, in the affair. When, in
the course of things, the disclosure came, there was nothing, in a
manner, for either party to disclose to the other.... It was
friendship melting into love."

CHAPTER XIII.

LIFE WITH GODWIN: MARRIAGE.

1796-1797.

Godwin and Mary did not at once marry. The former, in his "Political
Justice," had frankly confessed to the world that he thought the existing
institution of marriage an evil. Mary had by her conduct avowed her
agreement with him. But their views in this connection having already
been fully stated need not be repeated. In omitting to seek legal
sanction to their union both were acting in perfect accord with their
standard of morality. Judged according to their motives, neither can be
accused of wrong-doing. Pure in their own eyes, they deserve to be so in
the world's esteem. Their mistake consisted in their disregard of the
fact that, to preserve social order in the community, sacrifices are
required from the individual. They forgot--as Godwin, who was opposed to
sudden change, should not have forgotten--that laws made for men in
general cannot be arbitrarily altered to suit each man in particular.

Godwin, strange to say, was ruled in this matter not only by principle,
but by sentiment. For the first time his emotions were stirred, and he
really loved. He was more awed by his passion than a more susceptible man
would have been. It seemed to him too sacred to flaunt before the
public. "Nothing can be so ridiculous upon the face of it," he says in
the story of their love, "or so contrary to the genuine march of
sentiment, as to require the overflowing of the soul to wait upon a
ceremony, and that which, wherever delicacy and imagination exist, is of
all things most sacredly private, to blow a trumpet before it, and to
record the moment when it has arrived at its climax." Mary was anxious to
conceal, at least for a time, their new relationship. She was not ashamed
of it, for never, even when her actions seem most daring, did she swerve
from her ideas of right and wrong. But though, as a rule, people had
blinded themselves to the truth, some bitter things had been said about
her life with Imlay, and some friends had found it their duty to be
unkind. All that was unpleasant she had of course heard. One is always
sure to hear the evil spoken of one. A second offence against social
decrees would assuredly call forth redoubled discussion and increased
vituperat