It is characteristic of the preordained borrower, of the man who simply fulfils his destiny in life, that not his obligations only, but his anxieties and mortifications are shouldered by other men. Hunt was care-free and light-hearted; but there is a note akin to anguish in Shelley’s petition to Byron, and in his shamefaced admission that he is himself too poor to relieve his friend’s necessities. The correspondence of William Godwin’s eminent contemporaries teem with projects to alleviate Godwin’s needs. His debts were everybody’s affair but his own. Sir James Mackintosh wrote to Rogers in the autumn of 1815, suggesting that Byron might be the proper person to pay them. Rogers, enchanted with the idea, wrote to Byron, proposing that the purchase money of “The Siege of Corinth” be devoted to this good purpose. Byron, with less enthusiasm, but resigned, wrote to Murray, directing him to forward the six hundred pounds to Godwin; and Murray, having always the courage of his convictions, wrote back, flatly refusing to do anything of the kind. In the end, Byron used the money to pay his own debts, thereby disgusting everybody but his creditors.
Six years later, however, we find him contributing to a fund which tireless philanthropists were raising for Godwin’s relief. On this occasion all men of letters, poor as well as rich, were pressed into active service. Even Lamb, who had nothing of his own, wrote to the painter, Haydon, who had not a penny in the world, and begged him to beg Mrs. Coutts to pay Godwin’s rent. He also confessed that he had sent “a very respectful letter”—on behalf of the rent—to Sir Walter Scott; and he explained naively that Godwin did not concern himself personally in the matter, because he “left all to his Committee,”—a peaceful thing to do.
But how did Godwin come to have a “committee” to raise money for him, when other poor devils had to raise it for themselves, or do without? He was not well-beloved. On the contrary, he bored all whom he did not affront. He was not grateful. On the contrary, he held gratitude to be a vice, as tending to make men “grossly partial” to those who have befriended them. His condescension kept pace with his demands. After his daughter’s flight with Shelley, he expressed his just resentment by refusing to accept Shelley’s cheque for a thousand pounds unless it were made payable to a third party, unless he could have the money without the