ason. He declared that any article of property justly belongs to those
who most want it, "or to whom the possession of it will be most
beneficial." But his objection to the marriage law seemed the most
glaringly immoral part of his philosophy. He assailed theoretically an
institution for which Mary Wollstonecraft had practically shown her
disapprobation. His reasoning in this regard is curious, and reveals the
little importance he attached to passion. He disapproved of the marriage
tie because he thought that two people who are bound together by it are
not at liberty to follow the dictates of their own minds, and hence are
not acting in accordance with pure reason. Free love or a system of
voluntary divorce would be less immoral, because in either of these cases
men and women would be self-ruled, and therefore could be relied upon to
do what is right. Besides, according to his ideal of justice in the
matter of property, a man or a woman belongs to whomsoever most needs him
or her, irrespective of any relations already formed. It follows
naturally that the children born in a community where these ideas are
adopted are to be educated by the state, and must not be subjected to
rules or discipline, but taught from the beginning to regulate their
conduct by the light of reason. Godwin, like so many other philosophers
of his times, based his arguments upon abstract principles, and failed to
seek concrete proofs. He built up a structure beautiful in theory, but
impossible in real life until man develops into a very much higher order
of being. An enthusiast, despite his calmness, he looked forward to the
time when death would be an evil of the past, and when no new men would
be born into the world. He believed that the day would come when "there
will be no war, no crimes, no administration of justice, as it is called,
and no government." There will be "neither disease, anguish, melancholy,
nor resentment. Every man will seek with ineffable ardor the good of
all." Human optimism could go no farther.

It is not surprising that his book made a stir in the political world.
None of the Revolutionists had delivered themselves of such
ultra-revolutionary sentiments. Men had been accused of high treason for
much more moderate views. Perhaps it was their very extravagance that
saved him, though he accounted for it in another way. "I have
frequently," Mrs. Shelley explains, "heard my father say that 'Political
Justice' escaped prosecution