as he has had such a wonderful escape, he will
quite recover, though his death-like countenance tells me it is
impossible. I am harassed to the last degree how to advise him
to act; if he gives up his horse now, he is a dead man in a very
short time. When I beg of him to be more careful in money
matters, he declares he will go to "London, and force Ned; or
when I tell him how Mary has been distressed, in order to make
him save in trifles, he is in a passion, and exhausts himself. He is
mad to be in London. - I represented matters as they are, that he
might abridge himself of some unnecessary expenses; but now he
is too weak in mind and body to act with prudence. She is truly
a well-meaning woman, and willing to do the little she can to
lessen the debts.
"Charles is half naked, and is treated by my father in the way
that he deserves, for he is at him perpetually; he never even tried
to get him into the Excise, or anywhere else.  He is actually
altered rather for the better, drinks never anything but water, and
is much thinner, and all submission.... He now talks of listing
for a soldier; if he does, there is an end of him.... I am very
cool to Charles, and have said all I can to rouse him; but where
can he go in his present plight? Thanky, my dear, for your kind




WILLIAM GOD WIN.


letter. I am afraid this will not raise your spirits. Pray tell M.
my father received the note. I have many things to chat over
with you when I get to my Haven. Shall I find peace when I get
to the end of my journey? Good night."
The Same to the Same.
"UPTON, Xune 12, 179I.
"... But were you to see my father's countenance. It is now,
I really think, the most dreadful face I ever beheld! It appears
constantly convulsed by ill-humour, and every unamiable feeling
that can be expressed; his face is quite red, his hair grey and
dirty, his beard long, and the clothes he wears not worth sixpence.
In this plight he arrived at Upton the third night after my arrival,
fearing my portmanteau was lost. I was strolling out with the
girls, and was surprised to meet Mr Rees coming to meet us, and
not less so when he stretched out his friendly hand to shake mine,
saying, 'Who do you think is come to Upton?  Your father!
in his old clothes too, poor man! He thought you had lost your
box.' The good man really thought I should be alarmed at my
father's appearance, and was -anxious to see me first. After keeping me awake the whole night, he went to Laugharne in the morning, displeased, I believe, at not being asked to spend the day.
If you had seen the good old man trying to behave so that I
might think he was pleased with my father. He is in truth a
most amiable man, though not a very sensible one. He has Mrs
Cotton's blush, and none of the tricks of old age. He was tutor
to Tom" [name illegible]. "Molly was in his way, as she was
waiting-maid in the same house, and he married her, from what
motive I will not pretend to say..."
The Same to the Same.
"UPTON, ilne I9, I79I.
"... The only thing here that resembles man is a noble Newfoundland dog, and a fine greyhound. Neptune and his friend
Shark have contrived to find a corner in my heart, contrary to my




UPTON CASTLE.


199


reason. I look on them as Frends; indeed, when with them I
am not quite alone! They render my walks still more delightful.
The situation of this spot is truly picturesque. The way to the
house is through a fine wood, dreadfully neglected, so much so,
that one can hardly find a path in it-surrounded by hills. Close
to the castle is an old chapel, and near it is a cross, shaded by a
yew tree, and many a lofty ash at a distance. The castle joins the
house. In one of its turrets is my room, which is furnished in the
Eastern manner, though half the ornaments must not be used, for
the Captain gave them to Maria, and she must keep them for his
sake. The library no one values, though it is a most excellent
one. The arm-chair, however, and spacious bed, none of them
claim. My room leads into a large drawing-room, which contains
all that might be made useful. It has a door at one end that
opens, and gives a full view of the woods.... There I often sit
when all are fast asleep, as it is quite away from their roosting
places. For though the kitchen was made fit for a nobleman, and
the coach-house, stalls, laundry, &c., &c., are all rendered truly
commodious, the good family here did not like to have their bedrooms altered, no! nor even the common sitting-parlour, which is
a dark hole.... Their room is quite filled with chest upon chest,
which are filled with trumpery sixty years old; and though they
have hardly room to turn themselves, they will not let their boxes
remain in the garret. Here is a strange medley! a farthing candle,,
or one as thick as my wrist. Though they have drawers loaded
with everything, they still make the shifts that necessity compelled
them to in former times.... The girls have dozens of gowns
never worn, which they only look at, and everything else that
might be made useful.... They never have been permitted to
walk, on account of wearing out shoes. I am certain I shall break
the old woman's heart if I take them out a-walking.... Send me
a few wax tapers, for a farthing one often falls to my share, and we
go to bed very early.... Adieu."




CHAPTER VII.


MARY tVOLLSTONECRAFT. I79-II796.
IN her lonely lodging near Blackfriars, Mary Wollstonecraft had been writing an original work during the scant
time she could give to it from her labours of translation.
It was one which has ever been more known by name than
by perusal, on a subject which even now excites acrimony
rather than calm discussion. The very words, "A Vindication of the Rights of Woman," which was the title of the
book, are held, without examination, to claim emancipation
alike from law, from custom, and from morality. Yet it is
evident that the writer, as she has shown herself in her
letters, must have changed far more suddenly than is wont
to be the case, if such were indeed the object she set before
her in writing her treatise.
It is not among the least oddities of this singular work
that it is dedicated to M. Talleyrand Perigord, late Bishop
of Autun.  Mary Wollstonecraft, always confiding and
always charitable, still believed in him. She little knew
how unstable was the liberalism for which she gave him
credit, and though well aware that some of her opinions
were opposed to those which Talleyrand had put forward
in his pamphlet on National Education, she yet thought
him quite sincere and working in the same direction as herself. Mary Wollstonecraft, like so many others, turned to
France as the land from which was rising the day-star of a




NN
II








'THIE RIGHTS OF WOM,1AN.'              201
new time, yet, unlike many, she was far from considering
that all French manners were worthy of imitation. Even
in the Dedication to Talleyrand are some noble words in
defence of English cleanliness in life and talk, even of
seeming prudery, rather than much which is still tolerated
in France.
"The main argument" of the work "is built on this simple
principle, that if woman be not prepared by education to become
the companion of man, she will stop the progress of knowledge, for
truth must be common to all, or it will be inefficacious with respect
to its influence on general practice. And how can woman be
expected to co-operate, unless she know why she ought to be
virtuous?-unless freedom strengthen her reason till she comprehend her duty, and see in what manner it is connected with her
real good. If children are to be educated to understand the true
principle of patriotism, their mother must be a patriot; and the
love of mankind, from which an orderly train of virtues springs, can
only be produced by considering the moral and civil interest of
mankind; but the education and situation of woman at present
shuts her out from such investigations."-P. viii.
In the carrying out of this argument the most noticeable
fact is the extraordinary plainness of speech, and this it
was which caused all or nearly all the outcry. For Mary
Wollstonecraft did not, as has been supposed, attack the
institution of marriage, she did not assail orthodox religion, I
she did not directly claim much which at the present day
is claimed for women by those whose arguments obtain
respectful hearing. The book was really a plea for equality
of education, a protest against being deemed only the plaything of man, an assertion that the intellectual rather than
the sexual intercourse was that which should chiefly be
desired in marriage, and which made its lasting happiness.
In maintaining these theses, in themselves harmless and to




;202


WILLIAM GOD WIN.


us self-evident, she assailed the theories not only of
I Rousseau in "Emile," which would have been easily borne,
but those of Dr Fordyce, whose sermons had long made a
/part of a young woman's library, of Dr Gregory and others
whose words were as a gospel to the average English
nation, when she would teach her daughters less from her
own experience than in sounding periods whose gravity
simulated real authority.  She did but carry out what
Day had sketched in "Sandford and Merton," and Miss
Simmons was a young lady who might have been trained
by Mary Wollstonecraft herself.
It may, however, be admitted that her frankness on some
subjects is little less than astounding, and that matters are
discussed which are rarely named even among members of
the same sex, far less printed for both, while side blows are
administered to much which was then unquestioned, at
least in the society to which a woman's book would gain
admission. The insistance on the reception of the Sacrament in our colleges, the relics of Popery retained ill them,
the weekly services she had noticed the Eton boys unwillingly attend, which was "only a disgusting skeleton of the
former state," in which "all the solemnity that interested
the imagination if it did not purify the heart is stripped
off"-in fact, the whole system which had come before her
in her residence with Mr Prior was rudely criticised. Nor
were other sacred institutions dealt with more gently than
our schools and universities. The fallacy by which virtue
is confounded with reputation was laid bare, and she by no
means shrinks from uncovering the worst sores of society.
Yet for extreme plain speaking, there was much reason
and excuse. The times were coarser than ours, the days
were not so far distant when the scenes were possible and
the dangers real which Richardson's novels pourtray. The




ON ELEMiENTAR 1Y EDUCATION.


203


very book she assails, "Dr Fordyce's Sermons," contains
words spoken from the pulpit to young women which would
now be considered an outrage on the congregation. Mary
Wollstonecraft shrunk from no directness in dealing with
the most dangerous and explosive subjects.
It was not only the plain speaking which alarmed, and
not only that a woman spoke, but every page showed that
she too was affected by the thoughts which claimed rights
for men, and the demand for these had issued in the French
Revolution.
The faults of the book are grave over and above those of
the time; it is ill-considered, hasty, and rash, but its merits
are great also; there is much that is valuable for these
days also-it is fresh, vigorous, and eloquent, and most
remarkable as the herald of the demand not even yet wholly
conceded by all, that woman should be the equal and
friend, not the slave and the toy of man.
One passage only shall here be quoted.  It is one in
which Mary Wollstonecraft gives her views on elementary
education, and in favour of mixed schools.
"Day schools should be established by Government in which
boys and girls might be educated together. The school for the
younger children, from five to nine years of age, ought to be
absolutely free, and open to all classes,... where boys and girls,
the rich and the poor, should meet together. To prevent any of
the distinctions of vanity, they should be dressed alike, and all
obliged to submit to the same discipline, or leave the school. The
school-room ought to be surrounded by a large piece of ground, in
which the children might be usefully exercised, for at this age
they should not be confined to any sedentary employment for more
than an hour at a time.  But these relaxations might all be
rendered a part of elementary education, for many things improve
and amuse the senses when introduced as a kind of show, to the




204


24WILLIAM GOD WIN.


principles of which dryly laid down children would turn a deaf ear.
For instance, botany, mechanics, and astronomy. Reading, writing, arithmetic, natural history, and some simple experiments
in natural philosophy might fill up the day, but these pursuits
should never encroach on gymnastics in the open air.  The
elements of religion, history, the history of man, and politics
might also be taught by conversations in the Socratic form.
"After the age of nine, girls and boys intended for domestic
employments or mechanical trades ought to be removed to other
trades, and receive instruction in some measure appropriated to
the destination of each individual, the two sexes being still together
in the morning, but in the afternoon the girls should attend a
school where plain work, mantua making, millinery, &c., would be
their employment.
" The young people of superior abilities or fortune might now
be taught in another school the dead and living languages, the
elements of science, and continue the study of history and politics,
on a more extensive scale, which would not exclude polite
literature.
"Girls and boys still together? I hear some reader ask. Yes.
And I should not fear any other consequence than that some
early attachment might take place, which, whilst it had the best
effect on the moral character of young people, might not perfectly
agree with the views of the parents, for it will be a long time, I
fear, before the world is so enlightened that parents only anxious
to render their children virtuous will let them choose companions
for life themselves."-A4 Vindication of the Rights of Woman,
pp. 386-389.
That the publication of "The Rights of Woman " should
prove startling and even shocking to the author's sisters as
it did to many other people, is not surprising, but the
exhibition of small spite which is to be found in the following letter is unworthy of one for whom the writer had
made, and was again ready to make, such great sacrifices.




JO URNE Y TO FRANCE.


205


Charles the worthless had been taken to London, wholly
by the kindness of his sister Mary, who, since the issue of
her book, which had made her in some degree a public
character, took the brevet rank of Mrs Wollstonecraft.
Mrs Biszop to Everina Wollstonecraft.
"UPTON CASTLE, 7uly 3d, 1792.
"..  He" [Charles] "informs me too that Mrs Wollstonecraft
is grown quite handsome; he adds likewise that being conscious
she is on the wrong side of thirty she now endeavours to set off
those charms she once despised to the best advantage. This
entre nous, for he is delighted with her kindness and affection
to him.
"So the author of L The Rights of Woman' is going to France!
I dare say her chief motive is to promote poor Bess's comfort, or
thine, my girl, at least I think she will thus reason. Well, in spite
of reason, when Mrs W. reaches the Continent she will be but a
woman! I cannot help painting her in the. height of all her
wishes, at the very summit of happiness, for will not ambition fill
every chink of her Great Soul (for such I really think hers) that is
not occupied by love? After having drawn this sketch, you can
hardly suppose me so sanguine as to expect my pretty face will be
thought of when matters of State are in agitation, yet I know you
think such a miracle not impossible. I wish I could think it at
all probable, but, alas! it has so much the appearance of castlebuilding that I think it will soon disappear like the 'baseless fabric
of a vision, and leave not a wrack behind.'
"And you actually have the vanity to imagine that in the
National Assembly, personages like M. and F[useli] will bestow a
thought on two females whom nature meant to ' suckle fools and
chronicle small beer."'
The scheme of going to France, of which Mrs Bishop
speaks above, had been announced to her sister Everina
shortly before. Everina Wollstonecraft had spent a few




205


WILLIA4M GODWIN.


weeks in France for the sake of perfecting her French
accent; and there was a plan that Mrs Bishop also should
go for the same purpose.
Mary Wollstonecraft to Everina Wollstonecraft.
" LONDON, 7une 20th, '92.
". I have been considering what you say respecting Eliza's
residence in France. For some time past Mr and Mrs Fuseli, Mr
Johnson, and myself have talked of a summer excursion to Paris;
it is now determined on, and we think of going in about six weeks.
I shall be introduced to many people, my book" ["A Vindication
of the Rights of Woman "] " has been translated, and praised in
some popular prints, and Mr Fuseli of course is well known; it is
then very probable that I shall hear of some situation for Eliza,
and I shall be on the watch. We intend to be absent only six
weeks; if then I fix on an eligible situation for her she may avoid
the Welsh winter. This journey will not lead me into any extraordinary expense, or I should put it off to a more convenient
season, for I am not, as you may suppose, very flush of money,
and Charles is wearing out the clothes which were provided for his
voyage " [to America at her expense], " still I am glad he has
acquired a little practical knowledge of farming....
A candid friend who published anonymously in 1803,
"A Defence of the Character and Conduct of the late Mary
Wollstonecraft Godwin," but whose " Defence " is mingled
with a good deal of venom, says that " though we are not
expressly informed," there seems a probability that she
had experienced a disappointment in her earlier years, and
that such disappointment "tended to increase her irritability." The writer goes on to say,
"The first sexual attachment that is plainly avowed was towards
Mr Fuseli.... She had reason to esteem him as a particular
friend, but on finding that her regard for him had gradually
assumed a more interesting form, mark her prudence and resolu



UNFOUNDED SLANDER.


207


tion. No sooner had she analysed her feelings, traced them to
their real source, discovered their tendency, and weighed them in the
balance of moral obligation, than, with a just respect for herself as
well as for the other parties interested, she determined to make a
sacrifice of her private desires upon the altar of Virtue; and in
order to snap the tie that seemed likely to occasion uneasiness
either to herself or her friends, she prudently resolved to retire
into another country, far remote from the object who had unintentionally excited the tender passion in her breast."-(Pp. 58-60.)
The same story, told with much greater circumstance,
appears in Knowles's "Life of Fuseli," and is supposed to
be confirmed by extracts from her letters which are given.
But one of them, the last written after her return from
France, most certainly does not refer to any attachment to
Fuseli; and Mr Knowles is so extremely inaccurate in
regard to all else that he says of her, that his testimony
may be wholly set aside, finding, as it does, no confirmation whatever from her correspondence, and very little from
a few ill-natured remarks of Mrs Bishop, which do not
justify the malignant gossip.
Godwin himself, in his Memoir of his wife speaks also of
her intimacy with Fuseli, saying that had he been unmarried, he would probably have been the man of her
choice. He goes on to declare that the friends were only
friends, but his mention of the matter at all is only one
of those strange instances of his somewhat morbid habit
of dwelling on matters of which it would have been well
to take no notice. It is probable that he had only heard
of the more unfavourable version of the story at secondhand, and, even after careful attention to her husband's
words, the correspondence and the uninterrupted friendship
with Mrs Fuseli would seem wholly to clear Mary Wollstonecraft's memory from the imputation of any feeling for




208


I0TILLIAM GODWIN.


Fuseli in which there is reason for blame even by the most
censorious.
The Fuselis and Mr Johnson having given up the tour,
Mary went to France alone in December, and certainly no
object whatever finds place in her letters but the one of
rendering herself as good a French speaker as she was
-already a reader, and incidentally of finding a situation for
her sister, Mrs Bishop, among the many leading Frenchmen
who were then so eager for all that was English. She
found a home at first in the house of Madame Filiettaz, ned
Bregantz, the daughter of Madame Bregantz, in whose
school at Putney Mrs Bishop and Everina Wollstonecraft
had both been teachers. The following extract gives her
first impressions of Paris at a critical time, though none
then knew how critical.
Mary TVollstonecraft to Everina W4ollstonecraft.
" PARIS, Dec. 24Vh, '92.
"To-morrow I expect to see Aline" [Mme. Filiettaz]; "during
her absence the servants endeavoured to render the house-a
most excellent one-comfortable to me, but as I wish to acquire
the language as fast as I can, I was sorry to be obliged to remain
so much alone. I apply so closely to the language, and labour so
continually to understand what I hear that I never go to bed without a headache, and my spirits are fatigued with endeavouring to
form a just opinion of public affairs. The day after to-morrow I
expect to see the King at the bar, and the consequences that will
follow I am almost afraid to anticipate.
"I have seen very little of Paris-the streets are so dirty, and I
wait till I can make myself understood before I call upon Madame
Laurent, &c. Miss Williams has behaved very civilly to me, and
I shall visit her frequently, because I rather like her, and I meet
French company at her house. Her manners are affected, yet the
-simple goodness of her heart continually breaks through the




TRIAL OF LOUIS XVI.


209


varnish, so that one would be more inclined, at least I should,
to love than admire her. Authorship is a heavy weight for
female shoulders, especially in the sunshine of prosperity.  Of
the French I will not speak till I know more of them. They
seem the people of all others for a stranger to come amongst, yet
sometimes when I have given a commission which was eagerly
asked for, it has not been executed, and when I ask for an
explanation, I allude to the servant-maid, a quick girl, who, an't
please you, has been a teacher in an English boarding-school,
dust is thrown up with a self-sufficient air, and I am obliged to
appear to see her meaning clearly, though she puzzles herself, that
I may not make her feel her ignorance; but you must have
experienced the same thing.  I will write to you soon again,
meantime let me hear from you, and believe me yours sincerely
and affectionately,                            ' M. W."
Two days afterwards she addressed a letter to Mr Johnson. It has already been printed in the "Posthumous Works
of Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin: London, 1798." These
volumes were edited by Godwin, but are so very unlikely
to be known to many readers at the present day, that 'the
letter deserves quotation here.
JMary Wollstonecraft to Mr Johnson.
"PARIS, December 26, I792.
"I should immediately on the receipt of your letter, my dear
friend, have thanked you for your punctuality; for it highly gratified me, had I not wished to wait, till I could tell you that this
day was not stained with blood. [Wednesday, Dec. 26th, was
the day on which the King appeared to plead, by his advocate
Deseze.] Indeed, the prudent precautions taken by the National
Convention to prevent a tumult, made me suppose that the dogs
of faction would not dare to bark, much less to bite, however true
to their scent; and I was not mistaken; for the citizens, who were
all called out, are returning home with composed countenances,


I.


O




210


WILLIAM GODWIN.


shouldering their arms.  About nine o'clock this morning the
King passed by my window, moving silently along-excepting
now and then a few strokes on the drum, which rendered the
stillness more awful-through empty streets, surrounded by the
National Guards, who, clustering round the carriage, seemed to
deserve their name. The inhabitants flocked to their windows,
but the casements were all shut; not a voice was heard, nor did I
see anything like an insulting gesture. For the first time since I
entered France, I bowed to the majesty of the people, and respected
the propriety of behaviour, so perfectly in unison with my own
feelings. I can scarcely tell you why, but an association of ideas
made the tears flow insensibly from my eyes, when I saw Louis
sitting, with more dignity than I expected from his character, in a
hackney-coach, going to meet death, where so many of his race
have triumphed. My fancy instantly brought Louis XIV. before
me, entering the capital with all his pomp, after one of the victories
most flattering to his pride, only to see the sunshine of prosperity
overshadowed by the sublime gloom of misery. I have been
alone ever since; and though my mind is calm, I cannot dismiss
the lively images that have filled my imagination all the day.
Nay, do not smile, but pity me; for once or twice lifting my eyes
from the paper, I have seen eyes glare through a glass door
opposite my chair, and bloody hands shook at me. Not the
distant sound of a footstep can I hear. My apartments are remote
from those of the servants, the only persons who -sleep with me in
an immense hotel, one folding-door opening after another. I wish
I had even kept the cat with me! I want to see something alive,
death, in so many frightful shapes, has taken hold of my fancy. I
am going to bed, and, for the first time in my life, I cannot put
out the candle.                                 M. W."
The news which reached England from France was of
the most scanty kind, and little was heard of individuals
after the troubles in Paris really began.   Mrs Bishop's
letters are full of complaints that she so seldom has news




INDIGNA TION AGAINST FRANCE.


21


of Mary; for, in her ignorance of what was really occurring,
she even professes herself ready to join her. Those among
whom she lived did not wish to hear more, and marvelled
that anyone, especially a woman, should take any interest
in politics.
Mrs Bishop to Everina Wollstonecraft.
"UPTON CASTLE, Januazry 20, I793.
"... I never can get to see a paper; and if anyone of our
Bears call, the whole family leave the room when I say a word
about Politics, or else order them to talk of something else; and,
of course, the conversation turns on AMurphy or Irish Potatoes, or
Tommy Paine, whose effigy they burnt at Pembroke the other day.
Nay, they talk of immortalizing Miss Wollstonecraft in the like
manner; but all end in Damning all Politics: what good will
they do men? and what rights have men that three meals a-day
will not supply? So argues a Welshman. I heard a clergyman
say that he was sure there was no more harm in shooting a Frenchman, than in lifting his piece at a Bird. And a gentleman-I
cannot find out who-sent me this receipt:"' An effectual cure for the bite of a Mad Frenchman: Mix a
grain of common sense in the milk of human nature with two
grains of honour, and half-a-dram of loyalty; let the patient take
this night and morning, and he will be in his senses all day."'
The Same to the Same.
"UPTON CASTLE, February IO, '93.
".. I should like to know what you felt on first hearing
Louis's death. I own I was shocked, but not deluged in tears.
In short, I could bear to hear it read, and hoped they had some
motive for such an act of cruelty that our newspapers did not
explain. But to hear him cried up as the best of men, and that
no man's sufferings or fortitude equalled the King of France's, is
to me quite novel.  The depth of his understanding and the




212


I2t:ILLIAM GOD WIN.


goodness of his heart, is all the men here can talk of. Was he
really that innocent kind of man they here represent him? The
military men- at Pembroke, who have left the service, furnish
opinions for the people, who declare, with one voice, that the
French are all Atheists, and the most bloody Butchers the world
ever produced. Rees is pale with passion if the subject is introduced, declaring the world is going to be at an end; that the
Assassins are Instrzuments in the hands of Providence.  I can
hardly tell you, then, with what delight I read Fox's manly
speech, or how clear and replete with good sense it appeared to
me; in short, every word carried conviction with it; yet this man
is condemned, with Paine, as an unworthy wretch. I was obliged
to sit up till three this morning, to read the debates; for a gentleman had lent the paper to R., and I could not have it.
"God bless you.-Yours affectionately,         ELIZA."
In the following year some refugee French priests were
lodging at Pembroke, and Mrs Bishop went from Saturday
to Monday in each week to that town, spending nearly all
her time with two of them, an aged bishop and his brother,
for the sake of learning French more thoroughly. The
following extract describes their reception in Pembrokeshire:
Tze Same to the Same.
"UPTON CASTLE, Mayz 241, '94.
"... I believe I told you they fled from wretched France.
They landed near Haverford West, and were used worse, they
declare, than if they had been in Paris. The P[rimat], though he
had fainted among the savages, had a stone flung at his head, and
[was] guarded all night-though he expected every moment to be
his last; for, in spite of the letter to Government, they were
treated as Republicans.  This good creature was compelled to
walk three miles, though nearly fainting at every step he took,
surrounded by men, women, and children, gazing, not at his pale
face, but at a handkerchief that supplied the place of a wig that




GILBERT IMLA Y.


21 1


the waves had stolen from him. The moment he was housed at
Pembroke, all the children were admitted into the room, where he
sat for many hours, his head sunk on the table, till at last he was
allowed to go to bed....
" IHe was for a year and a half concealed by friends from the
Republicans, and was so narrowly watched, that neither of the
brothers saw daylight during that period. They at last made their
escape, merely with the hope of saving the family who had sheltered
them. At fifty, it is dreadful to be snatched from the lap of
abundance, for M. Graux had his carriage and every elegance of
life, and to feel all the horrors of dependence in a strange country."
In the meantime, Mary Wollstonecraft's position in France
had become extremely difficult, if not precarious. It was
impossible that she should receive remittances from England, nor could she return when once war was declared.
It was at this juncture, at some time in the spring or summer of I793, that she met Mr Gilbert Imlay, an Americany
then living in Paris.  He had been a captain in the
American army during the late war, and was afterwards a
commissioner for laying out land in the back settlements.
He appears to have been a speculator in many ways, without real fortune, but with some command of money, and to
have been an attractive person. He certainly was an able
man, for a work published by him, called "A Topographical
Description of the Western Territory of North America,"
is a model of what a monograph on a new country should
be. It is clear, full, and condensed, yet not so much as to
hinder the reader even now from finding it an interesting
work, and in its own day it went through many editions.
The kindness he showed Mary Wollstonecraft disposed
her to look on him favourably, and she soon gave him
a very sincere affection. Opposed as were her views to




2I4


WILLIAM GODWIN.


those of the majority of women in her own, and even
in this day, yet they were those which now are, except
on one point, held by very many cultivated women,
without a shadow of blame attaching to them.   Her
opinions on the equality of the sexes, on the social and
political position of women, might now be held without
remark, and it would not be too much to say that she
was simply in advance of her age in giving expression
on those subjects to thoughts which are held increasingly by men and women of advanced political views,
but of many shades of devout religion. On the question
alone of the relation of the sexes, there is no indication
of any approximation to her theories. Her view had now
become that mutual affection was marriage, and that the
marriage tie should not bind after the death of love, if love
should die. It must be remembered that her own experience
of family life was not likely to ennoble it in her eyes. Her
father, Mr Blood, Mr Bishop, and Lord Kingsborough, in
whom chiefly she had seen what husbands maybe, were not favourable specimens; her sister was living as an unwived wife,
without any prospect of such a separation as would enable
her to form another tie. Men who were far from acting on
these theories as did Rousseau, yet who were moving the'
minds of men to an unprecedented extent, were proclaiming
that man should return to a more "natural" system'- the
accidental defects of certain marriages were pointed out as
the inherent vices of all./
Yet it is probable that what Mary Wollstonecraft held,
as a theory, in.common with others who did not put their
theories into act, would have been held by her most blamelessly, had it not been for the untoward circumstances which
seemed to claim that she should act upon them. A legal
marriage with Mr Imlay was difficult, if not impossible.




RELA TION TO IMLA Y.


2Is


Her position as a British subject was full of danger; a
marriage would have forced her openly to declare herself
as such. It may be doubted whether the ceremony, if any
could have taken place, would have had validity in
England. Under the protection of Imlay, and passing
as his wife without such preliminary declaration, her safety
was assured. Imlay, long after this period, declared her to
be his wife in a document which in some cases would be
considered as constituting a marriage.  She believed
that his love, which was to her sacred, would endure. No
one can read her letters without seeing that she was a pure,
high-minded and refined woman, and that she considered
herself, in the eyes of God and man, his wife. Religious as
she was, and with a strong moral sense, she yet made
the grand mistake of supposing that it is possible for one
woman to undo the consecrated custom of ages, to - set
herself in opposition to the course of society and not to be
crushed by it. And she made the no less fatal mistake
of judging Imlay by her own standard, and thinking that
he was as true, as impassioned, *as self - denying as
herself.
Mary Wollstonecraft was living with Imlay as his wife in
August I793, in Paris, but he was soon afterwards called to
Havre on business and was absent for some months. During
this period letters passed between them, of which her own
were afterwards returned to her, and were published after her
death. " They are," as Godwin said of them, " the offspring
of a glowing imagination, and a heart penetrated with the
passion it essays to describe." But they are the letters of a
tender and devoted wife, who feels no doubt of her position.
Towards the close of I793, Imlay had established himself
in some commercial business at Havre, where Mary joined
him, and there, in the spring of i794, she gave birth to a




2i6


WILLIAM GOD WIN.


girl, who received the name of Fanny, in memory of the
dear friend of her youth.
Some rumours of all these circumstances had reached the
sisters in England, but only such as to render them extremely perplexed as to the true state of the case.
Charles Wollstonecraft to Mrs Bishop.
"PHILADELPHIA, '-une i6th 1794.
[After saying he was doing extremely well, and making an offer
of a home or assistance to his sisters, he continues] " I heard
from Mary, six months ago, by a gentleman who knew her at
Paris, and since that have been informed she is married to Captain
Imlay of this country."...
Mrs Bishop to Everina Wollstonecraft.
" UPTON CASTLE, August 15th 1794.
[Enclosing copy of the above.].. "Can this be a dream, my heart's best friend? I would I
could fancy these things matters of fact. I mean the poor fellow's
wonderful good luck in so short a time. I own I want faith" [her
want of faith was justified; since Charles's account of himself proved
pure brag], " nay, doubt my senses, so I have sent you word for
word, to spell and put together.... If Mary is actually married
to Mr Imlay, it is not impossible but she might settle there" [in
America] "too. Yet Mary cannot be Married!! It is natural
to conclude her protector is her husband. Nay, on reading Charles's
letter, I for an instant believed it true. I would, my Everina, we
were out of suspense, for all at present is uncertainty and the most
cruel suspense; still Johnson does not repeat things at random,
and that the very same tale should have crossed the Atlantic
makes me almost believe that the once M. is now Mrs Imlay, and
a mother. Are we ever to see this mother and her babe?"
In September I794, business called Mr Imlay to London,
and Mary returned to Paris. A separation of some months




GRO WING INDIFFERENCE.


217


chilled his affection, and though they met again, his desertion of her had now really begun.
Mr JIlla/y to mrs Bishop.
[LONDON, November 1794.]
"MY DEAR MADAM. -Mr Johnson gave me your acceptable favor
inclosing one to Mrs Imlay, saying it was for her, which leaving
me ignorant of being included, I could not return an immediate
answer; since which time I have been out of town.  I hope
this circumstance will appear to you a sufficient apology for my
silence, and that you will be pleased to consider it a good reason
for preventing a forfeit of that claim to humanity or at least
respect and esteem for a person so affectionately loved by my
dear Mary as yourself, which you say had already been impressed
on your mind.
"As to your sister's visiting England, I do not think she will
previous to a peace, and perhaps not immediately after such an
event. However, be that as it may, we shall both of us continue
to cherish feelings of tenderness for you, and a recollection of
your unpleasant situation, and we shall also endeavour to alleviate
its distress by all the means in our power. The present state of
our fortune is rather" [word omitted]. "However you must know
your sister too well, and I am sure you judge of that knowledge
too favourably to suppose that whenever she has it in her power
she will not apply some specific aid to promote your happiness. I
shall always be most happy to receive your letters, but as I shall
most likely leave England the beginning of next week, I will thank
you to let me hear from you as soon as convenient, and tell me
ingenuously in what way I can serve you in any manner or respect.
I am in but indifferent spirits occasioned by my long absence from
Mrs Imlay, and our little girl, while I am deprived of a chance
of hearing from them.-Adieu, yours truly,
" G. IMLAY."




218


WILLIAM GOD WIN


Mary Wollstonecraft to Everinza Wollstonecraft.
"HAVRE, March IOtA '94.
"MY DEAR GIRL.-It is extremely uncomfortable to write to you
thus without expecting, or even daring to ask for an answer, lest I
should involve others in my difficulties, and make them suffer for
protecting me. The French are at present so full of suspicion that
had a letter of James's imprudently sent to me been opened, I
would not have answered for the consequence.  I have just
sent off great part of my MS., which Miss Williams would
fain have had me burnf, following her example; and to tell
you the truth, my life would not have been worth much had
it been found.  It is impossible for you to have any idea of
the impression the sad scenes I have been witness to have left on
my mind. The climate of France is uncommonly fine, the country
pleasant, and there is a degree of ease and even simplicity in the
manners of the common people which attaches me to them. Still
death and misery, in every shape of terror, haunt this devoted
country. I certainly am glad that I came to France, because I
never could have had a just opinion -of the most extraordinary
event that has ever been recorded, and I have met with some uncommon instances of friendship, which my heart will ever gratefully
store up, and call to mind when the remembrance is keen of the
anguish it has endured for its fellow-creatures at large-for the
unfortunate beings cut off around me, and the still more unfortunate survivors. If any of the many letters I have written have
come to your hands or Eliza's, you know that I am safe, through
the protection of an American, a most worthy man, who joins to
uncommon tenderness of heart and quickness of feeling, a soundness of understanding and reasonableness of temper rarely to be
met with. Having also been brought up in the interior parts of
America, he is a most natural, unaffected creature. I am with
him now at Havre, and shall remain there, till circumstances
point out what is necessary for me to do. Before I left Paris, I
attempted to find the Laurents, whom I had several times previously sought for, but to no purpose. And I am apt to think that




LETTER FROM PARIS.


2I19


it was very prudent in them to leave a shop that had been the
resort of the nobility.
"Where is poor Eliza?  From a letter I received many many
months after it was written, I suppose she is in Ireland. Will you
write to tell her that I most affectionately remember her, and still
have in my mind some places for her future comfort. Are you
well? But why do I ask? you cannot reply to me. This thought
throws a damp on my spirits whilst I write, and makes my letter
rather an act of duty than a present satisfaction. God bless you!
I will write by every opportunity, and am yours sincerely and
affectionately,                                 MARY."
The Same to the Same.
[PARIS, September 1794.]
"As you must, my dear girl, have received several letters from
me, especially one I sent to London by Mr Imlay, I avail myself
of this. opportunity just to tell you that I am well and my child,
and to request you to write by this occasion. I do indeed long to
hear from you and Eliza. I have at last got some tidings of Charles,
and as they must have reached you, I need not tell you what
sincere satisfaction they afforded me. I have also heard from
James, he too talks of success, but in a querulous strain. What
are you doing? Where is Eliza? You have perhaps answered
these questions 'in answer to the letters I gave in charge to Mr I.,
but fearing that some fatality might have prevented their reaching
you, let me repeat that I have written to you and to Eliza at least
half a score of times, pointing out different ways for you to write
to me, still have received no answers. I have again and again
given you an account of my present situation, and introduced Mr
Imlay to you as a brother you would love and respect. I hope
'the time is not very distant when we shall all meet. Do be
very particular in your account of yourself, and if you have not
time to procure me a letter from Eliza, tell me all about her. Tell
me too what is become of George, &c., &c. I only write to ask
questions and to assure you that I am most affectionately yours,
"MARY IMLAY."




220              IWILLIAM GOD WIN.
[P.S.']"PARIS, Sep. 20t/i.
"Should peace take place this winter, what say you to a voyage
in the spring, if not to see your old acquaintance, to see Paris,
which I think you did not do justice to. I want you to see my
little girl, who is more like a boy. She is ready to fly away with
spirits, and has eloquent health in her cheeks and eyes. She
does not promise to be a beauty, but appears wonderfully intelligent, and though I am sure she has her father's quick temper and
feelings, her good humour runs away with all the credit of my
good nursing.
" I managed myself so well that my lying-in scarcely deserved
the name. I only rested, through persuasion, in bed one day, and
was out a-walking on the eighth. She is now only four months
old.  She caught the small-pox at Havre, where they treat the
dreadful disorder very improperly.  I however determined to
follow the suggestions of my own reason, and saved her much
pain, probably her life, for she was very full, by putting her twice
a-day into a warm bath. Once more adieu. The letter not being
sent for as soon as I expected, gave me an opportunity to add this
prattling postcript. You will see the last vol. I have written, it is
the commencement of a considerable work. Tell Mrs Skeys, who
could not fulfil her promise respecting her portrait, that it was
written during my pregnancy."
Imlay was now involved in a multitude of speculations
which rendered him restless and dissatisfied with the competency which it seems that at one time he had secured.
The plan that he and Mary Wollstonecraft had proposed
to themselves was to settle on a farm either in France or
America, but he now embarked in trade connected with
Norway and Sweden, which was, he considered, to bring
him a large fortune. His interest in Mary and his child
sensibly cooled, and though he allowed them to join him in
England, her letters to him show that she did so with a
heavy heart, and gloomy forebodings of coming sorrow.




MR HAMILTON ROWAN.


221


Mr Rowan, to whom the following letter is addressed on
her departure from France, was just about to settle in
America, where Charles Wollstonecraft already was established in Philadelphia.
Archibald Hamilton Rowan, Esq., Secretary of the
Society of United Irishmen, was prosecuted January 29,
1794, for having published a seditious libel. After a trial
at Bar, in which he was defended by Curran, he was found
guilty, was sentenced to pay a fine of ~500, to be imprisoned for two years, and at the end of this time to give
security for his good behaviour for seven years, himself in,~2000 and two sureties in    xiooo each.   Within four
months he escaped from gaol, and found his way to Havre,
then called Havre Marat, in lieu of its old name Havre de
Grace.
Mlary Wollstonecraft to A rclibald Hamilton Rowan, Esq.
"HAVRE, April 1795.
"MY DEAR SIR,-I wrote a few hasty lines to you just now,
before we entered the vessel, and after hurrying myself out of
breath-for as I do not like exaggerated phrases, I would not say
to death-the awkward pilot ran us aground, so here we are in an
empty house; and with the heart and imagination on the wing,
you may suppose that the slow march of time is felt very painfully.
I seem to be counting the ticking of a clock, and there is no clock
here. For these few days I have been busy preparing, now all is
done, and we cannot go. If you were to pop in I should be glad,
for in spite of my impatience to see a friend who deserves all
tenderness, I still have a corner in my heart, where I will allow
you a place, if you have no objection. It would give me sincere
pleasure to meet you at any future period, and to be introduced to
your wife. Pray take care of yourself, and when you arrive let me
hear from you. Direct to me at Mr Johnson's, St Paul's Churchyard, London, and wherever I may be the letter will not fail to




222


WILLIAM GODWIN.


reach me. You will not find a very comfortable house; but I
have left a little store of provisions in a closet, and the girl who
assisted in our kitchen, and who has been well paid, has promised
to do everything for you. Mr Wheatcroft has all your packages,
and will give you all the information and assistance he can. I
believe I told you that I offered Mr Russell's family my house,
but since I arrived I find there is some chance of letting it. Will
you then, when Mr Wheatcroft informs you in what manner he
has settled it, write the particulars to them. I imagine that the
house will be empty for a short time to come at any rate, but I
found it necessary to take my linen with me, and the good people
here sold my kitchen furniture for me. Still I think, as they have
many necessaries, they will find this house much more comfortable
than an inn. I neither like to say or write adieu. If you see my
brother Charles, pray assure him that I most affectionately remember him. Take every precaution to avoid danger.-Yours sincerely,
"MARY IMLAY."
Mary Wollstonecraft to Everina Wollstonecraft.
April 27th [x795].
" When you hear, my dear Everina, that I have been in London
near a fortnight without writing to you or Eliza, you will perhaps
accuse me of insensibility, for I shall not lay any stress on my not
being well in consequence of a violent cold I caught during the
time I was nursing; but tell you that I put off writing because I
was at a loss what I could do to render Eliza's situation more
comfortable. I instantly gave Jones ten pounds to send, for a
very obvious reason, in his own name to my father, and I could
send her a trifle of this kind immediately, were a temporary assistance necessary. I believe I told you that Mr Imlay had not a
fortune when I first knew him; since that he has entered into very
extensive plans, which promise a degree of success, though not
equal to the first prospect. When a sufficient sum is actually
realized, I know he will give me for you and Eliza five or six
hundred pounds, or more if he can. In what way could this be




RETURN TO ENGLAND.


223


of the most use to you? I am above concealing my sentiments,
though I have boggled at uttering them. It would give me sincere
pleasure to be situated near you both. I cannot yet say where I
shall determine to spend the rest of my life; but I do not wish to
have a third person in the house with me; my domestic happiness
would perhaps be interrupted without my being of much use to
Eliza. This is not a hastily-formed opinion, nor is it in consequence of my present attachment, yet I am obliged now to express
it, because it appears to me that you have formed some such
expectation for Eliza. You may wound me by remarking on my
determination, still I know on what principle I act, and therefore
you can only judge for yourself. I have not heard from Charles
for a great while. By writing to me immediately you would relieve
me from considerable anxiety. Mrs Imlay, No. 26 Charlotte St.,
Rathbone Place.- -Yours sincerely,             " MARY."
Mrs bisiop to Everina Wollstonecraft.
" PEMBROKE, April 29, 1795.
" Read the following letter: 'I arrived in town near a fortnight
ago, my dear girl, but having previously weaned my child on
account of a cough, I found myself extremely weak. I have intended writing to you every day, but have been prevented by the
impossibility of determining in what way I can be of essential
service to you. When Mr Imlay and I united our fate together,
he was without fortune; since that, there is a prospect of his
obtaining a considerable one; but though the hope appears to be
well founded, I cannot yet act as if it were a certainty. He is the
most generous creature in the world, and if he succeed, as I have the
greatest reason to think he will, he will, in proportion to his acquirement of property, enable me to be useful to you and Everina. I
wish you and her would adopt any plan in which five or six hundred pounds would be of use. As to myself, I cannot yet say
where I shall live for a continuance. It would give me the sincerest pleasure to be situated near you. I know you will think me




224


WILLIAM GOD WIN.


unkind, and it was this reflection which has prevented my writing
to you sooner, not to invite you to come and live with me. But,
Eliza, it is my opinion, not a readily formed one, the presence of
a third person interrupts or destroys domestic happiness. -Excepting this sacrifice, there is nothing I would not do to promote
your comfort. I am hurt at being obliged to be thus explicit, and
do indeed feel for the disappointments which you have met with
in life. I have not heard from Charles, nor can I guess what he
is about. What was done with the. j50 he speaks of having sent
to England? Do, pray, write to me immediately, and do justice
to my heart. I do not wish to endanger my own peace without a
certainty of securing yours. Yet I am still your most sincere and
affectionate friend,                           MARY.'
'26 CHARLOTTE ST., RATHBONE PLACE, LONDON.'
"This I have just received. My Everina, what I felt, and shall
for ever feel! It is childish to talk of. After lingering above a
fortnight in such cruel suspense. Good God! what a letter!
How have I merited such pointed cruelty? When did I wish to
live with her? At what time wish for a moment to interrupt their
domestic happiness? Was ever a present offered in so humiliating
a style? Ought the poorest domestic to be thus insulted?- Are
your eyes opened at last, Everina? What do you now say to our
goodly prospects? I have such a mist before my lovely eyes that
I cannot now see what I write. Instantly get me a situation
in Ireland, I care not where.  Dear Everina, delay not to
tell me you can procure bread, with what hogs I eat it,
I care not, nay, if exactly the Uptonian breed.  Remember
I am serious.  If you disappoint me, my misery will be
complete.  I have enclosed this famous letter to the author
of the 'Rights of Women' without any reflection.    She
shall never hear from poor Bess again.  Remember, I am  as
fixed as my misery, and nothing can change my present plan.
This letter has so strongly agitated me that I know not what I
say; but this I feel, and know, that if you value my existence you
will comply with my requisition, for I am positive I will never tor



ESTRANGE.MENT OF THE SISTERS.


225


ment our amiable friend in Charlotte Street. Is not this a good
spring, my dear girl? At least poor Bess can say it is a fruitful
one. Alas, poor Bess!"
Mrs Bishop to Everina Wollstonecraft.
"PEMBROKE, May 10, 1795.
"MY DEAR EVERINA,-Though I know it is impossible for you
to have answered either of my last letters, yet I feel vexed at not
hearing from you. I am so eager for you to say you have procured a situation for me in Dublin. I now have only ten days to
spend at Pembroke, yet am quite uncertain what ' poor Bess's'
future fate is to be. I mean to stay with my father a week, or
little more, so write and tell me the price of the new stage from
Waterford to the capital. Also inform me from what inn it sets
off, not forgetting the hour. There is no vessel now that can sail
for Ireland, so I must send my box to London, and from thence
to our mother country. What say you to Mrs Imlay's friendly
epistle?  I told you I returned it with only these words: ' Mrs
B. has never received any money from America.' Nine days have
now elapsed, and here I am waiting for your letter, my dear
Everina. Can you blame me for returning Mrs I.'s letter? I am
sick of thinking on the subject, and weary of anticipating ought
from to-morrow. If it is impossible to procure me bread immediately, perhaps George would permit me to remain with him until
you succeed. Recollect I value not what situation you get meagreeable or disagreeable will be equally acceptable to the sister
of the author of the 'Rights of Women.' I now have not the
smallest wish to quit Wales, nor are my prospects in the least
cheered by the idea of seeing you so soon. For I am sick to
death of arguing and accounting for the unaccountable events of
this wretched life, and as thoroughly tired of the lingering existence I have dragged on year after year, spring after spring. To
receive aught now from your Mary appears to me to be the height
of meanness. Would to God we were both in America with
Charles. Do you think it would be possible for us to go from


I.


p




226


22' ILLIAXM GOD WIN.


Dublin to Philadelphia in an American ship? This is my only
hope, yet I am afraid to indulge it. I beseech you to write to
Charles immediately. I am sure our sister would be delighted
with this plan, and our new brother will of course display all his
energy of character to render it practicable. Was it greatness of
mind or heart which dictated the ever-memorable letter, which has
so stupified me that I know not what I write, for I have incessant headaches to such a degree that it is a torture for
me to take up a pen. Alas! at the end of four long years,
could despair itself have dreamed of such studied cruelty? No inquiries after my present wants, &c.; no wish to see us.  Mr
Imlay's silence was a bad omen, and that she could remain in
London a fortnight, and then send poor Bess such a cordial! Oh!
that I could find another Upton, for I never more wish to be near
those I love. The last month with the good and amiable Graux
has been dreadfully embittered. He is now very ill, and thoroughly
hurt at my sublime sister. He sends his love to Everina, whom
he is much more anxious to see than the famous Mrs Wollstonecraft. Write to me immediately. Direct to me at Laugharne, for
an answer cannot reach me here before I leave. Send every
particular relative to the coach at Waterford, and what house will
receive me in Dublin? The visit to my father will add greatly to
my expense: be particular about the terms. I know not what I
say, I am so dull and weary of my miserable life. Is not this a
goodly spring, and is not Bess a lucky girl.? The amiable Mary
pined in poverty, while Mrs Imlay enjoys all her heart can sigh
for.
"Good night."                              [Ussigned.]
The truth, however, was wholly other than Mrs Bishop
supposed. When Mary and Imlay again met in England,
his affairs proved seriously embarrassed, and his affection
had sensibly cooled. There was not as yet, indeed, any
word of a permanent separation; but as they had, in fact,
been actually together during but a short time of their




REMARKABLE DOCUMENT.


227


connection, so now it was evident that Imlay's speculations
in trade, which were extended to various countries, would
separate them still more; and nothing was further from his
intentions than to settle down on a moderate competence
with her who counted herself his wife, and their child.
It proved necessary that some one should go to Sweden
and Norway on Imlay's part, on some business, not clearly
stated, but connected with his trade; while his own presence
was urgently required elsewhere. The voyage, it was thought,
would prove of advantage to Mary's health; and, in the
June following their meeting, she made the voyage, and
undertook the business.
The document already mentioned remains, in which
Imlay spoke of her as his wife, and gave her power to act
for him. It is as follows:"Afay 19, 1795.
"Know all men, by these presents, that., Gilbert Imlay, citizen
of the United States of America, at present residing in London, do
nominate, constitute, and appoint Mary Imlay, my best friend and
wife, to take the sole management and direction of all my affairs
and business which I had placed in the hands of Mr Elias Bachman, negotiant, Gottenburg, or in those of Messrs Myburg &
Co., Copenhagen, desiring that she will manage and direct such
concerns in such manner as she may deem most wise and prudent.
For which this letter shall be a sufficient power, enabling her to
receive all the money or sums of money that may be recovered
from Peter Ellyson or his connections, whenever the issue of the
tryal now carrying on, instigated by Mr Elias Bachman, as my
agent, for the violation of the trust which I had reposed in his
integrity.
" Considering the aggravated distresses, the accumulated losses
and damages sustained in consequence of the said Ellisson's disobedience of my injunctions, I desire the said Mary Imlay will
clearly ascertain the amount of such damages, taking first the
* *.,.........,  ^  \!
~~ e* ~.




228.


WILLIAM GODWIN.


advice of persons qualified to judge of the probability of obtaining
satisfaction, or the means the said Ellisson or his connections who
may be proved to be implicated in his guilt may have, or power
of being able to make restitution, and then commence a new prosecution for the same accordingly...
"Respecting the cargo of goods in the hands of Messrs Myburg
and Co., Mrs Imlay has only to consult the most experienced
persons engaged in the disposition of such articles, and then
placing them at their disposal, act as she may deem right and
proper...
"Thus, confiding in the talent, zeal, and earnestness of my
dearly beloved friend and companion, I submit the management
of these affairs entirely and implicitly to her discretion.
"Remaining most sincerely and affectionately hers truly,
"G. IMLAY.
" Witness, J. SAMORIEL."
Her letters to Imlay during this period were afterwards published, when divested of all that was personal and private, under the title, "Letters from Norway,"
and are still thoroughly worth reading, as a picturesque
and graceful description of a summer tour. The more
personal portions may be found among her posthumous
works, and carry on the sad tale of her sorrows.
She returned to England in the late autumn, to meet
letters from Imlay, which made it plain they were to
part, but offering to settle an annuity on her and her child.
This, for herself, she rejected with scorn. "From you," she
writes, "I will not recgive any more; I am not yet sufficiently humbled to depend on your beneficence." They met
once again, when Imlay attempted to gloss over the past, so
that it seemed possible, for the child's sake, that they might
still remain together. But though he had assured her that
he had no other attachment, she discovered in a short time
that he was carrying on an unworthy intrigue under her own




A TTEMlIPTED SUICIDE.


'2'2)


roof  It was then that, driven to despair, and for a time
quite out of her mind, she attempted to drown herself
by leaping from Putney Bridge; and when that attempt
was frustrated, although she was quite insensible when
taken out of the water, she still nursed for some time
the desire of ending her existence.  The letters written
during this period are some of the most terrible and most
touching ever penned. But calmer counsels, and the loving
care of her friends, among whom Mr Johnson was chief,
prevailed. She determined once again to support herself
by her pen, and resented all attempts of Imlay to induce
her to accept support from him. "I want not such vulgar
comfort," she says, "nor will I accept it. I never wanted
but your heart: that gone, you have nothing more to give.
Forgive me, if I say that I shall consider any direct or
indirect attempt to supply my necessities as an insult I
have not merited, and as rather done out of tenderness for
your own reputation than for me." With regard to Fanny's
maintenance, she neither accepted nor refused anything.
"You must do as you please with regard to the child," was
her final decision. Imlay eventually gave a bond for a sum
to be settled on his child, the interest to be devoted to her
maintenance; but neither principal nor interest was ever
paid.
The following letter to Mr Rowan was written just after
the final parting with Imlay.
Mary Wollstonecraft to A. Hamilton Rowzan, Esq.
"LONDON, 26th Jany., 1796.
"MY DEAR SIR,-Though I have not heard from you, I should
have written to you, convinced of your friendship, could I have
told you anything of myself that could have afforded you pleasure.
I am unhappy. I have been treated with unkindness, and even




230


2I3WLLIT.AM GOD WIN.


cruelty, by the person from whom I had every reason to expect
affection. I write to you with an agitated hand. I cannot be
more explicit. I value your good opinion, and you know how to
feel for me. I looked for something like happiness in the discharge of my relative duties, and the heart on which I leaned has
pierced mine to the quick. I have not been used well, and I live
but for my child; for I am weary of myself. I still think of settling
in France, because I wish to leave my little girl there. I have
been very ill, have taken some desperate steps; but I am now
writing for independence. I wish I had no other evil to complain
of than the necessity of providing for myself and my child. Do
not mistake me.  Mr Imlay would be glad to supply all my
pecuniary wants; but unless he returns to himself, I would perish
first. Pardon the incoherence of my style. I have put off writing
to you from time to time, because I could not write calmly. Pray
write to me. I will not fail, I was going to say, when I have anything good to tell you. But for me there is nothing good in store
-my heart is broken!-I am yours, &c.    MARY IMLAY."
Still, for the sake of the child, bearing Imlay's name, she
began again to enter into London literary society, in which
she and Godwin were almost equally conspicuous.




CHAPTER IX.


A J4RRIED     LIFE. 1797.
THE fragmentary notes which Mrs Shelley left, in reference to her mother, are all full of very peculiar interest.
They serve to manifest not only the sympathy, partly
intellectual, partly physical, felt by the gifted daughter
for the still more gifted mother, who died in giving her
birth, but also the estimate in which that mother was held
by Godwin and by such friends as Mrs Reveley, from whom
Mrs Shelley learned all that she knew of her dead mother.
Some of these notes are too incomplete for quotation, mere
drafts and hints of sentences, which might afterwards be
finished; but one, more entire, may here be given, describing the estimate which she had been led to form of Mary
Wollstonecraft at the time of her marriage.
"Mary Wollstonecraft was one of those beings who appear
once perhaps in a generation, to gild humanity with a ray which
no difference of opinion nor chance of circumstances can cloud.
Her genius was undeniable. She had been bred in the hard school
of adversity, and having experienced the sorrows entailed on the
poor and the oppressed, an earnest desire was kindled within her
to diminish these sorrows. Her sound understanding, her intrepidity, her sensibility and eager sympathy, stamped all her writings
with force and truth, and endowed them with a tender charm that
enchants while it enlightens. She was one whom all loved who
had ever seen her. Many years are passed since that beating heart




232


WILLIAM GOD W7[INV.


has been laid in the cold still grave, but no one who has ever seen
her speaks of her without enthusiastic veneration. Did she witness
an act of injustice, she boldly came forward to point it out, and
induce its reparation. Was there discord among friends or relatives, she stood by the weaker party, and by her earnest appeals and
kindliness awoke latent affection, and healed all wounds. 'Open
as day to melting charity,' with a heart brimful of generous affection, yearning for sympathy, she had fallen on evil days, and her
life had been one course of hardship, poverty, lonely struggle, and
bitter disappointment.
' Godwin met her at the moment when she was deeply depressed
by the ingratitude of one utterly incapable of appreciating her
excellence; who had stolen her heart, and availed himself of her
excessive and thoughtless generosity, and lofty independence of
character, to plunge her in difficulties and then desert her. Difficulties, worldly difficulties, indeed, she set at nought, compared.
with her despair of good, her confidence betrayed, and when once
she could conquer the misery that clung to her heart, she struggled
cheerfully to meet the poverty that was her inheritance, and to do
her duty by her darling child. It was at this time that Godwin
again met her, at the house of her friend Miss Hayes," having
before done so occasionally before she went to Norway.
Godwin's first impression of her was not a pleasing one.
He wished to hear Tom Paine talk, who was also of the
party, and always a silent man, and he considered that Mrs
Imlay talked too much. He was also-an extremely fastidious
critic, and had been offended at some slight verbal inaccuracies, as they seemed to him, in her earlier works. But
after reading the letters from Norway, his views about her
culture were wholly altered. He saw that the blemishes,
if indeed they had really existed, were but superficial, and
he speedily yielded to the charm which all that knew her
recognised.  His own exquisitely written description of
their love is published in the Memoirs of his wife, but a




RULES FOR MAARRIED LIFE.


2'33'


passage may here be extracted from a book which now is
scarce, and but little known. He says,
" The partiality we conceived for each other was in that mode
which I have always considered as the purest, and most refined
style of love. It grew with equal advances in the mind of each.
It would have been impossible for the most minute observer to
have said who was before and who was after. One sex did not
take the priority which long established custom has awarded it,
nor the other overstep that delicacy which is so severely imposed.
I am not conscious that either party can assume to have been the
agent or the patient, the toil spreader or the prey, in the affair.
When, in the course of things, the disclosure came, there was
nothing, in a manner, for either party to disclose to the other....
There was no period of throes and resolute explanation attendant
on the tale. It was friendship melting into love."
The description of their married happiness is equally
striking. The slight clouds which will appear in the correspondence which passed between them, were of an extremely
transient character, and arose from Mary Wollstonecraft's
extreme sensitiveness and eager quickness of temper, which
were perhaps now- and then tried by Godwin's confirmed
bachelor habits, and also by the fact that he took au pied
de la lettre all that she said about the independence of
women, when in truth she leant a good deal on the aid of
others. Into one plan of Godwin's, which may seem strange,
his wife willingly fell. His strong view on the possibility
that families may easily weary of the society of their different members, led him to take rooms in a house about
twenty doors from that in the Polygon, Somers Town, which
was their joint home. To this study he repaired as soon as
he rose in the morning, rarely even breakfasting at the Polygon, and here also he often slept. Each was engaged in
his and her own literary occupations, and they seldom met,
unless they walked together, till dinner time each day.




234


WIILLIAM GOD WIIA


"       We agreed, also," says Godwin, "in condemning the notion,
prevalent in many situations in life, that a man and his wife cannot
visit in mixed society, but in company with each other; and we
rather sought occasions of deviating from than in complying with
this rule."
Before the marriage was declared, but while the intimate
relation in which they stood to each other was understood,
Southey, then in London, met Godwin and Mary, and
wrote to his friend Cottle his views of them.
R. Southey to Y. Cottlc.
" arch 13th, I797.
"... Of all the lions or literati I have seen here, Mary Imlay's
countenance is the best, infinitely the best: the only fault in it is
an expression somewhat similar to what the prints of Home Tooke
display-an expression indicating superiority; not haughtiness,
not sarcasm, in Mary Imlay, but still it is unpleasant. Her eyes
are light brown, and although the lid of one of them is affected
by a little paralysis, they are the most meaning I ever saw.... As for Godwin himself, he has large noble eyes, and a nose
-oh most abominable nose! Language is not vituperatious
enough to describe the effect of its downward elongation."Southey's LZfe, Vol. i., pp. 305, 306.
The marriage itself took place at Old St Pancras Church
on March 29th, 1797, Marshal and the clerk of the church
being the witnesses. Godwin takes no notice whatever of
it in his diary.
Among those whowereentitled to earlyinformationwas Mr
Thomas Wedgwood of Etruria. His correspondence during
the early months of this year with Godwin had been familiar
and lengthy, chiefly concerned with difficult metaphysical
problems in the study of which both were interested. In




EXCUSES FOR MARRIAGE.


235


one, however, he asks for a loan of ~o5, and the request
was at once granted, but he did not at once explain the
reason that he required such a sum, though he knew that
his friend would be astonished, since his careful frugality
was well known. The money was in fact required to
enable him to help Mary Wollstonecraft out of some
difficulties, and after the marriage, he again wrote thus;
W. Godwinz to T. TIedgwood, Esq.
"NO. 7 EVESHAM BUILDINGS, SOMERS TOWN,
Ap4ri I 9th, I797.
"....You have by this time heard from B. Montague of my
marriage. This was the solution of my late application to you,
which I promised speedily to communicate.  Some persons
have found- an inconsistency between my practice in this instance
and my doctrines. But I cannot see it. The doctrine of my
'Political Justice' is, that an attachment in some degree permanent,
between two persons of opposite sexes is right, but that marriage,
as practised in European countries, is wrong. I still adhere to that
opinion. Nothing but a regard for the happiness of the individual,
which I had no right to injure, could have induced me to submit
to an institution which I wish to see abolished, and which I would
recommend to my fellow-men, never to practise, but with the
greatest caution. Having done what I thought necessary for the
peace and respectability of the individual, I hold myself no otherwise bound than I was before the ceremony took place.
" It is possible however that you will not see the subject in the
same light, and I perhaps went too far, when I presumed to suppose that if you were acquainted with the nature of the case you
would find it to be such as to make the interference I requested
of you appear reasonable. I trust you will not accuse me of
duplicity in having told you that it was not for myself that I
wanted your assistance, You will perceive that that remark was
in reference to the seeming inconsistency between my habits of
economy and independence and the application in question.




236


WILLIAMG GOD WILV.


"I can see no reason to doubt that as we are both successful
authors, we shall be able by our literary exertions, though with no
other fortune, to maintain ourselves either separately, or which is
more desirable jointly. The loan I requested of you was rendered necessary by some complication in her pecuniary affairs, the
consequence of her former connection, the particulars of which
you have probably heard. Now that we have entered into a new
mode of living, which will probably be permanent, I find a further
supply of fifty pounds will be necessary to enable us to start fair.
This you shall afford us, if you feel perfectly assured of its propriety, but if there be the smallest doubt in your mind, I shall be
much more gratified by your obeying that doubt, than superseding
it. I do not at present feel inclined to remain long in any man's
debt, not even in yours. As to the not having published our
marriage at first, I yielded in that to her feelings. Having settled
the principal point in conformity to her interest, I felt inclined to
leave all inferior matters to her disposal.
"W. GODWIN."
"We do not entirely cohabit."
Godwin wrote to his mother at once that she might be,
as was right, among the first people informed about his
marriage.  But the fact of Fanny's existence and other
details were probably supplied by Miss Godwin. The old
lady took time to answer the communication.
Mrs Godwin, Sen., to W. Godwin.
[WOOD DALLING, NORFOLK,]
"3rd May, 1797.
"DEAR WM.-What you say respecting your dear cousin's
deth is very consolitory and a just remark. It was rather the
pleasure of knowing she was a live than use we could be of to
each other, and upon reflection mater of thankfulness on her
account, as the change to her is so far superior to the infirm body
she carried about, only this that her letters were always incourag



A MO THER'S CONGRA TULA TIONS.


237


ing me to go on trusting in the Lord that had been so gratious to
me hitherto, and would not forsake any that reverance his name.
Thus did we incourage and comfort one another with passages
out of scripture that never failing word. When lover and friend
forsake us then the Lord will take us up; this is the friend that
sticketh closer than a brother, and though we should lose all other
friends, the unchangable god liveth, for of his years there is no
end, blessed for ever be his name.
" Your broken resolution in regard to mattrimony incourages me
to hope that you will ere long embrace the Gospel, that sure word
of promise to all believers, and not only you, but your other half,
whose souls should be both one, as Watts says of his friend Gunston, the sooner the better. My dear Wm., the apoligy I have to
make for not answering yours is, Mrs G. was going to send a box
to H. soon, and was willing to save ye postage. You might have
been so good as told me a few more particulars about your conjugal state, as when you were married, as being a father as well as
a husband; hope you will fill up your place with propriety in both
relations; you are certainly transformed in a moral sense, why is
it impossable in a spiritual sense, which last will make you shine
with the radiance of the sun for ever. Mrs G. and, I may say, all
your friends and mine wish you happiness, and shall be glad to
see you and your wife in Norfolk, if I be spared. You must not
expect great exactness, as I have a young servant, and myself able
to do nothing at all. I hope you are good walkers, for I have no
horse, and have not entered my Cart, so can go nowhere but to
meeting with it. I have for many days had the cramp, I call it,
rather than ye Rhumatism. I can't put on my own stockens, and
am obliged to stand to eat my vituals, and get up and walk about
perhaps 40 times while I write this letter. I intend sending you
a few eggs with this in Hannah's box. Could send you a small
fether bed, would do for a servant, by wagon, if acceptable. If
you give me a direction, you may write by ye return of the box,
or Mr Jo. Godwin, whome, John says, intends coming into the
country in about a fortnight or three weeks, or by post for me at
Mr Munton's, shopkeeper, Foulsham, will cost but 7d., any other




238


3;WILLIAM GOD WTiV.


way 8d. Your poor sister H. is, I fear, a bad oeconemist, her
heart too generous for her comings in, and besides that she has
lost her good friend Mrs Hague. Many people think her character injured by Marshal, a married man, who, I suppose dines with
her on Sundays; is it not so? Do you commend her, tell me
freely, or advise her against it yourself? She will hear you sooner
than anybody else-faithful are the wounds of a friend. If a
righteous man smite me, it shall be a kindness; it's an exelent
oil that shall not break my head saith the wise man.
"'"My dears, whatever you do, do not make invitations and
entertainments, that was what hurt Jo. Live comfortable with
one another. The Hart of her husband safely trusts in her. I
cannot give you no better advice than out of Proverbs, the
Prophets, and New Testament. My best affections attend you
both.-From yr. Mother,                      A. GODWIN.
"I am informed Mr Harwood's mother is dead; that's all I
know. Your eggs will spoil soon if you don't pack them up in
sawdust, bran, or something of the kind, and turn them often..
'Tis pitty to pay carriage for them if they don't keep."
Mrs Shelley's note on the marriage of her father and
mother is as follows -
"At the beginning of this year [I797] Mr Godwin married
Mary Wollstonecraft. The precise date is not known; he does
not mention it in his journal, and the ceremony had taken place
some time before the marriage was declared. This secrecy partly
arose from a slight shiinking on Mr Godwin's part from avowing
that he had acted in contradiction to his theories. Such contradictions occur indeed every day, and are applauded.  But the
fervour and uncompromising tone assumed by the author of
'Political Justice' in promulgating his opinions made his followers
demand a rigid adherence to them in action, and to comply with
the ordinance of marriage was in the eyes of many among them
absolute apostacy. Yet, in fact, all Mr Godwin's inner and more
private feelings were contrary to the supposed gist of his doctrines.




MRS SHELLEY'S NOTES.


239


The former were all strongly enlisted on the side of female virtue,
and he would readily have proved, if questioned, that it was only
misapprehension of his doctrines that could lead any one to think
that he was opposed to marriage.
"Another cause for the secrecy at first maintained was the stern
law of poverty and necessity. My father narrowly circumscribed
both his receipts and disbursements. The maintenance of a
family had never been contemplated, and could not at once be
provided for. My mother, accustomed to a life of struggle and
poverty, was so beloved by her friends, that several, and Mr
Johnson in particular, had stood between her and any of the
annoyances and mortifications of debt. But this must cease
when she married. They both however looked on this sort of
struggle, in which they had been born, and had always lived, as a
very secondary matter, and after a short period of deliberation
they, in the month of April, declared the marriage which had
before been solemnized. The celebrity of both parties rendered
the event of importance in their own circle. It is too usual that
when a man marries he commences new habits under such a
totally new influence, and that he is lost to all his former friends.
Mr Godwin spent a portion of every day in society, and was
much beloved; his more intimate friends believed they should
suffer from the change. Two ladies shed tears when he announced
his marriage-Mrs Inchbald and Mrs Reveley. The former lady
seceded from his circle on this occasion, making worldly motives
her excuse. Mrs Reveley feared to lose a kind and constant
friend, but, becoming intimate with Mary Wollstonecraft, she
soon learnt to appreciate her virtues and to love her. She soon
found, as she told me in after days, that instead of losing one she
had secured two friends, unequalled, perhaps, in the world for
genius, single-heartedness, and nobleness of disposition, and a
cordial intercourse subsisted between them."
Mrs Inchbald's letter, acknowledging the receipt of the
communication, is very characteristic of a woman who, as
Godwin remarks, afterwards wished to "shuffle out" of a




240


WILLIAM GOD 'WIN.


difficulty. He did not choose to take the hint, and it
appears, both from his Diary and a later letter, that he and
his wife were present with Mrs Inchbald at the play on
the night in question, Wednesday, April I9th, and that
then Mrs Inchbald expressed her feelings freely to Mrs
Godwin.
Mrs Inchbald to William Godwin.
" April II, 797.
"I most sincerely wish you and Mrs Godwin joy. But, assured
that your joyfulness would obliterate from your memory every
trifling engagement, I have entreated another person to supply
your place, and perform your office in securing a box on Reynold's night. If I have done wrong, when you next marry, I will
act differently."
Godwin merely communicated the fact of the marriage
to Holcroft.  He knew that his friend would understand to
whom he was married. He received from him a very
different letter.
Thomas Holcroft to William Godwin and Mary
WoZllstonecraft Godwin.
"A4pril 6, 1797.
"From my very heart and soul I give you joy. I think you the
most extraordinary married pair in existence. May your happiness be as pure as I firmly persuade myself it must be. I hope
and expect to see you both, and very soon. If you show coldness,
or refuse me, you will do injustice to a heart which, since it has
really known you, never for a moment felt cold to you.
" I cannot be mistaken concerning the woman you have married. It is Mrs W. Your secrecy a little pains me. It tells me
you do not yet know me.                  T. HOLCROFT."
It will be seen that the above letters are not arranged
precisely in the order of their dates, but they appeared to




DOMESTIC CORRESPONDENCE.


241


fall in better with Mrs Shelley's note on the marriage than
earlier.
The mode of Godwin's married life having been described,
a selection from the notes which passed between the pair,
both immediately before the marriage and afterwards, to
and from the house in the Polygon and his lodgings in
Evesham Place, needs no further explanation. Some of them
have been taken out of their place in order of date, that the
series may be presented consecutively.
Mary Wollstonecraft to William Godwin.
" 7an. 5, 1797. Thursday morning.
"I was very glad that you were not with me last night, for I
could not rouse myself. To say the truth, I was unwell and out
of spirits; I am better to-day.
" I shall take a walk before dinner, and expect to see you this
evening, chez moi, about eight, if you have.no objection."
The Same to the Same.
C 7an. 12, 1797. Thursday morning.
" I am better this morning, but it snows so incessantly, that I
do not know how I shall be able to keep my appointment this
evening. What say you? But you have no petticoats to dangle
in the snow. Poor women-how they are beset with plagueswithin and without."
The Same to the Same.
" an. 13th, 1 797. Friday morning.
"I believe I ought to beg your pardon for talking at you last
night, though it was in sheer simplicity of heart, and I have been
asking myself why it so happened. Faith and troth, it was because there was nobody else worth attacking, or who could con-.


I.


Q




242


WILLIAM GOD WIN.


verse. C. had wearied me before you entered. But be assured,
when I find a man that has anything in him, I shall let my every
day dish alone.
"I send you the Emma" [Emma, or the Unfortunate Attachment A novel. London I773] for Mrs Inchbald, supposing you
have not altered your mind.
"Bring Holcroft's remarks with you, and Ben Johnson" [sicl.
The Same to the Same.
"Jan. 27, I797.
"I am not well this morning.  It is very tormenting to be
thus, neither sick nor well, especially as you scarcely imagine me
indisposed.
"Women are certainly great fools; but nature made them so.
I have not time or paper, else I could draw an inference, not
very illustrative of your chance-medley system. But I spare the
moth-like opinion; there is room enough in the world, &c."
The Same to the Same.
"Feb. 3, 1797. Friday Morning.
"Mrs Inchbald was gone into the City to dinner, so I had to
measure back my steps.
"To day I find myself better, and, as the weather is fine, mean
to call on Dr Fordyce. I shall leave home about two o'clock. I
tell you so, lest you should call after that hour. I do not think
of visiting you in my way, because I seem inclined to be industrious.
I believe I feel affectionate to you in proportion as I am in
spirits; still I must not dally with you, when I can do anything
else. There is a civil speech for you to chew."
The Same to the Same.
"Feb. 17, 1797.
"Did I not see you, friend Godwin, at the theatre last night?
I thought I met a smile, but you went out without looking round.
"We expect you at half-past four."  [She did see "friend
Godwin," for the Diary shows that he was there.]




DOMESTIC CORRESPONDENCE.


2+3


The Same to the Same.
"Feb. 22, 1797.
"Everina's cold is still so bad, that unless pique urges her, she
will not go out to-day. For to-morrow, I think I may venture to
promise. I will call, if possible, this morning. I know I must
come before half after one; but if you hear nothing more from
me, you had better come to my house this evening.
"Will you send the second volume of 'Caleb,' and pray lend
me a bit of Indian rubber. I have lost mine. Should you be
obliged to quit home before the hour I have mentioned, say.
You will not forget that we are to dine at four. I wish to be
exact, because I have promised to let Mary go and assist her
brother this afternoon. I have been tormented all this morning
by puss, who has had four or five fits. I could not conceive what
occasioned them, and took care that she should not be terrified.
But she flew up my chimney, and was so wild, that I thought it
right to have her drowned. Fanny imagines that she was sick,
and ran away."
Everina, who had been residing for some time with her
sister, but who was not in her sister's confidence as to her
relation with Godwin, now left London, to become governess
in the Wedgwood family, at Etruria.
The Same to the Same.
"Mar. IIth, 1797. Saturday Morning.
"I must dine to-day with Mrs Christie, and mean to return as
early as I can; they seldom dine before five.
" Should you call and find only books, have a little patience, and
I shall be with you.
"Do not give Fanny a cake to-day. I am afraid she staid too
long with you yesterday.
"You are to dine with me on Monday, remember; the salt beef
awaits your pleasure."




244


WILLIAM GOD IINV.


The Same to the Same.
"Mar. 17, I797. Friday forning.
"And so, you goose, you lost your supper-and deserved to lose
it, for not desiring Mary to give you some beef.
" There is a good boy, write me a review of Vaurien. I remember there is an absurd attack on a Methodist preacher, because he
denied the Eternity of future punishments.
"I should be glad to have the Italian, were it possible, this
week, because I promised to let Johnson have it this week."
William Godwin to Mary Wollstonecraft.
[Between March 17 and 29, 1797.]
"I will have the honour to dine with you. You ask me whether
I think I can get four orders. I do not know, but I do not think
the thing impossible. How do you do?"
The Same to the Same.
"Marlch 29, [after the Wedding.]
"I must write, though it will not be long till five. I shall,
however, reserve all I have to say. Non je ne veux pas etre fache
quant au passe. Au revoir."
Mary Wollstonecraft Godwina to William Godwin.
"March 3I, 1797. Friday.
"I return you the volumes; will you get me the rest? I have
not, perhaps, given it as careful a reading as some of the sentiments
deserve.
"Pray send me by Mary for my luncheon a part of the supper
you announced to me last night, as I am to be a partaker of your
worldly goods, you know!"




DOMESTIC CORRESPONDENCE.


245


The Same to the Same.
"Saturday, April 8, 1797.
"I have just thought that it would be very pretty in you to call
on Johnson to-day. It would spare me some awkwardness, and
please him; and I want you to visit him often of a Tuesday.
This is quite disinterested, as I shall never be of the party. Do,
you would oblige me. But when I press anything, it is always
with a true wifish submission to your judgment and inclination.
Remember to leave the key of No. 25 with us, on account of the
wine."
The Same to the Same.
" April IIt//, 1797.
"I am not well to-day; my spirits have been harassed. Mary
will tell you about the state of the sink, &c. Do you know you
plague me-a little-bynot speakingmore determinatelyto the landlord, of whom I have a mean opinion. He tires me by his pitiful way
of doing everything. I like a man who will say yes or no at once."
The Same to the Same.
"April Itlh, 1797.
" I wish you would desire Mr Marshal to call on me. Mr
Johnson or somebody has always taken the disagreeable business
of settling with tradespeople off my hands. I am perhaps as
unfit as yourself to do it, and my time appears to me as valuable
as that of other persons accustomed to employ themselves.
Things of this kind are easily settled with money I know; but I
am tormented by the want of money, and feel, to say the truth, as
if I was not treated with respect, owing to your desire not to be
disturbed."
William Godwin to Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin.
" April 20th, [1797.]
" I am pained by the recollection of our conversation last night.
The sole principle of conduct of which I am conscious in my




246


WILLIAM GODWIN.


behaviour to you, has been in everything to study your happiness. I found a wounded heart, and as that heart cast itself on
me, it was my ambition to heal it. Do not let me be wholly
disappointed.
" Let me have the relief of seeing you this morning. If I do
not call before you go out, call on me."
Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin to William Godwin.
"April 20th, 1797.
"Fanny is delighted with the thought of dining with you. But
I wish you to eat your meat first, and let her come up with the
pudding. I shall probably knock at your door in my way to
Opie's; but should I not find you, let me request you not to be
too late this evening.  Do not give Fanny butter with her
pudding               -         -
The Same to the Same.
" Saturday norning, MAay 2lIst, 1797.... Montagu 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 knew, 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.




A SUMMER TOUR.


247


It does not appear how this knotty point was settled,
but Godwin was not long afterwards a companion of Mr
Basil Montagu on a somewhat longer excursion, extending
over more than a fortnight. The friends hired a one horse
carriage, and made a tour into Staffordshire, taking journeys
which speak well for the quality of the animal they drove.
An abridgement of Godwin's diary will throw light on the
correspondence with his wife during the tour.
"-7une 3, Sa.-Tour w. Montagu: sleep at Beaconsfield.,, 4, Su.-Wycombe: breakfast at Tetsworth: dine at Horseman's, Oxford, w. Porter, Mossop, and 3 Swans:
Woodstock: sleep at Chapel House.,, 5, AM.-Shipston: Welsburn: breakfast at Morley's, Hampton Lucy, w. C. Parr; dine at Boot's, Atherston
nr. Stratford, w. Parr, Morley, Bradley, and
Philips: Henley: sleep at Hochley House.,,  6, TZ.-Breakfast at Birmingham: Walsal: dine at Caunoc:
Stafford: tea, Stone: sup at Etruria, w. Br. Allen
and ladies.,, 7, --   Hobbes's 'Human Nature' p. 14. Dine at Mrs
Wedgwood's, w. Miss Ja. Willet: ride to Chesterton w. Montagu.,, 8, Th.-Hobbes, p. 26. View the Pottery: Theatre, Stobe,
'School for Scandal' and 'Catherine.'        /!   '9, F.-Hobbes, p. 32, fin. Navigate the Tunnel: ladies  d'
dine.,, io, Sa. —'Life of Hobbse' pp. 20. Ladies dine: ride to
Newcastle and Burslem w. Montagu.,, II, Sz.-'Leviathan' p. I4: 'Logique par Condillac,' p. 30:
Bailly, 'Sur les Sciences,' p. 50:  Ride to
Trentham w. J. &-T. Wedgwoods and Montagu.,, 2, lM.-' Leviathan,' p. 24, (chap. 6.): Bailly, p. 76.
Dine at Mrs Wedgwood's w. Miss Willet
junior.




248


WILLIAM GOD WIN.


"7ne I3, Tu.-Breakfast at Uttoxeter: dine at Derby; call on
Mrs Darwin: sleep at Burton-upon-Trent.,, I4, W.-Elford, walk w. Bage: dine at Tamworth: Bage
calls: sup at Bage's w. Davis.,, 5, Th.-Coleshil: breakfast at George in Tree: dine at
Hatton w. Wynns: walk to Kennilworth w.
Montagu.,, 6, F.-Guy's Cliff: Coventry Fair: dine at Dunchurch:
Daventry: sleep at Northampton.,, 7, Sa.-Wellingborough: breakfast at Thrapston: dine at
Mr Robt. Montagu's, Brampton: tea, Holworthy's w. Miss Wants.,, 18, Su.-Breakfast and dine at Mrs Montagu's: see
Hinchinbrooke House: Huntingdon: sup at
Jones's, Cambridge, w. Woodhouse.,, I9, RI.-Breakfast at Otter's: dine at Gunnings Ichleton:
sleep at Sawbridgeworth.,, 20, Tu.-Breakfast on Epping Forest: Polygon; Fenwick
calls: A. Pinkerton at tea.
The letters which follow give the journey in detail.
William Godwin to Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin.
"STRATFORD-UPON-AVON, yune 5, 1797.
" I write at this moment from Hampton Lucy, in sight of the
house and park of Sir Thomas Lucy, the great benefactor of mankind, who persecuted William Shakespeare for deer-stealing, and
obliged him to take refuge in the metropolis. Montagu has just
had a vomit, to carry off a certain quantity of punch, with the
drinking of which he concluded the Sunday evening.
"Is that the right style for a letter?
"We are going to dine to-day at the house of Mr Boot, a
country farmer, with Dr Parr and a set of jolly fellows, to commemorate the victory, or rather no-victory gained last week by the
High Sheriff of Warwick and the oppositionists over the Lord




A SUNA'DA Y AT OXFORD.


249


Lieutenant and the ministerialist, on the matter of the dismission
of Mr Pitt and his coadjutors. We sleep to-night at Dr Parr's,
60 miles from Etruria, at which place therefore we probably
shall not arrive till Wednesday.  Our horse has turned out
admirably, and we were as gay as larks. We were almost drowned
this morning in a brook, swelled by the rains. We are here at the
house of a Mr Morley, a clergyman, with whom we breakfasted
after a ride of 22 miles. He is an excellent classic, and, which
is almost as good, a clever and amiable man. Here we met
Catherine Parr, the youngest, as blooming as Hebe, and more
interesting than all the goddesses in the Pantheon. Montagu is
in love with her.
"We slept the first night at Beaconsfield, the residence of Mr
Burke, 23 miles. The town was full of soldiers. We rose the
next morning, as well as to-day, a little after four. We drove
about 20 miles to breakfast, and arrived at Oxford, 53 miles from
town, about 12. Here we had a grand dinner prepared for us by
letter, by a Mr Horseman, who says that you and I are the two
greatest men in the world. He is very nervous, and thinks he
never had a day's health in his life. He intends to return the
visit, and eat a good dinner in the Paragon, but he will find himself mistaken. -We saw the buildings, an object that never impressed me with rapture, but we could not see the collection of
paintings at Ch. Ch. Library, because it was Sunday. We saw
however an altar-piece by Guido, Christ bearing the Cross, a
picture I think of the highest excellence. Our escort, one of
whom thinks himself an artist, were so ignorant as to tell us that a
window to which we were introduced, painted by Jervas (as they
said), from Reynolds, was infinitely superior. We had also a Mr
Swan and his two wives, or sisters, to dinner, but they were no
better than geese.
"And now, my dear love, what do you think of me? Do you
not find solitude infinitely superior to the company of a husband? Will you give me leave to return to you again when I
have finished my pilgrimage, and discharged the penance of
absence? Take care of yourself, my love, and take care of Wil



-250


WILLIAM GODWIN.


liam. Do not you be drowned, whatever I am. I remember at
every moment all the accidents to which your condition subjects
you, and wish I knew of some sympathy that could inform me
from moment to moment how you do, and what you feel.
" Tell Fanny something about me. Ask where she thinks I am.
Say I am a great way, and going further and further, but that I
shall turn round to come back again some day. Tell her I have
not forgotten her little mug, and that I shall choose a very pretty
one. Montagu said this morning about eight o'clock, upon the
road, ' Just now little Fanny is going to plungity-plunge.' Was he
right? I love him very much. He is in such a hurry to see his
chere adorable, that I believe, after all, we shall set forward this
evening and get to Etruria to-morrow.
" Farewell."
[End torn off.]
Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin to William Godwin.
"Tuesday, 7une 6th.
" It was so kind and considerate in you to write sooner than I
expected, that I cannot help hoping you would be disappointed at
not receiving a greeting from me on your arrival at Etruria. If
your heart was in your mouth, as I felt, just now, at the sight of
your hand, you may kiss or shake hands with the letter, and imagine with what affection it was written. If not, stand off, profane
one!
" I was not quite well the day after you left me; but it is past,
and I am well and tranquil, excepting the disturbance produced
by Master William's joy, who took it into his head to frisk a little
at being informed of your remembrance. I begin to love this little
creature, and to anticipate his birth as a fresh twist to a knot which
I do not wish to untie. Men are spoilt by frankness, I believe,
yet I must tell you that I love you better than I supposed I did,
when I promised to love you for ever. And I will add what will
gratify your benevolence, if not your heart, that on the whole I
may be termed happy. You are a kind, affectionate creature,




A LETTER FROM HOME.


25 1


and I feel it thrilling through my frame, giving and promising
pleasure.
" Fanny wanted to know ' what you are gone for,' and endeavours to pronounce Etruria. Poor papa is her word of kindness.
She has been turning your letter on all sides, and has promised to
play with Bobby till I have finished my answer.
" I find you can write the kind of letter a friend ought to write,
and give an account of your movements. I hailed the sunshine
and moonlight, and travelled with you, scenting the fragrant gale.
Enable me still to be your company, and I will allow you to peep
over my shoulder, and see me under the shade of my green blind,
thinking of you, and all I am to hear and feel when you return.
You may read my heart, if you will.
"I have no information to give in return for yours. Holcroft
is to dine with me on Saturday. So do not forget us when you
drink your solitary glass, for nobody drinks wine at Etruria, I take
it. Tell me what you think of Everina's behaviour and situation,
and treat her with as much kindness as you can-that is, a little
more than her manner will probably call forth-and I will repay
you.
" I am not fatigued with solitude, yet I have not relished my
solitary dinner. A husband is a convenient part of the furniture
of a house, unless he be a clumsy fixture. I wish you, from my
soul, to be rivetted in my heart; but I do not desire to have you
always at my elbow, although at this moment I should not care if
you were. Yours truly and tenderly,             MARY.
" Fanny forgets not the mug.
" Miss Pinkerton seems content. I was amused by a letter she
wrote home. She has more in her than comes out of her mouth.
My dinner is ready, and it is washing-day. I am putting everything in order for your return. Adieu 1"
William Godwin to Mary Wolistonecraft Godwin.
"ETRURIA, une 7, 1797.
"More adventures. There are scenes, Sterne says, that only a
sentimental traveller is born to be present at. I sealed my last




252


2WILLIAM GODIWIN


letter at Hampton Lucy, and set off for Mr Boot's, farmer at
Atherston, where I expected to meet Dr Parr to dinner. Our
way lay through Stratford-upon-Avon, where, after having paid
our respects to the house, now inhabited by a butcher, in which
Shakespeare is said to have been born, I put your letter in the
post.
"But before we entered Stratford we overtook Dr Parr. After
a very cordial salutation, he told us that we saw him in the deepest
affliction, and forbad our visit at present to his house, though he
pressed us to wait upon him upon our return from Etruria. He,
however, went on with us upon his trot to the dinner at Atherston.
His affliction was for the elopement of his daughter with a Mr
Wynn, a young man of eighteen, a pupil of the Doctor's, son to a
member of Parliament, and who will probably inherit a considerable fortune. They set off for Gretna Green on the night of
Sunday the 4th. To do the Doctor justice, though in the deepest
affliction, he was not inconsolable. He had said to the young
man the Friday before: Sir, it is necessary we should come to an
issue.  You must either quit my house, or relinquish your
addresses to Miss Parr; if, after having ceased to live with me,
you choose to continue your addresses, I shall have no objection
to you; but I will have no Gretna Green work. I allow you till
Monday to give in your answer. I cannot help, however, believing that the Doctor is not very inconsolable for the match. What do
you think of it? I certainly regard Miss Parr as a seducer, and
have scarcely any doubt that the young man will repent, and that
they will be unhappy. It was her, and her mother's maxim that
the wisest thing a young woman of sense could do was to marry a
fool, and they illustrated their maxim from their domestic scene.
Miss Parr has now, it seems, got her fool, and will therefore learn
by experiment the justice of her maxim.
"I expected to have been rallied by the Doctor upon my
marriage. He was in high spirits, but abstained from the subject.
I at length reminded him of his message by the Wedgwoods. I
mentioned it with the utmost humour, but desired an explanation,
as I was really incapable of understanding it. He appeared con



MISS PARR'S.MARRIAGE.


253


fused, said he had been in high good humour the evening he
supped with the Wedgwoods, and had talked away at a great
rate. He could not exactly say how he had expressed himself,
but was sure he did not use the word mean. We had a good deal
of raillery. I told him that he understood everything except my
system of 'Political Justice;' and he replied that was exactly the
case with me. Montagu afterwards told me that Dr Parr had
formerly assured him that I was more skilful in moral science
than any man now living. I am not, however, absolutely sure of
the accuracy of Montagu's comprehension.
"We left the Doctor at the farmer's house, and came on
on Monday evening to within ten miles of Birmingham and fifty
miles of Etruria. (I forgot to say in the right place that Miss Parr
vowed, upon hearing of my expedition, that she would give me
the most complete roasting she ever gave to any man in her life,
upon my marriage. She, however, has got her husband, and
I have probably lost my roasting. Though I think it not improbable that we shall find Mr and Mrs Wynn at Dr Parr's on our
return.)
"Every night we have ceased to travel at eleven; every morning we have risen at four, so that you see we have not been idle.
We breakfasted on Tuesday at Birmingham, where we spent two
hours, surveyed the town, and saw the ruins of two large houses,
which had been demolished in the Birmingham riots. I amused
myself with enquiring the meaning of a handbill respecting a waxwork exhibition, containing, among others, lively and accurate
likenesses of the Prince and Princess of Wirtemberg, and Poet
Fruth. As I had never heard of Poet Fruth, my curiosity was
excited. We found that he was an ale-house keeper of Birmingham, the author of a considerable number of democratical
squibs. If we return by Birmingham, I promise myself to pay
him a visit.
"From Birmingham, we passed through Walsall, a large and handsome town of this county, 8 miles. We went forward, however, and
came at I2 o'clock to Cannock, a pretty little town. Here we
proposed to give our horse some water, and a mouthful of corn.




2 54


WILLIAM GODWIN.


Montagu had repeatedly regretted the hardship imposed upon the
horse of eating his hay with a large bit of iron in his mouth, and
here, therefore, he thought proper to take off his bridle at the inn
door. The horse, finding himself at liberty, immediately pranced
off, overturned the chaise, dashed it against a post, and broke it in
twenty places. It was a formidable sight, and the horse was with
great difficulty stopped. We, however, are philosophers, so, after
having amused ourselves for some time with laughing at our misadventure, we sent for a smith to splinter our carriage. By two
we had eaten our dinner, the chaise was hammered together.
We paid the smith his demand of 2s., and bid adieu to Cannock,
the scene of this memorable adventure.
"Our next town was Stafford, which I viewed with unfeigned
complacence, as having had the honour of being represented in
four successive Parliaments by Richard Sheridan. We did not,
however, stop here (8 miles), but proceeded to Stone (7 more),
and nine short of Etruria. Here we took tea, and here I wrote
the first i8 lines of this letter. You cannot imagine the state of
intoxication of poor Montagu as he approached the place of our
destination. It was little less than madness, but the most kindhearted madness imaginable. He confessed to me that he had
set out from London in extreme ill-humour, from preceding
fatigue, and from doubts of the capacity of the horse to perform
the journey, in which, however, he was agreeably disappointed.
He added that it was infinitely the most delightful journey he had
ever made.
" We reached Etruria without further accident, a little after eight.
Our reception appears to be cordial. Farewell, my love. I think
of you with tenderness, and shall see you again with redoubled
kindness (if you will let me) for this short absence. Kiss Fanny
for me, remember William, but, most of all, take care of yourself.
Tell Fanny I am safely arrived in the land of mugs.
"Your sister would not come down to see me last night at
supper, but we met at breakfast this morning. I have nothing to
say about her."




ETRURIA.


255


William Godwin to MIary Wollstonecraft Godiwin.
"ETRURIA, June 10, x797.
"You cannot imagine how happy your letter made me. No
creature expresses, because no creature feels, the tender affections
so perfectly as you do; and, after all one's philosophy, it must be
confessed that the knowledge that there is some one that takes an
interest in one's happiness, something like that which each man
feels in his own, is extremely gratifying.  We love, as it were,
to multiply the consciousness of our existence, even at the
hazard of what Montagu described so pathetically one night
upon the New Road, of opening new avenues for pain and misery
to attack us.
" We arrived, as you are already informed, at Etruria on Tuesday afternoon. Wednesday I finished my second letter to you,
which was exchanged that evening for your letter, written the preceding day. This is the mode of carrying on correspondence at
Etruria: the messenger who brings the letters from Newcastleunder-Lyne, two miles, carries away the letters you have already
written. In case of emergency, however, you can answer letters
by return of post, and send them an hour after the messenger,
time enough for the mail.
" I wrote last Wednesday a letter which of course you were to
receive this morning. It is probable that you are now reading it:
it is between twelve and one. I hope it finds you in health and
spirits. I hope you hail the handwriting on the direction, though
not probably with the surprise which, it seems, the arrival of my
first letter produced. You are now reading my adventures: the
elopement of Mrs Wynn, the little, good-humoured sparring between me and Dr Parr, and the tremendous accident of Cannock.
These circumstances are presenting themselves with all the grace
of novelty. I am, at the same time, reading your letter, I believe
for the fourth time, which loses not one grace by the repetition.
Well, fold it up; give Fanny the kiss I sent her, and tell her, as
I desired you, that I am in the land of mugs. You wish, it may
be, that my message had been better adapted to her capacity, but




:!56


WILLIA M GOD WIIN.


I think it better as it is; I hope you do not disdain the task of
being its commentator.
" One of the pleasures I promised myself in my excursion, was
to increase my value in your estimation, and I am not disappointed.  What we possess without intermission we inevitably
hold light; it is a refinement, in voluptuousness to submit to
voluntary privations. Separation is the image of death, but it is
Death stripped of all that is most tremendous, and his dart purged
of its deadly venom. I always thought St Paul's rule, that we
should die daily, an exquisite Epicurean maxim. The practice of
it would give to life a double relish.
"Yesterday we dined at Mrs Wedgwood's the elder, Everina
was not of the party. They sat incessantly from three to eleven
P.M. This does not suit my propensities; I was obliged to have
a ride in the whiskey at five, and a walk at half after eight.
" Montagu's flame is the youngest of the family. She is certainly the best of the two unmarried daughters; but, I am afraid,
not good enough for him. She is considerably fat, with a countenance rather animated, and a glimpse of Mrs Robinson. Perhaps
you know that I am a little sheepish, particularly with stranger
ladies. Our party is numerous, and I have had no conversation
with her. I look upon any of my friends going to be married
with something of the same feeling as I should do if they were
sentenced to hard labour in the Spielberg. The despot may die,
and the new despot grace his accession with a general jail delivery;
that is almost the only hope for the unfortunate captive.
" To-day we went over Mr Wedgvood's manufactory. Everina
accompanied us, and Mr Baugh Allen-no other lady.   For
Everina, she was in high spirits. She had never seen the manufactory before. The object of my attention was rather the countenances of the workpeople, than the wares they produced....
"Tell Fanny we have chosen a mug for her, and another for
Lucas. There is a F on hers, and an L on his, shaped in an
island of flowers, of green and orange tawny alternately. With
respect to their beauty, you will set it forth with such eloquence as
your imagination can supply.




OPINION OF IISS PARR'S MARRIAGE.


257


" We are going this evening, the whole family included, to see
the 'School for Scandal,' represented by a company of strollers at
Newcastle-under-Lyne.... Your William (do you know me by
that name?) salutes the trio, M., F., and last and least (in stature
at least), little W."
Mary Wollstonecraft Godzwin to William Godwin.
"Saturday, half after one o'clock.
"Your letter of Wednesday I did not receive till just now, and
I have only half an hour to express the kind emotions which are
clustering about my heart, or my letter will have no chance of
reaching General Tarleton's to-day, and to-morrow being Sunday,
two posts would be lost. My last letter of course you did not
get, although I reckoned   on its reaching you Wednesday
morning.
"I read, T[homas] W[edgwood]'s letter. I.thought it would
be affectation not to open it, as I knew the hand. It did not
quite please me. He appears to me to be half spoilt by living
with his inferiors in point of understanding, and to expect that
homage to be paid to his abilities which the world will readily pay
to his fortune. I am afraid that all men are materially injured by
inheriting wealth, and, without knowing it, become important in
their own eyes, in consequence of an advantage they contemn.
"I am not much surprised at Miss Parr's conduct. You may
remember that I did not give her credit for as much sensibility
(at least the sensibility which is the mother of sentiment and delicacy of mind) as you did, and her conduct confirms my opinion.
Could a woman of delicacy seduce and marry a fool? She will
be unhappy, unless a situation in life, and a good table to prattle
at, are sufficient to fill up the void of affection. This ignoble
mode of rising in the world is the consequence of the present
system of female education.
"I have little to tell you of myself. I am very well. Mrs
Reveley drank tea with me one morning, and I spent a day with
her, which would have been a very pleasant one, had I not been a


I.


R




258


WILLIAM GODWIN.


little too much fatigued by a previous visit to Mr Barry. Fanny
often talks of you, and made Mrs Reveley laugh by telling her,
when she could not find the monkey to show it to Henry, 'that it
was gone into the country.'  I supposed that Everina would
assume some airs at seeing you. She has very mistaken notions
of dignity of character.
" Pray tell me the precise time-I mean when it is fixed-I do
believe I shall be glad to see you!-of your return, and I will keep
a good look-out for you. William is all alive, and my appearance
no longer doubtful. You, I dare say, will perceive the difference.
What a fine thing it is to be a man!
"You were very good to write such a long letter. Adieu! take
care of yourself. Now I have ventured on you, I should not like
to lose you.                                     MARY."
William Godwin to Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin.
"ETRURIA (finished), 7une i2, 1797.
"Having dispatched one letter, I now begin another. You have
encouraged me to believe that some pleasure results to you, merely
from thus obtaining the power of accompanying my motions, and
that what would be uninteresting to another may, by this circumstance, be rendered agreeable to you. I am the less capable of
altering my method, if it ought to be altered, as you have not dealt
fairly by me this post. I delivered a letter of mine to the messenger, but I received none from him in return. I am beginning a
fourth letter, but of yours I have as yet only one.
" The theatre, which was at Stoke-upon-Trent, two miles from
Etruria, was inexpressibly miserable. The scene was new to me,
and I should have been sorry to have missed it; but it was extremely tedious. Our own company, consisting of nine persons,
contributed one-half of the audience, exclusive of the galleries. The
illusion, the fascination of the drama, was, as you may well suppose, altogether out of the question. It was the counterpart of a
puppet-show at a country fair, except that, from the circumstance
of these persons having to deliver the sentiments of Sheridan and




A PLA Y IN THE PRO VINCES.


259


Shakespeare (the School for Scandal and Catherine and Petruchio)
their own coarseness and ribaldry were rendered fifty times more
glaring and intolerable. Lady Teazle was by many degrees the
ugliest woman I ever saw. One man took the two parts of Crabtree and Moses. Another, without giving himself the trouble to
change his dress, played Careless and Sir Benjamin Backbite. The
father of Catherine had three servants; and when he came to the
country-house of Petruchio, he had precisely the same three servants to attend him. The gentleman who personated Charles in
the play was the Woman's tailor in the farce, and volunteered a
boxing-match with Sir Oliver Surface in the character of Grumio.
Snake, who was also footman-general to every person in the play,
had by some means contracted the habit of never appearing when
he was wanted, and the universal expedient for filling up the intervals, was for the persons on the stage to commence over again their
two or three last speeches till he appeared. But enough of these
mummers. Peace be to their memory. They did not leave us in
our debt: they paid the world in talent, to the full as well as they
were paid in coin.
" Which is best, to pass one's life in the natural vegetation state
of the potters we saw in the morning, turning a wheel, or treading
a lay: or to pass it like these players, in an occupation to which
skill and approbation can alone give a zest, without a hope of
rising to either?
" Saturday morning our amusement was to go to a place called
the Tunnel, a sort of underground navigation, about a mile and a
half, at a distance of three miles from Etruria. We went in a
small boat, which was drawn along by a horse. As we approached
the Tunnel, we saw a smoke proceeding from the mouth, which
gave it no inadequate resemblance of what the ancients feigned to
be the entrance to the infernal regions. We proceeded to about
the middle of the subterranean, the light that marked the place of
our entrance gradually diminishing, till, when we had made twothirds of our way, it wholly disappeared. The enclosure of the
Tunnel was by an arch of brick, which distilled upon us, as we
passed, drops of water impregnated with iron. We discerned our




2O0


WILLIAM GOD WIN.


way by means of candles that we brought along with us, and pushed
ourselves along with boat staves, applied to the walls on either side
as we passed. Our voyage terminated, as to its extent, in a coalpit, of which there are several in the subterranean. We had the
two elder children with us, who exhibited no signs of terror. I
remarked, in coming out, that the light from the entrance was
much longer visible in going than returning; and, indeed, in
the latter instance, was scarcely visible till it in a manner burst
upon us at once.
"The only ladies who accompanied us in this voyage was Mrs
Josiah Wedgwood and Mrs Montagu elect. Here, and at the play,
where I contrived to sit beside her, I contrived to see more of this
latter than I had yet done. I am sorry to observe that she does
not improve upon me.
"Another evening and no letter. This is scarcely kind. I reminded you in time that it would be impossible to write to me
after Saturday, though it is not improbable you may not see me
before the Saturday following. What am I to think? How many
possible accidents will the anxiety of affection present to one's
thoughts! Not serious ones, I hope: in that case I trust I should
have heard. But headaches; but sickness of the heart, a general
loathing of life and of me. Do not give place to this worst of
diseases! The least I can think is, that you recollect me with less
tenderness and impatience than I reflect on you. There is a
general sadness in the sky; the clouds are shutting around me,
and seem depressed with moisture: everything turns the soul to
melancholy. Guess what my feelings are, when the most soothing
and consolatory thought that occurs, is a temporary remission and
oblivion in your affections.
" I had scarcely finished the above when I received your letter,
accompanying T. W.'s, which was delayed by an accident till after
the regular arrival of the post. I am not sorry to have put down
my feelings as they were.
" We propose leaving Etruria at four o'clock to-morrow morning
(Tuesday). Our journey cannot take less than three days, viz.,
Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. We propose, however, a




DR DARW IN.


26I


visit to Dr Darwin, and a visit to Dr Parr. With these data from
which to reason, you may judge as easily as I, respecting the time
of our arrival in London. It will probably be either Friday or
Saturday. Do not, however, count on anything as certain respecting it, and so torment yourself with expectation.
"Tell Fanny the green monkey has not come to Etruria. Bid
her explain to Lucas the mug he is to receive. I hope it will not
be broken on the journey."
William Godwin to Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin.
"yune 15, 1797.
"We are now at The George in the Tree, Io miles north from
Wanvick. We set out from Etruria, as we purposed, at 5 A.M.,
Tuesday, June 13. We bent our course for Derby, being furnished
with a letter of introduction to Dr Darwin, and purposing to obtain
from him a further letter of introduction to Mr Bage, of Tamworth,
author of 'Man as He is,' and 'Hermsprong.' Did we not well?
Are not such men as much worth visiting as palaces, towns, and
cathedrals?  Our first stage was Uttoxeter, commonly called
Utchester, 19 miles. Here we breakfasted. Our. next stage was
Derby, where we arrived at two o'clock. At this place, though
sentimental travellers, we were for once unfortunate. Dr Darwin
was gone to Shrewsbury, and not expected back till Wednesday
night. At this moment I feel mortified at the recollection. We
concluded that this was longer than we could with propriety wait
for him. I believe we were wrong. So extraordinary a man, so
truly a phenomenon as we should probably have found him, I
think we ought not to have scrupled the sacrifice of 36 hours.
He is 67 years of age, though as young as Ganymede; and I
am so little of a traveller, that I fear I shall not again have the
opportunity I have parted with.  We paid our respects, however, to his wife, who is still a fine woman, and cannot be
more than 50. She is perfectly unembarrassed, and tolerably
well bred.  She seemed, however. to me to put an improper
construction on our visit, said she supposed we were come to




262


WILLIAM GODWIN.


see the lions, and that Dr Darwin was the great lion of Derbyshire. We asked of her a letter to Mr Bage; but she said she
could not do that with propriety, as she did not know whether
she had ever seen him, though he was the Doctor's very particular
friend.
"Thus baffled in our object, we plucked up our courage, and
determined to introduce ourselves to the author of ' Hermsprong.'
We were able to cite our introduction to Dr Darwin by the
Wedgwoods, and our intention of having procured a letter from
the Doctor. Accordingly we proceeded from Derby to Burtonupon-Trent, i6 miles. This is a very handsome town, with a wide
and long street, a beautiful river, and a bridge which Montagu
said was the longest he ever saw in the world. Here we slept,
and drank Burton ale at the spring, after a journey of 48 miles.
The next morning, between six and seven, we set out for Tamworth, I5 miles. At Elford, ii miles, we saw Mr Bage's mills,
and a house in which he lived for 40 years. His mills are for
paper and flour. Here we enquired respecting him, and found
that he had removed to Tamworth five years ago, upon the death
of his younger son, by which event he found his life rendered
solitary and melancholy. The people at the mill told us that he
came three times a-week, walking from Tamworth, to the mill,
four miles; that they expected him at eleven (it was now nine);
and that, if we proceeded, we should meet him upon the road.
They told us, as a guide, that he was a short man, with white
hair, snuff-coloured clothes, and a walking-stick. He is 67 years
old, exactly the same age as Dr Darwin. Accordingly, about a.
mile and a half from Tamworth, we met the man of whom we
were in quest, with a book in his hand. We introduced ourselves,
and, after a little conversation, I got out of the chaise, and walked
back with him to the mill. This six or seven miles was very
fortunate, and contributed greatly to our acquaintance. I found
him uncommonly -cheerful and placid, simple in his manners, and
youthful in all his carriage. His house at the mill was floored,
every room below-stairs, with brick, and like that of a common
farmer in all respects.  There was, however, the river at the




AfMR BA GE.


263


bottom of the garden, skirted with a quickset hedge, and a broad
green walk. He told me his history.
"His father was a miller, as well as himself, and he was born
at Derby. At twenty-two he removed to Elford. He had been
acquainted forty years with Dr Darwin. The other acquaintances
of his youth were Whitehurst, author of 'The Theory of the
Earth,' and some other eminent man, whose name I forget. He
taught himself French and Latin, in both of which languages he is
a considerable proficient. In his youth he was fond of poetry;
but, having some motive for the study of mathematics, he devoted
his three hours an afternoon (the portion of time he allotted for
reading) to this subject for twelve years, and this employment
destroyed the eagerness of his attachment to poetry.  In the
middle of life, he engaged in a joint-undertaking with Dr Darwin
and another person respecting some iron-works. This failed, and
he returned once more to his village and to his mill. The result
filled him with melancholy thoughts; and, to dissipate them, he
formed the idea of a novel, which he endeavoured to fill with gay
and cheerful ideas. At first he had no purpose of publishing
what he wrote. Since that time he has been. accustomed to produce a novel every two years, and 'Hermsprong' is his sixth. He
believes he should not have written novels, but for want of books
to assist him in any other literary undertaking. Living at Tamworth, he still retains his house at the mill, as the means of independence. It is his own, and he considers it as his security
against the caprice or despotism of a landlord, who might expel
him from Tamworth. He has thought much, and, like most of
those persons I have met with who have conquered many prejudices and read little metaphysics, is a materialist. His favourite
book on this point is the 'Systeme de la Nature.' We spent a
most delightful day in his company. When we met him, I had
taken no breakfast; and though we had set off from Burton that
morning at six, and I spent the whole morning in riding and walking, I felt no inconvenience on waiting for food till our dinner
time at two, I was so much interested with Mr Bage's conversation.
"I am obliged to finish this letter somewhat abruptly, at the




264


WILLIAM GOD WIN.


house of Dr Parr, where we arrived Thursday (yesterday) about
noon, and found Mr and Mrs Wynn, but not the Doctor, he
having thought proper to withdraw himself on their arrival. It is
most probable we shall be in town to-morrow evening, but may
possibly not arrive till Sunday.
"I should have added to the account of Mr Bage, that he never
was in London for more than a week at a time, and very seldom
more than 50 miles from his home. A very memorable instance,
in my opinion, of great intellectual refinement, attained in the
bosom of rusticity.
"Farewell. Salute William in my name. Perhaps you know
how.   Take care of yourself!-Tell Fanny that her mug and
Lucas's are hitherto quite safe. I hope I shall find that the green
monkey has resumed his old station by the time of my return."
[Villiam Godwin to gMary Wollstonecraft Godwin.
" une 17, 1797.
"You cannot imagine anything like Mr Wynn and his wife.
He is a raw country booby of eighteen, his hair about his ears, and
a beard that has never deigned to submit to the stroke of the
razor. His voice is loud, broad and unmodulated, the mind of
the possessor has never yet felt a sentiment that should give it
flexibleness or variety. He has at present a brother with him, a
lad, as I guess, of fifteen, who has come to Dr Parr's house at
Hatton, with a high generosity of sentiment, and a tone of mind,
declaring that, if his brother be disinherited, he, who is the next
brother, will not reap the benefit. His name is Julius, and John
Wynn, the husband, is also a lad of very good dispositions. They
both stammer: Julius extremely, John less: but with the stuttering
of Julius there is an ingenuousness and warmth that have considerable charms. John, on the contrary, has all the drawling,
loth of voice and thinking, that usually characterizes a clown.
His air is gazche, his gait negligent and slouching, his whole figure
boorish. Both the lads are as ignorant, and as destitute of adventure and ambition, as any children that aristocracy has to boast.




TKEIL PWORTITi CASTL E.


26S


Poor Sarah, the bride, is the victim of her mother, as the
bridegroom is her victim in turn. The mother taught her that
the height of female wisdom was to marry a rich man and a fool,
and she has religiously complied. Her mother is an admirable
woman, and the daughter mistook, and fancied she was worthy of
love. Never was a girl more attached to her mother than Sarah
Wynn (Parr). You do not know, but I do, that Sarah has an uncommon understanding, and an exquisite sensibility, which glows
in her complexion, and flashes from her eyes. Yet she is silly
enough to imagine that she shall be happy in love and a cottage,
with John Wynn.   She is excessively angry with the fathers
on both sides, who, as she says, after having promised the contrary, attempted clandestinely to separate them. They have each,
beyond question, laid up a magazine of unhappiness: yet I am
persuaded Dr Parr is silly enough to imagine the match a desirable one.
"We slept, as I told you, at Tamworth on Wednesday evening.
Thursday morning we proceeded through Coleshill (where I found
a permanent pillory established, in lieu of the stocks), and where
we passed through a very deep and rather formidable ford, the
bridge being under repair, and breakfasted at the George in the
Tree, 18 miles.  From  thence-the road by Warwick would
have been 14 miles, and by a cross-country road only six.
By this, therefore, we proceeded, and a very deep and rough road
we found it. We arrived at Hatton about one, so, after dinner,
thinking it too much to sit all day in the company I have described,
I proposed to Montagu a walk to Kenilworth Castle, the seat
originally of Simon De Montfort, Earl of Leicester, who in the
reign of Henry III., to whom he was an implacable enemy, was
the author of the institution of the House of Commons; and, more
recently, the seat of Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester —the favourite, and, as he hoped and designed, the husband of Elizabeth, to
whom he gave a most magnificent and memorable entertainment
at this place. The ruins are, beyond comparison, the finest in
England. I found Montagu by no means a desirable companion
in this expedition. He could, not be persuaded to indulge the




266


WILLIAM GOD WIN.


divine enthusiasm I felt coming on my soul, while I felt revived,
and, as it were, embodied, the image of ancient times: but on the
contrary, expressed nothing but indignation against the aristocracy
displayed, and joy that it was destroyed. From Dr Parr's to Kenilworth, across the fields, is only four miles. By the road, round by
Warwick, it is nine. We of course took the field way, but derived
but little benefit from it, as we were on foot from half after four to
half after ten, exclusive of a rest of ten minutes. One hour out of
the six we spent at Kenilworth, and two hours and a half in going
and returning respectively, so utterly incapable were we of finding
the path prescribed us.
"To-day, Friday, as fortune determined, was Coventry Fair,
with a procession of all the trades, with a female representative of
Lady Godiva at their head, dressed in a close dress to represent
nakedness. As fortune had thus disposed of us, we deemed it our
duty not to miss the opportunity. We accordingly set out after
breakfast, for Montagu proved lazy, and we did not get off till half
after eleven. From Dr Parr's to Warwick is four miles, from Warwick to Coventry ten miles. One mile on the Coventry side of
Warwick is Guy's Cliff, Mr Greathed's. My description of his
garden was an irresistible motive with Montagu to desire to visit
it, though I by no means desired it We accordingly went, and
walked round the garden. Mr Greathed was in his grounds, and
I left a card, signifying I had done myself the pleasure of paying
my respects to him, and taken the liberty of leading my friend over
his garden. This delay of half-an-hour precisely answered the
purpose of making us too late for Lady Godiva. We saw the
crowd, which was not yet dispersed, and the booths of the fair, but
the lady, the singularity of the scene, was retired.
"It is now Sunday evening: we are at Cambridge. Montagu
says we shall certainly be in town to-morrow (Monday) night. The
distance is fifty-three miles: we shall therefore probably be late,
and he requests that, if we be not at home before ten, you will
retain somebody to take the whiskey from Somers Town to Lincoln's Inn. If Mary be at a loss on the subject, perhaps the people
of Montagu's lodging can assist her.




TRANSIENT ILL-HUMOHUR.


267


" Farewell: be happy: be in health and spirits. Keep a lookout, but not an anxious one. Delays are not necessarily tragical.
I believe there will be none."
MIary Wollstonecraft Godwin to William Godwin.
" rune 19. Monday, almost 12 o'clock.
" One of the pleasures you tell me that you promised yourself
from your journey was the effect your absence might produce on
me. Certainly at first my affection was increased, or rather was
more alive. But now it is just the contrary. Your later letters
might have been addressed to anybody, and will serve to remind
you where you have been, though they resemble nothing less than
mementos of affection.
"I wrote to you to Dr Parr's; you take no notice of my letter.
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, and new objects, and the homage of vulgar minds restored
you to your icy philosophy.
You tell ime that your journey could not take less than three days,
therefore, as you were to visit Dr D[arwin] and Dr PLarr], Saturday was the probable day. You saw neither, yet you have been a
week on the road. I did not wonder, but approved of your visit
to Mr Bage. But a show which you waited to see, and did not see,
appears to have been equally attractive. I am at a loss to guess
how you could have been from Saturday to Sunday night travelling from Coventry to Cambridge. 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. I am afraid to add what I feel. Goodnight."
Two more notes which follow show that the cordial affection which subsisted between the married pair was not
seriously affected by this little outburst.




268


WILLIAM4 GOD [WIN.


The Same to the Same.
"7une-25, I797.
"I know that you do not like me to go to Holcroft's. I think
you right in the principle, but a little wrong in the present
application.
" When I lived alone, I always dined on a Sunday with company, in the evening, if not at dinner, at St P[aul's, with Johnson],
generally also of a Tuesday, and some other day at Fuseli's.
"I like to see new faces as a study, and since my return from
Norway, or rather since I have accepted of invitations, I have
dined every third Sunday at Twiss's, nay oftener, for they sent for
me when they had any extraordinary company. I was glad to go,
because my lodging was noisy of a Sunday, and Mr S.'s house and
spirits were so altered, that my visits depressed him, instead of
exhilarating me.
" I am then, you perceive, thrown out of my track, and have
not traced another. But so far from wishing to obtrude on yours,
I had written to Mrs Jackson, and mentioned Sunday, and am
now sorry that I did not fix on to-day as one of the days for sitting
for my picture.
" To Mr Johnson I would go without ceremony, but it is not
convenient for me at present to make haphazard visits.
"Should Carlisle chance to call on you this morning, send him
to me; but by himself, forhe often has a companion with him,
which would defeat my purpose." '
The- Same to the Same.
" Monday morning, Yuly 3d, 1797.
"Mrs Reveley can have no doubt about to-day, so we are to
stay at home. I have a design upon you this evening to keep
you quite to myself-I hope nobody will call!-and make you
read the play.
"I was thinking of a favourite song of my poor friend Fanny's:
In a vacant rainy day, you shall be wholly mine,' &c.
"Unless the weather prevents you from taking your accustomed




NERWS FROMI NORFOLK.


269


walk, call on me this morning, for I have something to say to
you.,
Holcroft's intimacy with Godwin by no means grew less
because his friend was married. The following letter from
him when visiting some friends in Norfolk gives a pleasant
picture of Mrs Godwin, senior, and of the eagerness which
the good old lady really felt to see her distinguished son:Thomas Holcroft to William Godwin.
" WOOD NORTON, 71ly 26, 1797.
"It was my intention to write, for I feel a kind of vacuity of
heart when I am deprived of the intercourse of my accustomed
friends. But as I cannot write to them all, and as we have many
friends in common, I think there are few whom you may not
safely assure on my part that they have their turn in my thoughts.
I deferred this pleasant duty however till I had seen your mother,
whom I thought it right and respectful to visit. My coming
occasioned some little alarm. The Major, Mrs Harwood, and
Fanny accompanied me. WVe were seen from the windows as
we came up to the gate. I had my spectacles on, and your
sister-in-law ran to inform your mother that yourself and Mrs
Godxvin were arrived. The old lady stood in the portico; the
young ones advanced. There was an anxious curiosity in their
countenances, and your sister, addressing herself to me, said, 'I
think I know you, sir.' I scarcely knew what to reply. Imagination had winged her and myself to London, where I supposed
that some years ago I might have seen her at your lodgings,
taking it for granted that she was a relation. But as I did not
answer, Major Harwood relieved our embarrassment by announcing my name. The change of countenance that took place was
visible, for though your sister could not perhaps have fully persuaded herself that my face was actually yours, yet she seemed
rather to trust to her hopes than to her recollection; and these
being disappointed, an immediate blank took possession of her




270


'WILLIAM GODWIN.


features, and the rising joy was damped. Your mother, however,
very kindly invited us in, and gave us all the good things she had
that could administer to our immediate pleasures. The expectations which Major H. had raised by his description of your mother
was not entirely answered. She was neither so alert, so commanding, nor so animated as he and Anne had described; but as
they both are apt to deal in the superlative, I make some deductions from their previous description and after remarks, according
to which she is very rapidly on the decline. Having quitted her
farming business, I have no doubt myself but that her faculties
will be impaired much faster than they would have been had she
continued to exert them; yet I strongly doubt of the very rapid
decline which the Major supposes. Her memory is good, her
conceptions, speaking comparatively, are clear, and her strength
considerable.
"I have seen more of the County of Norfolk than of its inhabitants; of which county I remark that to the best of my recollection it contains more flint, more turkies, more turnips, more wheat,
more cultivation, more commons, more cross-roads, and, from that
token, probably more inhabitants, than any county I ever visited.
It has another distinguishing and paradoxical feature, if what I
hear be true. It is said to be more illiterate than other parts of
England, and yet I doubt if any county of like extent have produced an equal number of famous men. This, however, is merely
a conjecture, made not from examination, but from memory.
"As it is necessary for me to bathe, I shall immediately depart
for Yarmouth, and pass through Norwich, which I have not
yet seen. If you or Mrs Godwin, or both, can but prevail on
yourself or selves to endure the fatigue of writing to me, I hope I
need not use many words to convince you of the pleasure it will
give me. And be it understood that this letter is addressed to
you both, whatever the direction on the back may affirm to the
contrary.  Professions are almost impertinent, and yet I am
almost tempted to profess to you how sincerely and seriously I
am interested in your happiness. But as I am sure my words
would ill describe my thoughts, I shall forbear. Pray inform me,




LETTER FROM HOLCROFT.                  271
sweet lady, in what state is your novel? And on what, courteous
sir, are you employed? Though I am idle myself, I cannot
endure that any one else should be so. Direct to me at the postoffice, Yarmouth. Pray do me the favour to call occasionally and
look into the house and library.
"T. HOLCROFT."




CHAPTER X.


MARY GOD 0      IN'S DEATH. I797.
MARY Godwin had been in remarkably good health during the whole period of her pregnancy. It will have been
seen in the correspondence that she consulted Dr Carlisle
during this time, but not for any serious indisposition. She
had no alarm or even uneasiness on the subject of her
approaching trial, since she had suffered but little.at the
birth of Fanny, and had conceived the idea that women in
general made far too much of the difficulties and inconveniences of child-bearing. She had a strong opinion that
in all normal and natural cases women were the proper
persons to attend their own sex, and therefore engaged
Mrs Blenkinsop, matron and midwife to the Westminster
Lying-In Hospital to be with her. When Mrs Blenkinsop
arrived, soon after Mary Godwin was taken in labour on
Wednesday, August 30, all seemed well. She had wished
that Godwin should not be in the house, and the notes that
follow, written to him during her labour, have probably but
few parallels.
MIary Wollstonccraft Godwin to TWI. Godwin.
"Aug. 30, I797.
"I have no doubt of seeing the animal to-day; but must wait
for Mrs Blenkinsop to guess at the hour. I have sent for her.
Pray send me the newspaper. I wish I had a novel or some book




BIRTH OF A GIRL.


273


of sheer amusement to excite curiosity and while away the time.
Have you anything of the kind?
The Same to the Same.
"Aug. 30, 1797.
"Mrs Blenkinsop tells me that everything is in a fair way, and
that there is no fear of the event being put off till another day.
Still at present she thinks I shall not immediately be freed from
my load. I am very well. Call before dinner time, unless you
receive another message from me."
The Same to the Same.
Three o'clock, Aug. 30, 1797.
"Mrs Blenkinsop tells me I am in the most natural state, and
can promise me a safe delivery, but that I must have a little
patience."
The child, not the William so anxiously expected, but
Mary, afterwards Mrs Shelley, was born at twenty minutes
past eleven, and for some hours all seemed well. But some
circumstances then alarmed the midwife, and Dr Poignard,
physician and accoucheur to the same hospital, was called
in. He did what was deemed necessary, and the danger,
which was extreme till about eight the next morning,
then appeared at an end. Godwin called in Dr Fordyce,
a very old friend of his wife, who confirmed Dr Poignard's
opinion that the patient was doing well; indeed, he quoted
Mrs Godwin's case the same day "in corroboration of
a favourite idea of his, of the propriety of employing
females in the capacity of midwives. Mary had had a
woman, and was doing extremely well." On Sunday, however, a very alarming change took place, and after a week
I.                       S




274


WILLIAM GOD WIN.


of terror, alternating with some gleams of hope, she sunk
and died on the following Sunday morning, September Io,
at twenty minutes before eight.
All that medical skill could do was done in the case.
Dr Fordyce and Dr Clarke were constant in their attendance, and Mr, afterwards Sir Anthony, Carlisle never left
the house from Wednesday, Sept. 6th, till the time of the
patient's death. Mr Basil Montagu was constantly with
Godwin, and was full of kindness and sympathy. Through
the whole time Godwin tells us "nothing could exceed the
equanimity, the patience, and affectionateness of the poor
sufferer."
Godwin's diary during these days is very curious. All
that he felt most deeply is recorded in his usual businesslike way; the hand-writing never falters, the same precise
abbreviations and stops are used, till the last, when occur
the only lines and dashes which break the exceeding neatness of the book. It is as follows:"Aug. 30, W.-'Mary' p. 16. Fell and Dyson call: dine at
Reveley's: Fenwicks and M. sup: Blenkinsop.
Birth of Mary, 20 minutes after II at night.
From 7 to 10, Evesham Buildings."  [This
refers to a change of lodgings.],, 3r, Th.-Fetch Dr Poignard: Fordyce calls: in the evening Miss G. and L. J. M. Reveley and Tuthil:
J. G. calls.
Sep. i, F.-Call on Robinson, Nicholson, Carlisle, and M.
Hays: Johnson calls: favourable appearances.,,  2, Sa.-Carlisle, Montagu, Tuthil, and M. Reveley call:
worse in the evening. Nurse.,,  3, Sz.-Montagu breakfasts: call with him on Wolcot,
Opie, Laurence and Dr Thompson. Shivering
fits: Fordyce twice.  Poignard, Blenkinsop
and nurse.




DEA TH.


275


" Se. 4, AMd-Blenkinsop: puppies [Dr Fordyce now forbade
the patient to nurse her child, and puppies
were employed to draw off the milk]. Johnson and Nicholson call: Masters calls.  E.
Fenwick and M. sleep. M. Hays calls.
Pichegru, arrested.,,  5, Tu.-Fordyce twice: Clarke in the afternoon.  M.
Hays calls.,,  6; I.-Carlisle calls: wine diet: Carlisle from Brixton:
Miss Jones sleeps.,,  7, Th.-Barry, Reveley and Lowry call: dying in the
evening.,,  8, F-Opie and Tuthil call. Idea of death: solemn
communication. Barry: Miss G. sleeps.,   9, Sa.-Talk to her of Fanny and Mary: Barry.,, Io, Su.-20 minutes before 8
It is not easy to characterize the frame of mind in which
Godwin sat down a few hours after these agitated penmarks were drawn, to write himself to those friends to
whom as he thought he owed the duty of himself communicating the loss he had sustained.    It was probably an
attempt to be stoical, but a real indulgence in the luxury of
woe. Among the first of these friends was Holcroft.
William  Godwin to T. Holcroft.
"Sunday, Sep. 10, I797.
"MY DEAR FRIEND.-The passage in your last kind letter that
related to the subject of self-reproach was rather out of season.
It has dwelt upon my mind ever since. My wife is now dead.
She died this morning at eight o'clock. She grew worse before
your letter arrived. Nobody has a greater call to reproach himself,




276


WILLIAM GODWIN.


except for want of kindness and attention in which I hope I have
not been very deficient, than I have. But reproach would answer
no good purpose, and I will not harbour it.
"I firmly believe that there does not exist her equal in the
world. I know from experience we were formed to make each
other happy. I have not the least expectation that I can now ever
know happiness again.
" When you come to town, look at me, and talk to me, but do
not-if you can help it-exhort me, or console me.
"W. GODWIN."
He also wrote to Mrs Inchbald, and the whole of the
letters which ensued are given consecutively, before passing
to other correspondence. Mrs Shelley who had the letters
before her, was certainly lenient in her judgment of Mrs
Inchbald in her note quoted above. Smart writing and an
argumentative temper were sadly out of place over the
death-bed of Mary Godwin.
Wiilliam Godwin to Mrs Inchbald.
"Sep. o1, 1797.
"My wife died at eight this morning. I always thought you
used her ill, but I forgive you. You told me you did not know
her. You have a thousand good and great qualities. She had a
very deep-rooted admiration for you.
"Yours, with real honour and esteem,
"W. GODWIN."
Mrs Inchbald to William Godwin.
[Sept. 10, I797]
"You have shocked me beyond expression, yet, I bless God,
without exciting the smallest portion of remorse. Yet I feel most
delicately on every subject in which the good or ill of my neighbours is involved.




AIRS INCHBALD'S CONDOLENCES.


277


"I did not know her. I never wished to know her: as I avoid
every female acquaintance, who has no husband, I avoided her.
Against my desire you made us acquainted. With what justice I
shunned her, your present note evinces, for she judged me
harshly. She first thought I used her ill, for you would not. I
liked her -I spoke well of her. Let Charlotte Smith be my witness, who received her character from me, such as I gave of her
to everybody.
" Be comforted. You will be comforted. Still I feel for you
at present. Write to me again. Say what you please at such a
time as this; I will excuse and pity you."
The Same to the Samze.
"Sept. II, 1797.
"The ceremony of condolence is an impertinence, but if you
consider mine superior to ceremony, you will accept it.
" I have too much humility to offer consolation to a mind like
yours. I will only describe sensations which nearly a similar misfortune excited in me.
" I felt myself for a time bereft of every comfort the world
could bestow, but these opinions passed away, and gave place to
others, almost the reverse.
" I was separated from the only friend I had in the world, and
by circumstances so much more dreadful than those which have
occurred to you, as the want of warning increases all our calamities, but yet I have lived to think with indifference of all I then
suffered.
"You have been a most kind husband, I am told. Rejoice,
the time might have come when you would have wept over her
remains with compunction for cruelty to her.
" While you have no self-reproaches to wound you, be pacified.
Every ill falls short of that.
" I lament her as a person whom you loved. I am shocked at
the unexpected death of one in such apparent vigour of mind and
body; but I feel no concern for any regret she endured at parting




278


8WILLIAM GODWIN.


from this world, for I believe she had tact and understanding to
despise it heartily. Mr Twiss received the news with sorrow, and
Mrs Twiss shed many tears. They were not prepared, any more
than myself, for the news, for they had not heard of her illness. I
showed them your note to me, and if you had seen the manner in
which they treated your suspicion of my influence with them
(and that was certainly your only meaning), you would beg my
pardon.
"I shall be glad to hear of your health, and that your poor
little family are well, for believe me concerned for your welfare."
"E. I."
William Godwin to Mrs Inchbald.
"Sept.  3, 1797.
"I must endeavour to be understood as to the unworthy behaviour with which I charge you towards my wife. I think your
shuffling behaviour about the taking places to the comedy of the
'Will,' dishonourable to you. I think your conversation with her
that night at the play base, cruel, and insulting. There were persons in the box who heard it, and they thought as I do. I think
you know more of my wife than you are willing to acknowledge to
yourself, and that you have an understanding capable of doing
some small degree of justice to her merits. I think you should
have had magnanimity and self-respect enough to have shewed
this. I think that while the Twisses and others were sacrificing
to what they were silly enough to think a proper etiquette, a person so out of all comparison their superior, as you are, should
have placed her pride in acting upon better principles, and in
courting and distinguishing insulted greatness and worth; I think
that you chose a mean and pitiful conduct, when you might have
chosen a conduct that would have done you immortal honour.
You had not even their excuse. They could not (they pretended)
receive her into their previous circles. You kept no circle to debase and enslave you.
" I have now been full and explicit on this subject, and have
done with it, I hope, for ever.




MRS INCHEBALD'S CONDOLENCES.


279


" I thank you for your attempt at consolation in your letter of
yesterday.  It was considerate, and well-intended, although its
consolations are utterly alien to my heart.
" W. GODWIN.
"I wish not to be misunderstood as to the circles above alluded
to. I mean not to apply my idea to the sacrifices, for one or two
of whom I feel more honour than I can easily express, but to the
idols."
Mrs Inchbald to William Godwin.
"Sept. 14, 1797.
"I could refute every charge you allege against me in your
letter; but I revere a man, either in deep love or in deep grief:
and as it is impossible to convince, I would at least say nothing
to irritate him.
"Yet surely thus much I may venture to add. As the short
and very slight acquaintance I had with Mrs Godwin, and into
which I was reluctantly impelled by you, has been productive of
petty suspicions and revilings (from which my character has been
till now preserved), surely I cannot sufficiently applaud my own
penetration in apprehending, and my own firmness in resisting, a
longer and more familiar acquaintance."
The Same to the Same.
"' Thursday, Oct. 26, I1797.
"With the most sincere sympathy in all you have sufferedwith the most perfect forgiveness of all you have said to me, there
must nevertheless be an end to our acquaintance for ever. I re-, spect your prejudices, but I also respect my own.
"E. INCHBALD."
Mrs Cotton, an old and intimate friend of Mary Godwin,
wrote a touching letter of condolence, from Sonning, near
Reading.   Godwin thus replied,



280


WILLIAM GODWIN.


William Godwin to Mrs Cotton.
" Sept. 14, 1797.
"DEAR MADAM,-I cannot write. I have half destroyed myself by writing. It does me more mischief than anything else. I
must preserve myself, if for no other reason, for the two children.
I had desired a friend to write to you. I suppose he has forgotten it. He is not in the way for me to inquire. She expressed
a wish to have had you for a nurse. I wrote a letter to you for
that purpose last Wednesday. But the medical attendants told
me it was useless to send it. She died on Sunday morning at
eight o'clock. She lasted longer than any one expected. She
had Dr Fordyce, Dr Clarke, and Mr Carlisle, the last of whom,
who is one of the best and greatest of men, sat with her the four
last nights and days of her life. Mrs Fenwick, author of 'Secrecy,'
a novel, was her principal nurse, and Mr Carlisle said, the best
nurse he ever saw. Four of my male friends stayed night and
day in the house, to be sent at a moment's warning anywhere that
should be necessary. I spent the principal part of my time in
her chamber. I will desire Mrs Fenwick to write to you. If you
have any inquiries to make, address them to her at my house.
" Believe me to be, with a deep sense of the affection my wife
entertained-for you,
"Your sincere friend,
"W. GODWIN.
" I find that the address I gave to my friend, Mr Basil Montagu, to write to you, was Mrs Cotton, near Henley-upon-Thames.
He has despatched a letter with that address."
The Same to the Same.
" Oct. 24th, I797....  I partook of a happiness, so much the more exquisite, as
I had a short time before had no conception of it, and scarcely
admitted the possibility of it. I saw one bright ray of light that




MHARY GOD WIN'S FAITH.


28i


streaked my day of life only to leave the remainder more gloomy,
and, in the truest sense of the word, hopeless.
" I am still here, in the same situation in which you saw me,
surrounded by the children, and all the well-known objects, which,
though they all talk to me of melancholy, are still dear to me. I
love to cherish melancholy. I love to tread the edge of intellectual
danger, and just to keep within the line which every moral and
intellectual consideration forbids me to overstep, and in this indulgence and this vigilance I place my present luxury.
"The poor children! I am myself totally unfitted to educate
them. The scepticism which perhaps sometimes leads me right in
matters of speculation, is torment to me when I would attempt to
direct the infant mind. I am the most unfit person for this office;
she was the best qualified in the world. What a change. The
loss of the children is less remediless than mine. You can understand the difference.-I am, madam, with much respect, yours,
" W. GODWIN."
Mrs Fenwick and Miss Hayes, the other friend who was
with Mary Godwin in her last hours, each wrote, as did Mr
Basil Montagu,. many of the necessary letters. Some words
of these ladies may serve to complete the picture of a very
beautiful character, and a very peaceful dejth. It was a
death, moreover-as here may fitly be remarked in connection with a sentence of her husband's quoted abovebrightened by the same faith which has brightened the
' deathbeds of so many more who have sinned and suffered,
faith in the love and mercy of God, whom she had never
doubted, though the words in which she would have couched
her creed may have changed, since she wrote her early letters
to George Blood. Her mind, as Godwin tells us, was un-./
disturbed by the graver doubts on the very Being of God
which assailed his own.




282


WILLIAM GOD WIN


Miss Hayes to [Mr Hugh Skeys.]
"Sir,-Myself and Mrs Fenwick were the only two female friends
that were with Mrs Godwin during her last illness. Mrs Fenwick
attended her from the beginning of her confinement with scarcely
any intermission. I was with her for the four last days of her life,
and though I have had but little experience in scenes of this sort,
yet I can confidently affirm that my imagination could never have
pictured to me a mind so tranquil, under affliction so great. She
was all kindness and attention, and cheerfully complied with everything that was recommended to her by her friends. In many
instances she employed her mind with more sagacity on the subject
of her illness than any of the persons about her. Her whole soul
seemed to dwell with anxious fondness on her friends; and her
affections, which were at all times more alive than perhaps those
of any other human being, seemed to gather new disinterestedness
upon this trying occasion. The attachment and regret of those
who surrounded her appeared to increase every hour, and if her
principles are to be judged of by what I saw of her death, I should
say that no principles could be more conducive to calmness and
consolation.' [The rest is wanting.]
Mrs Fenwick to Everina Wollstonecraft.
" Sept. 12, 1797.
"I am a stranger, to you, Miss Wollstonecraft, and at present
greatly enfeebled both in mind and body: but when Mr Godwin
desired that I would inform you of the death of his most beloved
and most excellent wife, I was willing to undertake the task, because it is some consolation to render him the slightest service,
and because my thoughts perpetually dwell upon her virtues and
her loss. Mr Godwin himself cannot upon this occasion write to
you.
" Mrs Godwin died on Sunday, Sept. Io, about eight in the
morning. I was with her at the time of her delivery, and with
very little intermission until the moment of her death. Every skil



MR TUTHIL'S SCRUPLES.


283


ful effort that medical knowledge of the highest class could make,
was exerted to save her. It is not possible to describe the unremitting and devoted attentions of her husband. Nor is it easy to
give you an adequate idea of the affectionate zeal of many of
her friends, who were on the watch night and day to seize on
an opportunity of contributing towards her recovery, and to lessen
her sufferings.
"No woman was ever more happy in marriage than Mrs Godwin. Who ever endured more anguish than Mr Godwin endures?
Her description of him, in the very last moments of her recollection was, 'He is the kindest, best man in the world.'
"I know of no consolations for myself, but in remembering
how happy she had lately been, and how much she was admired,
and almost idolized, by some of the most eminent and best of
human beings.
" The children are both well, the infant in particular. It is the
finest baby I ever saw.-Wishing you peace and prosperity, I
remain your humble servant,              ELIZA FENWICK.
"Mr Godwin requests you will make Mrs Bishop acquainted with
the particulars of this afflicting event. He tells me that Mrs Godwin
entertained a sincere and earnest affection for Mrs Bishop."
Mr Marshal who had been, as might be expected, one of
the friends so constant in his attentions, had, with Mr Basil
Montagu, the charge of the arrangements for the funeral.
Among those asked to be present was Mr Tuthil, a very
intimate friend of Godwin, who shared in his views on
religious as on other subjects. The correspondence which
ensued is honourable to both friends.
Mr Tuthil to Mr Marshal.
"3 CHAPEL COURT, OFF NEW BURLINGTON STREET,
[Sep. 13th, 1797.]
"I feel very much gratified at finding myself numbered with
those who had engaged Mrs Godwin's 'particular esteem,' and




284


WILLIAM GODWIN.


should rejoice to pay any honest tribute to her memory.  If a
funeral consisted simply in the expression of affectionate feelings,
I should ardently desire to follow her; but I much doubt the
morality of assisting at religious ceremonies; and I cannot place
myself where I should be inclined to think I did not look like an
honest man.
"It would be painful, very painful to me, if Mr Godwin were for
a single instant to suppose my decision incompatible with the
warmest affection.-Yours very sincerely,    G. TUTHIL."
William Godwin to iMr Tht/il.
"Sep. 13th, 1797.
" I think the last respect due to the best of human beings ought
not to be deserted by their friends. There is not perhaps an
individual in my list, whose opinions are not as adverse to religious
ceremonies as your own, and who might not with equal propriety
shrink from, and desert the remains of the first of women. I
honour your character; I respect your scruples. But I should
have thought more highly of you, if, at such a moment it had been
impossible for so cold a reflection to have crossed your mind.
Think of the subject again. Consult Holcroft. Act finally upon
the genuine decision of your own judgment.-Yours in sincere
friendship,                                W. GODWIN."
Mr Tuthzil to William Godwin.
"3 CHAPEL COURT, OFF NEW BURLINGTON STREET,
[Sep. 14th, I797.]
"I have reconsidered the subject, and can only arrive at the
same conclusion. If there be men who appear to me to violate
those principles which they profess to hold sacred, I cannot imitate
them. There has been a time when you would have thought as I
do: but show me that there is, even at this melancholy moment, a
deficiency of true feeling in this reflection, and I will instantly
discard it Indeed, indeed you do not understand me. There is
a coldness in my manner which has deceived you.-Yours very
sincerely,                                  G. TUTHIL."




THE FUNERA L.


283


Godwin was too prostrate both in mind and body himself
to attend the funeral or meet the friends who did so. He
spent the day at Marshal's lodgings and thence wrote to
Mr Carlisle.
William Godwin to Mr A;nthonzy Carlisle.
"Sep. ISth, I797.
" M  DEAR CARLISLE,-I am here, sitting alone in Mr Marshal's
lodgings during my wife's funeral. My mind is extremely sunk
and languid. But I husband my thoughts, and shall do very well.
I have been but once since you saw me, in a train of thought that
gave me alarm. One of my wife's books now lies near me, but I
avoid opening it. I took up a book on the education of children,
but that impressed me too forcibly with my forlorn and disabled
state with respect to the two poor animals left under my protection,
and I threw it aside.
"Nothing could be more soothing to my mind than to dwell in
a long letter upon her virtues and accomplishments, and our
mutual happiness, past and in prospect. But the attractions of
this subject are delusive, and I dare not trust myself with it.
" I may dwell however with perfect.safety upon your merits and
kindness, and the indelible impression they have left on my mind.
Your generous and unintermitted attendance upon the dear deceased
constituted the greatest consolation it was possible for me to receive
in that dreadful period when I most needed consolation. I may
say to you on paper, what I observed to you in our last interview,
that I never, in the whole course of my life, met with the union of
so clear and capacious an understanding, with so much goodness
of heart and sweetness of manners.
"It is pleasing to be loved by those we feel ourselves impelled
to love. It is inexpressibly gratifying, when we find those qualities
that most call forth our affections, to be regarded by that person
with some degree of a correspondent feeling. If you have any of
that kind ot consolation in store for me, be at the pains to bestow
it. But, above all, be severely sincere. I ought to be acquainted




285


8WILLIAMf GOD WIN.


with my own defects, and to trace their nature in the effects they
produce.-Yours, with fervent admiration and regard."
By a strange coincidence, Mr Hamilton Rowan was
writing on the same i5th of September to congratulate on
her marriage her who was then committed to the grave.
Archid. H. Rowan, Esq., to Mary /Wollstonecraft Godwin.
" BRANDYWINE, near WILMINGTON, DELAWARE,
"SePtr. 15, 1797.
" DEAR MADAM,-I rejoice most sincerely that you have such a
companion, protector, and friend as I believe him to be, whose
name the papers inform me you now bear. I have been much to
blame. In the more than two years that I have been in America
I have written only thrice to you. You were not happy. I had
no right to trouble you with my dark reveries. I was displeased
with my past and my present conduct and undecided as to my
future; how could I speak comfort to so wounded a mind as
yours? Now I may be allowed to croak. You know it was my
fashion in Paris. Through my wife's prudent conduct she has
been permitted to remain in possession of my property, and I
have thus become a pensioner of the Irish Government. That I
have spent only what was necessary for my subsistence does not
satisfy me. Every letter which I receive from Mrs H. R., though
couched in the most affectionate terms, yet shows me that what I
called acting from principle was in her idea wild ambition or
foolish vanity. A mode has been pointed out to me by which I
might possibly rejoin my family, but it is a renunciation of
principle. I cannot accede to the proposition. I should be for
ever unhappy, and, I think, should disgrace my children even as
long as it was remembered that I was their ancestor. As my
growling, however, signified little, I set about procuring an independence, and with this view have commenced calico printer, &c.,
on the banks of the Brandywine. I have connected myself with
a good sans culottes dyer from Manchester, who had two great
faults which forced him to quit that place —he could read and he




THE LAST RESTING-PLACE.


287


could speak. I rent the place where we are. Aldred, my partner,
has the stone mansion, and I have in a most romantic corner
built, upon a surface of I8 ft. square, a house in the second stage
of civilization, viz., a log house, where I and Charles, who has a
daughter, live and cook, &c., just as you saw in the Rue
Mousseaux.
"Nov. 17.-This has been lying by me, and the last papers
announce a melancholy event-and have you so shortly enjoyed
the calm repose I hoped you were in possession of. - I hope the
report is false; if true, let this convey my condolence to Mr G.
"ARCHD. HAMILTON ROWAN."
The funeral took place in Old St Pancras Churchyard,
attended by all the'friends, save Mr Tuthil, who had been on
terms of great intimacy with Godwin and his wife. The body
does not now rest there. That churchyard was rudely disturbed when the Metropolitan and Midland Railways were
constructed, before which time Godwin lay by his wife's
side. Loving hands transported their remains to Bournemouth, where they now lie together with those of their
daughter, Mrs Shelley.
This Memoir is a record rather of what was than a
speculation on what might have been. Yet it is impossible
not to think for a moment on the two lives, one shortened
so untimeously, one so blighted. That each had supplemented and improved at once the life and genius of the
other cannot be doubted, in spite of the little clouds which
had arisen on the fair sky of their domestic happiness.
That Mary Godwin's calm faith might have in some degree
softened her husband's ruggedness, that his critical faculty
might have aided to mature her style, and prune her luxuriant fancy, is probable. She too had been more schooled
in the actual work of life than he, and her experience might




288


28WILLIA4 M GOD WIN.


have saved her husband from the unfortunate pecuniary
difficulties which were so great a burthen on his later years.
But this was not to be. She died in her prime, intellectual
and physical, leaving'to the daughter to whom she gave
birth a mingled inheritance of genius and sadness, of filial
duty, met by coldness at home, of deep wedded joys and
deep widowed sorrows. She passed to her rest, not to be
disturbed by the chorus of vituperation which has assailed
her memory.
"Thee nor carketh care nor slander,
Nothing but the small cold worm
Fretteth thine enshrouded formLet them rave.
Light and shadow ever wander
O'er the green that folds thy grave —
Let them rave."
Yet it may be hoped that in some degree what has here
been written may give some a clearer view of the virtues,
and a more tender pity for the failings and the sorrows of
Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin.
The children were with Mrs Reveley during the few sad
days of extreme danger, and after the death. The infant
was also for a few days alarmingly ill, but recovered after
her return to her father's house on Sunday I7th. Little
Fanny had been brought home the evening before, and Mrs
Fenwick remained a few days to nurse the child. Godwin
removed all his books and papers from Evesham buildings,
and in future took for his study the room which had been
his wife's.
Among those who had been most zealous in offers of
help was Mr Nicholson, who, with his wife, wished to have




INTFA NT PHYSIOGINOMtlY.


289


charge of the children for a time, had they not been already
removed. The letter from him which follows shows not
only the interest which " Lavater's Speculations on Physiognomy" then were exciting, but one of Godwin's favourite
theories, which he brings out in several books, and notably
in " The Enquirer," that education cannot begin too early,
and that in the very dawn of infancy the future character
begins to develop. The Diary records that Mr Nicholson
visited Godwin on Monday, Sept. I8, and on his return
home the letter was written.
William Nicholson to William Godwin.
"NEWMAN STREET, Sept. 18, I797.
" DEAR SIR,-When I had the pleasure of seeing your little
daughter this morning, and you asked my opinion concerning her
physiognomy, I experienced some difficulty, partly from an illgrounded sense of ridicule in seeming to assume the character of
fortune-teller, partly from a consciousness of imperfect knowledge,
but chiefly from the little probability that the opportunity would
afford time for a calm consideration of the individual, and of my
own associated notions, which require meditation and development before I can satisfy myself. My view was, in fact, slight
and momentary. I had no time to consider, compare, and combine.  Yet I am disposed to think the following imperfect
observation may lead you to more than a suspicion that our
organization at the birth may greatly influence those motives
which govern the series of our future acts of intelligence, and that
we may even possess moral habits, acquired during the fcetal
state.
" i. The outline of the head viewed from above, its profile, the
outline of the forehead, seen from behind and in its horizontal
positions, are such as I have invariably and exclusively seen in
subjects who possessed considerable memory and intelligence.
"2. The base of the forehead, the eyes and eyebrows, are


I.


T




:290


9VILLIAM GOD IN.


familiar to me in subjects of quick sensibility, irritable, scarcely
irascible, and surely not given to rage. That part of the outline
of the forehead, which is very distinct in patient investigators, is
less so in her. I think her powers, of themselves, would lead to
speedy combination, rather than continued research.
" 3. The lines between the eyes have much expression, but I
had not time to develope them. They simply confirmed to me
the inductions in the late paragraph.
" 4. The form of the nose, the nostrils, its insertion between the
eyes, and its changes by muscular action, together with the side of
the face in which the characteristic marks of affection are most
prominent, were scarcely examined. Here also is much room for
meditation and remark.
"6. The mouth was too much employed to be well observed.
It has the outlines of intelligence. She was displeased, and it
denoted much more of resigned vexation than either scorn or
rage.
"On this imperfect sight it would be silly to risk a character;
for which reason I will only add that I conjecture that her manner
may be petulant in resistance, but cannot be sullen. I have
chosen to send you these memoranda, rather than seem to shrink
from the support of truth by declining to practise what I have
asserted could be done without difficulty in the case of my own
children.
"That she may be everything your parental affection can
desire is the sincere wish of-Yours, with much regard,
" WM. NICHOLSON."
The Diary shows, as might be expected, an almost complete stagnation in Godwin's literary life. Friends were
constant in their visits-Holcroft, the Fenwicks, Mrs
Reveley, Mrs Barbauld, and many more; but the only
reading recorded is his wife's published works, the letters
addressed to her, and the MSS. which she left unfinished,
and he found almost at once a comfort in beginning to




THE WOLLSTONECRAFT SISTERS.            291
compile the memoirs of her which were published in the
following year.  Mr Skeys, who wrote very cordially to
the husband of his first wife's friend, aided him with all
the information in his power; but Mrs Bishop and Everina
Wollstonecraft, who had never liked the marriage, gave
as little help as they could, and hence the meagreness and
even inaccuracies, in some parts of that narrative. These
ladies found, or said that they found, difficulties in getting
situations because of their relationship to Mary Godwin;
Mr Skeys, with whom they quarrelled, said it was because
of their own infirmities of temper. At any rate, they closed
as far as possible, and of their own accord, all communication between Godwin and the family of his wife, and for
many years showed no interest in either of the children she
had left.




CHAPTER XI.


A SING   IAR COURTSHIP-ERIEZDS. 1798.
EARLY in the year of which the domestic record has been
given, Godwin published the " Enquirer." It is a collection
of essays, based, as he says in his preface, on conversations.
It embraces a great variety of subjects, very much of the
character which we have already found he and his friends
met to discuss, such as "-Of Awakening the Mind," "Of
Co-habitation," "Of Riches and Poverty," and the like.
The volume elaborated in this manner many of the points
which had been treated cursorily in " Political Justice." It
did not in any degree detract from his fame, and is admirably written, but since it merely reasserted principles already
known as his, it excited no special attention, though it
went through several editions. A very furious onslaught
on the clergy, however, was one of the causes of a coolness
which grew between him and Dr Parr. The Doctor had
apparently not seen the book when Godwin paid his visit
to Hatton with Basil Montagu.
The beginning of the year 1798 saw Godwin restored to
-the usual tenor of his life, yet with a sense, constantly expressed in his letters, of a great void in his existence which
nothing could fill, with pecuniary cares pressing upon him,
and an almost bewildered feeling in regard to the nurture
and education of the children his wife had left him. Little
Fanny had, from an early period, won his warm affection;




'THE, MEM OIRS OF MARY GOD WVI' 29


293


she bore his name, and was always treated by him as a
daughter. The Diary of this year shews him again much
in society; indeed, rarely at home in the evening. - He
had no companion there, and it has been seen already that
his health did not allow of literary work beyond the time
so closely devoted to it in the morning. Yet the amount
of work recorded is surprising. Npt only was his pen
constantly employed, the early part of this year, on the
"Memoirs" of his wife, and afterwards on one of the
numerous books, of which he had always one or more
in hand; but his reading was varied as ever, and the
range was still more extended.  He read in this year
much Latin literature, chiefly the Poets; many French
works, mainly the older and standard authors; the old
English dramatists; and kept himself au courant with all
the books of merit which issued from the English press.
And there is a curious proof that this reading was, on the]t
whole, thorough and methodical, his extreme honesty with
himself leading him always to note in his private Diary
whenever he merely dipped into a book, and read it here
and there. Those who have turned over his MS. notebooks, have been greatly puzzled by an entry occurring at
irregular intervals, consisting apparently of the mysterious
word, "gala," any explanation of which long seemed quite
hopeless. A longer search, however, has shewn that whereas
in the earlier note-books he occasionally wrote of an author
that he studied him fa et MI, this phrase gradually became
fa Ad, and eventually "gala," the conundrum so difficult to
solve. The fact that this is occasional, and always in refer-.ence to books into which a man would only care to dip,
especially when, as was mostly the case, they had been read
before, shews clearly enough the thoroughness of the usual
study.




294


WILLIAM GOD WIN.


Any regular, more extended notes have for some time
ceased, but there are occasional memoranda of value. One
such relates to literary work intended during this year.
"1 I798. The following are the literary productions which I am
at present desirous to execute:"i. A book to be entitled 'First Principles of Morals.' The
principal purpose of this work is to correct certain errors in the
earlier part of my 'Political Justice.' The part to which I allude
is essentially defective, in the circumstance of not yielding a proper
attention to the empire of feeling. The voluntary actions of men
are under the direction of their feelings: nothing can have a
tendency to produce this species of action, except so far as it is
connected with ideas of future pleasure or pain to ourselves or
others. Reason, accurately speaking, has not the smallest degree
of power to put any one limb or articulation of our bodies into
motion. Its province, in a practical view, is wholly confined to
adjusting the comparison between different objects of desire, and
investigating the most successful mode of attaining those objects.
It proceeds upon the assumption of their desirableness or the contrary, and neither accelerates nor retards the vehemence of their
pursuit, but merely regulates its direction, and points the road by
which we shall proceed to our goal.
"Again, every man will, by a necessity of nature, be influenced
by motives peculiar to him as an individual. As every man will
know more of his kindred and intimates than strangers, so he will
inevitably think of them oftener, feel for them more acutely, and
be more anxious about their welfare. This propensity is as general
as the propensity we feel to prefer the consideration of our own
welfare to that of any other human being. Kept within due
bounds, it is scarcely an object of moral censure. The benefits
we can confer upon the world are few, at the same time that they
are in their nature, either petty in their moment, or questionable
in their results.  The benefits we can confer upon those with
whom we are closely connected are of great magnitude, or continual occurrence. It is impossible that we should be continually




INTENDED WORK.


295


thinking of the whole world, or not confer a smile or a kindness
but as we are prompted to it by an abstract principle of philanthropy.  The series of actions of a virtuous man will be the
spontaneous result of a disposition naturally kind and wellattempered. The spring of motion within him will certainly not
be a sentiment of general utility. But it seems equally certain
that utility, though not the source, will be the regulator, of his
actions; and that however ardent-be his parental, domestic, or
friendly exertions, he will from time to time examine into their
coincidence with the greatest sum of happiness in his power to
produce. It seems difficult to conceive how the man who does
not make this the beacon of his conduct can be styled a virtuous
man.   Every mode- of conduct that detracts from the general'
stock of happiness is vicious. No action can be otherwise virtuous
than exactly in the degree in which it contributes to that stock.
"I am also desirous of retracting the opinions I have given
favourable to Helvetius' doctrine of the equality of intellectual
beings as they are born into the world, and of subscribing to the
received opinion, that, though education is a most powerful instrument, yet there exist differences of the highest importance between'
human beings from the period of their birth.
"I am the more anxious to bring forward these alterations and
modifications, because it would give me occasion to shew that
none of the conclusions for the sake of which the book on.
'Political Justice' was written are affected by them. I am fully
of opinion that the sentiments of that book are intimately connected with the best interests of mankind, and am filled with
grief when I reflect on the possibility that any extravagances or
oversights of mine should bring into disrepute the great truths I
have endeavoured to propagate. But thus my mind is constituted.
I have, perhaps, never been without the possession of important
views and forcible reasonings; but they have ever been mixed
with absurd and precipitate judgments, of which subsequent consideration has made me profoundly ashamed.
"2. A book to be entitled 'Two Dissertations on the Reasons
and Tendency of Religious Opinion.' The object of this book is




296


6WILLIAM GOD WIN.


to sweep away the whole fiction of an intelligent former of the
world, and a future state; to call men off from those incoherent
and contradictory dreams that so often occupy their thoughts, and
vainly agitate their hopes and fears, and to lead them to apply
their whole energy to practicable objects and genuine realities.
The first Dissertation would be applied (I) to shew that the origin
of worlds is a subject out of the competence of the human understanding; (2) to invalidate the doctrine of final causes; and (3)
to demonstrate the absurdity and impossibility of every system of
Theism that has ever been proposed. The second Dissertation
would treat of the injurious and enfeebling effects of religious
belief in general, and of prayer in particular. The consideration
would be wholly confined to the most liberal systems of Theism,
without entering into superfluous declamation upon the pretences
of impostors and fanatics.
"3. A novel, in which I should try the effect of my particular
style of writing upon common incidents and the embarrassments
of lovers.
"4. Five or six tragedies."
Godwin's most constant associates at this time were
those named already as his friends and those of his wife;
Basil Montagu, T. Wedgwood, the Fenwicks, the Reveleys,
Mrs Cotton, Charlotte Smith: he received at his own house
very frequently the members of his family who were in
London. These, as his mother's letters imply, were doing
but little to their own advantage, and were a great drain
on Godwin's limited resources. Beyond this inner circle,
he mixed with almost all people then well known in the
world of liberal politics and of letters, and much also in
theatrical society: he seems to have attended the theatre
almost whenever he had no other evening engagement.
Wordsworth and Southey appear among the more noteworthy literary acquaintances of this year, the dinners with




THOUGHTS OF MARRIA GE.


297


Horne Tooke and with King were frequent, different as
was the society which assembled at the two tables.
It will be convenient to take first among the correspondence of this year that which relates to Godwin's domestic
life, and this requires a few introductory remarks. The care
of the children, and the -superintendence of the household
at Somers Town, was undertaken by Miss Louisa Jones, a
friend of Harriet Godwin. The position was not an easy
one to fill; there were difficulties with the servants in consequence of little Mary's requiring a wet-nurse; not all people
could understand or be prepared for Godwin's constant
uncertainty about dining or not dining at home; the combination of friend and upper servant has inconveniences of
its own, and is open to misconceptions. Besides, there is
some evidence from the poor lady's letters that she would
willingly have been a tender stepmother to the children,
while nothing could be further from Godwin's thoughts than
any relation whatever beyond that of housekeeper and
governess to his children. The arrangement, therefore, was
but temporary, and after Miss Jones ceased to reside in the
house, she, Miss Godwin, Mrs Reveley, and other lady
friends, seem to have given a kind, but at the same time
necessarily casual superintendence to the nurse in charge
of the children, who was devoted to them, and especially to
little Mary.
This was among the circumstances which induced Godwin to think it possible, even at a very early date after his
wife's death, that he might marry again. Experience had
modified his views on this as on some other matters. He didV
not find that the ideal best was always practicable, and the
comfort he had found tended to change his ideal. Mrs
Shelley writes that his sentiments. on the subject were
entirely changed, that



298


WILLIAM GODWIN.


"the happiness he had enjoyed, instilled the opinion that he
might, at least in a degree, regain the blessing he had lost, if he
married a woman of sense, and of an amiable disposition. Instead
of, as heretofore, guarding himself from the feelings of love, he
appears rather to have laid himself open to them. The two orphan
girls left in his charge of course weighed much in the balance; - he
felt his deficiency as the sole parent of two children of the other
sex. In March 1798, he left town, as he was in the habit of doing
for a short time in every year. He visited Bath, and spent ten
days in that city, where he met the authoresses of the Canterbury
Tales, Sophia and Harriet Lee.' [These ladies were the daughters of John Lee, an actor at Covent Garden; and after their
father's death they kept a school at Bath. They afterwards retired to Clifton and died there, Sophia in i824, Harriet in 185I,
aged 94. They each wrote, separately, several novels, and, conjointly, "The Canterbury Tales."] "The latter soon attracted
his admiration and partiality; to the end of his life he always
spoke of her with esteem and regard, though it was not till his
papers were placed in my hands that I learned the nearer tie that
he sought to establish between them. The feeling of love was
awakened on their first acquaintance, and his immediate desire
was to study her mind."
He made, on returning from visits to her house, in the
course of those few days, elaborate analyses of her conversation, in which they had discussed books together, Rousseau's works, Richardson, and others, and soon made up his
mind to win her, if possible, for his wife. They had only
met, as appears from the Diary, four times, but on Godwin's return to London he wrote as follows to Miss
Lee:
William Godwin to Miss Harriet Lee.
[AzI 1798.]
"When I last had the pleasure of seeing you, you said you supposed you should hear of me. What was your meaning in this, I




MIISS HAARRIET LEE.


299


do not think proper to set myself to guess, lest I should find that
you meant nothing, or what in my estimate might amount to
nothing. In saying, therefore, that you suyjosed you should hear
of me, I am determined to understand that you exj5ected to hear
from me. It is indeed a very displeasing thought to reflect, when
one's ideas of a person have just been raised by their writings, and
afterwards confirmed by a direct communication of sentiments and
feelings, that possibly years may elapse before that communication
is renewed, and that possibly it may even never be renewed.
There are so few persons in the world that have excited that
degree of interest in my mind which you have excited, that I am
loth to have the catalogue of such persons diminished, and that
distance should place a barrier between them and me, scarcely
less complete than that of death. Indulge me with the knowledge
that'I have some place in your recollection. Suffer me to suppose,
in any future production that you may give to the world, that while
you are writing it, you will sometimes remember me in the number
of your intended readers. Allow me to believe that I have the
probability of seeing you in no long time here in the metropolis.
You said, if I recollect right, that this was rather the less likely as
the friend with whom you used to reside in London had lately
removed to some other place. Why should not I venture to suggest the practicability of your substituting my house, instead of
the accommodation you have lost?  I do not perceive that there
could be any impropriety in it. A sister of the Miss Joneses, with
whom I resided at Bath, lives at my house upon the footing of an
acquaintance, and is so obliging as to superintend my family, and
take care of the children. I am sure she would be happy to do
everything to accommodate you. I should imagine, therefore,
that you might accept the invitation without sinning against the
etiquette that you love. It is true that my establishment is a
humble one, but you could not, perhaps, be under the roof of a
person who does more justice to your merits." [Here follows
some criticism on Miss Lee's writings, of no sort of interest
now.]
" Be so good as to express to your sister my sense of the flatter



i%30


3WILLIAM GODWIN.


ing politeness and attention she was so obliging as to bestow upon
me. Farewell.-Yours, with much regard and esteem,
"W. GODWIN."
This letter remained unanswered, and the lover became
tormented by a thousand doubts. Three drafts of letters
remain, which show his great perplexity. Had he offended?
He was sometimes impelled to pour out his feelings with
fervour and frankness, sometimes to be as guarded as
possible. The first draft is little more than a concise
announcement of his intention to revisit Bath, the second
is an open confession of all his feelings, and of this there
are three copies, but neither the first nor the second of
these letters seems to have been sent. The third which
reached Miss Lee is a curious mixture of confidence and
reticence, and half measures did not please Miss Lee.
William Godwin to Miss Harriet Lee.
[LONDON], " Saturday 7une 2, 1798. -
"DEAR MADAM.-I have been extremely mortified at receiving
no answer from you, to the letter I wrote soon after my late
excursion to Bath. I am not sure indeed whether, in perfect
strictness I was entitled to an answer. But silence is so ambiguous a thing, and admits of so many interpretations, that with the
admiration I had conceived for you, I could not sit down tranquilly
under its discipline. It might mean simply that I had not been
long enough your knight, to entitle me to such a distinction. But
it might mean disapprobation, displeasure, or offence, when my
heart prompted me to demand cordiality and friendship.  My
mortification has- since been increased, by finding that you have
been in town lately, and had left town before I knew of your
presence: though having a kind of suspicion that the 'Two
Emilys' would bring either Miss Lee or yourself to London, I
had made some enquiries on the subject.




MISS LEES DOUBTS.


301


"I am obliged to be at Bristol next week. I remember as my
greatest good fortune and pleasure in my last excursion the repeated
and long conversations I enjoyed at Belvidere House. May I hope
that now, having a right to call myself an acquaintance, I have not
without intention or consciousness on my part forfeited the kindness I then experienced as a stranger. Whether next week shall
be a week of pride or humiliation to my feelings will depend on
the solution it will afford to this question.
"Present my best remembrances to your sisters, and believe me,
with the highest regard and esteem, yours,
"( W. GODWIN."
On reading this letter Miss Lee underlined and bracketted
in pencil such words and sentences as she especially noticed,
or to which she took exception, then wrote a sort of minute
on the margin. This was returned to the writer, after the
final cessation of their correspondence.
[Note on the above by Miss Harriet Lee].
"The tone of this letter appears to me to betray vanity disappointed by the scantiness of the homage it has received, rather
than mortified by any apprehension of discouragement. If any
offence was given by the former letter this is calculated to renew
and increase it; for it is equally presuming without being more
explicit, except in two sentences so alien to the temper, or distant
from the express reach of the rest, that they should be made under
all circumstances to leave the letter. An alternative proposed by
the second clause presents itself to me thus: this journey to Bristol
has no reference to me; as far as that is concerned he visits me
simply as an acquaintance; but his title to be received as such has
been lost by his forwardness to employ the privileges, and claim
the rights of a more endeared relation. The purpose of his
journey is addrest to me, and it may be dictated either by humility
or assurance. I doubt that the former interpretation would be
given to a, letter in which the same air and accent reign as
in this."




302


WILLIAM GOD WIN.


She wrote, however, a civil but formal note, expressing
her readiness to see him, and on his arrival at Bath on
June 5th, Godwin formally paid his addresses to Harriet
Lee, and there is a note in his diary of a "conference"
on the subject.  That the lady admitted "regard and
esteem," appears from a correspondence which afterwards
ensued, and with this the lover was prepared to be content.
Miss Lee herself was not disinclined to marriage, but
feared what would be thought of it by her sister and the
world. Almost persuaded to treat this objection as lightly
as in reality it deserved to be treated, there remained what
was to her a very grave question; were Godwin's own
opinions such as would promise a happy marriage with a
woman who held strongly her faith in God, and the divine
guidance of the world?
It is not possible to fix exact dates to Godwin's
letters to Miss Lee, because only the undated drafts
remain, but they were subsequent to the conference.
Arguments to induce the lady to reconsider her determination are urged with a pertinacity and elaboration
-which would be wearisome to all but the principal performers in this little domestic drama, perhaps to all but
the writer. Extracts, however, will prove interesting, not
only as a specimen of love-letters which are probably
unique, but also as a statement of Godwin's own opinions,
thoroughly honest, of course, but placed in what he considered the most favourable light.
William Godwin to Miss Harriet Lee.
[Yune 1798.]
"... We got thus far, I think, in our last conversation, that
the decision you shall -be pleased to make will be of the greatest
importance, since, though it may be easy for either of us to marry,




DISPASSIONATE WOOING.                   303
supposing the present question to be decided in the negative, yet
it is not probable that either of us will, elsewhere, meet with a fit
and suitable partner, capable of being the real companion of our
minds, and improver of our powers. We must remain in that
separate and widowed state of the heart, which is no part of the
system of nature, or must, as St Paul says, be unequally yoked.
"... Pass over in your mind everything which, if we were
united, would employ us from day to day, and from week to week.
Things in which we perfectly sympathised, in which we acted in
concert, in which our feelings would vibrate to each other. In
the exercise of the benevolent and social affections, in the improvement of our understandings, in taste, in the admiration of
natural beauty, or the beauties of human productions; in the expressions-the refined, the delicious, but evanescent expressionsof mutual attachment, those expressions in which the true consciousness of life consists, that attachment which converts this
terrestrial scene into a paradise, we should, I hope, fully coincide,
nor should one discord intrude into the comprehensive harmony.
"... What will the world say?  In the first place, I am not
sure that you do not labour under some mistake in this case. I
must be permitted to say on this occasion, that among those who
personally know me, the respect and love I have obtained is, I
believe, fully equal to any reputation I may be supposed to have
gained for talents. I believe no person who has so far run counter
to the prejudices and sentiments of the world has ever been less
a subject of obloquy.  I know that many whose opinions in
politics and government are directly the reverse of mine, yet
honour me with their esteem. I cannot, therefore, be of opinion
that your forming a connection with me would be regarded as by
any means discreditable to you.... I have said to you once before, Do not go out of life,
without ever having known what life is. Celibacy contracts and
palsies the mind, and shuts us out from the most valuable topics
of experience. He who wastes his existence in this state may
have been a spectator of the scene of things, but has never been
an actor, and is just such a spectator as a man would be who did




304


304WILLIAML GOD WIN.


not understand a word of the language in which the concerns of
men are transacted. The sentiments of mutual and equal affection, and of parental love, and these only, are competent to unlock
the heart and expand its sentiments-they are the Promethean
fire, with which, if we have never been touched, we have scarcely
attained the semblance of what we are capable to be. When I
look at you, when I converse with you, it is more, much more the
image of what you might be, and are fitted to be, that charms me,
than the contemplation of what you are. I regard you as possessing the materials to make that most illustrious and happiest of all
characters, when its duties are faithfully discharged-a wife-a
mother. But if you are eminently and peculiarly qualified for
these offices, it is the more to be regretted, and shall I not add?
the more to be censured in you, if you peremptorily and ultimately decline them."
The Same to the Same.
[7une 1798].
"I sit down as a disinterested friend to give you an opinion,
the result of what has lately passed between us. It is little likely
that anything of consequence to me should arise either way from
what I am going to state. I give up the point I have hitherto
sought to enforce. You have erected an insurmountable wall of
separation between us. Henceforth we shall be no more to each
other than persons that had heard of each others' names, that
remember there was a period when for a short time they had the
habit of seeing each other, and who may now and then have occasion
to say, 'Dear me! no, I believe he is not dead, is he?' It might
have been otherwise. It ought to have been otherwise. But you
have made your election. I have neglected nothing that became
me. I have brought the whole- subject laboriously before you;
but you have remained pertinacious and immoveable. Certainly
my opinion of you is not altered; my partiality is not diminished;
if it were yet possible that you should view the question between
us with fairness and liberality, it would afford me a gratification
much, much beyond the power of words to express. It would




AN EARNEST ARGUMENT.


305


change me into a new creature, and open to me afresh the most
pleasing prospects of life. I know that your heart-the bias and&
leaning of your heart-is on my side. But you have found- the
secret of suppressing the feelings of your heart, and subjecting
them to the mystery and dogmas of your creed. Suppose, then,
that you are reading the reflections of an impartial friend, who
has the courage to communicate to you the truth; suppose that
the person whose visits you have lately had occasion to receive is
dead. Such a supposition may easily be made, and will cause
little difference in anything to which you look forward. The
friend who addresses you, as he has the courage to treat you irgenuously, so I hope wifl not forget what is due to your sex and
your merits, or utter a word that it would misbecome you to hear.
"You tell me, that if it were not for your religion, and your ideas
of a future state, you believe you should adopt a system of conduct
selfish and licentious. I do not credit you when you say this; if
I did, it would be impossible for me to have the smallest respect
for you. I am not so unfair as to suppose that your opinion has
the effect of rooting out all liberal and ingenuous sentiments from
your mind, but I think it a serious misfortune that you conceive
it has. Every parent and preceptor perfectly knows that a conduct adopted from the hope of reward or the fear of punishment
is not virtue. If I make myself useful to my fellow-men merely
because I expect to be rewarded for it, it is clear that I have no
love of utility or virtue, and that if the reward were placed on the
other side, I should immediately become as mischievous a creature as lives. Virtue is not a form of external conduct,-it is a
sentiment of the heart. I am a base and low-minded creature,
whatever be my external conduct, if I do not seek to confer happiness from a genuine principle of sympathy, and because I have
a direct and heartfelt pleasure in the pleasure, the improvement,
and advantage of others. If Omnipotence itself were to annex
eternal torments to the practice of benignity and humanity, I
know not how poor a slave I might be terrified into; but I know
that I should curse the tyrant, while I obeyed the command. In
reality, the virtue of every good man is built upon the stable basis
Ir.U


I.


U




306


TVILLIAM GOD WIN.


of what he sees and daily experiences, and not upon the precarious
foundation of the retribution which he rather endeavours to credit
than certainly believe.
" The second error I have to notice is that your creed, as you
understand it, inculcates the worst part of bigotry. You look, as
in fact you tell me, with suspicion and incredulity upon the virtue
of almost all that was most illustrious in ancient times, and upon
half the most unprejudiced and exemplary men of our own day.:
This is the very quintessence of bigotry, to overturn the boundaries
of virtue and vice, to try men, not by what we see of their conduct and know of their feelings, but by their adherence to, or
rejection of, a speculative opinion. You have a certain Shibboleth, a God and a future state, which if any man deny, you assert
he can have no firm and stable integrity. And, which is most
curious, you say to him, ' If you have only the sentiment of virtue,
if you only do good from a love of rectitude and benevolence, and
do not feel yourself principally led to it by a foreign, an arbitrary,
and a mercenary motive, I can have no opinion of you.' I am
happy to know that these errors of yours have no necessary connection with either Deism or Christianity.
"I am happy to say that I have known many Deists and many
Christians, who confess that morality is an independent rule, by a
comparison with which they pronounce on the goodness of providence itself, and of which the rewards of a future state are not the
source, but merely an additional sanction. Thinking thus, they
are not backward or timid in applauding the virtues of the patriots
and sages of ancient times- or of those benefactors of mankind in
their own day, who have discarded the opinions which they
cherish. I know it has been fashionable among divines to pretend that no man rejects religion but because he wishes to be
profligate with impunity, but liberal-minded believers despise the
shameless assertion.
"But I have done. I entertain no hopes of a good effect from
what I now write, and merely give vent to the sentiments your
determination was calculated to excite.. I have made no progress
with you. When you have dropped an objection it has been only




A REFUSAL.


307


afterwards to revive it; when I have begun to entertain fairer
prospects, you have convinced me I was deluding myself. My
personal qualities, good or bad, are of no account in your eyes, you
are concerned only with the articles of my creed. I am compelled
to regard the affair as concluded, and the rational prospect of
happiness to you and myself as superseded by something you
conceive better than happiness. I have now discharged my sentiments, and here ends my censure of your mistake. If ever you
be prevailed on to listen to the addresses of any other man, may
his success be decided on more equitable principles than mine
have been."
Miss Lee's next letter was intended to close the correspondence.
Miss Harr-iet Lee to William Godwin.
[BATH], ".7CzY 31, 1798.
"You distress me, sir, extremely, by again agitating a question
which ought to be considered as decided. I had full opportunity,
when in Town, to hear, and attentively to weigh your opinions
concerning the point on which we most differ: for perhaps I do
not fully agree with you in supposing our minds at.unison on
many others; but that is immaterial-the matter before us is
decisive. All the powers of my understanding, and the better
feelings of my heart concurred in the resolution I declared before
we parted; every subsequent' reflection has but- confirmed it.
With me our difference of opinion is not a mere theoretical
question.' I never did, never can feel it as such, and it is only
astonishing that you should do so. It announces to me a certain
difference in-I had almost said a want in-the heart, of a
thousand times more consequence than all the various shades of
intellect or opinion. My resolution then remains exactly and
firmly what it was: it gives me great pain to have disturbed the
quiet of your mind, but I cannot remedy the evil without losing
the rectitude of my own.
" I have taken from my sister the unpleasant task of telling you




-3o8


WILLIAM GOD WIN.


what you are unwilling to credit. She does justice to your understanding, she wishes you every good that you can reasonably
demand, but recollect how improbable it is that I should cherish
opinions she has not entertained long before; and even if I did,
self-dependent as I am both in mind and years, how little likely
is it that I should look to another for a rule either of duty or
happiness.
" You tell me that you are individually beloved by those who
know you, and I can easily believe it, but I will tell you that
even among the number of your friends, or at least well-wishers,
there are to my knowledge those who much lament, and even
blame the lengths to which your systems of thinking have carried
you, and who recede insensibly from your opinions, while they
preserve a respect for your intentions.
" If, in our conversations, I have ever appeared in any moment
undecided, it was only at those when it occurred to me that truth
and genuine feeling were so strongly on my side, that while you
were collecting arguments to enlighten my mind, I felt persuaded
of the possibility of a change in your own. And why should I
not? A doctrine so necessary to the heart, so consonant to the
reason, as that of a just and all-powerful Diety will I hope one
day find its way to both.
"My own good wishes and those of my sister attend you.
Nothing further can or ought to be said by either of us. Farewell
-but let it be a friendly Farewell.             H. L."
Godwin, however, was not so to be put down, and wrote a
flood of letters in one week, of which the following extracts
may serve:
William Godwin to Miss Harriet Lee.
[Early in August, 1798.]
"... What you have done is in the genuine style of the
eleventh and twelfth centuries. You have put out of sight the man,
and asked only what he believed. In the midst of the vast world
of conjecture, before the beginning of all things, that appropriate




ON BIGOTR            309


309


field of wild assertion, in which proud man, ignorant of the essence
and character of what immediately passes under his eyes, delights
to expatiate, you have chosen a creed. You have done well; it
amuses the fancy, it is the parent of a thousand interesting pictures,
it soothes the heart with pleasing ideas. This is the deism of those
persons whom I have known, who, having shaken off the empire of
infant prejudices, yet differ from me in the point in which you
differ. They frankly acknowledge that it is a matter of taste, and
not a matter of reason. What can you know of the origin of the
universe? Wert thou present when the foundations of the earth
were laid? Didst thou see whereupon they are fastened, or who
laid the corner stone thereof? Knowest thou it because thou
wert then born, or because the number of thy days is great? Still
more unsupported in reason is the notion of a future state. We
see a man die; we can lock up his body in a vault; we can visit it
from day to day, and observe its gradual waste; and we say that
an invisible part of him is flown off, and inhabits somewhere with
a consciousness that that, and that only, is the man. The
evidence that we had of his existence was speech, and motion,
and pulsation, and breath. All this is changed into a motionless
and putrid mass, and we still say the man exists. We pretend to
infer the character of infinite benevolence from what we see in a
world where despotism, and slavery, and misery, and war continually prevail, and then, reasonably growing discontented with the
scene, we piece out most miserably another world with hallelujahs
and everlasting rest, according to our fancy, and we call this
evidence. We first infer the goodness of God from what we see,
and then infer that this world is not worthy of the goodness of
that being whose existence we deduced from it. I have no disrespect for these opinions; far from it. I regard them as the
food of a sublime imagination and an amiable temper. But I
expect the unprejudiced man that cherishes them to know them
for what they are-the creatures of taste, and not of reason. I
expect him to be moderate and forbearing in assertion. I know
that such a man will never regard this invisible world, with which
he has no acquaintance, and which is the mere creature of his




310


WILLIAM GOD WIN.


conjecture, as a balance for the realities around him; will never,
instead of inquiring what is a man's understanding, what is his
genius, what are his morals, what is his temper, what the improvement, the pleasure, the mode of happiness he proposes to him;
will never, I say, instead of this, inquire, what is his creed, and
judge him by that.."
The Same to the Same.
[Early in August, I 798.]
"... Bigots have pretended that the will of God is the
foundation of morality, that what He commands is therefore right,
and what He forbids is therefore wrong. But rational theism
teaches that morality is antecedent to the divine will, and is a rule
to which God himself delights to conform. Rational theism
teaches that God is good; and to prove that He is so, compares
His providence and works with the immediate standard of rectitude to which God and good men equally adhere. The will of
God therefore is by no means the foundation of morality, but
merely its sanction, an additional reason why we should conform
to it..."
Mliss Lee wrote a letter on August 7th, which seems
to have been taken as final, in which she hopes that
friendly remembrance may still subsist, unchecked by
"minute misunderstandings," and so concluded this singular correspondence.   After a time, however, friendly
though somewhat formal intercourse was renewed, and
there is a letter extant, written in the following year by
Miss Lee in reference to a literary criticism by Godwin
on some new publication by her. But there is no allusion
to the more intimate terms on which he had once desired
to stand.
It was just as well that Godwin's plan of keeping house
with Thomas Wedgwood was never carried out.       Their




THOMAS WEDG WOOD.


3ir


correspondence shows the not unexampled state of things
in which two men who were intellectually complementary
to each other, who had for each other a sincere friendship,
were yet antipathetic when they met, and suited each other
only at a distance. Wedgwood had discovered this earlier
than Godwin, and though still writing very cordial letters,
though helping his friend with most liberal loans, or rather
presents of money, in his need, he yet, in his now failing
health, preferred that they should not meet, and that their
discussions should be conducted only on paper. Godwin,
on the contrary, characteristically desired that they should
meet and discuss rationally the questions whether they
were or were not more cordially and kindly disposed to
each other when apart. Only portions of one letter and of its
answer are generally interesting..Thomas Wedgwood to William Godwin.
"PENZANCE, Jzan. 6, 1798.
" It is hardly necessary for me to inform you that the contents
of your letter were highly agreeable to me. You are almost the
only person whose judgment is valuable to me on speculative
points, and on that account I feel continually the necessity of
your sanction. On the subject of friendship, no person ought to
think with so much charity of others or to speak with greater
diffidence than myself. I was not satisfied with the propriety of
my last letter, though, as it has happily led to an explanation
agreeable to both of us, I cannot now repent of it. Perhaps I
am incapable of friendship-my habits and disposition are certainly so unfavourable as to require a concurrence of fortunate
circumstances for its birth and support. ' Sickness,' says Johnson,
' makes scoundrels of us all,' it impairs and destroys sympathy.
But feebleness of constitution and spirits is not the only obstacle;
I have to contend with a timidity of disposition which has long




3I1'2.


f-WILLIAMd GOD LI:.


harassed me inconceivably, and which in a thousand ways is
obstructive to the growth of an entire and affectionate intimacy....
William Godwin to Thomas Wedgwood.
[LONDON], " Jan. 10, I798.
"...I am pleased with the style of writing you have lately
employed. I have more taste, though I have sometimes suspected
and often been told that it is a vicious taste, for letters and conversations of feeling than of discussion.; Allow me to recommend to you a very cautious admission of
the moral apophthegms of Doctor Johnson. He had an unprecedented tendency to dwell on the dark and unamiable part of our
nature. I love him less than most other men of equal talents and
intentions, because I cannot reasonably doubt that when he drew
so odious a picture of man he found some of the traits in his own
bosom. I have seen more persons than one or two, whom sickness has neither converted into scoundrels, nor stripped of a
sympathetic disposition.
" Your paying the postage of your' letters to me is contrary to
established etiquette. It is scarcely worth while to enter into an
argument about it, but I think I could prove to you that it is wrong.
" W. GODWIN."
Though Godwin was now a middle-aged man, though his
habits were methodical, and his manner somewhat cold and
formal, the fact that his opinions were progressive, and his
soul full of what would now be called the enthusiasm of
humanity, continued to attract to him young men of hopeful and vigorous minds, whom he never failed to receive
with kindness, and set forward to the best of his ability.
Their fresh youth, and the earnestness. of their minds,
served to keep his own mind buoyant, even in the midst of
sorrow and disappointment, and as his relations with Webb
and Cooper served in some degree to show what he was, in




70H1N ARNOT.


313


his inner life, so now does a correspondence with a young
Scotchman named Arnot, who, coming to London to seek
his fortune, attached himself to Godwin. He left no mark
on his generation, but he wrote excellent letters, and incidentally the correspondence throws light on Godwin as
showing the kind of lad who still attracted him. A note
by the second Mrs Godwin to Mrs Shelley describes
Arnot as
"a tall young man, pale faced, with large blue eyes with much
meaning in them, in shabby clothes. Whenever your father spoke
of him he extolled his intellectual powers, saw infinite folly and
danger in the intemperance of his impulses and pursuits, and
expressed his fear that he must be mad. At one period his sister
and her husband, Mr and Mrs Fyler from Edinburgh, put him in
confinement, and had a great dislike to your father, on account of
'Political Justice,' ascribing their brother's conduct to the principles it contains. Arnot and L. Jones [the lady who lived with
Godwin as housekeeper] were in love with each other. Arnot was
desperately attached afterwards to some German lady of rank. I
think this is in the letters."
The immediate reason why Arnot left Scotland does not
appear, but he walked the whole way from Edinburgh to
London, and wrote the account of his journey to a friend
whom he left behind him. These letters afterwards came
into Godwin's hands, and are preserved among his papers.
An extract from one of them is characteristic of the young
man, and is valuable as a picture of a scene not unfamiliar
at this time.
Yo/zn Arnot to Peter Reid.
" C.MBO [NORTHUMBERLAND], April 24, 1798.... "At some distance from the village of -Elsdon, through
which I passed to-day, I observed a large post erected on the top




314


3WILLIAM GODWIN.


of the hill. I conceived it might be an intimation about the roads
leading to such a place. Being thirsty, I went into a house near
it to buy some milk. I sat down to drink it, and inquired what
the post meant. "Tis a Gibbet, Sir.' 'A Gibbet! why was it
erected amongst the hills?' 'For murder; an old woman was
killed there, and two men and a woman were hanged for it, upon
that gibbet.'
" What a train of horrid ideas did that introduce into my mind.
I looked at the man who told it me; he is a sour-looking fellow.
His wife, a little shrew, in a red jacket, was present. I thought
her a devil. I took care to keep my stick near me, it was my
only means of defence. I felt a strong aversion to them both, and
was glad to get away.
" I went up to the gibbet. The bones are still hanging, kept
together with iron. This, no doubt, is intended as a conspicuous
monument of retributive justice. Is it thought this will have a good
effect? I cannot help being of an opposite opinion. Surely the
people who live near it cannot be happy. They cannot even feel
easy and contented till their minds become hardened. The ideas
of hanging and of murder must first become familiar to them. I
don't like them. Let me get away from this place.
" I walked as fast as I could, but could not walk long. I was
fatigued, and my right foot began to give me pain. I sat down,
therefore, upon a stone at the roadside, pulled out my little octave
flute, and began to play a tune, but it only added to my melancholy. I looked around. This is a wild, barren country; no
trees to be seen, no bushes or enclosures, no fine cultivated fields.
All is a dreary waste; this gibbet its only ornament; the sheep
its inhabitants. They were feeding within a few yards of me.
I looked on them with an emotion which I never felt before. Ah!
innocent people, as Thomson calls you, how much happier are
you than man-man who butchers you and his fellow-creatures
indiscriminately.
" Such is the nature of the present state of society. It punishes,
with the utmost severity, crimes to which it holds out irresistible
temptations.".




A WA.LKING TOUR.3


315


Arnot, after he had spent a short time in London, formed
the design of visiting the less known portions of Europe on
foot, at once to learn the German language, and to take
notes for a book of travels, to be published on his return.
Godwin warmly approved of this plan, and aided Arnot to
carry it into execution. France was of course closed to an
English subject, and he therefore went to Germany in a
Baltic ship by way of Russia. The letters that he wrote to
Godwin are all extremely good, but only portions of them
can here be given.
f7ohn A rnot to Willia~n Godwin.
" PETERSBURG, IO August 1798, New Style.
" DEAR SIR,-I shall leave this place to-morrow. I am so happy
that I have got my passport! And I assure you that it- was no
easy matter. It has detained me here for three weeks, living at
no little expense, in the British tavern...
" I arrived at Cronstadt after a tedious and very disagreeable
passage of.3o days, and in 5 days more got my passport to Petersburg. It was rather odd that I should have pitched upon the
worst ship in every respect, perhaps, of the whole fleet; my patience was tried more ways than one. I don't think Job himself
had more patience when he was my age.
"I declare I am afraid to write any more. I am writing to
Godwin just as if I was writing to my good friend Peter Reid,
scribble, scribble, scribble, I have fifty thousand things to say, and
don't know which to say first. I dare say my pen has run mad.
If I were beside you, you would think my tongue were mad..
" I intend to walk to Riga, and from Riga to Vienna. Indeed,
I am determined to be at Vienna this winter, that is, if nothing
happens to me by the way, which you know is possible. 'Walk
to Riga!! The poor lad has lost his wits. Do you know what
you are doing? Such weather, such roads, such a country, and
such a people. You may as well think of walking to the moon.'
But I'll walk it for all that. 'Tis nothing at all.




3i6


VI LLIAM i 'GOD W J'IN.


" I don't think I am half so courageous as when I left Scotland.
I believe I could have taken a bear by the ear as coolly as you
could take your dinner. But now that I have the prospect of
being happy when I return-am I not happy already, at least at
this moment?-I begin to think I am worth the taking care of,
and therefore I am determined to take care of myself, and never
to meddle with a bear unless the bear meddles with me, and to be
wondrous civil to the boors and the booresses..
" I have been obliged to lighten my parcel very much. I gave
away ' Tristram Shandy' about five weeks ago, and my two flutes.
I have laid aside all my pistol bullets, except about 20, and am
thinking to throw away the only shirt and pair of stockings I have
to spare....-I am, with great esteem, yours, &c.
JOHN ARNOT.
" I keep no journal on my way to Vienna. I dare not."
The Same to the Samte.
- "DtRESDEN, Wednesday, 7th NAro. 1798.
" DEAR SIR.-Here I am. Fol lol de rol, nay I will give you
the very notes. No I will not; for you don't care for music, at
least for the music that I care for..
I cannot get a grammar. There is none here. I shall apply
very hard, for I wish to be master of the language in 4 months,
and then I may go to the Play, and where else I please. I must
also study French, which in Dresden is the only language that is
spoken in fashionable company. I shall have enough ado. I
wish also I had English books, but I cannot have everything while
I have no money.
" I don't recollect whether I mentioned to you that I had brought
with me from Edinburgh, sets of the best old Scotch songs. By
publishing them here, and perhaps also at Leipsig, or Prague, or
Vienna, or at all of these places, I hope not only to procure a
subsistence for the winter, but to be able to pay such debts as I




GODWINS SYMPATHY WITH THE YOUNG.                317
have contracted. Germany as you know is a very musical country,
and the Scotch songs are very fine.... Adieu, yours sincerely,
"'JOHN ARNOT."
" P.S.-I heard something of a great victory obtained over the
French. If you haveany of the old newspapers containing an account
of that, or of any other remarkable public occurrence, I shall be
obliged to you for them. But first it would be proper to enquire
whether it is allowed to send papers abroad, for I would rather
want them than run the risk of losing your letters...
William Godwein to Yohn A rzot.
[LONDON, Nov. 23rd 1798.]
"DEAR ARNOT,-I derived exquisite pleasure from the receipt of
your letter. I have thought of you a thousand times with inexpressible anxiety. I have been accused, as you know, of countenancing a young man, in whom I felt a powerful interest, in entering
unprovided, and unsupported, upon an attempt the most perilous
and insane, from which it was next to impossible he should not
reap intolerable calamities, and hardly probable that he should
come off alive. Without an accuser I should have sufficiently felt
the high responsibility that devolved on me. Yet what could I
do? The first sensation your project excited in me was envy. I
wished I could have been a lad like you to undertake what you
proposed. I saw in you many qualifications, fitting you for the
design, courage, though not an uniform courage, and an easy and
assured manner, calculated to smooth a thousand difficulties, and
prepossess strangers in your favour. Feeling approbation, could
I belie my sentiment?
"Under these impressions it seemed to me very long before I
heard from you. I saw you for the last time on the 13th of June,
and your first letter did not reach me till the ioth of November.
You promised me to write from Petersburgh. My active imagination passed in review all the dangers of your route, immense
deserts, rude forests, fierce Cossacks, hunger, assassination and
death. These evils would have impressed me more strongly, had




3I8


WILLIAM GOD VIN.


not the various reports of the vigilance of Russian police created
in me a persuasion that you would not be permitted to enter that
empire. I confess I had my fears that you would return, looking
like a fool, by the same vessel in which you sailed. I considered
however that if all activity and enterprise did not desert you, you
would in case of the worst, find means to push for the other
side of the Baltic, and find rest for your foot on the dry land of
Sweden.
" And now, will you forgive me, if.I acknowledge, in spite of the
heart-felt pleasure with which I received your letters, my satisfaction was not unmixed with disappointment. The first consisted
of five poor lines, with a morsel of postscript.  The kindest
construction I could put upon this was that you were so sunk in
spirit that if you had written more, you felt your melancholy and
dejection would break out, and therefore out of pure generosity
you stopped while you could.  But if this were the kindest
construction, it was not the most consolatory. Your second letter
has in some degree removed this uneasy apprehension. It reached
me last night, November 22nd, in fifteen days from its date. But
in neither do you tell me where you have been, what you have
seen, not even whether you took the route of Livonia, Poland,
and Silesia, or of Sweden, Denmark, Holstein, &c.; whether you
took shore at Petersburgh and continued your route by land, or
whether though first at Vienna, and now at Dresden, you have
seen no other country than Germany. Another fault I find is,
that I trace in your letters no feature of the mind I loved, no
sterling observations of man, no agreeable naivete of adventure.
I hope while your body has been in restless motion, your mind
has not slept. But I suppose you reserve all your good things to
surprise the world with.
" I think your famous Dr John Brown affirms that the natural
genuine state of man is death. I know not what physical truth
there may be in this, but morally I greatly fear that the man who
would truly be alive must obstinately spur his mind into a much
better state than that into which, if neglected, it will sink. I hope
you keep a copious journal. I hate. travels into the four quarters




THE EXPEDITION TO EGYPT.


319


of the world written after all is over, within sight of St Paul's
Church. Perhaps it would be better for your book, and better for
yourself that you should visit some countries that are not travelled
every day, such as Hungary, Spain, &c. You ought too, to take
some precautions respecting your manuscripts, that in case of
an accident your name and your usefulness may not be wholly
lost. But above all take care of yourself. I had rather be
refreshed by the sight of John Arnot in person than John Arnot's
book.... Study language elaborately, you cannot know man
without understanding his speech.
"You ask for news.... The grand topic is Egypt. Buonaparte
sailed for that country in May. Our Admiral Nelson pursued him,
arrived before him, and returned to Europe. Buonaparte landed
his forces July ist. Nelson having refitted, sailed again to Alexandria, where he found the French Fleet still at anchor. Nelson
with 14 ships attacked the French with 13 on August ist, took 9
and burned 2, so that only 2 escaped. Buonaparte, on the other
hand, seems impregnably established in possession of Egypt. The
Turk has in consequence declared war against France.
" Coleridge and Wordsworth, two names that I believe you will
find in the list I wrote out for you, landed some time ago at
Hamburgh. They are at no great distance from that place, but I
cannot learn where. You may perhaps meet with them in your
rambles.  They are both extraordinary men, and both reputed
men of genius. Coleridge I think fully justifies the reputation...
"I 1 wish you all manner of prosperity, improvement, and happiness."
7ohn A rnot to William Godwinz.
"DRESDEN, Saturday, 8th Dec. 1798.
"DEAR GODWIN,-Your letter has given me no small degree of
pleasure, but I confess it has also given me anxiety. It seems the
letter of a man who once thought well of me, but who now finds
with regret that he has reason in a great measure to retract his
good opinion. It is worse. It seems to me to be written in a
tone of melancholy despondency. I don't know what to think of




320


0WILLIAMII GOD WIN.


it. What a disappointment that you have not said a word of my
friends. Not a word of Louisa [Jones]-not a word of Fannynot a word of sister Mary, who was so fond of me-nor of Miss
Godwin, nor Marshall, nor Dyson, nor Dibbin, nor anybody.
Ah, Godwin, you would not have forgot that, had you received my
letter from Petersburg, or had you known how nearly I feel my
happiness allied to theirs. Are they well? or have they forgot
me? or can you think I have forgot them?
"Curse the news-what care I for Egypt?  But that was my
own thoughtlessness and impertinence....
"I took the route of Livonia, Poland, and Silesia. I passed
through Riga, Warsaw, Cracow, Teschen, Olmiitz, Briinn, to
Vienne.  So far from having kept a copious journal; between
Petersburg and Warsaw I marked only the days of the month, and
the place where I slept each night, when that place had a name
and I knew it. Before I reached Warsaw I lost my inkholder-a
loss which in the capital of Poland could not be supplied, so that
I did not afterwards write another word, but trusted solely to my
memory. I regret this.
"I am quite of your opinion that it would be better to visit
countries which are not traversed every day. Hungary, however,
I scarcely expect to see, or any part of the Emperor's dominions,
so difficult is it to procure admittance, and so closely are you
watched when admitted.... Fortune, indeed, has not smiled
upon my- early youth, and my infant years have been years of
misery; but among the few happy periods of my life I shall ever
rank the time I spent in walking through Poland. And yet I
met with nothing there to make me happy; the generality of
young men in my situation would have considered their condition
as most desperate and deplorable. My happiness was founded in
hope, and in thinking of the Polygon...."
There can be no doubt that Godwin had, during his married life, withdrawn himself in some degree from those
acquaintances who did not lie within his immediate circle




MALTHUS ON POPULATION.


321


of friends, and had also taken less interest in the more
abstract questions connected with life and politics than he
had done before. His life on the whole was so happy,
rounded, and complete, his literary work had been so
sharply defined during that period, that he had less time
and inclination for pursuits and companions once, and to
be again, full of interest for him. But he now began once
more to see and correspond with literary and distinguished
men beyond his intimates, though many letters written by
him are unfortunately lost. Such is the case with that to
which the following letter is an answer, but the document
itself is of sufficient importance to call for insertion.
The writer, the Rev. T. R. Malthus, published anonymously his " Treatise on Population " in I798, but no secret
was made of the authorship, and he gave his name to the V
fourth edition, published five years later. Mr Malthus, who
was born in 1766 at Albury, was Fellow of Jesus College,
Cambridge, and afterwards, from 1804 till his death in 1831,
Professor of History and Political Economy at Haileybury
College, then the place of education for Writers in the
East India Company's Service. The main doctrine of the
Treatise is that assistance should be refused to poverty for
the purpose of preventing over-population-which he
declares to be the main cause of the evils apparent in
human life-though his name is more often associated with
some of the details of his argument.
The Rev. R. Malthus to William Godwin.
"ALBURY, August 20th [I798].
" DEAR SIR,-I went out of town almost immediately after I left
you on Wednesday morning, and therefore did not receive your
obliging letter till I arrived at Albury, whither Mr Johnson was
so good as to send it.
I.x


I.


x




322


WILLIAM GODWIN.


" In the view in which you now place the subject, do you not
in some degree change the question from the perfectibility and
happiness to the numbers of the human race; and it may be
a matter of doubt whether, without looking to a future state, an
increase of numbers without a perpetual increase of happiness be
really desirable.
" Could we suppose any country, by the most extraordinary
exertions, to arrive at the nze pNus ultrct of subsistence and population, in one or two centuries we have reason to think that the
pressure of population in its utmost weight, would be felt in
frequent famines and pestilences, and particularly in the small
recompense of labour; for I think you yourself must allow that
under the present form of society the reals recompense of labour
depends upon the increase of the funds for its maintenance; and
when these funds are completely stationary, and have continued
so some time, this recompense will naturally be the least possible.
You think that the present structure of society might be radically
changed. I wish I could think so too; and as you say I have
completely failed in convincing you on this subject, will you have
the goodness to remove a few of those difficulties which I cannot
remove myself, and allow me to be convinced by you? -
" I set out with granting the extreme desirableness of the end
proposed-that is, the abolition of all unnecessary labour, and the
equal division of the necessary labour among all the members of
the society. I ought also to premise, that in speaking of the
present structure of society, I do not in the least refer to any particular form of government, but merely to the existence of a class
of proprietors and a class of labourers, to the system of barter and
exchange, and to the general moving principle of self-love.
"I can conceive that a period may arrive when the baubles that
at present engage the attention of the higher classes of society may
be held in contempt; but I cannot look forward to a period when
such a portion of command over the produce of land and labour
as cannot be within the reach of all will cease to be an object of
desire. Moderate cloathing, moderate houses, the power of receiving friends, the power of purchasing books, and particularly




LABOUR AND PROPERTY.


323


the power of supporting a family, will always remain objects of
rational desire among the majority of mankind. If this be allowed,
how is it possible to prevent a competition for these advantages?
If the labour of luxuries were at an end, by what practicable
means could you divide the necessary labour equally? Without
the interference of Government, which I know you would reprobate
as well as myself, how could you prevent a man from exchanging
as many hours of labour as he liked for a greater portion of these
advantages? Were the island of Great Britain divided among a
great number of small proprietors, which would probably be the
most advantageous system in respect to produce, it would be the
natural wish of each of these proprietors to get the labour of his
farm done for as small a part of the produce as he could, that he
might be able to gratify his inclination in marrying without transgressing the rules of prudence, and provide for a large family,
should he have one. The consequence of this desire in the proprietor to realise a sufficiency to maintain and provide for a family,
together with the desire in the labourer to obtain the advantages
of property, would be that the labourer would work 6, 8, or io
hours in the day for less than would support 3, 4, or 5 persons,
working two hours a-day. Consequently the equal division of the
necessary labour would not take place. The labourers that were
employed would not possess much leisure, and the labourers that
were not employed would perish from want, to make room for the
increase of the families of proprietors, who, as soon as they were
increased beyond the power of their property to support, must
become labourers to others, who, either from prudence or accident,
had no families. And thus it appears that, notwithstanding the
abolition of all luxuries, and a more equal division of property, the
race of labourers would still be regulated by the demand for labour,
and the state of the funds for its maintenance.
"The prudence which you speak of as a check to population
implies a foresight of difficulties; and this foresight of difficulties
almost necessarily implies a desire to remove them. Can you give
me an adequate reason why the natural and general desire to remove these difficulties would not cause such a competition as




324


WILLIAM GOD WIN.


would destroy all chance of an equal division of the necessary
labour of society, and produce such a state of things as I have
described? If you can satisfy me on this head, I will heartily
join with you in invectives against the increase of labour, and in
the general sentiments of your essay on avarice and profusion.
Excuse my descending to particulars, as I am of opinion that the
great object of our researches, truth, cannot be attained without it.
" Your objection against the present form of society, on account
of its preventing the greatest practicable population, would, in
some degree, bold against your system of prudence, the object of
which, as I conceive, would be to keep the population always considerably within the means of subsistence. Should such a system
ever prevail so generally as to remove the constant want of an
increasing quantity of food, it is highly probable that cultivation
would proceed still more slowly than it does at present. I only
approve of the present form of society, because I cannot myself,
according to the laws of just theory, see any other form that can,
consistently with individual freedom, equally promote cultivation
and population. Great improvements may take place in the state
of society; but I -do not see how the present form or system can
be radically and essentially changed, without a danger of relapsing
again into barbarism. With the present acknowledged imperfections of human institutions, I by no means think that the greatest
part of the distress felt in society arises from them. The very
admission of the necessity of prudence to prevent the misery from
an overcharged population, removes the blame from public institutions to the conduct of individuals. And certain it is, that almost
under the worst form of government, where there was any tolerable
freedom of competition, the race of labourers, by not marryingy
and consequently decreasing their numbers, might immediately
better their condition, and under the very best form of government, by marrying and greatly increasing their numbers, they
would immediately make their condition worse. As all humaninstitutions will probably be imperfect, and consequently always
open to censure, it is not surely fair to charge them with evils
of which, as far as I can judge, they are totally guiltless. And in




MRS GOD WIN, SENR., ON MARRIA GE.


325


all projected changes of human institutions, it appears to me of
the highest importance previously to ascertain as nearly as possible
how much evil is to be attributed to these institutions, and how
much is absolutely independent of them.
"I have made this letter much longer than I at first intended;
and I certainly ought to apologise for taking up so much of your
valuable time: but if your avocations will not permit you to answer
it, I shall hope for some future opportunity of hearing your opinions
upon the subject, when I have the pleasure of seeing you.-I am,
dear sir, yours sincerely,                 A. MALTHUS."
A letter from Mrs Godwin, senior, will close the record of
the year.
Mrs Godwin, senior, to William Godwin.
[WOOD DALLING, I798.]
"MY DEAR WM —I'm a poor letter writer at best, but now
worse than ever. After-thanking yo- for yr genteel present of the
Memoirs of yr. wife.  Excuse me saying Providence certainly
knows best, the fountain of wisdom cannot err. He that gave
life can take it away, and none can hinder, and tho we see not
his reasons now, we shall see them hereafter. I hope yo- are
taught by reflection your mistake concerning marriage, there
might have been two children that had no lawful wright to anything yt. was their fathers, with a thousand other bad consequences, children and wives crying about ye streets without a protector. You wish, I dare say, to keep yr own oppinion, therefore
I shall say no more but wish you and dear babes happy. Dose
little Mary thrive? or she weaned? You will follow your wives
direction, give them a good deal of air, and have a good oppertunity, as yo- live out of ye- Smoke of the city. You will be kind
enough to let yr. Sister know Mr and Mrs G. and self wish to know
if she recd. a box with eggs whole, they were all new, and sundry
trifels I sent her, with a new piece of print for my grand-daughter
Mary for a gown, with 2/6 to pay for the making, a pr. little




326


WILLIAM GODWIN.


Stockens and Hat for yr. Ch. i6 March last. Am greatly concerned to hear yr. Bro. has lost his place at Wright's; am affiraid
it's from the old cause; Seneca's morals he bostes off is not
sufficient, there is something else wanting of greater moment and
importance. I dont write to him because he gives me such hard
names, as that I don't act up to the carrector my blessed Saviour
has set me, &c., though I wish him well, and think I discharge
my duty towards him. He wrote me word he wish'd he had done
with Sirvitude or with life, I'm afraid he is prepared for neither.
I have been burning a great number of old letters, but when I
came to yours, it was with great reluctance that I destroyed them,
there is such a kind and benevolent spirit in them towards your
dear S. and J. in their necessities. What a burthen has John been
to yo~! Poor creature, what will become of him I tremble to
think. He trusts providence,. but its in a wrong way, not in ye
way of well doing. I have sent him a new shirt for Mr Sothren to
send by private hand, directed to Hanh. I coud send him my
riding-coat, its so very heavy, and I so very week I cant wear it,
and perhaps Natty a waistcoat, but imagain the use he will make
of them will be to lay them in pawn, but so he must if he will,
who can help it? Money is of no use, nor is it much otherwise
with some others which I shall not name.
"By seling a little Timber, and frugality in my expences, hope
to be able a little after Mic[haelmas] to help you and the rest to
~io a-piece, taking yr. notes for it, perhaps will just keep their
heads above water. I wd reserve somthing to keep yr- S; from
starving, but yt. will be difficult. If I leave her a place for her life,
and she be deep in debt, and have interest to pay, she will be
nothing ye. better. I wish you to write very soon by post with
your opinion of the matter, and also how Joe conducts himself
towards his wife and family. I sent Mary a pritty mourning ring
with an emethist and 2 sparks in it; do you ask to see it, also a
box for it; hope she will not loose it. Would not wish yo- to
declare the contents of my letter: my best wishes attend you and
yours. Yr- Bro. Hull and wife and Natt join me in the same,
Mrs G. is in ye increesing way; their eldest has got the measels




A MOTHERS ANXIETIES.                    327
is very full, but hope no danger. I see in ye news a Miss Foster
married of Wisbeach.-From yr- affecate Mother,    A. G.
" I wish you woud let me know if there is any better way of
directing letters or parcels, are they no more than letters to
London when directed to Somers Town.
" What I send Han wou'd be glad yo- to be her director what
use to make of it. She has told me some former letters she was
affraid she sh'd be put to trouble, and often exprest yo- have been
a father to her, but it stands yo- in hand to take care of yourself;
an aspiring temper will be beat down, while the humble shall be
exalted."




CHAPTER XII.


ST LEON-MRS REVELEY. 799.
THE year 1799 began with a breach with Mackintosh, which
afterwards grew wider. Mackintosh delivered early in that
year, in the hall of Lincoln's Inn, a course of lectures on?
the Law of Nature and Nations. To some expressions in
the first of these Godwin objected, as unfairly directed
against himself.   His letter is not preserved, but its
purport can be in great measure divined from the following
reply:Mr, afterwards Sir, 7ames Mackintosh to
William Godwin.
"SERLE STREET, LINCOLN'S INN, 30oh Jany. I799.
" DEAR SIR,-I read your very candid and good-tempered letter
with real pleasure. I owe you an honest answer. I think I am
disposed to make it a perfectly good-natured one. The strongest
expression you quote, 'Savage Desolators,' you will find on
reperusal to be a half-pleasantry directed against metaphysicians
in general, amongst whom I have sometimes the vanity to number
myself.  'Those who disguise commonplace in the shape of
paradox' is most certainly not an allusion to you. The thing is
so common as an art of literary empiricism that I rather think no
particular writer was present to my mind when I wrote the passage.
Your opinions do not stand in need of any contrivances to make
them appear more singular than they are. As to Turgot, Rousseau,
and Condorcet, I have the highest reverence for the first of these
writers. The second I have long considered as the most eloquent




BREACH WITH MACKINTOSH.


329


and delightful madman that ever existed. The third I always
thought a cold and obscure writer; I never could think very
highly of his talents, partly perhaps because I am no great judge
of his mathematical eminence, which is, I believe, the principal
part of his reputation. His conduct did not appear to me to have
been that of a good man. But in none of the phrases which you
have selected have I even so much as insinuated that he or any
other mistaken speculator was influenced by bad motives. A
man may be 'mischievous' with the best 'motives' in the world.
In all discussions of 'Speculative Principles' it is always a most
unfair act of controversy to load the author whom we oppose with
the 'immoral consequences' which we suppose likely to flow from
his opinion, not to mention that it is a sorry and impertinent
sophism to urge such consequences as an argument against the
truth of a speculative proposition. But the case is very different
in moral and practical disputes.  There the consequences are
everything, and must be constantly appealed to, especially by
those who, like you and myself, hold utility to be the standard of
morals. To apply this to the present subject. With respect to
you personally, I could never mean to say anything unkind or
disrespectful. I had always highly esteemed both your acuteness
and benevolence. You published opinions which you believed to
be true and most salutary, but which I had from the first thought
mistakes of a most dangerous tendency. You did your duty in
making public your opinions. I do mine by attempting to refute
them; and one of my chief means of confutation is the display of
those bad consequences which I think likely to flow from them.
I, however, allow that I should have confined those epithets, which
I apply to denote pernicious consequences, merely to doctrines.
Though these epithets, when they are applied by men to me, are
never intended to convey any aspersion upon the moral or intellectual character of individuals, but merely to describe them as
the promulgators of opinions which I think false and pernicious,
yet I admit that I should not in any way have applied the epithets
to men. I feel gratitude to you for having recalled my attention
to this great distinction which I shall observe in my proposed




330


WILLIAM GODWIN.


lectures, and in the work which may one day be the fruit of them,
with a caution which is prescribed equally by a regard to my
own character, and to the interests of science. I assure you that
I never felt any desire that our intercourse should be lessened;
having never experienced anything but pleasure from it. Distance,
accident, occupation, and laziness have contributed to make it
less; inclination has had no share. I, on the contrary, hope that
we shall continue to exhibit thd example, which is but too rare, of
men who are literary antagonists but personal friends.-I am, with
great regard, yours,              JAMES MACKINTOSH."
Godwin's Diary for the year exhibits him engaged in the
same, or even greater intellectual labour than before. The
conscientious accuracy which impels him to state the fact
when a book was read only superficially, " fa et la," serves to
bring into greater prominence the number of books of all
kinds, and in many languages, which were read thoroughly.
'He wrote in this year his novel of " St Leon," on which he
bestowed extreme pains, a tragedy, and many Essays and
Articles. " Caleb Williams" had proved so great a success
that he had been much urged to write a second novel, but
he hesitated; he "despaired of finding again a topic so rich
of interest and passion." At length, however, he thought
that if he could " mix human passions and feelings with
incredible situations," he might conciliate even the severest
judges. The situations of "St Leon: a Tale of the Sixteenth Century," are indeed sufficiently incredible, since the
hero, St 'Leon, has the secrets of the Philosopher's Stone
and the Elixir Vitae; and Godwin took as his motto to thework a quotation from Congreve, " Ferdinand Mendez
Pinto was but a type of thee, thou liar of the first magnitude." The aim of the tale is to show that boundless
wrath, freedom from disease, weakness and death, are as




sr LEON.


33I


nothing in the scale against domestic affection, and "the
charities of private life." For more than four years he had
desired to modify what had been said under that head in
" Political Justice," while he reasserted his conviction of the
general truth of his system.
Though it had a considerable reputation, and went
through many editions, it never had the popularity of
" Caleb Williams;" its even greater improbability removed
it still more from the region of human sympathies. But the
description of Marguerite, drawn from the character of Mary
Wollstonecraft, and of St Leon's married life with her,
idealized from that which Godwin had himself enjoyed, are
among the most beautiful passages in English fiction, while
the portrait of Charles, St Leon's son, stands alone. No
such picture has elsewhere been drawn of a perfectly noble,
self-sacrificing boy.
It does not appear that the tragedy-was ever published,
nor is any trace of it now to be discovered.
When his books were laid aside for the day, he
entered into society, and very few  days indeed are
now  mentioned  as spent at home.    There is little
mention of the children,, who, indeed, were a great and
increasing' embarrassment to him,. but such allusions. as
there are in the Diary and Letters, show great tenderness and affection.  He took Fanny out with him to
the houses of his intimate friends, and there are two or
three entries of "Astley's with Fanny." While his chosen
friends and most constant companions remained the same
as in former years, he was attracting to himself many
literary men-Wordsworth, Coleridge, and Lamb,-though
the intimacy with these scarcely ripened till the following
year. Frequent visits also to Sheridan and other political
men show a great revival of the old political interests,




332


WILLIAM GOD WIN.


though the questions were not so burning nor were men's
minds so keenly exercised about them, as had been the
case a few years before.
But neither literary work, politics, nor society, welcome
as Godwin was to all his friends, could make up for the
want of the home-life which he had so greatly enjoyed,
even when from his dislike of constant " co-habitation," he
had striven to minimize the time he gave to it. The correspondence with Miss Lee has shown that he was anxious
to contract another marriage, and in this year it seemed
possible, at least it seemed so to him, that the way was
open to such a marriage, in which his feelings no less than
his reason might be once more deeply engaged. Mrs
Shelley's note will explain the circumstances.
"An event happened during this year which gave a new turn
to Mr Godwin's feelings: this was the death of Mr Reveley,
which occurred suddenly from the breaking of a blood-vessel on
the brain, on the 6th of July I799.
"His widow has often described to me her horror at this event.
He did not die at the moment of breaking the vessel; he became
gradually stupefied, and his senses, one by one-first his taste,
then his sight-failed him. He was unaware of his danger in the
first instance, and as the thought that he was really dying flashed
across his wife's mind, her terror became ungovernable. Mrs
Fenwick, the ever kind, cordial, womanly friend, had called in the
morning, and finding Mr Reveley indisposed, remained to assist
in waiting on him. At this moment of horror she looked out of
the window, and saw Marshal passing up the street on horseback.
She called to him, and he was in an instant with the frightened
women, ready to devote his whole time to their assistance. A
physician was called in, but it was a case past all medical aid from
the moment the vessel broke. He died in a few hours.
"From the chamber of death his widow rushed to a remote,and desolate room at the top of the house, in a state bordering on




MR REVELE Y'S DEATH.


333


frenzy,-for a week she remained in the same place, in the same
state. She and her husband had at times disagreed, and believed
themselves unsuited to each other. But he was the husband of
her early youth, the father of her adored son, the friend and companion of nearly fifteen years. She was endowed with the keenest
sensibility, and her heart received a shock from which she could
with difficulty recover.
" Mr Godwin heard of Mr Reveley's death at the house where
he dined on the same day." [This is a mistake of Mrs Shelley's,
as it appears from the Diary that on Saturday, July 6, Godwin
did not dine out, and he went to the theatre in the evening.
But on the next day, Sunday, he dined with his sister, Harriet
Godwin, to meet Mr and Mrs Fenwick, and there probably
heard of what had occurred on. the previous evening.]  "He
became thoughtful and entirely silent-he already revolved the
future in his mind. Maria Reveley had been a favourite pupil, a
dear friend, a woman whose beauty and manners he ardently admired. After his wife's death, his visits and attentions had excited
Mr Reveley's jealousy, and they became to a great degree discontinued. His uprightness and candour of character made him disdain the suspicion, but he withdrew, unwilling to be the cause of
domestic feud. It was, however, his plan to yield but little to
form and etiquette, and before Mr Reveley had been dead a
month, he did not scruple to ask to see his widowed friend, and
to make her understand the feelings and prospects with which her
visits would be paid. She at first refused to see him, and several
letters passed between them."
Mrs Reveley's letters have not been preserved, but copies
of those which Godwin sent to her still remain.
William Godwin to Mrs Reveley.
[July 1799].
"How my whole soul disdains and tramples upon these cowardly ceremonies! Is woman always to be a slave? Is she so,
wretched an animal that every breath can destroy her, and every




334


WILLIAM GOD WIY.


temptation, or more properly every possibility of an offence, is to
be supposed to subdue her?
" This ceremony is to be observed for some time. What miser-able, heartless words! What is some time? this phrase, upon
which all feeling, all hope of anything reasonable is left to writhe,
and to guess, as it -can, when its sufferings shall have an end.
You know in what light such ceremonies have been viewed by all
the liberal and wise, both of my sex and yours.
"If you mean any more than ceremony, say so. You are free;
with this stroke of my pen I sign your freedom. But think, what
must be my sensations, and my tranquillity, while you leave me in
doubt whether this freedom is or is not to be used against me.
"I am the furthest in this world from wishing to give you a
moment's pain. You, with your entrenchment of ceremony, have
forced me, very, very contrary to my own inclination, to say thus.
much. I ask not a word of answer from you. I have no* wish
that you should know what it is you are doing, and what are the
feelings which you are imposing, and are resolved, for some time,
to impose upon me.
"The conduct which propriety and a generous confidence in the
rectitude of our sentiments dictated to us both was too plain to be
mistaken; to see each other freely and honestly as friends; to lay
down no beggarly rules about married and unmarried -men; and
to say nothing, for some time, but what was the strict and accurate
result of friendship. If you had that confidence in me which
every sentiment of my heart proclaims to me I deserve, you would
have felt no want of these ceremonies.
" I use no form of superscription, because I know of none that
can at all represent the interest I take in your welfare.
"W. GODWIN.
"I give this to Mrs Fenwick to transmit to you, because whatever I think of your rules, I will not without your consent break
through them in any point in which I can avoid it.
* "Do you think you can be more anxious about the propriety
-and rectitude of your conduct than I am?"You cannot be displeased with the above. I do not pretend




PROPOSAL OF MARRIAGE.


335


to prescribe to you any article of your conduct. That I should
take care to let you know what my feelings are can never be imputed to me as a crime."
The Same to the Same.
[August 1799.]
" I think you have the courage to excuse the plainness with
which I am going to speak. The game for which we play, the
stake that may eventually be lost is my happiness and perhaps
your own.
" You have it in your power to give me new life, a new interest
in existence, to raise me from the grave in which my heart lies
buried. You are invited to form the sole happiness of one of the
most known men of the age, of one whose principles, whose temper, whose thoughts, you have been long acquainted with, and will,
I believe, confess their universal constancy. This connection, I
should think, would restore you to self-respect, would give security
to your future peace, and insure for you no mean degree of respectability. What you propose to choose in opposition to this I
hardly know how to describe to you. You have said you cannot
live without a passion; yet you prefer a mere abstraction, the unknown ticket you may draw in the lottery of men, to the attachment of a man of some virtues, a man whom you once, whom you
long believed you loved. Your temper is so gentle and yielding,
in those moments in which your heart is moved, that you indeed
want a protector and an amulet. I cannot bear to think of what,
but for the sake of warning you, I would not suffer to remain a
moment in my thoughts, the new difficulties, embarrassments, and
repentance in which this amiable softness of your character will,
too probably, involve you. I offer you a harbour, once your
favourite thought; you prefer to launch away into the tempestuous
treacherous ocean. I should not forgive myself in case of any
new misfortune to you, if I had not ventured to say thus much.
" How singularly perverse and painful is my fate. When all
obstacles interposed between us, when I had a wife, when you had
a husband, you said you loved me, for years loved me! Could you




336


WILLIAM GODWIN.


for years be deceived? Now that calamity on the one hand, and
no unpropitious fortune on the other, have removed these obstacles,
it seems your thoughts are changed, you have entered into new
thoughts and reasonings.".. [The end of the letter is lost.]
The Same to the Same.
[Sept. 1799.]
"I am surprised, and will you forgive me if I add, pleased, at
Mrs Fenwick's intelligence, that your objection to what you once
desired is wholly grounded upon your opinion of my understanding.
I cannot persuade myself to regard this as an invincible objection.
If Mrs Fenwick has misunderstood you, if your objection have
any other basis beside this, I think you owe it to me to correct
my mistake.
"And so you would really demand in a partner an understanding too little comprehensive to see into many things, and a heart,
for these are wholly or nearly inseparable, of too little sensibility to
feel many things? Surely to state such a requisition is sufficiently
to display the misapprehension on which it is founded. I should
have thought experience would have shown you how little is to be
hoped from characters of this kind. Make one generous experiment upon a man of a different sort. Can you fail to be aware
that the man of real powers will infallibly, at least when he loves,
be affectionate, attentive, familiar, and totally incapable of all
questions of competition or ideas of superiority; while the man of
meaner or middling understanding may almost always be expected
to be jealous of rivalship, obstinate, self-willed, and puffed up with
the imaginary superiority he ascribes to himself? Can you fail to
be aware of the inferences which you ought to draw from the
respective characters of the two sexes? We are different in our
structure; we are perhaps still more different in our education.
Woman stands in need of the courage of man to defend her, of
his constancy to inspire her with firmness, and, at present at least,
of his science and information to furnish to her resources of amusement, and materials for studying. Women richly repay us for all
that we can bring into the common stock, by the softness of their




.AN ARGUMENT.


-337.


natures, the delicacy of their sentiments, and that peculiar and
instantaneous sensibility by which they are qualified to guide our
tastes and to correct our scepticism. For my part I am incapable
of conceiving how domestic happiness could be so well generated
without this disparity of character. I would not, if I could,
marry a man in female form, though that form were the form of a
Venus.
" You say you are incapable of reasoning with me. Believe me,
there is no good to myself I would not cheerfully sacrifice, rather
than consciously be guilty of an atom of sophistry. Ask yourself
whether any word I have put down on this subject be not unquestionable truth, and I might almost say put down dispassionately. This, as I have just said, is the privilege of our sex, from
superiority of education, to collect the materials of decision: your
sex, though feeling both exquisitely and admirably, are often in
danger of deciding from a partial view of the subject.
"But what I have just said was not the purpose for which I sat
down to write, though I could not prevail on myself to omit it. I
am willing to leave this question to tinle. There is no character I
have so'much repugnance to act as that of a tormentor. The point
I have principally to press is one which, so far as I at present see,
tends to decide whether you have a heart or have no heart; I
mean the point of the continuance of our acquaintance.
" WVe have now lived on terms of the most cordial and unreserved friendship for six years. For more than four of those six
years I suffered no thoughts respecting you, but those of single
and unmixed friendship, to find harbour in my heart. You showed,
in a thousand instances, that you valued my friendship, as I hope
it deserved to be valued. On my part, at a moment when what
would have happened without my interference I regarded as your
ruin, I spared no exertion of my faculties or my industry, I defied
misrepresentation and obloquy in every shape they might assume,
so I might rescue you. Esteeming me probably more than you
ever esteemed any other man, you, with a resolution that does you
the highest honour, preserved my acquaintance, oftenu in spite of
MI\r Reveley, once in spite of myself. Again and again, when he


I.


Y




338


8WILLIAAM GODWIN.


was unwilling to receive my visits, by your perseverance you conquered his inflexibility: at another time, when I was no longer
willing to pay them to him, you conquered me. If, the moment
all these complicated obstacles are removed, you of your own
accord cease from all further intercourse with me, what, I beseech
you, would you have me think of you? You always professed the
highest regard for Mrs Godwin; naturally it would be expected
you should feel some interest in her children and mine: are these
motives all at once become nothing to you?
" You cannot form so despicable an opinion of me as to suppose
that I can view you with no eyes but those of a lover. You saw
the contrary for years; and believe me, I know what I say; I can
conquer myself again and again, as often as the conquest shall be
necessary. There is nothing upon earth that I desire so ardently,
so fervently, so much with every sentiment and every pulse of my
heart, as to call you mine. But dispose of that point as you
please, I am too vigorous and robust of soul ever to be made the
suxcide of my body or the suicide of my mind. No objection to
our intercourse can therefore arise from that point.
" If you are all at once become so thoroughly the slave of a
miserable etiquette that you must not even risk the seeing me alone,
you may dine here with my sister; she comes to me every other
Sunday thro-igh the year: next Sunday is her day: or order me to
invite Mrs Fenwick: when the heart is willing, such trifles are
easily adjusted.
" It is, however, more than probable that in all I have said
respecting our intercourse, I have been fighting a shadow. In one
of your first intimations to me since your widowhood, you said
you could not see me, or any unmarried manfor some time: that
did not sound as if our intercourse was to be closed for ever. I
think, however, you pay too little attention to my feelings. Two
months of etiquette have now nearly elapsed, and no elucidation
of this some time has yet reached my ears. You ought perhaps to
have known that respecting persons in whom I feel myself interested, uncertainty fills my soul with tumults, and tortures my fancy
with a thousand painful and monstrous images."




ARNOT'S TRAVELS.


339


Whatever answer Mrs Reveley returned to this was
probably accepted as conclusive, and Godwin no longer prosecuted a suit which was unwelcome, or strove to anticipate
the date at which it would be possible that those between
whom so strange a correspondence had passed should meet
on the old terms of intimacy. They did not in fact meet
till December 3d, as it appears from the Diary, and then
Mrs Reveley was in the company of Mr Gisborne,
whom she afterwards married. And thus ended a curious
wooing.
A considerable number of letters from Arnot to Godwin
were written during this year. He was in Dresden after
his tour from Vienna, often in great poverty, during which
he had seriously thought of hiring himself out as a footman to obtain the very necessaries of life. But his desire
of writing his travels, and making, as he believed, a very
important book, was never laid aside, in spite of much discouragement from those who encountered him, Tuthil,
Godwin's friend, now residing at Dresden, among the
number. From Hamburg his journals were despatched to
England, with the intention that they should be simultaneously published in English, French, and German. There
is, however, no trace of such a work discoverable, his family
strongly opposed the publication, and it is probable that
their objections prevailed. The letters written to Godwin
are less full than those presented already of his personal
experiences of travel, because these were recorded in the
now missing journal, but some shrewd observations are
worthy of extraction as showing what subjects he knew
would interest Godwin, while they are moreover striking in
themselves, because, though coming from a young man at




'34o


3WILLIAM GOD IVN.


such a time, they breathe such an essentially modern
spirit.
Yohn Arnot to Godwin.
"HAMBURG, Sunday, 4lh Augusst 1799.
"... Having first delineated the character of the [Russian]
people, I meant then to have pointed out to the English, and to
every civilised nation, how much they had to dread if ever such a
people, or rather if such machines should be put in motion against
them as enemies, and to have called their attention to the prodigious extent of the Russian Empire, and the gradual encroachment of its Sovereign, first in Asia from south to north, and now
in Europe from north to south. After a due consideration of
these facts, I flattered myself that I might be able perhaps to persuade the English to dissolve their present alliance with Russia.
In this I now think I was too sanguine, but it is not improbable
that my representations might in time have produced a good
effect..
"Another project soon occurred, which would not have been
difficult to execute. I had not pored long over my books before
I was struck with the difference in the combination of the words
in the German and in the English languages; the one the language
of imagination, yet minutely accurate and metaphysical in its distinctions; the other the language of reflection, simple and philosophical, for such do these languages appear to me to be. - When
I shall have considered them better, it may be that I shall find
myself mistaken. As I proceeded with my reading, this difference
of arrangement became to me still more remarkable, and at length
suggested the idea of attempting an analysis of the German language, and a comparison of it with the English. With the
minutiae of the grammar of both I had no concern; that would
have been more than I could have grasped; I meant only, from
several well chosen sentences in both languages, to select of each
that sentence which should seem to me most complete for my
purpose, to analyse them both, tracing the order of ideas, and
placing them in various points of view, and then to compare them




A LONG WALIK.


341


together. The study of philosophical grammar is generally supposed to be a very dry study. I had long been of opinion that
no study was dry if it were pursued in a proper manner; I thought
I had now an opportunity of making the experiment, and for two
months I continued collecting remarks and preparing materials,
all of which were to me agreeable and entertaining, and, as I
hoped, would have proved so to others."
In the winter Arnot was again at Vienna, where Godwin
sent him money, and though the amount is not stated, it
was clearly no inconsiderable sum. It came when he was
in great poverty, in want of food, and with scanty clothing,
one pupil, a Polish Count, to whom he taught English, his
only means of livelihood, but with still undaunted purpose
of writing a great book of travel, which should supersede
all existing books on the subjects treated, and come as a
very revelation to his countrymen. What might be done
by a determined walker appears in the following extract:The Same to the Same.
"VIENNA, 26/h Novr. 1799.
"... I left Hamburgh with a few shillings in my pocket, but
instead of taking the straight road to Vienna, or even to Frankfort-on-the-Main, where I had addressed my portmanteau, I turned
aside to Bremen. I then went to Ferden, Hanover, Hildesheim,
Gottingen, Cassel. From Cassel I turned to the left to Mfilhauser,
and from thence to Gotha, Erfurt, Weimar, Jena. At Weimar I
saw Wieland and Heider; I called also upon Goethe, but was not
admitted. At Jena, where I saw Tuthil, I staid a few days, and
then travelled over Coburg, Schweinfurt and Wiirtzburg to Frankfurt; from Frankfurt I returned to Wiirtzburg, and went to
Bamberg, Nurnberg, and Ratisbon.  Ratisbon is said to be
about 270 or 280 English miles from Vienna, which, however, I
might have reached. in four days by sailing down the Danube, at
the expense of perhaps six shillings, but instead of doing that I




342


WILLIAM GOD WIN,


turned to the north, and, travelling through the Upper Palatine,
and crossing those mountains of Bohemia covered with wood that
go by the name of the Bohemian Forest, I arrived towards the end
of October at Prague. Here I wished to have staid for a short
time, but being in great want; I was obliged to depart in three or
four days for Vienna.
"The weather during the summer was as extraordinary as
during the winter. The long continuance of the rain was equally
astonishing, vexatious, and ruinous. Having no change of clothes,
and being amongst a most unfeeling and inhospitable people, and
frequently without a penny, you may conceive that I endured
many hardships, and that my health was not thereby improved.
Yet whatever effect this may have had upon me at the time, it has
upon the whole acted differently upon me from what might
naturally have been expected,-instead of disheartening me it has
increased my ardour, and rendered me doubly sanguine in my hopes
of favourable weather for my travels through Hungary. Having
endured so much, I wish to have now some compensation....
"Perhaps I shall pay a visit to the Black Sea. But I don't
know if this would be advisable, and I confess I am not fond of
venturing into the Turkish dominions.-I am, with much esteem,
&c.,                                     JOHN ARNOT."
On the receipt of Arnot's MSS. towards the end of this
year, Godwin lent them to Arnot's brother, from whom
remains an angry letter in regard to them, protesting against
their publication. According to this gentleman, "the ingenuity and knowledge which he may have evinced is prostituted in the support of sentiments which are visionary, and
subversive of all social order, and yet (thank God) totally
irreducible to practice."  He requires Godwin "in the most
particular manner not to publish these MSS.," or if it be
not in his power to withhold them from the press, he desires
that the publication may be an anonymous one.
Of Godwin's friends on the Continent, Arnot had met




CRITICISM ON ST LEON.


343


not only Tuthil, but Holcroft also, who was residing for a
considerable part of this year at Hamburgh. His reasons
and plans appear in the correspondence, where also appears
a renewal of the squabbles which had from time to time
interrupted the usual cordiality between the friends, but
with this difference that the "little rift" which now was
made was never again completely closed, as it had been on
former occasions.
Thomas Holcroft to William Godwin.
"HAMBURG, 7uly I9th, I799.
"At Wim. Cole's, No. Ioo Cathermen Strasse.
"We have been in this place eight days, and, had I time, the description of what I have already seen would be certainly more than
sufficient to fill eight pages. But it is not my present intention
to say anything on-this subject, except to remark that though
there may be few essential differences in the morals, or great outlines of behaviour in two nations, yet the numberless little particulars produce so striking an effect upon the eye and imagination,
and we are so apt to wonder and laugh at what we are not accustomed to, that for some few days young and unpracticed persons
might imagine themselves suddenly transported to another, and,
certainly not in their opinion, to a better world.
"I received your second volume, and made enquiries immedi
ately after my arrival, but have not yet met with any person who
could give me sufficient information relative to the translating and
publishing it in the German language. I think it right to tell you
that Louisa and Fanny have read the two volumes, and are both
of opinion that Leon is a second Falkland, but much his inferior.
I was present when Louisa several times laid down the book to
exclaim against his feeble and absurd conduct, to which I made no
reply whatever. But it was a consolation to me to find they were
both delighted with Marguerite. They think, however, there is by
no means the same degree of interest created as that which they
felt in reading 'Caleb Williams.' I inform you of this because




344


I-'IL-IAMf GOD WIN.


you have always wished to enquire into the feelings of your
readers, and because I consider such experiments as beneficial.
"I was somewhat moved, and rather surprized at the note
included in the parcel. You reproach me for not having consulted
you on my travelling plan, which you say you have always disapproved and loathed. I have been frequently amazed at your
forgetfulness, but never more than in the present instance. It is
full two years, I believe indeed much more, since I first conceived
the project. I spoke of it frequently, and I dare affirm oftener to
you than to any other person. I cannot recollect whether you then
made any objections, but had they been very serious and pointed
they would surely have been attended to, and not forgotten.
My reasons, however, I think you have already heard, and when
again brought to your recollection will scarcely be thought feeble.
I had a house and establishment, which, my family being dispersed, were a heavy and unnecessary expense; my debts were
great, and several of them of so long standing that I remembered
them with a poignant anxiety, neither were my creditors, however
they might forbear to dun me, entirely satisfied.  These debts
could only be discharged by the sale of my effects, and the
breaking up of w:hat was become in my opinion an immoral
establishment, to support which I subjected myself to unnecessary
labours, turmoils, and obligations. Persecuted at the Theatre as
I continually have been from the appearance of 'Love's Frailties',
whenever a piece was known to be mine, what could I do better
than disappear from the scene, and no longer excite malice or,.nger, call it which you will, that I could not appease?  This
was my train of thoughts, this train of thinking you have often
witnessed, and in it, in my apprehension, you have acquiesced.
That I was the first to recommend, both in language and practice,
an unreserved communication, I well remember, and though
certainly it has not existed between us of late in the same high
and unspeakably gratifying degree it once did, its decline as far
as I am a judge did not begin with me. This decline had I think
two marked and decisive periods.  The first was that which
immediately preceded your marriage, and the second the lament



LETTERS TO HOLCROFT.


34v


able event by which it was terminated. The anguish of heart I
felt, first from the event itself, and afterwards from circumstances
which I cannot endure to repeat, was such as never can be forgotten. You will not, I am sure, wound me by saying I do want
or ever have wanted, since I have known your worth, confidence
in you. Question me on any possible subject, any act or thought
of my life, and I will answer you with the openness due to the
honesty of your intentions, and the sincerity exacted by truth.
No one, however, better understands than you do how impossible
it is to be totally unreserved on one side, where there is a
conviction of reserve being practised on the other. Of this you
have given a fine picture between your St. Leon and Marguerite.
That I shall never cease to have an unequivocal and active
friendship for you I am certain, and what I have said has been
accidentally drawn from me....        T. HOLCROFT."
William Godzin to Thomas Holcroft.
" POLYGON, SOMIERS TOWN, NEAR LONDON,
September 13/h, 1799.
" DEAR HOLCROFT.-I know I have been guilty of what the
world calls a crime, in suffering your letter to be so long by me
unanswered. But for this you were prepared: you knew there
were few offices I loathed more than that of sitting down to write,
without having my mind previously filled with some subject on
which to discourse. I come to the employment with the utmost
repugnance; and I hate myself, and for the moment half hate my
correspondent, all the time I am engaged in it. I believe this is
a defect; but there are some propensities in the mind, whether
taking their date from before or after the period of birth, that to
say the least, almost surpass all human force to conquer. Supply
me with a subject, and I will discourse upon it most eloquently;
believe that scarcely a day passes without your being in my mind,
but do not expect me to amend.
" What could I have said? 'I bear you in the highest regard; I
think of you continually; I felt the loss of you an irreparable one.




346


WILLIAM GOD WINV

This and no more, however honest and cordial, discovering itself
in the folds of a letter, would have looked dry and repulsive. It
would have been still worse, if I had made you pay postage for it
a second time. I did not like to enter on the point which makes
the principal topic of your letter. If I had I could have shewn,
demonstratively to my apprehension, that the breach of confidence
and reserve came first on your part. This I might perhaps never
have known, but for Mrs Inchbald. I afterwards discovered it in
other instances. This was the true St Leon and Marguerite point
between us; you date it too low.
"I should have been much mortified if my friend Arnot had
taken your advice and returned to England. It would have
snapped the series, and broken the goodly harmony of his undertaking. I always thought, and his manuscript confirms me in the
opinion, that he was happily formed for a traveller, and I have
never been able to repent that I encouraged his purpose. There
is nothing relative to the publication of his remarks that may not
be managed full as well in his absence; wherever he was, he must
have subsisted in the meantime, and subsistence, as I take it, is as
cheap on the continent as here.
"I am glad that you treated him kindly; I can perceive that it
had a good effect on him. In some things indeed you failed; in
your marginal annotations you were too rude and harsh, especially
to a stranger. In one place you say 'This is the knave's morality.'
'rhis he took considerably in dudgeon; you had not been long
enough acquainted with him to be able to form a regard for the
author, distinct from his work. Mrs Cole, he says, treated him
with the most supercilious neglect; in that case I am more sorry
for her than for him. Observe, neither of these things were
mentioned in his letter to me, but are merely noted in his private
journal put down every night,'which he has sent me. I know that
according to the maxims of the world, I am guilty of a breach of
decorum in mentioning them to you. But I think one of the
crying sins of society is that we do not sufficiently explain our
feelings to one another, and I am willing to make this solitary
experiment whether it will not do more good than harm.




NEGO TIA TIONS WITH BOOKSELLERS.


347


" No alteration, so far as I have observed, has taken place in the
politics or tone of this island, since you left it. If there had, I
should be almost afraid to state it. Parliament is to meet on the
24th instant, a period uncommonly early.
"Nicholson, Col. Barry, and Opie (your friend, no friend of
mine) are well. I have seen the two latter once, the former
several times, since your absence. I am unable to say whether
his school will succeed; it goes on, like its master, at a slow and
German-sort of a pace, but he appears sanguine..
"You say nothing in this new communication by means of
Arnot respecting my novel. I could send you another volume:
there will be four.
"You are so anxious with your machine to get a legible copy of
your letter, that you make a very devil of the original, and one has
scarcely courage to attempt to decipher it.  You water it too
copiously.
"The above letter is to Mr Holcroft; but as he may not be at
Hamburgh, and I would not willingly lose a moment in transmitting the enclosed ~20 to Mr Arnot, I have addressed it so that
Mr Cole may open it, who, I am happy to hear by Mr A., is well
Advise me of the receipt.                  W. GODWIN."
The letter is addressed, "Mr Cole, Ioo Catherinen Strasse,
Hamburgh."
Thomas Holcroft to William Godwzin.
"HAMBURG, CA'HERINEN STRASSE, Ioo, Nov. 22znd, I799.
"... Do not imagine you have been long out of my thoughts.
Your novel, your tragedy, your well-being and happiness in every
sense, are the frequent and serious subjects of recollection.
Having made four at least fruitless attempts in Hamburg to
make the first productive of some small gain to you, I hoped to
have been more successful at Berlin, where I am told the booksellers are more liberal an(t enterprising. Two men of considerable literary merit here have read it, and, after considerable praise
of the style, have pronounced it cold and uninteresting: at least




Z48


WILLIAM GOD WAIN.


they plead, when I endeavour to controvert them, as far as they
are judges of the taste of readers in Germany. I have not read it
since I left England, but the impression it then made cannot have
been so entirely false as for their decision to be entirely true,
though I never felt satisfied with your choice of a subject. In
your last I learned with pleasure you have extended it to four
volumes, for I suppose you would not have done this, had you not
found incidents and passion grow upon you, and where these are,
success must be.
" For your Tragedy I am still more, I may say, irritably anxious.
I saw it only in its half-finished state. Give me the history of its
theatrical progress. When is it to be performed? What are your
feelings? Do you remain thoroughly concealed? Are you yet
thoroughly under the scourge of Managerial tyranny? I am very
desirous to hear this, and anything else you can tell- me on the
subject.... Let me know if Opie has received my pictures, what
you think of them, and what he and others say. In my opinion,
the 'Guide' is a masterpiece, though it will not appear so, perhaps, till it has been deeply considered...  Care has been taken
of young Arnot.                            T. HOLCROFT."
The expressions about the pictures refer to a scheme of
Holcroft's of buying art treasures at a cheap rate abroad,
and sending them home for sale. It is scarcely necessary
to say that he was about as successful as amateur buyers
usually are when in competition with professional dealers.
The Same to the Same.
"HAMBURG, December 13th, 1799.
"... My second motive for writing relates to yourself. I became acquainted here with a man of letters who wished to translate your novel, but who could not find a bookseller that approved
the undertaking. This gentleman, whose name is Bulow, is now
at Berlin, and I have received a letter from him to-day, to inform
me that a publisher of that city, named Unger, will give ten




VOLAE Y'S RUINS.3S.


349


guineas if I will send him the sheets I have, and the remainder
as soon as possible. The novel being now published, I made no
difficulty of answering by to-day's post that I would accept the
terms; and I hope I have acted as you would have advised.
Bulow himself is a man of indifferent character; I therefore wrote
that the copy should be delivered on payment of the money, of
which, the moment it is received, you shall have notice, and
either a draft on London, or payment by some other means. Do
not, therefore, neglect to send me the remaining sheets, with a
copy inclosed for myself.
" Being at this distance, my heart revolts at concluding without
signing myself-Ever and ever affectionately yours,
"' T. HOLCROFT."
The following extract, which ends for the year the correspondence between the friends, is interesting for the mention
of an almost forgotten book and its translator, but which
once produced a profound sensation.  It is curious, too, as
showing the extreme difficulty of holding any communication between England and France:Williamn Godwin to Thomas Holcroft.
December 31, 1799.
"...Mr Marshal desires me to add that he has conceived
the intention of writing to Volney, who is now at Paris, and printing, as we understand, his travels in America, to request him, upon
the strength of having been the translator of his 'Ruins of Empires'-a translation which has been very successful and much
praised here-to send him, if he felt no impropriety in it, the
sheets of his present work before publication.  But our laws
relative to corresponding with an enemy are so complicated and
severe, that Mr Marshal, upon trial, has found it impracticable to
send his letter. He thinks it not impracticable that, through
Pougens, you might effect his object for him. He observes that
the reputation of Volney as a traveller has been so puffed by




350


WILLIAM GOD WIN.


Gibbon and others, and is consequently so unprecedentedly high,
that, if he could obtain the work in time, he would think of publishing the translation on his own account."
Godwin was still extremely anxious to make up his
quarrel with Mrs Inchbald. He sent her a copy of his
novel, "St Leon," with a letter requesting a renewal of the
old friendly intercourse. After giving her reasons for
delay in reading it, the seeing a new play through the
press, and other engagements, and after.a promise to give
her sincere opinion on his work, she continuesMrs Inchbald to W;illiam Godzwin.
"LEICESTER SQUARE, Wednesday morning, 4th Dec. I799.
"..  In respect to the other subject, you judged perfectly
right that I could not have expressed any resentment against you,
for I have long ago felt none. I also assure you that it will
always give me great pleasure to meet you in company with others,
but to receive satisfaction in your society as a familiar visitor at
my own house I never can.
" Impressions made on me are lasting. Your conversation and
manners were once agreeable to me, and will ever be so. But
while I retain the memory of all your good qualities, I trust you
will allow me not to forget your bad ones; but warily to guard
against those painful and humiliating effects, which the event of my
singular circumstances might once again produce.-Your admirer
and friend,                               E. INCHBALD."
Three weeks later she sent an elaborate and very clever
critique on "St Leon," written with some bitterness, but it
dwells too much on details to be interesting to the general
reader, who has not the work in his mind.
That Godwin, in spite of his own difficulties, had sent
~20 to Arnot has been already recorded in his own letter.




LIBERAL CHARITY.


35r


There are other indications of large and self-denying
charity, extending to most distant and unexpected quarters.
One such is a letter from Mrs Agnes Hall, of Jedburgh,
acknowledging the receipt of ~0o for some poor lady whose
name is not mentioned, in which Mrs Hall says that,
" though grief like my friend's can admit of no remedy, yet
your judicious bounty was a means, by enabling her to
procure the necessary comforts to her dying children, of
preventing that grief from becoming absolute despair."
The name of James Ballantyne, the Edinburgh printer,
needs no note.    The Dr Bell whom     he introduces to
Godwin was probably Dr James Bell of Edinburgh, who
died in Jamaica in I8oI, and is still remembered by his
writings on professional subjects.
Yames Ballantyne to WTilliam Godwin.
"KELSO, Nov. 14, I799.
" SIR,-About three years ago there dined in your company at
Mr Holcroft's, introduced by the late Mr Armstrong, a young man
from Scotland, on whose mind your wisdom and benevolent condescension have left impressions of affection and gratitude, which
no time will efface. The writer of this letter is the person so
delightfully distinguished: but as he is sensible that an interview
which constituted so prominent a period of his life may long ere
this have melted into the common mass of uninteresting events
which consume your time without attracting your attention, he
begs leave to mention a circumstance which may recall him to
your memory.   He promised to send up to London a distinguished portrait, which promise remains to this day unfulfilled.
He was not to blame that on enquiry he found every impression
of that portrait was sold off; but he severely condemns the
mingled indolence and timidity which prevented him from stating
that circumstance to account for apparent neglect.




352


WILLIAMl GODWIAN.


"The customs which fetter man in his intercourse with his
fellows do not justify this tardy intrusion on your leisure; but
these customs Mr Godwin will disregard when they interfere with
his power of communicating instruction and extending happiness.
The gentleman who wvill deliver this letter is Doctor Bell, an
amiable and accomplished physician, whose mind since his
earliest perusal of your writings, has been filled with the most
exalted respect for your talents, and affection for your heart.
"The Jamaica fleet which sails in a few days, conveys him
from his country, perhaps for ever. His situation will be one of
high influence and authority, and I know he will exert his power
to lighten the woes and diminish the horrors of slavery. Once
only will he be able to avail himself of this introduction, but to
see and converse, for however short a time, with Mr Godwin, will
prove a source of pleasure, both in enjoyment and reflection, which
he cannot leave his native soil without endeavouring to attain.
It is no common motive which would incline me to trespass thus
on your leisure.
"I beg to be considered, my dear sir, with the utmost respect
and affection, your obliged friend,
"JAMES BALLANTYNE."
" One line from you to say you forgive what the world would term
my presumption would give me supreme pleasure. I confess I
would rather be assured of this by yourself, than by the report of
my friend."
A few lines from the good old lady at West Dalling
contain the only domestic facts worth recording
MIrs Godwin sen. to William Godtwin.
[WOOD DALLING], "Sep. 2Ist, '99.
"DEAR WM.-I hope yo recd a letter from me dated 5 July
by ye hand of yr- sister. I wish you happy. If you be not
I shall have ye sattisfaction in my ovwn mind that I have tryed
to make yo so.




SALE OF DALLING.


353


"Terms are agreed upon to sell Dalling Estate to yr. brother
Hull, that he may not be thrown out of business when I die with
his young family which he must mortgage. What will be yr shares
I don't know yet the notes each have given will be considered as
past and disstroyed. Is all I can say at present. I have wrote a
few lines to John yo may show yours to him if yo please. Have
not wrote to Jo. or Hanh. because ye affair is not finish'd.," yr. affec. Mother,
" A. GODWIN."
"I'm sorry to put yO to this expense, however its not necessary
yo shoud write till yo hear from me again."
"MY DEAR WI — Since the above I've recieved yr. very kind
letter of ye i6 Sep.  The little dear boy Johny's arm was not
out, and was quite well in a day or two. Your bro. Nath came
home ye 7 of July, very poorly indeed, went to Norwich next
day for advice of Dr. Alderson, whose prescription with the
blessing of God was of service. He returned in 3 weeks to his
place again, repeated the physick several times, is better, but fear
he will never get clear of his laxating dissorder, but like John
wishes to be in buissness for himself but fear he will not be- a
good ecconomist, especially without a good wife, and they are as
hard to be met with as farms. However its the last I can do for
him in my life time. Your share and John's will fall short of a
Hundred, Natt's and Hull's a little more, Hanh.'s least of all,
because she have had most. I purpose clearing of that I gave to
Wright, on Jo's account I should have said, and White the former
is dead a year or two agoe insolvent, the latter broke lately. I'm
not sure I shall not send this in a parcel to Hanh. If I do I shall
write a few lines to her. I do put much trust in your advice and
management for John and vour sister, who has always told me you
was a father to her.'


I.


z




CHAPTER XIII.


VISIT TO IRELAND-LITERARY SQ UABBLES. 1800oo.
GODWIN'S acquaintance with Coleridge rapidly increased,
and had now developed into a most cordial and confidential friendship. It will be remembered that Coleridge
was the fourth and- last of those persons whom Godwin
names as having made on him a profound intellectual
impression.  The change of thought and view which
he attributed to Coleridge coincided, however, with that
which was brought about also by other causes. He had
recommenced the habit, now for some time laid aside, of
placing on paper the results of his constant self-introspection. He examined the state of his belief, and the
causes of his mental change, and then are recorded, truly
enough as it would seem, other influences contemporaneous
with that of Coleridge. The extract which immediately
follows was written indeed some years later, though it
chronicles the reading which mainly occupied him about
this time.
"A great epocha, or division in my life, which may as well
deserve to be recorded as almost any other event, is that at which
I began to read the old English authors. This was in 1799-1800oy
when I had completed my forty-third year.
"During the term of my college life, from 1773 to 1778, I
endeavoured to take a survey of the world of knowledge, and to
select the branches to which in preference I should devote my




AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL FRAGMENT.


355


attention, I was deeply impressed with the maxim that art is long,
and life is short. My judgment dictated to me that it would be
best to read few things but to read them well. In fact life is to a
young man entering on the era of manhood, a term of ten or twenty
years; to look further than that with any certainty, and as to a
period in which given things are to be done, seems deviating into
the visionary and romantic.
" I resolved to read the classics; but I purposed to confine
myself to a few of the greater classics, Virgil, Horace, Cicero, Livy,
Sallust, and Tacitus, among the Romans, and Homer, Sophocles,
Xenophon, Herodotus and Thucydides among the Greeks. I
considered this list as admitting of enlargement, but such was the
general outline.
" It is surprising how much men are guided in their whole plan
of life by a few external circumstances-the creatures of accident.
I was brought up to a profession, that of a preacher among the
dissenters. This I was verylikelyto exercise, at least at first, in a rural
situation. My pecuniary means were much confined; my income
was likely to be small; I should have few books. On this account
I was well pleased with this plan of classical reading, in which, as
my education in this branch of knowledge had been a very imperfect one, one author might last me for six months.
" The same principle that guided me in the field of classical
reading, was of still more obvious and necessary application in the
literature of my own country. Contemplating the immense library
that might be filled with our vernacular authors, I resolved that my
reading should be select; and one of the first rules I was induced
to adopt was, that I would, for the most part, confine my reading
to our modern authors. History was a study to which I felt a
particular vocation; and I should say now what I thought then,
that the modem writers of history in English are eminently superior
to their predecessors. Their narrative is more free and unincum.
bered; they have more taste; their views are more extensive; they
philosophise better on the principles of evidence and the progress
and vicissitudes of human society. One of the first trials of comparison I was prompted to make, was between Hume and the




356


WILLIAM GOD WIN.


English translation of Rapin; and, to be sure, there can scarcely
be a comparison in which all the advantage is more clearly on one
side. I believe I should hardly have found the superiority of the
modems to the ancients so decisive in any other department as in
this of history. The result of my feelings and habits in this kind
is strikingly exhibited in the Essay on English Style, at the close of
the 'Enquirer,' written when I was forty.
" A rule of study which I adopted at College, and adhered to
with exceptions and interruptions for many years, was to divide
my day into several parts, adapting a particular species of study to
each part. Thus there was not a day passed in which I did not
read a portion, first of the Greek, and then of the Roman classics,
another part of the day was appropriated to metaphysics, theology,
and books of reasoning, a third to history, and so forward. This
habit was very beneficial in giving system to my mind and clearness to my reasonings.
" It was not till i799 that I broke in upon my rule of confining
my English reading principally to the moderns. The only considerable exception to this rule was Shakespeare. That was an
exception hardly to be avoided by a native of this island. At the
period I have mentioned, and often before, my thoughts were
turned to the Drama, and I had designed, if my talents had been
found sufficient for the undertaking, to look to it as one of my
sources of subsistence. About this time I got possession of a copy
of Beaumont and Fletcher; and looking into them at first with
reference to the object I had in view, I found in them a source of
sentiment and delight of which I had not before had the smallest
conception. This opened upon me a new field of improvement
and pleasure, and engaged me in a course of reading which, from
that hour [to i8131, I have never deserted.
" I soon felt that I had gained an uncommon advantage from
this discovery made at this time. While I was at College, I had
thought that art is long and ihfe is shor. In the course of years
that had elapsed since, I had sometimes felt inclined to alter my
mind: in other words, I had felt that the scheme of reading I had
prescribed to myself was rather too narrow. I remember, when I




AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL FRAGMENT.


357


was a very little boy, saying to myself, ' What shall I do, when I
have read through all the books that there are in the world?' and
my sensation in this limited application of the question was now
somewhat similar. I had gradually a little enlarged my plan in the
matter of classical reading.
"But on the present occasion a new world was opened to me.
It was as if a mighty river had changed its course to water the
garden of my mind. I was like a person who, for many years, had
subsisted on a slender annuity, and had now an immense magazine
of wealth bequeathed to him. I looked over the inventory of my
fortune, and felt that these treasures would never be exhausted.
This illustration does not come up to the idea I felt, that everything enumerated in this inventory was new, and that I was, therefore, suddenly put in possession of a museum of untried delights.
What a blessing for a man at forty-three years of age, a period at
which we are threatened with the blunting of some of the senses
from the monotonous repetition of their gratifications, to enter into
the lease of a new life, where everything would be fresh, and everything would be young!"
Such were his recollections of this time some thirteen
years later, but they have about them a ring of truth, which
shows they were as genuine as unforgotten. Here is also
another note, undated, but probably somewhat earlier than
the last, which records the change in his religious creed.
" In my thirty-first year I became acquainted with Mr Thomas
Holcroft, and it was probably in consequence of our mutual con- 7"
versations that I became two years after an unbeliever, and in my V
thirty-sixth year an atheist.
" In my forty-fourth year I ceased to regard the name of Atheist
with the same complacency I had done for several preceding
years, at the same time retaining the utmost repugnance of understanding for the idea of an intelligent Creator and Governor of
the universe, which strikes my mind as the most irrational and
ridiculous anthropomorphism.  My theism, if such I may be




358


3W/ILLIAM GOD WIN.


permitted to call it, consists in a reverent and soothing contemplation of all that is beautiful, grand, or mysterious in the system
of the universe, and in a certain conscious intercourse and correspondence with the principles of these attributes, without attempting the idle task of developing and defining it —into this train of
thinking I was first led by the conversations of S. T. Coleridge."
A fragment of an analysis of his own character, not
merely looking back upon, but actually written about this
time, will serve to give other indications of what Godwin
now was, subject, however, to the unavoidable drawback,
that no man, however desirous of truth, is a fair judge of
himself.
" Why does a man feel any degree of eagerness to expose his
character to the world? For the most part it is a disclosure made
to enemies, who will study it for purposes of degradation, and to
find, if the writer acquired any degree of applause, that it was impossible he should have owed it to his merit. Such a disclosure
is, however, of high value; it adds to the science of the human
mind, and, by the operation of comparison, enables each reader to
make an estimate of himself.
" A timorous advocate, both of men and opinions, on individual
occasions-afraid to advance opinions lest I should be unable to
support them-always beginning with a kind of skirmishing war.
This owing to frequent miscarriage, and experience of my own
inaccuracy.
"Too sceptical, too rational, to be uniformly zealous. Nervous
of frame, mutable of opinion, yet in some things courageous and
inflexible.
"So fond of disinterestedness and generosity that everything in
which these are not has always been insipid to me-inextinguishably loving admiration and fame, yet scarcely in any case envious.
Habitually disposed to do justice to the merits of others; never
depreciating an excellence I felt, and eager for the discovery of
excellence, yet in some cases too languid an assertor of it-ever
addicted to reflection and reasoning, frequently to ardour.




ANALYSIS OF CHARACTER.


359


"I am extremely modest. What is modesty?    First, I am
tormented about the opinions others may entertain of me; fearful
of intruding myself, and of co-operating to my own humiliation.
For this reason I have been, in a certain sense, unfortunate through
life, making few acquaintances, losing them in limine, and by my
fear producing the thing I fear. I am bold and adventurous in
opinions, not in life; it is impossible that a man with my diffidence
and embarrassment should be. This, and perhaps only this,
renders me often cold, uninviting, and unconciliating in society.
Past doubt, if I were less solicitous for the kindness of others, I
should have oftener obtained it.
"I am anxious to avoid giving pain, yet, when I have undesignedly given it, I am sometimes drawn on, from the painful
sensation-that the having done what we did not intend occasions,
to give more.
" My nervous character-to give it a name, if not accurate, well
understood-often deprives me of self-possession, when I would
repel injury or correct what I disapprove. Experience of this
renders me, in the first case, a frightened fool, and in the last, a
passionate ass; in both my heart palpitates and my fibres tremble;
the spring of mental action is suspended; I cannot deliberate or
take new ground; and all my sensations are pain and aversionaversion to the party, impatience with myself. This refers merely
to active scenes, not to 'colloquial disquisition; in the latter my
temper is one of the soundest and most commendable I ever
knew.
" Perhaps one of the sources of my love of admiration and fame
has been my timidity and embarrassment.  I am unfit to be
alone in a crowd, in a circle of strangers, in an inn, almost in a
shop. I hate universally to speak to the man that is not previously desirous to hear me. I carry feelers before me, and am
often hindered from giving an opinion, by the man who spoke
before giving one whollyadverse to mine.
" I am subject to sensations of fainting, particularly at the sight
of wounds, bodily infliction, and pain: perhaps this may have
some connection with my intellectual character.


I




360


T30ILLIAM GODWIN.


" I am feeble of tact, and occasionally liable to the grossest
mistakes respecting theory, taste, and character; the latter experience corrects the former consideration; but this defect has made'
me too liable to have my judgment modified by the judgment of
others; not instantaneously perhaps, but by successive impulses.
I am extremely irresolute in matters apparently trivial, which occa-_
sionally leads to inactivity, or subjects me to the being guided by
others.
"I have a singular want of foresight on some occasions as to the
effect what I shall say will have on the person to whom it is
addressed. I therefore often appear rude, though no man can be
freer from rudeness of intention, and often get a character for
harshness that my heart disowns.
" I can scarcely ever begin a conversation where I have no preconceived subject to talk of; in these cases I have recourse to
topics the most trite and barren, and my memory often refuses to
furnish even these. I have met a man in the street who was liable
to the same infirmity; we have stood looking at each other for the
space of a minute, each listening for what the other would say, and
have parted without either uttering a word.
" There are many persons that have gone out of life without
enjoying it-that is not my case. I have enjoyed most of the
pleasures it affords. I know that at death there is an end of all,
but I have not lived in vain for myself; I hope not for others.
" There is an evenness of temper in me that greatly contributes
to my cheerfulness and happiness; whatever sources of pleasure I
encounter, I bring a great part of the entertainment along with
me; I spread upon them the hue of my own mind, and am satisfied. Yet I am subject to long fits of dissatisfaction and discouragement; this also seems to be constitutional. At all times agreeable company has an -omnipotent effect upon me, and raises me
from the worst tone of mind to the best.
" No domestic connection is fit for me but that of a person who
should habitually study my gratification and happiness; in that
case I should certainly not yield the palm of affectionate attentions
to my companion. In the only intimate connection of that kind




LITERAR Y BEGINNIANGVS


36i


I ever had, the partner of my life was too quick in conceiving
resentments; but they were dignified and restrained; they left no
hateful and humiliating remembrances behind them, and we were  i
as happy as- is permitted to human beings. It must be remembered, however, that I honoured her intellectual powers, and the
nobleness and generosity of her propensities; mere tenderness would
not have been adequate to produce the happiness we experienced.
"If it is curious to observe those propensities of the mind
which appear so early that philosophers dispute whether they
date their origin from before or after the period of birth, it is no
less curious to remark how much is indisputably to be attributed
to the empire of circumstances.  I had an early passion for  ~4
literary distinction, but an extreme uncertainty as to the species
of literature by which it was to be attained. Poetry may be said
to have been my first, my boyish passion. Afterwards, abandoning poetry, I hesitated between history and moral philosophy,
dreading -that I had not enough of elaborate exactness for the
former, or of original conception for the latter. My first attempt,
in 1782, a very wretched attempt, was history. To this I was
immediately, and at the time reluctantly, spurred by the want of
money. In I790 I wrote a tragedy on the story of St Dunstan,
which has since been laid aside. In 1791 I planned and begun
my 'Political Justice.' In I793 I commenced my ' Caleb
Williams,' with no further design than that of a slight composition, to produce a small supply of money, but never to be
acknowledged: it improved and acquired weight in the manufacture. To the choice of each of these kinds of composition I was
more or less determined by mercantile considerations. If I had
been perfectly at my ease in this respect, I cannot tell when I
should have gravely attempted original composition, and in what
species of literature.
"My mind, though fraught with sensibility, and occasionally
ardent and enthusiastic, is perhaps in its genuine habits too
tranquil and unimpassioned for successful composition, and
stands greatly in need of stimulus and excitement  I am deeply
indebted in this point to Holcroft."




362


3WILLIAM GOD WI1.


These observations are but fragmentary, and the remainder is lost. In some points Godwin's knowledge of
self is remarkable; in others it may be doubted whether
his extreme minuteness of detail did not lead him astray
in regard to the whole truth of his picture.
The Diary for this year throws some light on a portion
of the above. His tendency to faintness seems to have
increased about this time to a somewhat alarming extent,,and there are frequent notices of "deliquium" as having
taken place when he was in society as well as when alone.
In the early part of the year Coleridge was in London, and
the intercourse between the two friends was constant, while
during the rest of the time it was maintained by very
frequent letters. With Lamb also Godwin became now
intimate; and there are many notes of suppers at Lamb's
and at the Polygon, where are also to be found the names
of all that circle of friends known to the readers of "Lamb's
Life and Letters." There was indeed scarcely a name
of any literary, artistic, or theatrical eminence, that does
not appear in these brief notes as among Godwin's circle.
In May I8oo Mrs Reveley married Mr Gisborne. The
engagement was kept a profound secret from all but the
family of the gentleman, and from Mr and Mrs Fenwick,
old friends both of Mrs Reveley and of the Godwins. It was
not only a severe blow to Godwin, who had never abandoned the hope that he might overcome the lady's objections to a marriage with him, but he was greatly wounded
at having been kept in the dark. What he felt, however, can
only be gathered, not from any words of his own, but from
Mr Fenwick's manly and sensible letters to him, excusing
himself from any unfriendliness in having kept a secret




TOUR LV IRELAND.


363


which Mrs Reveley had a right to require him to keep.
Friendly relations were afterwards renewed, but Godwin
was not sorry to make a longer tour than usual during this
year-to accept Curran's invitation to Ireland, in the hope
of driving from his thoughts a sentiment which was probably
much deeper than any he had ever felt, except his love for
Mary Wollstonecraft.
In July he went to Ireland, after repeated invitations, of
which the following is a sample:7. P. Curran to William Godwin.
"DUBLIN, J7une 8t, i8oo.... I have yet two months to remain here. I am too much
of a slave to have as much of your company as I would wish, but
I will treat you with perfect candour, and promise you that I will
act as your host as I would as your guest. I have an house in
town and a cottage in the country within three miles of it; a spare
bed in each, books in each, and a bottle of wine in each, and in
each you will find the most absolute power of doing what you
please as to idling, working, walking, eating, sleeping, &c. There
are many here that know you in print, and are much pleased with
the hope I have given them of knowing you in person. One of
them, Lady Mountcashel, who is now settled in Dublin for the
summer, speaks of you with peculiar regard, mixed with a tender
and regretful retrospect to past times and to past events with
which you have yourself been connected.
"Let me add, this is the pleasantest time of the year. The
journey is but little: a sit down in a mail-coach and a ferry brings
a philosopher, six shirts, his genius and his hat upon it, from
London to Dublin, et vice versa, in fifty-four hours. I think, too,
you would feel a curiosity to see a nation in its last moments.
You would think that slavery is no such fearful thing as you have
supposed in theory. I assure you our trees and our fields are as
green as ever. Thus have I stated the pjro and con with as much
fairness as can be expected from a person so much interested in




364


WILLIAlI GOD WIN.


your decision. If, therefore, it does not interfere with some material
object or engagement, in the name of God, even trust yourself
to the hospitality of these Irish barbarians, with whom your nation
is about to communicate her freedom and her wealth. One word
or two more on this subject, which, as an old traveller, I may
speak with some authority. There are only two things that make
a journey a grievance, preparation and luggage.  During the
former, a man travels it over a thousand times, instead of once;
and travelling in idea is a thousand times more tiresome than
travelling in fact. Say to me, then, by a line, that I may put your
sheets to the fire. If you land here in the night, you will find
your bed ready at No. i2 Ely Place at any hour....
"Will you give my very kind respects to Mrs Inchbald, if you
should see her?-Yours truly,          JOHN P. CURRAN."
He also visited Skeys and Lady Mountcashel, by both
of whom he was cordially welcomed; and at the house of
the first he again met the sisters of his wife, Everina Wollstonecraft and Mrs Bishop, on amicable if not wholly cordial
terms. He did not, however, go beyond the immediate
neighbourhood of Dublin, and was absent from London
less than six weeks, the last week or ten days having been
spent in a homeward tour in North Wales.
His own record of the tour is contained in letters to
Marshal, which follow without break, as they all relate to
the same subject.
William Godwin to y. Marshal.
[DUBLIN, yUly II, I800.]
"I received your letter this morning, four days from its date.
I forget now what I said in my last letter about the poor little
girls, but in this letter I will begin with them. Their talking about
me, as you say they do, makes me wish to be with them, and will
probably have some effect in inducing me to shorten my visit. It
is the first time I have been seriously separated from them since




LETTERS FROM IRELAND.


365


they lost their mother, and I feel as if it was very naughty in me
to have come away so far, and to have put so much land, and a
river sixty miles broad; between us, though, as you know, I had
very strong reasons for coming. I hope you have got Fanny a
proper spelling-book. Have you examined her at all, and discovered what improvement she has made in her reading? You do
not tell me whether they have paid and received any visits. If it
does not take much room in your next letter, I should be very
glad to hear of that. Tell Mary I will not give her away, and she
shall be nobody's little girl but papa's. Papa is gone away, but
papa will very soon come back again, and see the Polygon across
two fields from the trunks of the trees at Camden Town. Will
Mary and Fanny come to meet me? I will write them word, if I
can, in my next letter or the letter after that, when and how it
shall be. Next Sunday, it will be a fortnight since I left them, and
I should like if possible to see them on the Sunday after Sunday
2oth July....
William Godwin to Y. Marshal.
[DUBLIN, Aug. 2, 80oo.]
"Mrs Elwes tells me in her letter that I shall be at home on
the 3d of August. Probably she had the intelligence from you.
From what premisses the conclusion was drawn I know not, but I
am apprehensive it will prove in some measure erroneous. My
original purpose was to have quitted Dublin the 27th of July, last
Saturday, and exactly four weeks from the day I quitted London.
I am now writing on Saturday, the 2d of August, one week later,
and am seated quietly in Mr Curran's bookroom, in his rural
retreat he visits from Dublin. It was originally proposed between
him and me that the week now concluding should be spent in an
excursion to Wexford, whither he expected to be called for the
assizes. That expectation has been frustrated, and he has now
prevailed on me to attend him to the assizes at Carlow, and has
promised that I shall be on board the packet for England on
Thursday evening, the 7th inst. That Thursday, however, will
probably be Friday. I then propose, as I believe I have told you




366


3WTILLIAM GOD VWIN


already, to walk three days amidst the natural and almost unrivalled beauties of N. Wales, and have a letter of introduction from
Mr Grattan to Lady Harriet Butler and Miss Di Ponsonby, two
old maids in the vale of Llangollen, with whom I propose to
spend a couple of hours. I shall, however, certainly endeavour to
give you precise notice of the time of my arrival at the trunks of
the trees, which I can at any time by despatching a line from any
part of N. Wales, twenty-four hours before I quit it in person...
"I wish also that you would write to Arnot immediately,
poste-restante, at Fiinfkirchen, if there is any chance of your letter
reaching its destination in time to cheer the beloved wanderer.
Tell him of my absence from London, tell him of my increasing
affection and anxiety for his welfare, tell him of my increasing
admiration and respect for his narrative. Beg him to give me
under his hand an explicit permission to publish his journal in
case of any unhappy accident to himself, and an approbation
beforehand of my conduct, whatever it shall happen to be. Keep
a copy of your letter.
"I have kept pretty good company here. Last Wednesday I
dined with three countesses-Countess-dowager Moira (it was at
her house), Earl and Countess Granard, and Countess Mountcashel, and on Sunday I am to dine at Lady Mountcashel's. I
mean to call on Lady Moira the moment I have quitted this
letter. But I have not yet seen either Grattan or Ponsonby.
They are however, I believe, to dine with us at Mr Curran's barn
(as he calls it) to-morrow. He wishes me to go with him to the
assizes at Wexford, but that I believe I must decline. They are
in the beginning of August. Hitherto there have been daily
sittings of the courts of law, and I see nothing of him from breakfast till five o'clock. This will last ten days longer, and I wish
much to spend one week with this charming creature when he is
at full leisure. On that computation I shall not cross the channel
till about the 28th inst.
"I am fully sensible to your care of my children and my establishment. Every minute particular that you will be so good as to
write to me respecting them will be highly gratifying.....




LETTERS FROM IRELAND.


367


"I depute to Fanny and Mr Collins, the gardener, the care of
the garden. Tell her I wish to find it spruce, cropped, weeded,
and mowed at my return; and if she can save me a few strawberries and a few beans without spoiling, I will give her six kisses
for them. But then Mary must have six kisses too, because Fanny
has six.
" It would be highly gratifying if on my return I could find the
elaborate repairs and papering of my house finished, the gardendoor erected, and the household linen ready for use. Do not
forget the directions of this or my preceding letter, though they
should not be repeated in any of my subsequent ones..
The Same to the Same.
"DUBLIN, Aug. 2, i8OO.
"I begin another letter immediately on despatching its predecessor, as much, I believe, by way of recording my own feelings
and.adventures, as with a view to any amusement you may derive
from the narration. Two persons, as you know, exclusive of Mr
Curran, I was particularly desirous of seeing in Ireland, Mr Grattan and the Countess of Mountcashel. This desire I have had a
reasonable opportunity of gratifying; and, in addition to this,
have been a spectator of a considerable portion of most interesting
scenery, which was not in my contemplation when I left England.
I saw Mr Grattan, for the first time in Ireland, at Mr Curran's
country house, on Saturday the 12th of July, ten days after my
arrival at Dublin. He then dined with us, but it was a numerous
company, that afforded me very little opportunity of diving into
his characteristic qualities. The next day, however, we went over
to Grattan's own house, where we arrived in the evening, and slept
that and the succeeding night. Mr Curran was obliged on Monday morning to go to Dublin to attend the courts, in consequence
of which I had Grattan almost, though not entirely, to myself till
dinner-time, when Curran and another person, his companion,
returned from Dublin, about i8 English miles. The Sunday of
this week I had dined at Lady Mountcashel's, about the same distance from Dublin, and 4 miles from Grattan, in company with




368


VWILLIAM GOD WIN.


Mr Curran. These two days, July I3, 14, were the first time in
which I saw any of the beautiful scenery with which Ireland, and
especially the county of Wicklow, abounds. I was particularly
struck with a scene they call the Scalp, which has, I think, a finer
effect than Penmanmawr in N. Wales, as in this latter instance
you pass between two vast acclivities of rocks, with immense
fragments broken off, and tumbled round you to the right and
the left.
"With this quantity of gratification I might have rested satisfied. No more than this obtruded itself on my acceptance. But
I invited myself to a second and a third dinner with Lady Mountcashel, July 2I and 28, and a second at Grattan's, July 29. On
the 28th, Lady Mountcashel conducted me in her cabriole to the
Devil's Glen, 20 or 30 miles from Dublin, and infinitely the most
stupendous scene I ever saw. You travel for at least a mile and
a half surrounded by rocks and mountains, varied and magnificent
in their form beyond all imagination, and with a current all the
way at the bottom, encumbered with stones of astonishing dimensions, and terminating at the further end in a grand waterfall,
which changes its,direction two or three times in the descent.
You are not here, as in a similar scene nearer Dublin, fettered and
hemmed in by the too great nearness of the opposing rocks, but,
while cut off, on the one hand, from the whole world, your soul
has room to expand in its desert, and savour its divinity. My
visit at Grattan's, July 29, was peculiarly fortunate. I spent two
mornings with him alone.
"And now let me recollect with what degree of kindness and
cordiality I have been received in this country. No one has been
ignorant who I was; to no one in that sense have I needed an
introduction; and by none, so far as I know, have I been received
with an unfavourable prepossession. Yet, believe me, I feel no
atom intoxicated by the kindness of this people. I am not aware
that I have been received with distinguishing or inordinate favour,
except by a few. The good opinion of Joseph Cooper Walker,
an Irish antiquarian, seems to have been marked with sufficient
explicitness. Hugh Hamilton, whom I conceive to be the most




LAZD Y MJOUNTCASHEL.


3(9


eminent' painter in Dublin, has shown himself enthusiastically
partial to me. Mr Curran's kindness has been satisfactory, cordial,
animated and unceasing. Grattan conversedwith me with perfect
familiarity, and answered me on all subjects without reserve, but
not one word of personal kindness and esteem towards me ever
escaped his lips. Let me observe by the way, that the characters
of the two most eminent personages of this country, though
sincere and affectionate friends to each other, are strongly contrasted. They are both somewhat limited in their information,
and are deficient in a profound and philosophical faculty of
thinking. They have both much genius. Grattan, I believe, is
generally admitted to be the first orator in the British dominions;
and variety and richness of picturesque delineation perpetually
mask the slightest sallies of Curran's conversation. But Grattan
is mild, gentle, polished, and urbane on every.occasion on which
I have seen him-; Curran is wild, ferocious, jocular, humorous,
mimetic and kittenish; a true Irishman, only in the vast portion
of soul that informs him, which of course a very ordinary Irishman
must be content to want. He is declamatory, and his declamation'
is apt to grow monotonous, so that I have once or twice on such
an occasion, felt inclined to question the basis of my admiration
for him, till a moment after a vein of genuine imagination and
sentiment burst upon me, and threw contempt and disgrace on my
scepticism. I have had the good fortune to hear from him a
speech of two hours, in the cause of Latten versus the publisher
of a. pamphlet by Dr Duigenan, which was tried a little before
in England, Erskine being advocate for the plaintiff.  Erskine
got   5oo0 damages and Curran 6d.; so disgracefully high does
the spirit of party, even in courts of law, run on this side the
water.
" Lady Mountcashel is a singular character: a democrat and a
republican in all their sternness, yet with no ordinary portion either
of understanding or good nature. If any of our comic writers
were to fall in her company, the infallible consequence would be
her being gibbetted in a play. She is uncommonly tall and brawny,
with bad teeth, white eyes, and a handsome countenance. She:
I.                      2


I.


2 A




570


~ WILLIAMi GOD IVIN.


commonly dresses, as I have seen Mrs Fenwick dressed out of
poverty, with a grey gown, and no linen visible; but with gigantic
arms, which she commonly folds, naked and exposed almost up to
the shoulders.
' "Monday, July I4, was rendered memorable here by the execution of Jemmy O'Brien, a notorious informer, for murder. He
had been accustomed, I am told, to sell warrants of imprisonment
on suspicion of treasonable practices for 2S. 6d. a-piece. Persons
came out of the country 30 and 40 miles barefoot to enjoy the
spectacle of his exit. One exclaimed, he was the death of my
husband, and another, my two brothers were brought to the gallows by his instrumentality. -An individual stationed himself on
the highest pinnacle in the neighbourhood, that the whole population, however remote, might join in one shout of deafening and
unbounded rapture the moment the scaffold sunk from under him.
For the rapture, however, you will observe that they were partially
indebted to the apprehension which both he and they entertained
to the last moment, that the government would interfere with a
pardon. When his execution was completed, his body was for a
few moments in the hands of the populace, and they tore away
fingers and toes with the utmost greediness, to preserve as precious
relics of their antipathy and revenge.
"I am exceedingly offended with Mrs Elwes for her fiction,
equally wilful and malicious, of a quarrel between me and Mrs
Robinson. There is not a shadow of foundation for it. I was
somewhat displeased with her (Mrs R.) the last time I saw her
for her copious vein of vulgar abuse against a quondam; most
despicable friend of hers, and endeavoured in vain to stop it, but
I scarcely imagined she was even sensible of the degree of pain
and displeasure she inspired.
" And now what shall I say for my poor little girls? I hope
they have not forgot me. I think of them every day, and should
be glad, if the wind was more favourable, to blow them a kiss
a-piece from Dublin to the Polygon. I have seen Mr Grattan's
little girls and Lady Mountcashel's little girls, and they are very
nice children, but I have seen none that I love half so well or




LETTER FROM WALES.


37r


think half so good as my own. I thank you a thousand times for
your care of them. I hope next summer, if I should ever again
be obliged to leave them for a week or two, that I shall write long
letters to Fanny in a fine print hand, and that Fanny will be able
to read them to herself from one end to the other. That will be
the summer i8oi."
The Same to the Same.
[IRELAND] " Aufg. 14, i8oo.
"I see by my memoranda that it is now near a fortnight since
I wrote to you last. On that day I wrote to you two letters,
both of which, I take it for granted, you have long before this
received. What I said in them I cannot now with exactness
recollect. I had, however, by that time made my contract with
Mr Curran to go to the assizes at Carlow, for which place we set
out, Sunday, Aug. 3, the day after I closed these letters. On our
road, we called on Mr Geo. Ponsonby.... We, however, only
spent an hour or an hour and a half at his house, and I saw no
more of him. At Carlow I was introduced to my Lord Judge,
Michael Kelly, Esq., eighty years of age, and by his invitation had
the honour to sit on the bench with him. Here we hanged a postmaster, worth by his own evidence - 1o000 a year, for opening letters
and robbing the mail (he was appointed for execution this morning), and procured an estate for a friend of Mr Curran, by setting
aside a last will in favour of the testator's relations, or a last
will but one, in behalf of their friend, who was no relation at all.
Poor old Kelly made a grand speech in summing up, the most ex
parte pleading I ever heard, the famousness and effort of which,
as I was assured, was all prepared for the ears of the author of ' St
Leon.' (N.B.-' St Leon' is a much greater favourite everywhere in
Ireland than' Caleb Williams.') These trials last two days. Tuesday and Wednesday, Aug. 5, 6, at Carlow I also made acquaintance with Mr Whaly, commonly called Buck (in the Irish idiom
Book) Whaly, who made himself famous, a few years ago, by
undertaking for a wager, to go to Jerusalem and return in the
space of 2 years. This man, as a traveller, is really a curiosity:




372


WILLIAAM GOD WIN.


he affirmed that Georgia was the capital of Circassia, and that
Mocsia (a province) was the original name of the ancient Byzantium (a city). We returned by a famous old monastic ruin called
the Seven Churches, and slept on Wednesday night at Hackets"
Town, lately distinguished for its flourishing streets, but of which
every house but two, including the church and the barracks, was
reduced to a heap of ruins by the late rebellion. We arrived at
the Seven Churches about 5 o'clock Thursday afternoon, when we
found neither inn, nor even alehouse, but a camp, the officers of
which, generously spying our distress, and hearing the name of
Counsellor Curran, supplied us, starving as we were, with dinner,
tea, supper, and bed. Friday, Aug. 8, we called for the last time
on Grattan, and arrived in Dublin to dinner. Saturday, I proposed starting for England, but the wind was contrary, and I was
prevailed on to stay till Monday (Sunday there is no packet), by
which I gained two days in Ireland, and lost but one day in England: for if I had sailed on Saturday, I could only have left Holyhead by the Tuesday morning's mail-coach, so tedious was their
passage: and, sailing on Monday I was in time, though the passage was 24 hours, for the Wednesday morning's mail. Wednesday, therefore, Aug. 13, at 4 A.M., I once more landed on my
beloved native isle. At 6 A.M. I got into the mail-coach, and
dined with the passengers at Conway at i P.M. There I left them,
being determined, as I told you before, to penetrate on foot
through some of the most delightful scenery of N. Wales. I slept
last night at Llanrwst (the w is pronounced like oo), and breakfasted this morning, by the most purely accidental recommendation, at the house of a most stupid dog, Mr Edwards, a brewer,
whose town house is in Portman Square, and who has built himself a mansion in the vale of Llanrwst, because in this valley he
passed the most pleasing years of his childhood. Llanrwst is 12
miles from Conway, this place io miles more, where I am just
sitting down to dinner, and Corwen, where I propose to sleep, is
13 miles further. Llangollen, to which I purpose to proceed
to-morrow, is 14 miles beyond Corwen.... Whether I shall
leave Llangollen Friday or Saturday will defend pretty much on,




LETTER, FROM WALES.


373


these ladies [Lady Eliza Butler and Miss Ponsonby], but I think
I will contrive to be in town so as to be able to give you an
accurate previous notice of the time, for the sake of the dear little
girls and the trunks of the trees: perhaps you may have a letter
by Monday's post, to tell you exactly of the final particulars of my.arrival the day after.
"Tell Fanny and Mary I have brought each of them a present
from Aunt Bishop and Aunt Everina. I love Aunt Bishop as
much as I hate (you must not read that word) Aunt Everina: and
therefore Fanny, as the eldest, must, I believe, have the privilege
of choosing Mrs Bishop's present, if she prefers it. Will not Fanny
be glad to see papa next Tuesday? It will then be more than
seven weeks since papa was at Polygon: I hope it will be a long,
long while before papa goes away again for so much as seven
weeks. What do you think, F.? But he had to come over the
sea, and the sea would not let him come when he liked. Look at
it in the map.
"A further object of curiosity with which I have been gratified
was, that Mr Grattah introduced me to a poor man who had been
twice half-hanged by the King's troops in the rebellion. I had,
therefore, the account of the transaction from the fellow's own
mouth. The first time, seven cars were brought, and set on end,
that seven villagers might be suspended from the tops of their
shafts, to extort a confession of arms from them. The second
time, the poor fellow's wife, who was on her death-bed, crawled to
the threshold to entreat for mercy for him in vain. She survived
the scene, of which she thus became the spectator, exactly ten
days. God save the king!"
[Enclosed in letter.]-" I have just closed the week with a
very interesting conversation with Curran, upon the charge I had
heard alleged against him of insincerity and prostitution of friendship. I am convinced it has no shadow of foundation to lean
upon. I like hirm a thousand times better than ever,
"We are now going to set out for Carlow, and shall spend an
hour or two this morning with Geo. Ponsonby, who is by most
persons pronounced the third orator in Ireland, and by the devo



374


VWILLIAM GOD IIN.


tees of chaste and level declamation, is affirmed to be the first.
I have never yet seen him, except for a few minutes, in England.
' Ah, poor Fanny! here is another letter from papa, and what
do you think he says about the little girls in it? Let me see.
Would pretty little Mary have apprehension enough to be angry
if I did not put in her name? Look at the map. This is Sunday
that I am now writing. Before next Sunday I shall have crossed
that place there, that you see marked as sea, between Ireland and
England, and shall hope, indeed, to be half way home. That is
not a very long while now, is it? My visit to Ireland is almost
done. Perhaps I shall be on the sea in a ship, the very moment
Marshall is reading this letter to you. There is about going in a
ship in Mrs Barbauld's book. But I shall write another letter,
that will come two or three days after this, and then I shall be in
England. And in a day or two after that, I shall hope to see Fanny
and Mary and Marshall, sitting on the trunks of the trees...>
The tender domestic tone of these letters is in strong
contrast to the acrimony which now began to mark Godwin's intercourse with Dr Parr. According to Godwin's
own testimony at a later date, the Doctor had always been
"an advocate of old establishments," and even " of old
abuses." But "his heart had always seemed better than
his logic," he had a ready sympathy for those with whom
his reason did not wholly agree, as was shown in his letter
to Godwin at the time of the political trials, he could take
Godwin with all his heresies as a chosen friend.
But his opinions, in common with those of many others,
had insensibly become more reactionary.    The French
Revolution had proved a test which few could bear. Mackintosh became, according to Godwin, "an apostate," and
though Godwin could not apply the term to Dr Parr, he had
soon to find that the division was no longer only of creed
but of sympathy, and that the friendship was fading away,




QUARREL WITH DR PARR.


375


He sent a copy of "St Leon" to Hatton, but heard
nothing of its reception, and after waiting more than a
reasonable time, wrote to his friend.
William Godwin to Rev. Dr Parr.
"POLYGON, SOMERS TOWN, 7an. 3, IS8O.
"DEAR SIR,-I received a visit more than twelve months ago
from Mr Morley of Hampton Lucy, the express purpose of which
was to vindicate himself from any supposed concern in a foolish
story that was propagated of my having been, through the influence of a certain melancholy event, converted to Christianity.
This was the first time I had ever heard his name joined with that
story. His vindication with me was therefore easy. From all
that I know of Mr Morley, I should feel great difficulty in persuading myself that a conduct pitiful and unmanly could justly be
imputed to him, and I had no hesitation in completely acquitting
him.
"I felt some inclination on that occasion to have written to
you for the purpose of removing any unpleasant impression that
might remain on your mind in connexion with that story. This
inclination, after an interval, was renewed in my mind with still
greater force, in consequence of my being told, though I cannot
now recollect by whom, that you had been heard to do me the
honour to express your regret at some unfortunate misunderstanding that had arisen between us. But procrastination is of very
fatal influence. I deferred my explanation; I reserved it for the
occasion that now presents itself, which I calculated would have
occurred much sooner than it has done. I said, I will request
Dr Parr's acceptance of a copy of my second attempt in the way
of a novel, and will then write to him on the subject at large.
"The story was first brought to me by a very amusing and
good-natured young man, Mr Basil Montagu. He represented
you as the assiduous propagator of the tale. If his representation had been true, I should have regretted the circumstance,
but I should have looked upon it as a ground of misunder



376


6WILLE AM GODWINr.


standing with a man I so profoundly value and esteem as Dr
T'arr. I saw you soon after in town (June I798), and with mliy
customary frankness related to you what I had heard. You instantly assured me that you had heard the tale, only to contradict
it. No answer could be more satisfactory. From that moment
the circumstance ceased to give me the slightest uneasiness, and,
but for the incidents related in the preceding page, would, I am
satisfied, long since have vanished from my mind. I hope this
explanation will be received by you as complete. There are few
-things I regret so much as that petty considerations of miles and
-hours should now for a year and a half have withheld from me the
improving conversation, and the cordial assurances and encourage,
ments I might otherwise have held with and -received from Dr
Parr.
"I ordered my bookseller to send you a copy of my new novel.
I hope you received it in due course. It would give me great
pleasure if you did:not hold it lost time to communicate to me,
with your usual manliness, your sentiments respecting it: if you
would give yourself the trouble, in case of your discovering in it
any fundamental mistake, to set up a beacon to direct me better
in my future efforts, and in case you thought it did not disgrace
me, to cheer me with one breath of your applause, that I might
proceed with greater confidence and strength to future exertions.
"You made a long visit at Norwich last summer. If I had heard
of it in time, I should, perhaps, have been tempted to review the
scene of my boyish years. You saw, I am told, a good deal of.Mackintosh; you therefore, no doubt, settled accounts with him.as to your opinion of his political lectures. I am, myself, exceedingly disgusted with some of their leading features. Sheltering
himself under, what I think, a frivolous apology of naming nobody,
he loads indiscriminately the writers of the new philosophy with
every epithet of contempt,-absurdity, frenzy, idiotism, deceit,
ambition, and every murderous propensity dance through the
mazes of his glittering periods: nor has this mighty dispenser of
honour and disgrace ever deigned to concede to any one of them.the least particle of understanding, talent, or taste. He 'has to




DR PARR'S SPITAL SERMON.


377


the utmost of his power contributed to raise a cry against them,
rs hollow, treacherous, noxious, and detestable, and to procure
them either to be torn in pieces by the mob, or hanged up by the
government. There is a warmth in this style of speculation, that
does not well accord, either with the conclusions of my understanding, or the sentiments of my heart. I have noticed it
accordingly, en passant, in the third volume, p. 247, of my novel.
-I remain, with sentiments of much regard, dear sir, yours,
W. GODWIN."'
To this letter Dr Parr returned no answer by way of
letter, but he replied to it with a vengeance on the following Easter Tuesday, April 15, I8oo. He was selected to
preach the annual "Spital Sermon" before the Lord,
Mayor, and delivered a great manifesto    on "the new V
philosophy" with direct and unmistakeable reference to
Godwin and "Political Justice."
The remaining letters may speak for themselves, with the
remark only that Godwin's "notes " to Dr Parr's letter of
April 29 form the first draft of a pamphlet published by
him in the following year, called "Thoughts occasioned by
the Perusal of Dr Parr's Spital Sermon." He complained
in this with considerable vigour of the treatment he had
received from Parr and Mackintosh, and of the "flood of
ribaldry, invective, and intolerance which had been poured
against him and his writings." So ended a friendship which
once had been close and cordial.
WVilliam Godwin- to Rev. Dr Parr.
"POLYGON, SOMERS TOWN, April24, I8oo.
" DEAR SIR,-I was very desirous to see you. I have called
twice for that purpose. Saturday, unfortunately, you were on the
point of going out: to-day you slept in the country.
-" If I had seen' you, I designed to ask whether you had received




378


7WILLIAM GOD WIV.


a letter from me, written in December [January] last. I meant to
have listened, to know whether intention or simple forgetfulness
had caused it to remain unanswered. It did not appear to me an
ordinary letter, but one the author of which was entitled to a
reply.
" This subject dismissed, I should then have mentioned your
sermon of Easter Tuesday. I spoke in that letter of Mackintosh's
letters, in which that gentleman, without the manliness of mentioning me, takes occasion three times a-week to represent me to an
audience of a hundred persons, as a wretch unworthy to live.
Your sermon, I learn from all hands, was on the same subject,
handled, I take it for granted, from what I know of your character,
in a very different spirit. I am sorry for this. Since Mackintosh's
Lectures, it has become a sort of fashion with a large party to
join in the cry against me. It is the part, I conceive, of original
genius, to give the tone to others, rather than to join a pack, after
it has already become loud and numerous.
" These subjects were better adapted for a conversation than a
letter, and I much wish they had been so treated. Every difference of judgment is not the topic for a grave complaint.
"If, however, both my letter and my visit would have passed
unnoticed, I am entitled to conclude that you have altered your
mind respecting me. In that case I should be glad you would
answer to your own satisfaction, what crimes I am chargeable with
now in T800, of which I had not been guilty in I794, when with
so much kindness and zeal you sought my acquaintance.-I am,
dear sir, yours, with the warmest regard,  W. GODWIN."
Rev. Dr Parr to WVilliam Godwin.
"38 CAREY STREET, April 29, 18oo.
" SIR,-I have read your letter attentively, and I believe that you
know enough of my serious and importunate avocations in London
to consider them as a sufficient excuse for the delay of my answer.
" You designed,' it seems, 'to ask me whether I had received
a letter from you written in December last.' 'You meant,' also,




DR PARR'S LETTER.


379


'to have listened to know whether intention or simple forgetfulness
had caused it to remain unanswered.' You further represent it
'as appearing to yourself not an ordinary letter, but one, the author
of which was entitled to a reply.' If you had seen me and spoken
what you thus wrote, I should not have given you the trouble of
listening to hear my answer. Without professing to adopt your
system about the undistinguishing disclosure of truth, I shall follow
my own, which appears to me equally sound and salutary.
" A parcel came to my house in December last, when I was
absent. Upon my return I opened it, and found four volumes,
together with a letter, which from the direction I knew to be from
you. I read only the preface to your novel, and afterwards, having
heard from Mrs Parr some account of its contents, I felt no anxiety
at the time to look into them. I happened to be then very busy
upon subjects which were far more interesting to me; and perhaps,
if I had been more at leisure, yet I might not have found myself
disposed to read your book till I knew the opinion entertained of
it by the very sagacious person whom I had desired to peruse it.
Certainly, sir, I was not for one moment insensible of your civility
in sending it to me. But I had determined to return it to you;
and the reluctance I felt to do what might seem to you ungracious,
made me put off from day to day the execution of what I intended.
I now thank you, sir, for sending me the book. I also apologise
to you for not having made my acknowledgments sooner, and after
my arrival at Hatton I will take the earliest opportunity of conveying back to you the volumes which for obvious reasons I cannot
keep without impropriety.
" Your letter I laid aside, and as I did not expect to find the
contents.of it agreeable to me, I laid it aside unopened. With
some uncertainty whether I should or should not venture to read
it, I afterwards looked for it in my library and could not find it.
But my search was not very diligent, and I suppose that some
day or other it will fall into my hands. I cannot, however,
pledge myself, either upon finding to read, or upon reading, to
answer it.
" I have told you, sir, with all possible plainness, every circum



380


J3WILLIAM GOD WINi


stance I remember about your letter and in the books: and in
consequence of what you wrote to me the other day, I think
myself justified in confessing that I am now not disposed towards
you entirely as I once was.
"Your letter of April 24th goes on thus: 'This subject dismissed, I should then have mentioned your sermon of Easter
Tuesday. I spoke in the letter above referred to of Mackintosh's
Lectures, in which that gentleman, without the manliness of mentioning me, takes occasion three times a week to represent me to
an audience of an hundred persons as a wretch unworthy to live.'
Indeed, sir, I must congratulate myself upon not opening a letter
containing a passage so offensive to me as this misrepresentation
of Mr Mackintosh, be it accidental or voluntary. From various
quarters I had heard of the ability and success with which Mr
Mackintosh had combated opinions which you are supposed to
hold, and of which I am accustomed to disapprove. But I never
was told by other men that he had been guilty of any unbecoming
personalities towards you; and by Mr Mackintosh -himself I have
been informed that he never insulted your character, never:pronounced your name, never even opposed your tenets, as holden
by yourself exclusively. You will therefore permit me to express
my fixed belief, that what you wrote in your former letter, and
have repeated in your last, is utterly unwarranted by the conduct
of Mr Mackintosh in his lectures. Of his genius, his judgment,
his erudition, and his taste, I have always thought and spoken
with high admiration. From the doubts which I may now and
then have entertained of his firmness, I am happily relieved. By
experience I am convinced of his sincerity in friendship, and for
the important services which he is now rendering to a cause which
is most dear to my heart, I gladly give him the tribute of my
thanks and my praise.
"I return to your letter, in which you say, 'Your sermon, I
learn from all hands, was -on the same subject, handled, I take it
for granted, from what I know of your character, in a very different
spirit. I am sorry for this.'.. "Be assured, sir, that you have done me.no more than justice,




DR PA4RR'S LETTER.


38x


when you acquit me of describing you 'as a wretch unworthy to
live.' I hope, sir, you are not sorryfor tlis.
"For the principles which I defend from the pulpit, I am conscious of an awful responsibility, not only to society, but to Almighty God, and it is at my own peril that, in speaking of my
fellow-creatures, I forget the obligations which lie upon me to preserve the candour of a gentleman, and the charity of a Christian.
Let me hope, that for this also you are not sorry.
"In your letter you thus proceed: 'Since Mackintosh's lectures,
it has become a sort of fashion with a large party to join in the
cry against me. It is the part, I conceive, of original genius to
give the tone to others, rather than to join a pack, after it has
already become loud and numerous.'
"So far as the foregoing passage contains a statement of facts
relating to other men, it may or may not be just. So far as it
contains your general opinion upon the duty of men who are endowed with original genius, I am inclined rather to admit than to
contradict it. But if it be meant in any. degree whatsoever to
contain a particular accusation against me, I must lament the
want of precision, and the want of fairness in the writer. Sir, I
lay no claim' to that original genius which is to give the tone to
others.' But I have too delicate a sense of decorum to join a pack
because it is loud and numerous, or to act with a party because it
is large, or to repeat any cry-against you because it is fashionable.
I trust, sir, that, upon reconsidering what you have thus written,
you will be very sorry for it, and, let your motives be what they
may, when you wrote the passage above mentioned, and let your
feelings be what they may, when you have reconsidered it, I have
no hesitationin pronouncing it quite unauthorised, either by what
you know of my general character, or from what you can have
heard from any man of sense about my sermon at Christ Church.
"' These subjects,' you proceed to say, 'were better adapted for
a conversation than a letter; and I much wish they had been so
treated. Every difference of judgment is not the proper topic for
a grave complaint.'
"Confessing myself at a loss to find any close connection be



382


W'ILLI.4, GOD WYI.


tween the beginning and the conclusion of the foregoing paragraph, I am under the necessity of replying to them separately.
If the subjects upon which you meant to speak to me were those
upon which you actually have written to me, I think that they may
be discussed more temperately and more correctly by letter than
by conversation; and, of course, I very much rejoice that they
have not been treated in the manner you say you very much wish
to treat them. True it is, that every difference of judgment is not
the proper topic for a grave complaint. But if I had joined a
pack against you, there would have been reason for very loud
complaint on your part; and if you in conversation had accused
me, as you seem to accuse me in writing, of having acted thus
unbecomingly, I should have complained of you, not for weakness
in judgment, but for rashness in reproach, not for differing from me
on a point of opinion, but for calumniating me as a point of fact.
"I now quote your concluding paragraph: —' If, however, both
my letters and my visits would have passed unnoticed, I am entitled to conclude that you have altered your mind respecting me.
In that case I should be glad you would answer to your own satisfaction what crime I am chargeable with now in i8oo, of which I
had not been guilty in J794, when with so much kindness and
zeal you sought my acquaintance.'
"The letter you wrote. to me on the 24th of April does not pass
unnoticed. Your visits entitled you to civility, and yet I am under
the painful necessity of acknowledging that I do not wish you in
future to give yourself the trouble of writing to me any more
letters, or favouring me with any more visits. Upon the alteration
of my mind towards you, I can speak entirely to my own satisfaction, though not without some doubts upon the degree in which
you will be glad to find I am satisfied.
"I never sought your acquaintance, sir, with any zeal. I received you with kindness when you were introduced to me by Mr
Mackintosh. I have treated you with the respect that is due to
your talents and attainments. But before the year I8oo, I had
ceased to think of you so favourably as I thought of you in I794.
I had not in I794 read in your Enquirer the passage where you




NOTES ON DR PARR'S LETTER.


383


speak so irreverently and unfavourably about the Founder of that
religion of which you know that I am a teacher, and of which you
can have no reason for doubting but that I am a sincere believer.
And in truth, sir, though I found in that book many judicious
observations upon life, and many pleasing instances of your improvement in style, still your mis-statement of Christ's meaning,
and your insinuations against his benevolence, have occurred to
me again and again, and from the resemblance they bear to the
impious effusions of Mr Voltaire, which I have lately read, they
have displeased, and ever will displease me more and more.
"I had not in 1794 been shocked, in common with all wise
and good men, by a work which you entitle 'Memoirs of the
Author of the Rights of Women.'
" I had not then discovered the dreadful effects of your opinions
upon the conduct, the. peace, and the welfare of two or three
young men, whose talents. I esteemed, and whose virtues I loved.
"I had not then seen your eagerness and perseverance in employing every kind of vehicle to convey to every class of readers
those principles which, so long as they appeared only in the form
of a metaphysical treatise, might have done less extensive mischief.
"Above all, sir, I had not considered the dangerous tendency
of your tenets with the seriousness which the situation of the moral
and political world has lately produced in my mind upon subjects
most interesting to the happiness of society, and to the preservation of that influence which virtue and religion ought to have upon
the sentiments and the happiness of mankind.-I am, Sir, very
sincerely your well-wisher and obedient servant,  S. PARR."
Notes on Dr Parr's Letter.
"' iAs I did not expect to find the contents of it agreeable to
me," &c. This is a very curious remark. What disagreeable contents did the Doctor divine he should find in my letter? There
was not the shadow of a misunderstanding between us. The most
obvious interpretation is, that the Doctor expected to find in my
letter expressions of consideration, kindness, and friendship, and
that these expressions, under the circumstance of the secret aliena



384


'ILLIAAf GOD [IN.


tion of mind he had harboured against me, would have been disagreeable to him.
" ' Misrepresentation of Mr Mackintosh.' This remark is sufficiently answered in my " Thoughts occasioned by Dr Parr's Sermon.'
"' Never pronounced your- name,' ditto. Here Dr Parr converts, with what propriety I will not decide, my allegation against
Mr Mackintosh in a defence of his conduct.
"' I hope, sir, you are not sorry for this.' Be it recollected that
my letter was written instantly upon my return home,. with the
suspicion upon my mind of Dr Parr's desertion of his former
friendship for me. The instances I had repeatedly observed of
warm and affectionate temper in Dr Parr had produced in me a.
considerable attachment to him. I beg pardon for this, as well as
for having been so far disturbed at the moment by the first apprehension of his unkindness as to have fallen into the inaccuracy of
making the pronoun the Doctor amuses himself with, refer in strict
construction to the latter member of my sentence, while in spirit.
and intention it refers to the former.
"'I never sought your acquaintance, sir, with any zeal.' In
August 1793 the unfortunate and illustrious: Mr Gerrald, whom I
then saw for the first time, communicated to me the favourable
opinion he entertained of the E[nquirer] and P[olitical] J[ustice],
and his anxiety to be acquainted with the author. Soon after Mr
Mackintosh made me a similar communication. In February
1794 the Doctor was in town, and at Mr Mackintosh's desire I
attended him to the Doctor's lodgings. He received me with the
cordiality and warmth which have so often delighted me. To Mr
Mackintosh he said, ' Jemmy, I was very angry with you yesterday, but now you have brought Godwin to me, I cannot help
forgiving you.' Dr Parr invited me to spend some time with him
in Warwickshire. I went thither in October. The Doctor introduced me to all his neighbours. We dined out almost every day,
and his manner of announcing me was in the highest terms of
eulogium and regard. After a stay of six days, I was unexpectedly
called to town by some circumstances connected with the state




CONCLUSION OF CORRESPONDENCE.


385


trials at the Old Bailey. The Doctor dismissed me with reluctance, complained of the shortness of my visit, and insisted that,
when the affair was over, or if not then, in the following summer,
I should return and make up to him the injury he now sustained.
In November following, the Doctor, at my particular instigation,
visited Mr Gerrald in the prison of the New Compter. I repeated
my visit to the Doctor in 1795, and staid sixteen days: still the
same round of distinguishing kindness and panegyrical iitroductions. In April I796 Dr Parr invited himself, his family, and a
party of ten or twelve persons to dine with me in a little hovel
which I then tenanted near London. In June 1797 I was in
Wanvickshire on a journey northwards. I then saw Dr Parr, who
regretted to me his absence from home, but insisted I should make
some stay at his house on my return. In June I798 I had another
cordial interview with him in London.
"'The passage in which you speak so irreverently and unjustly
of the Founder, &c.' In the period of the Doctor's greatest cordiality and friendship, he was accustomed to call and believe me
an atheist. This remark brings to my mind a passage in Hume's
History of England, where he says: 'At God's altar in Canterbury, there were offered in one year ~3, 2s. 6d.; at the Virgin's,
~63, 5s. 6d.; at St. Thomas's, ~832, I2s. 3d. But next year
the disproportion was still greater; there was not a penny offered
at God's altar; the Virgin's gained ~4, is. 8d., but St. Thomas
had got for his share ~9956, 6s. 3d.'
"'I had not then discovered,' &c. Whether any, and what
meaning is to be ascribed to this mysterious and terrible sentence,
Dr Parr only, I suppose, is able to explain.
"'Above all,' &c.  Thus, by Dr Parr's own confession, the
E[nquirer] and P[olitical] J[ustice] which originally induced him
to seek my acquaintance, is the great and principal reason why
he now desires that 'in future I will not give myself the trouble of
writing any more letters, and favouring him with any more visits.'
"The above remarks I have put down under the idea that Dr.
Parr's letter may one day be printed. I feel the utmost delicacy
in exercising any jurisdiction over the communications of private
I.               -      2B




386


WILLIAM GODWIN.


correspondence; but I do not regard the letter a man writes me,
for the purpose of dismissing me from all future intercourse with
him, as private correspondence.
" (If Dr Parr's letter should ever be printed, mine of April i8oo
should stand as a general introduction, and of January in the same
year.)"
From Dr Parr to William Godwin.
"HATTON, Oct. 28, I800.
"For reasons which were some time ago communicated to Mr
Godwin, Dr Parr takes the liberty of returning him a book which
has been read by Mrs Parr, Mrs Wynne, and Catherine; and he
begs leave to unite with them in thanks to the courtesy of the
writer. In the sincerity of his soul, Dr Parr wishes Mr Godwin
health, prosperity, and such a state of mind, united with a possible
and proper use of his great talents, as may obtain for him a lasting
reputation among wise and good men, and secure his happiness.both here and hereafter."
Unfinished draft of letter from William Godwin to Dr Parr.
"SIR,-I very sincerely thank you for your letter. I feel the
most pungent grief in witnessing your disgrace; but, since it must
be so, I am well satisfied to possess this evidence of your disgrace,
subscribed in your own hand and with your own name.
" If I could ever be prevailed upon to present to the public the
luxuriant but short-lived vegetation of your professions of regard,
as they now lie by me in my closet, contrasted with the expressions
of this letter, and the frivolous reasons by which they are attejmpted
to be supported, your character would be placed in a light in
which it was never yet the lot of a human being to be exhibited.
" I rejoice that there are not many men like you. If there
were, there would indeed be little inducement to the attempting
public benefit by the acquisition of talents, when the very production which first obtained for its author the attention of one who
was a stranger to him, is afterwards unblushingly assigned as the




CONCLUSION OF CORRESPONDENCE.


387


ground, and, ' above all,' the ground of alienation and a tone of
reproach that I think it would rather unmanly to apply to the
most atrocious criminal that ever held up his hand at the bar of
Old Bailey.
" My 'unwarranted misrepresentation' of Mackintosh's lectures,
stated in my own terms, I am ready to support, if necessary, with
a body of evidence as complete as ever obtained the attention of
a court of justice in a public trial."


WISBEACH.




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