Complete Works of Mary Shelley

by Mary Shelley

  Peacock calls. I take some interest in this man, but no possible conduct of his would disturb my tranquillity.... Converse with Jane; her mind unsettled; her character unformed; occasion of hope from some instances of softness and feeling; she is not entirely insensible to concessions, new proofs that the most exalted philosophy, the truest virtue, consists in an habitual contempt of self; a subduing of all angry feelings; a sacrifice of pride and selfishness. When you attempt benefit to either an individual or a community, abstain from imputing it as an error that they despise or overlook your virtue. These are incidental reflections which arise only indirectly from the circumstances recorded.

  Walk with Peacock to the pond; talk of Marian and Greek metre. Peacock dines. In the evening read Cicero and the Paradoxa. Night comes; Jane walks in her sleep, and groans horribly; listen for two hours; at length bring her to Mary. Begin Julius, and finish the little volume of Cicero.

  The next morning the chimney board in Jane’s room is found to have walked leisurely into the middle of the room, accompanied by the pillow, who, being very sleepy, tried to get into bed again, but sat down on his back.

  Saturday, October 15 (Mary). — After breakfast read Political Justice. Shelley goes with Peacock to Ballachy’s. A disappointment; it is put off till Monday. They then go to Homerton. Finish St. Leon. Jane writes to Marshall. A letter from my Father. Talking; Jane and I walk out. Shelley and Peacock return at 6. Shelley advises Jane not to go. Jane’s letter to my Father. A refusal. Talk about going away, and, as usual, settle nothing.

  Wednesday, October 19. — Finish Political Justice, read Caleb Williams. Shelley goes to the city, and meets with a total failure. Send to Hookham. Shelley reads a part of Comus aloud.

  Thursday, October 20. — Shelley goes to the city. Finish Caleb Williams; read to Jane. Peacock calls; he has called on my father, who will not speak about Shelley to any one but an attorney. Oh! philosophy!...

  Saturday, October 22. — Finish the Life of Alfieri. Go to the tomb (Mary Wollstonecraft’s), and read the Essay on Sepulchres there. Shelley is out all the morning at the lawyer’s, but nothing is done....

  In the evening a letter from Fanny, warning us of the Hookhams. Jane and Shelley go after her; they find her, but Fanny runs away.

  Monday, October 24. — Read aloud to Jane. At 11 go out to meet Shelley. Walk up and down Fleet Street; call at Peacock’s; return to Fleet Street; call again at Peacock’s; return to Pancras; remain an hour or two. People call; I suppose bailiffs. Return to Peacock’s. Call at the coffee-house; see Shelley; he has been to Ballachy’s. Good hopes; to be decided Thursday morning. Return to Peacock’s; dine there; get money. Return home in a coach; go to bed soon, tired to death.

  Thursday, October 25. — Write to Shelley. Jane goes to Fanny.... Call at Peacock’s; go to the hotel; Shelley not there. Go back to Peacock’s. Peacock goes to Shelley. Meet Shelley in Holborn. Walk up and down Bartlett’s Buildings.... Come with him to Peacock’s; talk with him till 10; return to Pancras without him. Jane in the dumps all evening about going away.

  Wednesday, October 26. — A visit from Shelley’s old friends; they go away much disappointed and very angry. He has written to T. Hookham to ask him to be bail. Return to Pancras about 4. Read all the evening.

  Thursday, October 27. — Write to Fanny all morning. We had received letters from Skinner Street in the morning. Fanny is very doleful, and C. C. contradicts in one line what he had said in the line before. After two go to St. Paul’s; meet Shelley; go with him in a coach to Hookham’s; H. is out; return; leave him and proceed to Pancras. He has not received a definitive answer from Ballachy; meet a money-lender, of whom I have some hopes. Read aloud to Jane in the evening. Jane goes to sleep. Write to Shelley. A letter comes enclosing a letter from Hookham consenting to justify bail. Harriet has been to work there against my Father.

  Tuesday, November 1. — Learn Greek all morning. Shelley goes to the ‘Change. Jane calls. People want their money; won’t send up dinner, and we are all very hungry. Jane goes to Hookham. Shelley and I talk about her character. Jane returns without money. Writes to Fanny about coming to see her; she can’t come. Writes to Charles. Goes to Peacock to send him to us with some eatables; he is out. Charles promises to see her. She returns to Pancras; he goes there, and tells the dismal state of the Skinner Street affairs. Shelley goes to Peacock’s; comes home with cakes. Wait till T. Hookham sends money to pay the bill. Shelley returns to Pancras. Have tea, and go to bed. Shelley goes to Peacock’s to sleep.

  These are two specimens of the notes constantly passing between them.

  Mary to Shelley.

  25th October.

  For what a minute did I see you yesterday. Is this the way, my beloved, we are to live till the 6th? In the morning when I wake I turn to look on you. Dearest Shelley, you are solitary and uncomfortable. Why cannot I be with you, to cheer you and press you to my heart? Ah! my love, you have no friends; why, then, should you be torn from the only one who has affection for you? But I shall see you to-night, and this is the hope I shall live on through the day. Be happy, dear Shelley, and think of me! I know how tenderly you love me, and how you repine at your absence from me. When shall we be free of treachery? I send you the letter I told you of from Harriet, and a letter we received yesterday from Fanny; the history of this interview I will tell you when I come. I was so dreadfully tired yesterday that I was obliged to take a coach home. Forgive this extravagance, but I am so very weak at present, and I had been so agitated through the day, that I was not able to stand; a morning’s rest, however, will set me quite right again; I shall be well when I meet you this evening. Will you be at the door of the coffee-house at 5 o’clock, as it is disagreeable to go into those places. I shall be there exactly at that time, and we can go into St. Paul’s, where we can sit down.

  I send you Diogenes, as you have no books. Hookham was so ill-tempered as not to send the book I asked for. So this is the end of my letter, dearest love.

  What do they mean? I detest Mrs. Godwin; she plagues my father out of his life; and these —— Well, no matter. Why will Godwin not follow the obvious bent of his affections, and be reconciled to us? No; his prejudices, the world, and she — all these forbid it. What am I to do? trust to time, of course, for what else can I do. Good-night, my love; to-morrow I will seal this blessing on your lips. Press me, your own Mary, to your heart. Perhaps she will one day have a father; till then be everything to me, love; and, indeed, I will be a good girl, and never vex you. I will learn Greek and —— but when shall we meet when I may tell you all this, and you will so sweetly reward me? But good-night; I am wofully tired, and so sleepy. One kiss — well, that is enough — to-morrow!

  Shelley to Mary.

  28th October.

  My beloved Mary — I know not whether these transient meetings produce not as much pain as pleasure. What have I said? I do not mean it. I will not forget the sweet moments when I saw your eyes — the divine rapture of the few and fleeting kisses. Yet, indeed, this must cease; indeed, we must not part thus wretchedly to meet amid the comfortless tumult of business; to part I know not how.

  Well, dearest love, to-morrow — to-morrow night. That eternal clock! Oh! that I could “fright the steeds of lazy-paced Time.” I do not think that I am less impatient now than formerly to repossess — to entirely engross — my own treasured love. It seems so unworthy a cause for the slightest separation. I could reconcile it to my own feelings to go to prison if they would cease to persecute us with interruptions. Would it not be better, my heavenly love, to creep into the loathliest cave so that we might be together.

  Mary, love, we must be united; I will not part from you again after Saturday night. We must devise some scheme. I must return. Your thoughts alone can waken mine to energy; my mind without yours is dead and cold as the dark midnight river when the moon is down. It seems as if you alone could shield me from impurity and vice. If I were absent from you long, I should shudder with horror at myself; my unde
rstanding becomes undisciplined without you. I believe I must become in Mary’s hands what Harriet was in mine. Yet how differently disposed — how devoted and affectionate — how, beyond measure, reverencing and adoring — the intelligence that governs me! I repent me of this simile; it is unjust; it is false. Nor do I mean that I consider you much my superior, evidently as you surpass me in originality and simplicity of mind. How divinely sweet a task it is to imitate each other’s excellences, and each moment to become wiser in this surpassing love, so that, constituting but one being, all real knowledge may be comprised in the maxim ³½É¸¹ õ±ÅÄ¿½ — (know thyself) — with infinitely more justice than in its narrow and common application. I enclose you Hookham’s note; what do you think of it? My head aches; I am not well; I am tired with this comfortless estrangement from all that is dear to me. My own dearest love, good-night. I meet you in Staples Inn at twelve to-morrow — half an hour before twelve. I have written to Hooper and Sir J. Shelley.

  Journal, Thursday, November 3 (Mary). — Work; write to Shelley; read Greek grammar. Receive a letter from Mr. Booth; so all my hopes are over there. Ah! Isabel; I did not think you would act thus. Read and work in the evening. Receive a letter from Shelley. Write to him.

  [Letter not transcribed here.]

  Sunday, November 6. — Talk to Shelley. He writes a great heap of letters. Read part of St. Leon. Talk with him all evening; this is a day devoted to Love in idleness. Go to sleep early in the evening. Shelley goes away a little before 10.

  Wednesday, November 9. — Pack up all morning; leave Pancras about 3; call at Peacock’s for Shelley; Charles Clairmont has been for £8. Go to Nelson Square. Jane gloomy; she is very sullen with Shelley. Well, never mind, my love — we are happy.

  Thursday, November 10. — Jane is not well, and does not speak the whole day. We send to Peacock’s, but no good news arrives. Lambert has called there, and says he will write. Read a little of Petronius, a most detestable book. Shelley is out all the morning. In the evening read Louvet’s Memoirs — go to bed early. Shelley and Jane sit up till 12, talking; Shelley talks her into a good humour.

  Sunday, November 13. — Write in the morning; very unwell all day. Fanny sends a letter to Jane to come to Blackfriars Road; Jane cannot go. Fanny comes here; she will not see me; hear everything she says, however. They think my letter cold and indelicate! God bless them. Papa tells Fanny if she sees me he will never speak to her again; a blessed degree of liberty this! He has had a very impertinent letter from Christy Baxter. The reason she comes is to ask Jane to Skinner Street to see Mrs. Godwin, who they say is dying. Jane has no clothes. Fanny goes back to Skinner Street to get some. She returns. Jane goes with her. Shelley returns (he had been to Hookham’s); he disapproves. Write and read. In the evening talk with my love about a great many things. We receive a letter from Jane saying she is very happy, and she does not know when she will return. Turner has called at Skinner Street; he says it is too far to Nelson Square. I am unwell in the evening.

  Journal, November 14 (Shelley). — Mary is unwell. Receive a note from Hogg; cloth from Clara. I wish this girl had a resolute mind. Without firmness understanding is impotent, and the truest principles unintelligible. Charles calls to confer concerning Lambert; walk with him. Go to ‘Change, to Peacock’s, to Lambert’s; receive £30. In the evening Hogg calls; perhaps he still may be my friend, in spite of the radical differences of sympathy between us; he was pleased with Mary; this was the test by which I had previously determined to judge his character. We converse on many interesting subjects, and Mary’s illness disappears for a time.

  Thursday, November 15 (Shelley). — Disgusting dreams have occupied the night.

  (Mary). — Very unwell. Jane calls; converse with her. She goes to Skinner Street; tells Papa that she will not return; comes back to Nelson Square with Shelley; calls at Peacock’s. Shelley read aloud to us in the evening out of Adolphus’s Lives.

  Wednesday, November 16. — Very ill all day. Shelley and Jane out all day shopping about the town. Shelley reads Edgar Huntley to us. Shelley and Jane go to Hookham’s. Hogg comes in the meantime; he stops all the evening. Shelley writes his critique till half-past 3.

  Saturday, November 19. — Very ill. Shelley and Jane go out to call at Mrs. Knapp’s; she receives Jane kindly; promises to come and see me. I go to bed early. Charles Clairmont calls in the evening, but I do not see him.

  Sunday, November 20. — Still very ill; get up very late. In the evening Shelley reads aloud out of the Female Revolutionary Plutarch. Hogg comes in the evening.... Get into an argument about virtue, in which Hogg makes a sad bungle; quite muddled on the point, I perceive.

  Tuesday, November 29. — Work all day. Heigh ho! Clara and Shelley go before breakfast to Parker’s. After breakfast, Shelley is as badly off as I am with my work, for he is out all day with those lawyers. In the evening Shelley and Jane go in search of Charles Clairmont; they cannot find him. Read Philip Stanley — very stupid.

  Tuesday, December 6. — Very unwell. Shelley and Clara walk out, as usual, to heaps of places. Read Agathon, which I do not like so well as Peregrine.... A letter from Hookham, to say that Harriet has been brought to bed of a son and heir. Shelley writes a number of circular letters of this event, which ought to be ushered in with ringing of bells, etc., for it is the son of his wife. Hogg comes in the evening; I like him better, though he vexed me by his attachment to sporting. A letter from Harriet confirming the news, in a letter from a deserted wife!! and telling us he has been born a week.

  Wednesday, December 7. — Clara and Shelley go out together; Shelley calls on the lawyers and on Harriet, who treats him with insulting selfishness; they return home wet and very tired. Read Agathon. I like it less to-day; he discovers many opinions which I think detestable. Work. In the evening Charles Clairmont comes. Hear that Place is trying to raise £1200 to pay Hume on Shelley’s post obit; affairs very bad in Skinner Street; afraid of a call for the rent; all very bad. Shelley walks home with Charles Clairmont; goes to Hookham’s about the £100 to lend my Father. Hookham out. He returns; very tired. Work in the evening.

  Thursday, December 8. — Shelley and Clara go to Hookham’s; get the £90 for my father; they are out, as usual, all morning. Finish Agathon. I do not like it; Wieland displays some most detestable opinions; he is one of those men who alter all their opinions when they are about forty, and then think it will be the same with every one, and that they are themselves the only proper monitors of youth. Work. When Shelley and Clara return, Shelley goes to Lambert’s; out. Work. In the evening Hogg comes; talk about a great number of things; he is more sincere this evening than I have seen him before. Odd dreams.

  Friday, December 16. — Still ill; heigh ho! Finish Jane Talbot. Hume calls at half-past 12; he tells of the great distress in Skinner Street; I do not see him. Hookham calls; hasty little man; he does not stay long. In the evening Hogg comes. Shelley and Clara are at first out; they have been to look for Charles Clairmont; they find him, and walk with him some time up and down Ely Place. Shelley goes to sleep early; very tired. We talk about flowers and trees in the evening; a country conversation.

  Saturday, December 17. — Very ill. Shelley and Clara go to Pike’s; when they return, Shelley goes to walk round the Square. Talk with Shelley in the evening; he sleeps, and I lie down on the bed. Jane goes to Pike’s at 9. Charles Clairmont comes, and talks about several things. Mrs. Godwin did not allow Fanny to come down to dinner on her receiving a lock of my hair. Fanny of course behaves slavishly on the occasion. He goes at half-past 11.

  Sunday, December 18. — Better, but far from well. Pass a very happy morning with Shelley. Charles Clairmont comes at dinner-time, the Skinner Street folk having gone to dine at the Kennie’s. Jane and he take a long walk together. Shelley and I are left alone. Hogg comes after Clara and her brother return. C. C. flies from the field on his approach. Conversation as usual. Get worse towards night.

  Monday, December 19 (Shelley). — Mary rathe
r better this morning. Jane goes to Hume’s about Godwin’s bills; learn that Lambert is inclined, but hesitates. Hear of a woman — supposed to be the daughter of the Duke of Montrose — who has the head of a hog. Suetonius is finished, and Shelley begins the Historia Augustana. Charles Clairmont comes in the evening; a discussion concerning female character. Clara imagines that I treat her unkindly; Mary consoles her with her all-powerful benevolence. I rise (having already gone to bed) and speak with Clara; she was very unhappy; I leave her tranquil.

  Tuesday, December 20 (Mary). — Shelley goes to Pike’s; take a short walk with him first. Unwell. A letter from Harriet, who threatens Shelley with her lawyer. In the evening read Emilia Galotti. Hogg comes. Converse of various things. He goes at twelve.

  Wednesday, December 21 (Shelley). — Mary is better. Shelley goes to Pike’s, to the Insurance Offices, and the lawyer’s; an agreement entered into for £3000 for £1000. A letter from Wales, offering post obit. Shelley goes to Hume’s; Mary reads Miss Baillie’s plays in the evening. Shelley goes to bed at 8; Mary at 11.

  Saturday, December 24 (Mary). — Read View of French Revolution. Walk out with Shelley, and spend a dreary morning waiting for him at Mr. Peacock’s. In the evening Hogg comes. I like him better each time; it is a pity that he is a lawyer; he wasted so much time on that trash that might be spent on better things.

  Sunday, December 25. — Christmas Day. Have a very bad side-ache in the morning, so I rise late. Charles Clairmont comes and dines with us. In the afternoon read Miss Baillie’s plays. Hogg spends the evening with us; conversation, as usual.