“. . . I most earnestly wish, as you hint in your last letter, that you would come over and superintend the sale of these pictures yourself. I have a further and very strong reason for wishing it. If the consequence of your embarrassments should be your being thrown into prison, reflect on the difference between being a prisoner here and at Hamburg. Here you may be a prisoner in the rules of the King’s Bench, or the Fleet, which is almost nominal imprisonment. You may see booksellers and other persons with whom you wish to transact business, with whom, I fear, you will never make advantageous engagements without being on the spot. There—I turn away with horror from the supposition—there, imprisonment would be little less than a sentence of death, and starvation to your family. Reflect seriously on this.
“I will take every care in my power respecting the pictures, which, I suppose, are now on their voyage to England. I will see Opie, I will see Gillies; I will, if possible, clear them at the Custom House, and lodge them in a place of safety, to wait your further orders. Beyond this I cannot go.
“And now, to dismiss this subject, I say firmly,
‘Stop!’ Think how much anguish, how many sleepless nights you are
preparing for yourself. Your life—as much of it as is spent in this
pursuit—will be one series of corroding expectation and continual
disappointment. Indeed, it is madness; for what is madness but a constant
calculation of feelings and a sentiment in mankind—the
| 22 | WILLIAM GODWIN |
