GODWIN AND MARY WOLLSTONECRAET.•
[SECOND NOTICE.]
THE connection with Mary Wollstonecraft which resulted in mar- riage constitutes the most interesting episode in Godwin's life. In Mr. Paul's volumes, we have, for the first time, a full portraiture of this remarkable woman's nature and career. We see the former in all the generous fervour and unflagging devotion, the latter in all the sadness of incessant and painful struggle. Mary Woll- stonecraft, as a woman, set herself at war with the society of her day even more than Godwin by his writings, but it is not possible to read her letters and peruse the present narrative of her early life without acquiring the conviction that her nature was that of a noble, unselfish, and high-minded woman, ever actuated by a fine sense of morality, though she had rebelled against the forms in which its laws were expressed. She was born in 1759, the eldest daughter of a worthless father, who ruined himself by dissipation and sank into degradation. There were three daughters, who early found themselves without a home, and dependent for livelihood on their personal exertions. Mary joined in lodgings at Islington a poor girl, Fanny Blood, of her own age and similar circumstances, who supported her family as an artist, while Mary aimed at be- coming a teacher. Soon her sister Eliza, who was most unhappily married, joined them, adding to the weight on Mary's shoulders, but without discouraging the brave girl's spirit. She worked like a slave to support a sister who was little disposed to do much for herself, and help brothers who were trying in a somewhat desultory and even eccentric manner to push their ways in various directions. The tone of her letters at this period is very remarkable, from its religious sentiment. "With care 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 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 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." But despite all her courage, penury kept still
• William Godwin: his Friends and Caniempararies. By C. Kagan Paul. 2 vole. London : Henry S. King and Co. Ina. pressing in upon the lonely, struggling girL Painting, needle- work, and teaching, however diligently plied, yet failed to provide the assurance of daily requirements, and Mary Wollstonecraft at this stage underwent all the bitterness of that most grinding in- digence, the indigence which will not stoop to sink into declared pauperism. Through all this she struggled on with unflagging energy and unimpaired courage. In 1785, Fanny Blood married a mercantile clerk and accompanied him to Lisbon, and thither at the call of her friend, on the eve of her confinement, the devoted Mary followed, solely to nurse her, as it proved in death. Heart-broken by grief, and for the first time prostrate in courage, Mary returned to England, a seemingly abandoned unit in the wide world. " Could I not look for comfort where only 'tie 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." It illustrates her brave nature, that in this frame of mind she made her first literary venture, in a pamphlet on the "Education of Daughters," for which she got ten guineas from Mr. Johnson, a publisher, in Fleet Street. Through friends, Mary then obtained, in the autumn of 1787, a situation as governess in the family of Lord Kingsborough, in Ireland. The pupils soon became so fond of their instructress, that the mother grew jealous, and a rupture ensued. On November 7, 1788, Mary wrote :—" I am once more thrown on the world ; I have left Lord K's I am deter- mined not to see any of my frieneds till I am in a way to earn my subsistence, and to this determination I will adhere." The kindly Mr. Johnson came to her aid ; be found lodgings near Blackfriars Bridge, and supplied matter for literary work. "During her stay in George Street," he writes in a note, " 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 often the case, she was relieved by unbosoming herself, and generally re- turned home calm, frequently in spirits."
In these painful conditions—in moments snatched from the daily drudgeries of work at so much a line—Mary Wollstonecraft com- posed the book on the Rights of Women, which at once startled the public and branded the authoress with celebrity. Her very sisters turned now with spiteful Pharisaism from the impiousness of the woman who had so unselfishly supported them with her hard-won earnings. And yet it is rather the extraordinary plainness of lan- guage than the actual emancipation of thought, which imparted so bad a reputation to a book whose "main argument 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." What shocked the general public in those days of Tory sentiment was the marked accent of French - Revolution phraseology, as, for instance, in the dedication, where it is said, "If children are to be educated to understand the true principle of patriotism, their mother must be a patriot." To France—then the land of promise to hopeful reformers—Mary actually proceeded. The journey was originally contemplated as an excursion, in company with the Fuselis and Mr. Johnson. But these dropped off, and so in December, 1792, Mary went alone to Paris, on what must have seemed a most adven- turous expedition. That she contemplated a lengthened stay does not appear, but soon the war between France and England made her position critical and communication with her friends difficult. It was some time in the autumn of 1793 that she met in Paris Gilbert Imlay, an American, then engaged in commercial speculations, and a man of considerable accomplishments. With him she lived as his wife. Imlay him- self designated her as " wife " in a document which gave her power to act as his representative in a legal settlement. All the corre- spondence is that of an affectionate wife, and as "Mrs. Imlay "she lived in Havre. But soon a heavy cloud came over her. Imlay embarked in many speculations, became embarrassed, and left his companion, on the plea of business-calls. After a time, Mary, with her child—a girl—joined him in London, only to discover that the union was at an end, and that she was to be dismissed . ' a cast-off mistress by him whom she had adopted as a partner for life, though without that marriage which her principles had led her to regard as a merely external form. With scorn the proposal of an annuity was rejected. Then came one great fit of overwhelming despair, and a delirious plunge from Putney Bridge, followed by a rescue which did not, however, snatch her from the grip of racking sorrow. The letters at this period are records of terrible and touching agony. But there were some friends about her; and notably Mr. Johnson, the kindly publisher, again came to her help , and soon Mary's brave heart picked up once more under his counsels. Resenting all offers of money from Imlay, Mary resolutely set to work to support herself and her child by her pen. Under these circumstances, Godwin was first thrown with this interesting woman. He had met her years before, without being agreeably impressed, and it would seem that the perusal of one of
her publications first attracted his sympathy. Southey describes _Mary's personal appearance at this time to Cottle in these Zerms :—" 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 Horne 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." The courtship was not protracted. On March 29, 1797, the marriage took place, in Old St. Pancras Church, before only two witnesses, and with- out the previous knowledge of friends. In Godwin's own Diary
there is no notice of the event. To his old friend Wedgewood he addressed these characteristic lines :—
"Yon have by this time heard of my marriage. This was the solu- tion of my late application to you, which I promised speedily to com- municate. 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 indi- vidual, which I had no right to injure, could have induced me to sub- mit 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. I trust you will not accuse me of duplicity in having told you it was not for myself I wanted your assistance The loan
I requested of you was rendered necessary by some complications 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 me to start fair. This you shall afford us, if you feel perfectly assured of its propriety.. , . . As to the not having published our marriage at first, I yielded in that to her feelings...... P.S.—We do not entirely cohabit'.
This postscript means that in pursuance of his crotchets about the wearisomeness of perpetual intercourse, he continued to reside in lodgings about twenty doors from Mary, though it is beyond question that their married life was one of intense happiness dur-
ing its short duration. The letters in these volumes conclusively testify thereto. Mary's death was sudden. The birth of a girl—
afterwards Mrs. Shelley—had happened under favourable condi- tions, when unexpectedly bad symptoms set in, and she died.
During the critical days, Godwin's Diary contains the same laconic entries—mere indications--sternly destitute of sentiment, until strong dashes are all that mark the climax. In allthis, there is manifest
effort at a stoicism which is convulsively fractured by irresistible paroxysms of feeling. " My dear friend," he wrote to Holcroft, the very day of bereavement, " my wife is now dead. She died this morning at eight:o'clock I firmly believe that there does not exist her equal in the world. 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." For months Godwin's occupation was only with his wife's manuscripts and letters. " I partook of a happiness so much the more exquisite," he wrote to a friend, " as I had a short time before had no conception of it I saw one bright ray of light, that streaked my day of life only to leave the remainder more gloomy and in the truest sense of the word, hopeless. 1 am still here surrounded; by the children, and all the well-known objects which, though they all talk of melancholy, are still dear to me The poor children I am myself totally unfitted to educate them The scepticism which sometimes leads me right in matters of speculation, is torment to me when I would attempt to direct the infant mind." Practically, as has often happened, the sense of bereavement led to a quite morbid desire for another union, and the grim manner in which God-
win set about proposing to various women is one of the oddest inci- dents in his life, and eminently characteristic of his weaknesses. Having accidentally met the sisters Lee, authoresses of the Canter- bury Tales, he at once addressed the younger, Harriet, in the follow- ing strains :—" When I last had the pleasure of seeing you, you said you supposed you should hear of me. In saying, there- fore, you supposed you should hear of me, I am determined to un- derstand that you expected to hear from me
Why should I not venture to suggest the practicability of your substituting my house, instead of the accommodation you have lost ?" Miss Lee did not at all respond to the suggestion, whereupon Godwin proceeded to beset her with a series of sermons on her perversity in not taking him to her bosom. " Do not go out of life," he exclaims, " with- out knowing what life is. Celibacy contracts and palsies the mind, and shuts us out from the most valuable topics of experi- ence." Stranger even was his procedure with his next flame—a Mrs. Revely—known as the "Maria Giaborne " with whom Shelley corresponded. Godwin had been on intimate terms with Mr. Revely, who died suddenly, from the bursting of a blood-vessel. Within a few days after the event, we find Godwin bursting in upon the widow's retirement with the proposal that she should promise him her hand, and when he finds himself met with any- thing but a warm response, he at once proceeds to remonstrate on the preposterousness of such conduct, with a vehemence painfully marked by intense vanity :—
" 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 You are invited to form the sole happiness of one of the most known men of the age What you propose to choose in opposition to
this I hardly know how to describe to yon. I offer to you a
harbour You prefer to launch away into the tempestuous, treacherous ocean."
What with one in this temper was inevitable, of course, came about. A widow lady, Mrs. Clairmont, with a family, became the second Mrs. Godwin. In this instance, the advances, how- ever, came not from him. Mrs. Clairmont appears to have been a woman with some personal attractions, but also with plenty of false sentiment. She laid herself out as an admirer of Godwin's talents, and approached him with a gross flattery that took by storm his vanity. The first introduction is related to have been the exclamation from the lady, " Is it possible I behold the im- mortal Godwin ?" "The immortal Godwin" forthwith nodded assentingly, and put his neck within a noose that proved anything but a silken one for the remainder of his days.