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 formality of an acceptance. Like the great
lords of Picardy, who had the "right of credit" from their loyal
subjects, Godwin claimed his dues from every chance acquaintance.
Crabb Robinson introduced him one evening to a gentleman named Rough.
The next day both Godwin and Rough called upon their host, each man
expressing his regard for the other, and each asking Robinson if he
thought the other would be a likely person to lend him fifty pounds.

There are critics who hold that Haydon excelled all other borrowers
known to fame; but his is not a career upon which an admirer of the
art can look with pleasure. Haydon's debts hunted him like hounds,
and if he pursued borrowing as a means of livelihood,--more lucrative
than painting pictures which nobody would buy,--it was only because
no third avocation presented itself as