Love and Marriage
Extracts from Wollstoncraft, Godwin, and P. Shelley
For Shelleys: ENGL 450
Compiled by David S. Miall, University of Alberta
Wollstonecraft, from Vindication
Godwin, from Political Justice
P. Shelley, from Letters, etc.Mary Wollstonecraft, A Vindication of the Rights of Woman 1792 (Norton, 2nd ed., 1988).
From Chapter II, pp. 30-31.
I now allude to that part of Dr. Gregory's treatise [John Gregory, M.D., A Father's Legacy to His Daughters, 1774], where he advises a wife never to let her husband know the extent of her sensibility or affection. Voluptuous precaution, and as ineffectual as absurd. -- Love, from its very nature, must be transitory. To seek for a secret that would render it constant, would be as wild a search as for the philosopher's stone, or the grand panacea: and the discovery would be equally useless, or rather pernicious to mankind. The most holy band of society is friendship. It has been well said, by a shrewd satirist [La Rochfoucauld], "that rare as true love is, true friendship is still rarer."
This is an obvious truth, and the cause not lying deep, will not elude a slight glance of inquiry.
Love, the common passion, in which chance and sensation take place of choice and reason, is, in some degree, felt by the mass of mankind; for it is not necessary to speak, at present, of the emotions that rise above or sink below love. This passion, naturally increased by suspense and difficulties, draws the mind out of its accustomed state, and exalts the affections; but the security of marriage, allowing the fever of love to subside, a healthy temperature is thought insipid, only by those who have not sufficient intellect to substitute the calm tenderness of friendship, the confidence of respect, instead of blind admiration, and the sensual emotions of fondness.
This is, must be, the course of nature. -- Friendship or indifference inevitably succeeds love. -- And this constitution seems perfectly to harmonize with the system of government which prevails in the moral world. Passions are spurs to action, and open the mind; but they sink into mere appetites, become a personal and momentary gratification, when the object is gained, and the satisfied mind rests in enjoyment. The man who had some virtue whilst he was struggling for a crown, often becomes a voluptuous tyrant when it graces his brow; and, when the lover is not lost in the husband, the dotard, a prey to childish caprices, and fond jealousies, neglects the serious duties of life, and the caresses which should excite confidence in his children are lavished on the overgrown child, his wife.
In order to fulfil the duties of life, and to be able to pursue with vigour the various employments which form the moral character, a master and mistress of a family ought not to continue to love each other with passion. I mean to say, that they ought not to indulge those emotions which disturb the order of society, and engross the thoughts that should be otherwise employed. The mind that has never been engrossed by one object want vigour -- if it can long be so, it is weak.
From Chapter 5, p. 89. The passages quoted are from Rousseau's Émile.
But, granting that woman ought to be beautiful, innocent, and silly, to render her a more alluring and indulgent companion; -- what is her understanding sacrificed for? And why is all this preparation necessary only, according to Rousseau's own account [in Émile], to make her the mistress of her husband, a very short time? For no man ever insisted more on the transient nature of love. Thus speaks the philosopher. 'Sensual pleasures are transient. The habitual state of the affections always loses by their gratification. The imagination, which decks the object of our desires, is lost in fruition. Excepting the Supreme Being, who is self-existent, there is nothing beautiful but what is ideal.'
But he returns to his unintelligible paradoxes again, when he thus addresses Sophia. 'Emilius, in becoming your husband, is become your master; and claims your obedience. Such is the order of nature. When a man is married, however, to such a wife as Sophia, it is proper he should be directed by her: this is also agreeable to the order of nature: it is, therefore, to give you as much authority over his heart as his sex gives him over your person, that I have made you the arbiter of his pleasures. It may cost you, perhaps, some disagreeable self-denial; but you will be certain of maintaining your empire over him, if you can preserve it over yourself -- what I have already observed, also, shows me, that this difficult attempt does not surpass your courage.
'Would you have your husband constantly at your feet? keep him at some distance from your person. You will long maintain the authority in love, if you know but how to render your favours rare and valuable. It is thus you may employ even the arts of coquetry in the in the service of virtue, and those of love in that of reason.'
From Chapter 13, pp. 192-3.
That women at present are by ignorance rendered foolish or vicious, is, I think, not to be disputed; and, that the most salutary effects tending to improve mankind might be expected from a REVOLUTION in female manners, appears, at least, with a face of probability, to rise out of the observation. For as marriage has been termed the parent of those endearing charities which draw man from the brutal herd, the corrupting intercourse that wealth, idleness, and folly, produce between the sexes, is more universally injurious to morality than all the other vices of mankind collectively considered. To adulterous lust the most sacred duties are sacrificed, because before marriage, men, by a promiscuous intimacy with women, learned to consider love as a selfish gratification -- learned to separate it not only from esteem, but from the affection merely built on habit, which mixes a little humanity with it. Justice and friendship are also set at defiance, and that purity of taste is vitiated which would naturally lead a man to relish an artless display of affection rather than affected airs. But that noble simplicity of affection, which dares to appear unadorned, has few attractions for the libertine, though it be the charm, which by cementing the matrimonial tie, secures to the pledges of a warmer passion the necessary parental attention; for children will never be properly educated till friendship subsists between parents. Virtue flies from a house divided against itself -- and a whole legion of devils take up their residence there.
The affection of husbands and wives cannot be pure when they have so few sentiments in common, and when so little confidence is established at home, as must be the case when their pursuits are so different. That intimacy from which tenderness should flow, will not, cannot subsist between the vicious.
Contending, therefore, that the sexual distinction which men have so warmly insisted upon, is arbitrary, I have dwelt on an observation, that several sensible men, with whom I have conversed on the subject, allowed to be well founded; and it is simply this, that the little chastity to be found amongst men, and consequent disregard of modesty, tend to degrade both sexes; and further, that the modesty of women, characterized as such, will often be only the artful veil of wantonness instead of being the natural reflection of purity, till modesty be universally respected.
From the tyranny of man, I firmly believe, the greater number of female follies proceed; and the cunning, which I allow makes at present a part of their character, I likewise have repeatedly endeavoured to prove, is produced by oppression.
William Godwin, Enquiry Concerning Political Justice 3rd ed., 1798 (Penguin, 1976).
From Book VIII, Chapter 8, Appendix, pp. 761-65.
Another article which belongs to the subject of cooperation is cohabitation. The evils attendant on this practice are obvious. In order to the human understanding's being successfully cultivated, it is necessary that the intellectual operations of men should be independent of each other. We should avoid such practices as are calulated to melt our opinions into a common mould. Cohabitation is also hostile to that fortitude which should accustom a man, in his actions, as well as in his opinions, to judge for himself, and feel competent to the discharge of his own duties. Add to this, that it is absurd to expect the inclinations and wishes of two human beings to coincide, through any long period of time. To oblige them to act and to live together is to subject them to some inevitable portion of thwarting, bickering and unhappiness. This cannot be otherwise, so long as men shall continue to vary in their habits, their preferences and their views. No man is always cheerful and kind; and it is better that his fits of irritation should subside of themselves, since the mischief in that case is more limited, and since the jarring of opposite tempers, and the suggestions of a wounded pride, tend inexpressibly to increase the irritation. When I seek to correct the defects of a stranger, it is with urbanity and good humour. I have no idea of convincing him through the medium of surliness and invective. But something of this kind inevitably obtains where the intercourse is too unremitted.
The subject of cohabitation is particularly interesting as it includes in it the subject of marriage. It will therefore be proper to pursue the enquiry in greater detail. The evil of marriage, as it is practised in European countries, extends further than we have yet described. The method is for a thoughtless and romantic youth of each sex to come together, to see each other, for a few times and under circumstances full of delusion, and then to vow eternal attachment. What is the consequence of this? In almost every instance they find themselves deceived. They are reduced to make the best of an irretrievable mistake. They are led to conceive it their wisest policy to shut their eyes upon realities, happy, if, by any perversion of intellect, they can persuade themselves that they were right in their first crude opinion of each other. Thus the institution of marriage is made a system of fraud; and men who carefully mislead their judgements in the daily affair of their life must be expected to have a crippled judgement in every other concern.
Add to this that marriage, as now understood, is a monopoly, and the worst of monopolies. So long as two human beings are forbidden, by positive institution, to follow the dictates of their own mind, prejudice will be alive and vigorous. So long as I seek, by despotic and artificial means, to maintain my possession of a woman, I am guilty of the most odious selfishness. Over this imaginary prize, men watch with perpetual jealousy; and one man finds his desire, and his capacity to circumvent, as much excited as the other is excited to traverse his projects, and frustrate his hopes. As long as this state of society continues, philanthropy will be crossed and checked in a thousand ways, and the still augmenting stream of abuse will continue to flow.
The abolition of the present system of marriage appears to involve no evils. We are apt to represent that abolition to ourselves as the harbinger of brutal lust and depravity. But it really happens, in this, as in other cases, that the positive laws which are made to restrain our vices irritate and multiply them. Not to say that the same sentiments of justice and happiness which, in a state of equality, would destroy our relish for expensive gratifications might be expected to decrease our inordinate appetites of every kind, and to lead us universally to prefer the pleasures of intellect to the pleasures of sense.
It is a question of some moment whether the intercourse of the sexes, in a reasonable state of society, would be promiscuous, or whether each man would select for himself a partner to whom he will adhere as long as that adherence shall continue to be the choice of both parties. Probability seems to be greatly in favour of the latter. Perhaps this side of the alternative is most favourable to population. Perhaps it would suggest itself in preference to the man who would wish to maintain the several propensities of his frame, in the order due to their relative importance, and to prevent a merely sensual appetite from engrossing excessive attention. It is scarcely to be imagined that this commerce, in any state of society, will be stripped of its adjuncts, and that men will as willingly hold it with a woman whose personal and mental qualities they disapprove as with one of a different description. But it is the nature of the human mind to persist, for a certain length of time, in its opinion or choice. The parties therefore, having acted upon selection, are not likely to forget this selection when the interview is over. Friendship, if by friendship we understand that affection for an individual which is measured singly by what we know of his worth, is one of the most exquisite gratifications, perhaps one of the most improving exercises, of a rational mind. Friendship therefore may be expected to come in aid of the sexual intercourse, to refine its grossness, and increase its delight. All these arguments are calculated to determine our judgement in favour of marriage as a salutary and respectable institution, but not of that species of marriage in which there is no room for repentance and to which liberty and hope are equally strangers.
Admitting these principles therefore as the basis of the sexual commerce, what opinion ought we to form respecting infidelity to this attachment? Certainly no ties ought to be imposed upon either party, preventing them from quitting the attachment, whenever their judgement directs them to quit it. With respect to such infidelities as are compatible with an intention to adhere to it, the point of principal importance is a determination to have recourse to no species of disguise. In ordinary cases, and where the periods of absence are of no long duration, it would seem that any inconstancy would reflect some portion of discredit on the person that practised it. It would argue that the person's propensities were not under that kind of subordination which virtue and self-government appear to prescribe. But inconstancy, like any other temporary dereliction, would not be found incompatible with a character of uncommon excellence. What, at present, renders it, in many instances, peculiarly loathsome is its being practised in a clandestine manner. It leads to a train of falsehood and a concerted hypocrisy than which there is scarcely anything that more eminently depraves and degrades the human mind.
The mutual kindness of persons of an opposite sex will, in such a state, fall under the same system as any other species of friendship. Exclusively of groundless and obstinate attachments, it will be impossible for me to live in the world without finding in one man a worth superior to that of another. To this man I shall feel kindness in exact proportion to my apprehension of his worth. The case will be the same with respect to the other sex. I shall assiduously cultivate the intercourse of that woman whose moral and intellectual accomplishments strike me in the most powerful manner. But 'it may happen that other men will feel for her the same preference that I do'. This will create no difficulty. We may all enjoy her conversation; and, her choice being declared, we shall all be wise enough to consider the sexual commerce as unessential to our regard. It is a mark of the extreme depravity of our present habits that we are inclined to suppose the sexual commerce necessary to the advantages arising from the purest friendship. It is by no means indispensable that the female to whom each man attaches himself in that matter should appear to each the most deserving and excellent of her sex.
Percy Bysshe Shelley, from The Letters, ed. Frederick L. Jones (Oxford, 1964), Vol. I.
To Elizabeth Hitchener, 8 October 1811 (p. 144)
I saw you -- in one short week how changed were all my prospects -- how are we the slaves of circumstances; how bitterly I curse their bondage. Yet this was unavoidable. You will enquire how I an Atheist chose to subject myself to the ceremony of marriage, how my conscience could consent to it -- this is all I am now anxious of elucidating. Why I united myself thus to a female as it is not in itself immoral, can make no part in diminution of my rectitude. This if misconceived may --. I am indifferent to reputation, all are not. Reputation & its consequent advantages are rights to which every individual may lay claim unless he has justly forfeited them by an immoral action. Political rights also, which justly appertain equally to each ought only to be forfeited by immorality. Yet both of these must be dispensed with if two people live together without having undergone this ceremony of marriage -- how unjust this is! certainly it is not inconsistent with morality to evade these evils. -- how useless to attempt by singular examples to renovate the face of society, until reasoning has made so comprehensive a change as to emancipate the experimentalist from the resulting evils, & the prejudice with which his opinion (which ought to have weight for the sake of virtue,) would be heard by the immense majority. -- These are my reasons.
To Elizabeth Hitchener, 16 October 1811 (p. 149)
I write today, because not to answer such a letter as your's instantly eagerly I will add gratefully were impossible, but I shall be at Cuckfield on Friday night [the 18th]. My dearest friend, for I will call you so, you who understand my motives to action which I flatter myself unisonize with your own, you who can contemn the worlds prejudices, whose views are mine, I will dare to say I love, nor do I risk the possibility of that degrading & contemptible interpretation of this sacred word, nor do I risk the supposition that the lump of organised matter which enshrines thy soul excites the love which that soul alone dare claim. Henceforth will I be your's, your's with truth sincerity & unreserve; not a thought shall arise which shall not seek its responsion in your bosom, not a motive of action shall be uncanvassed by your cooler reason -- and by so doing do I not choose a criterion more infallible than my own consciousness of right & wrong (tho this may not be resigned) for what conflict of a frank mind is more terrible than the balance between two opposing importances of morality -- this is surely the only wretchedness to which a mind who only acknowledges virtue it's master can feel.
To Elizabeth Hitchener, 11 November 1811? (p. 173)
What is Love, or Friendship, is it something material, a ball an apple a plaything which must be taken from one to be given to another. Is it capable of no extension, no communication. -- Ld. Kames defines love to be a particularization of the general passion, but this is the love of sensation of sentiment. The absurdest of absurd vanities; it is the love of pleasure, not the love of happiness. -- The one is a love which is self-centered self devoted self-interested; it desires it's own interest, it is the parent of jealousy, its object is the plaything which it desires to monopolize -- selfishness, monopoly is its very soul, & to communicate to others part of this love were to d{es}troy its essence, to annihilate this chain of straw. -- But Love, the Love which we worship -- Virtue Heaven disinterestedness, in a word friendship, which has as much to do with the senses as with yonder mountains -- that which seeks the good of all; the good of it's object first, not because that object is a minister to it's pleasures, not merely because it even contributes to its happiness; but because it is really worthy, because it has power sensibilities is capable of abstracting self and loving virtue for Virtues own loveliness, desiring the happiness of others not from the obligation of fearing Hell or desiring Heaven, but for pure simple unsophisticated Virtue.
To Elizabeth Hitchener, 26 November 1811 (p. 194-5)
Miss Weeke's marriage induces you to think marriage an evil. I think it an evil, an evil of immense and extensive magnitude, but I think a previous reformation in morals, and that a general & a great one is requisite before it may be remedied. Man is the creature of circumstances, & these, casual circumstances, custom hath made unto him a second nature; that which hath no more to do with Virtue than the most indifferent actions of our lives hath been exalted into it's criterion, and from being considered so hath become one of its criterions -- Marriage is monopolizing, exclusive jealous -- the tie which binds it bears the same relation to 'friendship in which excess is lovely' that the body doth to the soul. Everything which relates simply to this clayformed dungeon is comparatively despicable, and in a state of perfectible society could not be made the subjects of either Virtue or Vice -- The most delicious st{rain}s of music, viands the most titillating to the pa{late}, wines of the most exquisite flavor, if it be innocent to derive delight from them (suppose such a case) it surely must be as innocent in whosesoever company it were derived. A Law to compel you to hear this music and in the company of such a particular person appears to me parallell to that of marriage -- were there even now such a law as this were this exclusiveness reckoned the criterion of virtue, it certainly would not be worth the while of rational people to 'offend their weak brothers' as St. Paul says 'by eating meats placed before the idols.' It ill would become them to risk the peace of others however prejudiced by gaining to themselves what from their souls they hold in contempt. Am I right ? it delights me to discuss, to be sceptical, thus we must arrive at truth, that introducer of Virtue to Usefulness.
To Thomas Jefferson Hogg, 4 October 1814 (pp. 401-02).
In the beginning of spring, I spent two months at Mrs. Boinville's without my wife. If I except the succeeding period these two months were probably the happiest of my life: the calmest the serenest the most free from care. The contemplation of female excellence is the favorite food of my imagination. Here was ample scope for admiration: novelty added a peculiar charm to the intrinsic merit of the objects: I had been unaccustomed to the mildness the intelligence the delicacy of a cultivated female. The presence of Mrs. Boinville & her daughter afforded a strange contrast to my former friendless & deplorable condition. I suddenly perceived that the entire devotion with which I had resigned all prospects of utility or happiness to the single purpose of cultivating Harriet was a gross & despicable superstition. -- Perhaps every degree of affectionate intimacy with a female, however slight, partakes of the nature of love. Love makes men quicksighted, & is only called blind by the multitude because he perceives the existence of relations invisible to grosser optics. I saw the full extent of the calamity which my rash & heartless union with Harriet: an union over whose entrance might justly be in[s]cribedLasciate ogni speranza voi ch'entrate!
[Abandon hope all ye who enter here!]had produced. I felt as if a dead & living body had been linked together in loathsome & horrible communion. It was no longer possible to practice self deception: I believed that one revolting duty yet remained, to continue to deceive my wife. -- I wandered in the fields alone. The season was most beautiful. The evenings were so serene & mild -- I never had before felt so intensely the subduing voluptuousness of the impulses of spring. Manifestations of my approaching change tinged my waking thoughts, & afforded inexhaustible subject for the visions of my sleep. I recollect that one day I undertook to walk from Bracknell to my father's, (40 miles). A train of visionary events arranged themselves in my imagination until ideas almost acquired the intensity of sensations. Already I had met the female [Mary Godwin] who was destined to be mine, already had she replied to my exulting recognition, already were the difficulties surmounted that opposed an entire union. I had even proceeded so far as to compose a letter to Harriet on the subject of my passion for another. Thus was my walk beguiled, at the conclusion of which I was hardly sensible of fatigue. --
In the month of June I came to London to accomplish some business with Godwin that had been long depending. The circumstances of the case required an almost constant residence at his house. Here I met his daughter Mary. The originality & loveliness of Mary's character was apparent to me from her very motions & tones of voice. The irresistible wildness & sublimity of her feelings shewed itself in her gestures and her looks -- Her smile, how persuasive it was & how pathetic! She is gentle, to be convinced & tender; yet not incapable of ardent indignation & hatred. I do not think that there is an excellence at which human nature can arrive, that she does not indisputably possess, or of which her character does not afford manifest intimations.
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Document updated August 9th 2003