Chapter C: KEGAN PAUL: ‘William Godwin, His Friends and Contemporaries.’

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[Sidenote: Plainness of speech.]

A plainness of speech, amounting in some places to coarseness, and a deeply religious tone, are to many modern readers the most curious features of the book. A century ago men and women were much more straightforward in their speech than we are to-day. They were not squeamish. Therefore, when it came to serious discussions for moral purposes, there was little reason for writers to be timid.... Hers is the plain speaking of the Jewish law-giver, who has for end the good of man; and not that of an Aretino, who rejoices in it for its own sake.

Even more remarkable than this boldness of expression is the strong vein of piety running through her arguments. Religion to her was as important as it was to a Wesley or a Bishop Watts. The equality of man, in her eyes, would have been of small importance had it not been instituted by man’s Creator.... If women were without souls, they would, notwithstanding their intellects, have no rights to vindicate. If the Christian heaven were like the Mahometan paradise, then they might indeed be looked upon as slaves and playthings of beings who are worthy of a future life, and hence are infinitely their superiors. But, though sincerely pious, she despised the meaningless forms of religion as much as she did social conventionalities, and was as free in denouncing them.

ELIZABETH ROBINS PENNELL: ‘Life of Mary Wollstonecraft.’

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[Sidenote: Mary’s view of marriage.]

At this period a man whose name is now forgotten wished to make Mary his wife. Her treatment of him was characteristic. He could not have known her very well, or else he would not have been so foolish as to represent his financial prosperity as an argument in his favor. For a woman to sell herself for money, even when the bargain was sanctioned by the marriage ceremony, was, in her opinion, the unpardonable sin. Therefore, what he probably intended as an honor, she received as an insult. She declared that it must henceforward end her acquaintance, not only with him, but with the third person through whom the offer was sent. Her letters in connection with this subject bear witness to the sanctity she attached to the union of man and wife. Her view in this relation cannot be too prominently brought forward, since, by manifesting the purity of her principles, light is thrown on her subsequent conduct. In her first burst of wrath she unbosomed herself to her ever-sympathetic confidant, Mr. Johnson:

“Mr. ---- called on me just now. Pray did you know his motive for calling? I think him impertinently officious. He had left the house before it had occurred to me in the strong light it does now, or I should have told him so. My poverty makes me proud. I will not be insulted.... Pray tell him that I am offended, and do not wish to see him again.... I can force my spirit to leave my body, but it shall never bend to support that body. God of heaven, save thy child from this living death! I scarcely know what I write. My hand trembles; I am very sick--sick at heart.”

ELIZABETH ROBINS PENNELL: ‘Life of Mary Wollstonecraft.’

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[Sidenote: Her relations with Fuseli.]

There is no reason to doubt that if Mr. Fuseli had been disengaged at the period of their acquaintance, he would have been the man of her choice.... One of her principal inducements to this step [her visit to France in 1792] related, I believe, to Mr. Fuseli. She had at first considered it as reasonable and judicious to cultivate what I may be permitted to call a platonic affection for him; but she did not, in the sequel, find all the satisfaction in this plan, which she had originally expected from it.... She conceived it necessary to snap the chain of this association in her mind; and, for that purpose, determined to seek a new climate, and mingle in different scenes.

WILLIAM GODWIN: ‘Memoir of the Author of a Vindication of the Rights of Woman,’ quoted in ‘Life of Mary Wollstonecraft,’ by E. R. Pennell.

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[Sidenote: With Gilbert Imlay.]

The American community in Paris did not of course share the suspicion, dislike and danger which were the lot of the English. One of these Americans, Captain Gilbert Imlay, became acquainted with Mary in the spring of 1793.... Imlay had entered into various commercial speculations, of which the centre appears to have been Havre, and his trade was with Norway and Sweden, presumably in timber, since that industry had mainly attracted him in America. At the time of which we speak he was successful in commerce, and he had considerable command of money. The kindness he showed Mary Wollstonecraft disposed her to look on him favorably; she soon gave him a very sincere affection, and consented to become his wife.

I use this word deliberately, although no legal ceremony ever passed between them. Her view was that a common affection was marriage, and that the marriage tie should not bind after the death of love, if love should die. It is probable, however, that only a series of untoward circumstances made her act upon her opinions. A legal marriage with Imlay was certainly difficult, apparently impossible. Her position as a British subject was full of danger--a marriage would have forced her openly to declare herself as such. It is a strong confirmation of the view here taken to find that Madame de Staël, who, if any one, knew the period of which we are speaking, makes a like fact the sole obstacle to the marriage of Lord Nelvil and Madame D’Arbigny. (‘Corinne, ou l’Italie,’ _vol. ii, p. 63_. 8th Edition. Paris: 1818.) It may be doubted whether the ceremony, if any could have taken place, would have been valid in England. Passing as Imlay’s wife, without such preparatory declaration, her safety was assured, and as his wife she was acknowledged by him. Charles Wollstonecraft wrote from Philadelphia that he had seen a gentleman who knew his sister in Paris, and that he was “informed that she is married to Captain Imlay, of this country.” Long after the period at which we have now arrived, when Imlay’s affection had ceased, and his desertion of Mary had practically begun, he entrusted certain important business negotiations to her, and speaks of her in a legal document as “Mary Imlay, my best friend and wife,” a document which in many cases and countries 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 considered herself, in the eyes of God and man, Imlay’s 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 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.