William Godwin: his Friends and Contemporaries
Ch. VIII. 1811-1814
Percy Bysshe Shelley to William Godwin, 3 January 1811
“——You will be surprised at hearing from a stranger.
No introduction has, nor in all probability ever will, authorize that which
common thinkers would call a liberty. It is, however, a liberty which, although
not sanctioned by. custom, is so far from being reprobated by reason, that the
dearest interests of mankind imperiously demand that a certain etiquette of
fashion should no ![]()
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longer keep ‘man at a
distance from man,’ and impose its flimsy barriers between the
free communication of intellect. The name of Godwin has been accustomed to excite in me feelings of
reverence and admiration. I have been accustomed to consider him as a luminary
too dazzling for the darkness which surrounds him, and from the earliest period
of my knowledge of his principles, I have ardently desired to share in the
footing of intimacy that intellect which I have delighted to contemplate in its
emanations. Considering, then, these feelings, you will not be surprised at the
inconceivable emotion with which I learned your existence and your dwelling. I
had enrolled your name on the list of the honourable dead. I had felt regret
that the glory of your being had passed from this earth of ours. It is not so.
You still live, and I firmly believe are still planning the welfare of human
kind. I have but just entered on the scene of human operations, yet my feelings
and my reasonings correspond with what yours were. My course has been short,
but eventful. I have seen much of human prejudice, suffered much from human
persecution, yet I see no reason hence inferable which should alter my wishes
for their renovation. The ill treatment I have met with has more than ever
impressed the truth of my principles on my judgment. I am young: I am ardent in
the cause of philanthropy and truth: do not suppose that this is vanity. I am
not conscious that it influences the portraiture. I imagine myself
dispassionately describing the state of my mind. I am young: you have gone
before me, I doubt not are a veteran to me in the years of persecution. Is it
strange that, defying persecution as I have done, I should outstep the limits
of custom’s prescription, and endeavour to make my desire useful by
friendship with William Godwin? I pray you to answer this
letter. Imperfect as it may be, my capacity, my desire, is ardent, and
unintermitted. Half-an-hour would be at least humanity employed in the
experiment. I may mistake your residence. Certain feelings, of which I may be
an inadequate arbiter, may induce you to desire concealment. I may not in fine
have an answer to this letter. If I do not, when I come to London I shall seek
for you. I am convinced I could ![]()
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represent myself to you in such terms as not to be thought wholly unworthy of
your friendship. At least, if any desire for universal happiness^has any claim
upon your preference, that desire I can exhibit. Adieu. I shall earnestly await
your answer.
William Godwin (1756-1836)
English novelist and political philosopher; author of
An Inquiry
concerning the Principles of Political Justice (1793) and
Caleb
Williams (1794); in 1797 he married Mary Wollstonecraft.
