from the reason that it appeared in a form
too expensive for general acquisition. Pitt observed, when the question
was debated in the Privy Council, that 'a three-guinea book could never
do much harm among those who had not three shillings to spare.'" Godwin
purposely published his work in this expensive form because he knew that
by so doing he would keep it from the multitude, whose passions he would
have been the last to arouse or to stimulate. He only wished it to be
studied by men too enlightened to encourage abrupt innovation. _Festina
lente_ was his motto. The success of the book, however, went beyond his
expectations and perhaps his intentions. Three editions were issued in as
many years. Among the class of readers to whom he immediately appealed,
the verdict passed upon it varied. Dr. Priestley thought it very
original, and that it would probably prove useful, though its fundamental
principles were too pure to be practical. Horne Tooke pronounced it a bad
book, calculated to do harm. The Rev. Samuel Newton's vigorous
disapproval of it caused a final breach between Godwin and his old tutor.
As a rule, the Liberal party accepted it as the work of inspiration, and
the conservative condemned it as the outcome of atheism and political
rebellion. When Godwin, after its publication, made a trip into
Warwickshire to stay with Dr. Parr, he found that his fame had preceded
him. He was known to the reading public in the counties as well as in the
capital, and he was everywhere received with curiosity and kindness. To
no one whom he met was he a stranger.

His novel, "Caleb Williams," established his literary reputation. Its
success almost realized Mrs. Inchbald's prediction that "fine ladies,
milliners, mantua-makers, and boarding-school girls will love to tremble
over it, and that men of taste and judgment will admire the superior
talents, the _incessant_ energy of mind you have evinced." He was at this
time one of the most conspicuous and most talked-about men in London. He
counted among his friends and acquaintances all the distinguished men and
women of the day; among whom he was in great demand, notwithstanding the
fact that he talked neither much nor well, and that not even the most
brilliant conversation could prevent his taking short naps when in
company. But he was extremely fond of social pleasures. His philosophy
had made him neither an ascetic nor an anchorite. He worked for only
three or four hours each day; a