made it possible that they should be together. Once more the sympathy for the young, and the prudent advice for their career, which have been so manifest on former occasions, come out in the letters to Rosser which follow. They are not in strict order of time, but in a sequence which is not inappropriate.

Henry Blanch Rosser to William Godwin.

"CAMBRIDGE, March 14, 1819.

I am introducing myself to the study of the Ancients with ardour. The more I know of them, the more I meditate on them, and weigh the meaning of every letter of their words, the more I love and honour them. When I review my

past life, and look for the causes that have operated to mould me into what I am, I always recur to the time I first read 'Political Justice,' September 1815. I should not now be in Cambridge had I not read it. How doubly fortunate then am I in the friendship of the man to whose book I, the world, owe so much. The ardour and enthusiasm it produced may have cooled, but the conviction of its truth has gathered strength. Nor do I forget, though I am forced to silence here, that my inclination and duty are combined in fostering and spreading the doctrines I adopt."

The Same to the Same.

"CAMBRIDGE, April 13, 1819.

I suppose, from what I have heard, that a majority of men here are miserable. Several causes may perhaps be assigned for this. The solitude, to those who cannot find a resource in books and study, is insupportable; ennui and disgust seize their souls, and companions and dissipation cannot quiet them. Another species of solitude-no female society. The disgusting monotony of the whole, and, with me at least, the constant attendance at chapel, and the dull, cold, miserable, sombre religious sound of the bell. Another cause, the wretched

country. How great an advantage it would be if the University were situated in a romantic, mountainous country, with a 'matchless cataract, a forest, a volcano, or the sea: some magnificent object of nature, or association of art. At the foot of the Alps, at Rome or Athens, or the Bay of Naples, or, as it must be in England, in the Peak, or the coast of Devon, or in Wales.”

William Godwin to H. B. Rosser.

*March 7, 1820.

“DEAR ROSSER,-I do not Eke your last letter, and why should I not tell you so? You rejoice in having made a convert to Atheism. I think there is something unnatural in a zeal of proselytism in an Atheist I do not believe in an intellectual God, a God made after the image of man. In the vulgar acceptation of the word, therefore, I think a man is right who does not believe in God, but I am also persuaded that a man is wrong who is without religion.

“But if a zeal in proselytism in such a cause might, under certain circumstances, be right, think how it shows in a young man conforming in all outward shows with the Church of England— regular in frequenting her worship, and even joining her in her most solemn act of communion. Do you think that this character looks well. Oh! shut up your thoughts on this subject for the present in your own mind. Do you think there is no danger of their growing too mature? Or would you be ashamed of reflecting deeply and patiently before you finally cease to reflect and examine in a question, which all mankind in all ages have agreed to regard as of the deepest importance ?

“I am also displeased with your telling me of your letter to Wooler, advising him to leave a question you think contemptible to the Whigs. Formerly I took some pains to convince you that the Whigs, as a party in the state, were of the highest value to the public welfare, and constituted the party to which a liberal-minded and enlightened man would adhere. My pains, I see, were thrown away. It is possible I was wrong. But was it necessary

that you should go out of your way, and make an occasion to oppose me (I use the language of the world) with your contempt for my partialities?

The Same to the Same.

"March 27, 1820.

I now as frankly say, I like your letter of the 24th inst.

as that I disliked your letter of Feb. 23rd.

“My first feeling was that I must have been wrong in censuring its elder brother. But I went back to it, and there was still entire all that had offended me at first. You rejoiced in making an Atheist. I saw no end to this. The man who is bitten with the zeal of proselytism hopes to make a convert at least three times a week. You say now, how could you help doing as you did? You were in solitude: had but one friend. To this I answer-it stands in your February letter-'I need not add that Austen is of my faith. Bedingfield also, my old friend Bedingfield, is become an Atheist.'

“I look also to the passage about Wooler. There it stands,— pure, unmitigated, groundless contempt for the Whigs. As you express yourself now, you come so near to my sentiments that it is not worth disputing with you, and I have done.

"You seem not to know what I mean by religion. You ask whether I do not mean benevolence. No: I should be ashamed of such a juggle of words. The religious man, I apprehend, is, as Tom Warton phrases it in the title of one of his poems, ‘An enthusiastic or a lover of nature.' I am an adorer of nature. I should pine to death if I did not live in the midst of so majestic a structure as I behold on every side. I am never weary of admiring and reverencing it. All that I see, the earth, the sea, the rivers, the trees, the clouds, animals, and, most of all, man, fills me with love and astonishment. My soul is full to bursting with the mystery of all this, and I love it the better for its mysteriousness. It is too wonderful for me; it is past finding out: but it is beyond expression delicious. This is what I call religion, and if it is the religion you loath you are not the man I took you for.

"You express yourself ready to burst with joy on the event of the Spanish Revolution. All that I have seen I like, and I am willing to anticipate all that is good from it. A revolution that gives representation, that gives freedom of the press, that sets open the door of the prison, and that abolishes the inquisition; and all this without bloodshed, must have the approbation of every liberal mind. But I know too little respecting it. If it gives, as you say, universal suffrage, that is pain to my heart. Without the spirit of prophecy, I can anticipate the most disastrous effects from that. England is not yet ripe for universal suffrage, and, as I have often said, if it were established here, the monarchy probably would not stand a year. Now the medicine that is too strong for the English nation, I can never believe will work well in Spain.

But

"I understand the picture you make of yourself. You begin to find yourself at home, and you can do comparatively very well without me. It is well. An old man is perpetually losing friends by death or otherwise, and he would be glad to keep some. I also must do as well as I can. As Shakespeare says, 'Crabbed age and youth cannot live together.' It is of more importance that you should go on well, than that you should stand in need of me."

The other new friend was Lady Caroline Lamb. She was daughter of Lord Bessborough, and wife of William Lamb, afterwards Lord Melbourne. Lady Caroline died Jan. 25, 1828, before her husband succeeded to the title. Her literary powers were considerable, and her novel, "Glenalvon," is still remembered. Almost all the letters which passed between herself and Godwin have appeared worthy of preservation both for their intrinsic value, and as the record of the last of Godwin's many friendships with clever and remarkable women.

witht

The Lady Caroline Lamb to William Godwin.

"Feb. 25, 1819.

"Lady Caroline Lamb presents her compliments to Mr Godwin, and fears his politics will incline him to refuse her request of his interest for Mr George Lamb. She hopes, however, it will not offend if she solicits it."

William Godwin to Lady C. Lamb.

"Feb. 25, 1819.

I am in

"MY DEAR MADAM,-You have mistaken me. Mr G. Lamb has my sincere good wishes. My creed is a short one. principle a Republican, but in practice a Whig.

"But I am a philosopher: that is, a person desirous to become wise, and I aim at that object by reading, by writing, and a little by conversation. But I do not mix in the business of the world, and I am now too old to alter my course, even at the flattering invitation of Lady Caroline Lamb."

Lady Caroline Lamb to William Godwin.

"BROCKET, May 15, 1821.

"I cannot express to you how pleased I was to see your note, and how much I regret not being able to meet you upon the day you name, as I intend staying at Brocket Hall until June, to enjoy this most beautiful season of the year. I wish I could induce you to come here instead, if that is possible. I will send my carriage to Barnet to fetch you any day, but not just at present, when we shall be with people. Write and tell me all you would have said, or half, if you will not all. It shall be sacred unless you permit otherwise. I am impatient to know what you have been doing since the great work came out. I read it, and admired it much. It is a more delightful and cheering view of this world than the other. I am no judge which is the truest. Pray tell me when you write (if you do) what you think of the 'Doge of Venice,' if you have read it, and also whether you are an admirer of Cobbett. I