Editing William Hazlitt (section)

===Journalist, essayist, and ''Liber Amoris'' (1812–1823)===
====Journalist====
[[File:19 York Street, Westminster (1848).jpg|thumb|The back of No. 19, York Street (1848). In 1651 [[John Milton]] moved into a "pretty garden-house" in [[Petty France, London|Petty France]]. He lived there until the [[Restoration (England)|Restoration]]. Later it became No. 19 York Street, belonged to [[Jeremy Bentham]], was occupied successively by [[James Mill]] and William Hazlitt, and was demolished in 1877.{{sfn|Stephen|1894|p=32}}]]

In October 1812, Hazlitt was hired by ''[[Morning Chronicle|The Morning Chronicle]]'' as a parliamentary reporter. Soon he met [[John Hunt (publisher)|John Hunt]], publisher of ''[[The Examiner (1808–86)|The Examiner]]'', and his younger brother [[James Henry Leigh Hunt|Leigh Hunt]], the poet and essayist, who edited the weekly paper. Hazlitt admired both as champions of liberty, and befriended especially the younger Hunt, who found work for him. He began to contribute miscellaneous essays to ''The Examiner'' in 1813, and the scope of his work for the ''Chronicle'' was expanded to include [[theatre criticism|drama criticism]], [[literary criticism]], and political essays. In 1814, ''The Champion'' was added to the list of periodicals that accepted Hazlitt's by-now profuse output of literary and [[political criticism]]. A critique of [[Joshua Reynolds]]' theories about art appeared there as well, one of Hazlitt's major forays into [[art criticism]].<ref>Wardle, pp. 132, 144, 145.</ref>

Having by 1814 become established as a journalist, Hazlitt had begun to earn a satisfactory living. A year earlier, with the prospect of a steady income, he had moved his family to a house at 19 [[Petty France, London|York Street]], [[Westminster]], which had been occupied by the poet [[John Milton]], whom Hazlitt admired above all English poets except [[William Shakespeare|Shakespeare]]. As it happened, Hazlitt's landlord was the philosopher and [[Reform movement|social reformer]] [[Jeremy Bentham]]. Hazlitt was to write extensively about both Milton and Bentham over the next few years.<ref>Wardle, pp. 133, 134.</ref>

His circle of friends expanded, though he never seems to have been particularly close with any but the Lambs and to an extent Leigh Hunt and the painter [[Benjamin Haydon|Benjamin Robert Haydon]]. His low tolerance for any who, he thought, had abandoned the cause of liberty, along with his frequent outspokenness, even tactlessness, in social situations made it difficult for many to feel close to him, and at times he tried the patience of even Charles Lamb.<ref>Wardle, p. 146.</ref> In ''The Examiner'' in late 1814, Hazlitt was the first to provide a critique of Wordsworth's poem ''[[The Excursion]]'' (Hazlitt's review appeared weeks before [[Francis Jeffrey, Lord Jeffrey|Francis Jeffrey]]'s notorious dismissal of the poem with the words "This will never do").<ref>Bromwich, p. 158.</ref> He lavished extreme praise on the poet—and equally extreme censure. While praising the poem's sublimity and intellectual power, he took to task the intrusive egotism of its author. Clothing landscape and incident with the poet's personal thoughts and feelings suited this new sort of poetry very well; but his abstract philosophical musing too often steered the poem into didacticism, a leaden counterweight to its more imaginative flights.<ref>Wordsworth might as well, wrote Hazlitt, have "given to his work the form of a didactic poem altogether." ''Works'', vol. 4, p. 113. According to David Bromwich, Hazlitt thought that "in ''The Excursion'' the two great impulses of romance, to tell a story and to give instruction, have thus separated out completely." Bromwich, p. 166.</ref> Wordsworth, who seems to have been unable to tolerate anything less than unqualified praise, was enraged, and relations between the two became cooler than ever.<ref>Wardle, pp. 146, 171, 183.</ref>

Though Hazlitt continued to think of himself as a "metaphysician", he began to feel comfortable in the role of journalist. His self-esteem received an added boost when he was invited to contribute to the quarterly ''[[Edinburgh Review|The Edinburgh Review]]'' (his contributions, beginning in early 1815, were frequent and regular for some years), the most distinguished periodical on the [[Whigs (British political party)|Whig]] side of the political fence (its rival ''[[Quarterly Review|The Quarterly Review]]'' occupied the [[Tories (British political party)|Tory]] side). Writing for so highly respected a publication was considered a major step up from writing for weekly papers, and Hazlitt was proud of this connection.<ref>Wardle, p. 152. By 1825, Hazlitt, having become well known as a journalist, was lampooned (very briefly) as the character Will Hazelpipes in ''John Paterson's Mare'', [[James Hogg]]'s allegorical satire on the [[Edinburgh]] publishing scene first published in the ''Newcastle Magazine''. Hunter, Adrian (ed.) (2020), ''James Hogg: Contributions to English, Irish and American Periodicals'', [[Edinburgh University Press]], pp. 19–34, 213. {{isbn|9780748695980}}</ref>

On 18 June 1815, Napoleon was defeated at [[Battle of Waterloo|Waterloo]]. Having idolised Napoleon for years, Hazlitt took it as a personal blow. The event seemed to him to mark the end of hope for the common man against the oppression of "legitimate" monarchy.<ref>It was "the death of the cause of human freedom in his time", as Wardle put it, p. 157.</ref> Profoundly depressed, he took up heavy drinking and was reported to have walked around unshaven and unwashed for weeks.<ref>Wardle, p. 157.</ref> He idolised and spoiled his son, William Jr., but in most respects his household grew increasingly disordered over the following year: his marriage deteriorated, and he spent more and more time away from home. His part-time work as a drama critic provided him with an excuse to spend his evenings at the theatre. Afterwards he would then tarry with those friends who could tolerate his irascibility, the number of whom dwindled as a result of his occasionally outrageous behaviour.<ref>Wardle, p. 162.</ref>

Hazlitt continued to produce articles on miscellaneous topics for ''The Examiner'' and other periodicals, including political diatribes against any who he felt ignored or minimised the needs and rights of the common man. Defection from the cause of liberty had become easier in light of the oppressive political atmosphere in England at that time, in reaction to the French Revolution and the [[Napoleonic Wars]]. The Hunts were his primary allies in opposing this tendency. Lamb, who tried to remain uninvolved politically, tolerated his abrasiveness, and that friendship managed to survive, if only just barely in the face of Hazlitt's growing bitterness, short temper, and propensity for hurling invective at friends and foes alike.<ref>Wardle, pp. 171–74.</ref>

For relief from all that weighed on his mind, Hazlitt became a passionate player at a kind of [[rackets (sport)|racquet ball]] similar to the game of [[Fives]] (a type of handball of which he was a fan) in that it was played against a wall. He competed with savage intensity, dashing around the court like a madman, drenched in sweat, and was accounted a good player. More than just a distraction from his woes, his devotion to this pastime led to musings on the value of competitive sports and on human skill in general, expressed in writings like his notice of the "Death of [[John Cavanagh (fives player)| John Cavanagh]]" (a celebrated Fives player) in ''The Examiner'' on 9 February 1817, and the essay "The Indian Jugglers" in ''[[Table-Talk]]'' (1821).<ref>Maclean, pp. 393–95; Wardle, pp. 162–64. See also Hazlitt, ''Works'', vol. 12, pp. 77–89.</ref>

Early in 1817, forty of Hazlitt's essays that had appeared in ''The Examiner'' in a regular column called "The Round Table", along with a dozen pieces by Leigh Hunt in the same series, was [[The Round Table (1817 book)|collected in book form]]. Hazlitt's contributions to ''The Round Table'' were written somewhat in the manner of the periodical essays of the day, a genre defined by such eighteenth-century magazines as ''[[Tatler (1709)|The Tatler]]'' and ''[[The Spectator (1711)|The Spectator]]''.<ref name="Law, p. 8">Law, p. 8.</ref>

The far-ranging eclectic variety of the topics treated would typify his output in succeeding years: Shakespeare ("On the [[A Midsummer Night's Dream|Midsummer Night's Dream]]"), Milton ("On Milton's [[Lycidas]]"), art criticism ("On Hogarth's [[Marriage a-la-mode (Hogarth)|Marriage a-la-mode]]"), aesthetics ("On Beauty"), drama criticism ("On Mr. Kean's [[Iago]]"; Hazlitt was the first critic to champion the acting talent of [[Edmund Kean]]),<ref>Maclean, p. 300.</ref> social criticism ("On the Tendency of Sects", "On the Causes of [[Methodism]]", "On Different Sorts of Fame").

There was an article on ''The Tatler'' itself. Mostly his political commentary was reserved for other vehicles, but included was a "Character of the Late [[William Pitt the Younger|Mr. Pitt]]", a scathing characterisation of the recently deceased former Prime Minister. Written in 1806, Hazlitt liked it well enough to have already had it printed twice before (and it would appear again in a collection of political essays in 1819).

Some essays blend Hazlitt's social and psychological observations in a calculatedly thought-provoking way, presenting to the reader the "paradoxes" of human nature.<ref>Hazlitt's extreme way of making a point seemed to develop naturally. Yet it was to an extent a consciously applied device. See Gerald Lahey, "Introduction", Hazlitt, ''Letters'', p. 11, and Hazlitt's own letter to Macvey Napier on 2 April 1816: "I confess I am apt to be paradoxical in stating an extreme opinion when I think the prevailing one not quite correct", p. 158.</ref> The first of the collected essays, "On the Love of Life", explains, "It is our intention, in the course of these papers, occasionally to expose certain vulgar errors, which have crept into our reasonings on men and manners.... The love of life is ... in general, the effect not of our enjoyments, but of our passions".<ref>''Works'', vol. 4, p. 1.</ref>

Again, in "On Pedantry", Hazlitt declares that "The power of attaching an interest to the most trifling or painful pursuits ... is one of the greatest happinesses of our nature".<ref>''Works'', vol. 4, p. 80.</ref> In "On Different Sorts of Fame", "In proportion as men can command the immediate and vulgar applause of others, they become indifferent to that which is remote and difficult of attainment".<ref>''Works'', vol. 4, p. 95.</ref> And in "On Good-Nature", "Good nature, or what is often considered as such, is the most selfish of all the virtues...."<ref>''Works'', vol. 4, p. 100.</ref>

Many of the components of Hazlitt's style begin to take shape in these ''Round Table'' essays. Some of his "paradoxes" are so [[Hyperbole|hyperbolic]] as to shock when encountered out of context: "All country people hate each other", for example, from the second part of "On Mr. Wordsworth's Excursion".<ref>''Works'', vol. 4, p. 122.</ref> He interweaves quotations from literature old and new, helping drive his points home with concentrated allusiveness and wielded extraordinarily efficiently as a critical instrument. Yet, although his use of quotations is (as many critics have felt) as fine as any author's has ever been,<ref>Law, p. 42. See also Paul Hamilton, "Hazlitt and the 'Kings of Speech'", in Natarajan, Paulin, and Wu, pp. 69, 76: "Hazlitt's most powerful critical effect is to get his readers to think through quotations, and so benefit from his opening of cultural reservoirs to irrigate the understanding of the common reader."; "His own essays integrate marvellously inventive and pointed patchworks of quotations ... we are obliged perpetually to witness, through frequent citation, ... the legitimacy and advantage of appropriating the language of others to promote our most intimate, private sense of self. ... Hazlitt is never repetitious in his ventriloquizing; he never turns quotations into tags, is never sententious."; and Bromwich, pp. 275–87.</ref> all too often he gets the quotes wrong.<ref>Albrecht, p. 184: "Hazlitt's quotations are notoriously inaccurate."</ref> In one of his essays on Wordsworth he misquotes Wordsworth himself:

:Though nothing can bring back the hour
:Of glory in the grass, of splendour in the flower....<ref>Misquoted this way elsewhere as well; the original has "splendour in the grass ... glory in the flower". ''Works'', vol. 4, p. 119.</ref>
:(See [[Ode: Intimations of Immortality|Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood]].)

Though Hazlitt was still following the model of the older periodical essayists,<ref>Notable for a certain whimsy, for frequent "characters" (sketches of typical character types), for use of fictitious or real interpolated letters, and for an informal tone—though not to the degree of the "familiar essay". Law, p.8.</ref> these quirks, together with his keen social and psychological insights, began here to coalesce into a style very much his own.<ref>"Regardless of subject matter, the style was consistently arresting". Wardle, p. 184.</ref>

====Success—and trouble====
In the meantime, Hazlitt's marriage continued its downward spiral; he was writing furiously for several periodicals to make ends meet; waiting so far in vain for the collection ''The Round Table'' to be issued as a book (which it finally was in February 1817); suffering bouts of illness; and making enemies by his venomous political diatribes. He found relief by a change of course, shifting the focus of his analysis from the acting of Shakespeare's plays to the substance of the works themselves. The result was a collection of critical essays entitled ''[[Characters of Shakespear's Plays]]'' (1817).<ref>Wardle, pp. 181–97.</ref>

His approach was something new. There had been criticisms of Shakespeare before, but either they were not comprehensive or they were not aimed at the general reading public. As Ralph Wardle put it, before Hazlitt wrote this book, "no one had ever attempted a comprehensive study of all of Shakespeare, play by play, that readers could read and reread with pleasure as a guide to their understanding and appreciation".<ref>All of Shakespeare's plays, that is, if one excludes those few plays not then believed to be primarily by Shakespeare or by him at all. Wardle, p. 204.</ref> Somewhat loosely organised, and even rambling, the studies offer personal appreciations of the plays that are unashamedly enthusiastic. Hazlitt does not present a measured account of the plays' strengths and weaknesses, as did Dr. Johnson, or view them in terms of a "mystical" theory, as Hazlitt thought his contemporary [[August Wilhelm Schlegel|A.W. Schlegel]] did (though he approves of many of Schlegel's judgements and quotes him liberally). Without apology, he addresses his readers as fellow lovers of Shakespeare and shares with them the beauties of what he thought the finest passages of the plays he liked best.<ref>Wardle, pp.197–202.</ref>

Readers took to it, the first edition selling out in six weeks. It received favourable reviews as well, not only by Leigh Hunt, whose bias as a close friend might be questioned, but also by Francis Jeffrey, the editor of ''The Edinburgh Review'', a notice that Hazlitt greatly appreciated. Though he contributed to that quarterly, and corresponded with its editor on business, he had never met Jeffrey, and the two were in no sense personal friends. For Jeffrey, the book was not so much a learned study of Shakespeare's plays as much as a loving and eloquent appreciation, full of insight, which displayed "considerable originality and genius".<ref>Wardle, p. 203.</ref>

This critical and popular acclaim offered Hazlitt the prospect of getting out of debt, and allowed him to relax and bask in the light of his growing fame.<ref>Wardle, p. 240.</ref> In literary circles however, his reputation had been tarnished in the meantime: he had openly taken both Wordsworth and Coleridge to task on personal grounds and for failing to fulfill the promise of their earlier accomplishments, and both were apparently responsible for retaliatory rumours which seriously damaged Hazlitt's repute.<ref>"By the end of 1817 Hazlitt's reputation had received almost irreparable injury." Maclean, p. 361.</ref> And the worst was yet to come.

Nonetheless Hazlitt's satisfaction at the relief he gained from his financial woes was supplemented by the positive response his return to the lecture hall received. In early 1818 he delivered a series of talks on "the English Poets", from [[Geoffrey Chaucer|Chaucer]] to his own time. Though somewhat uneven in quality, his lectures were ultimately judged a success. In making arrangements for the lectures, he had met [[Peter George Patmore]], Assistant Secretary of the [[Surrey Institution]] where the lectures were presented. Patmore soon became a friend as well as Hazlitt's confidant in the most troubled period of the latter's life.<ref>Wardle, pp. 211–22; Jones, p. 281.</ref>

The Surrey Institution lectures were printed in book form, followed by a collection of his drama criticism, ''[[A View of the English Stage]]'', and the second edition of ''Characters of Shakespear's Plays''.<ref>Wardle, p. 224.</ref> Hazlitt's career as a lecturer gained some momentum, and his growing popularity allowed him to get a collection of his political writings published as well, ''Political Essays, with Sketches of Public Characters''.<ref>Wardle, p. 244.</ref> Lectures on "the English Comic Writers" soon followed, and these as well were published in book form.<ref>Wardle, pp. 236–40.</ref> He then delivered lectures on dramatists contemporary with Shakespeare, which were published as ''Lectures on the Dramatic Literature of the Age of Elizabeth''. This series of talks did not receive the public acclaim that his earlier lectures had, but were reviewed enthusiastically after they were published.<ref>Wardle, pp. 249–56.</ref>

More trouble was brewing, however. Hazlitt was attacked brutally in ''The Quarterly Review'' and ''[[Blackwood's Magazine]]'', both Tory publications. One ''Blackwood's'' article mocked him as "pimpled Hazlitt", accused him of ignorance, dishonesty, and obscenity, and incorporated vague physical threats. Though Hazlitt was rattled by these attacks, he sought legal advice and sued. The lawsuit against ''Blackwood's'' was finally settled out of court in his favour.<ref>Wardle, pp. 229–34.</ref> Yet the attacks did not entirely cease. The ''Quarterly Review'' issued a review of Hazlitt's published lectures in which he was condemned as ignorant and his writing as unintelligible. Such partisan onslaughts brought spirited responses. One, unlike an earlier response to the ''Blackwood's'' attack that never saw the light of day, was published, as ''A Letter to William Gifford, Esq.'' (1819; [[William Gifford|Gifford]] was the editor of the ''Quarterly''). The pamphlet, notable also for deploying the term [[Ultracrepidarianism|ultracrepidarian]], which Hazlitt himself may have coined, amounts to an ''[[apologia]]'' for his life and work thus far and showed he was well able to defend himself.<ref>Wardle, pp. 243–44.</ref> Yet Hazlitt's attackers had done their damage. Not only was he personally shaken, he found it more difficult to have his works published, and once more he had to struggle for a living.<ref>Wardle, pp. 231, 255, 257.</ref>

====Solitude and infatuation====
His lecturing in particular had drawn to Hazlitt a small group of admirers. Best known today is the poet [[John Keats]],<ref>Bate, p. 259; Wardle, p. 278.</ref> who not only attended the lectures but became Hazlitt's friend in this period.<ref name="Grayling, pp. 209–10"/> The two met in November 1816<ref>Wu, pp. 196–97.</ref> through their mutual friend, the painter Benjamin Robert Haydon, and were last seen together in May 1820 at a dinner given by Haydon.<ref>Howe, p. 297.</ref> In those few years before the poet's untimely death, the two read and admired each other's work,<ref>''Works'', vol. 12, p. 225.</ref> and Keats, as a younger man seeking guidance, solicited Hazlitt's advice on a course of reading and direction in his career.<ref>Bate, p. 609; Wardle, pp. 221, 252.</ref> Some of Keats's writing, particularly his key idea of "[[negative capability]]", was influenced by the concept of "disinterested sympathy" he discovered in Hazlitt,<ref>Bate, pp. 259–62; Wu, p. 197; Corrigan, p. 148.</ref> whose work the poet devoured.<ref>Bate, pp. 216, 240, 262, 461.</ref> Hazlitt, on his part, later wrote that of all the younger generation of poets, Keats showed the most promise, and he became Keats's first anthologist when he included several of Keats's poems in a collection of British poetry he compiled in 1824, three years after Keats's death.<ref>Wu, pp. 197, 287, 356. The relationship between Hazlitt and Keats is explored in depth in Bromwich, pp. 362–401. See also Natarajan, pp. 107–119; Ley, p. 61, note 13.</ref>

Less well known today than Keats were others who loyally attended his lectures and constituted a small circle of admirers, such as the diarist and chronicler [[Henry Crabb Robinson]]<ref>Jones, p. 281; Robinson, however, sharply disapproved of Hazlitt's moral character.</ref> and the novelist [[Mary Russell Mitford]].<ref>Jones, pp. 314–15.</ref> But the rumours that had been spread demonising Hazlitt, along with the vilifications of the Tory press, not only hurt his pride but seriously obstructed his ability to earn a living. Income from his lectures had also proved insufficient to keep him afloat.

His thoughts drifted to gloom and misanthropy. His mood was not improved by the fact that by now there was no pretence of keeping up appearances: his marriage had failed. Years earlier he had grown resigned to the lack of love between him and Sarah. He had been visiting prostitutes and displayed more idealised amorous inclinations toward a number of women whose names are lost to history. Now in 1819, he was unable to pay the rent on their rooms at 19 York Street and his family were evicted. That was the last straw for Sarah, who moved into rooms with their son and broke with Hazlitt for good, forcing him to find his own accommodation. He would sometimes see his son and even his wife, with whom he remained on speaking terms, but they were effectively separated.<ref>Jones, p. 305.</ref>

At this time Hazlitt would frequently retreat for long periods to the countryside he had grown to love since his marriage, staying at the "[[Winterslow Hut]]", a [[coaching inn]] at Winterslow, near a property his wife owned.<ref name=":0" /> This was both for solace and to concentrate on his writing. He explained his motivation as one of not wanting to withdraw completely but rather to become an invisible observer of society, "to become a silent spectator of the mighty scene of things ... to take a thoughtful, anxious interest in what is passing in the world, but not to feel the slightest inclination to make or meddle with it."<ref>Words written in [[Winterslow Hut]] on 18 and 19 January 1821, as Hazlitt informs the reader in a footnote to the essay soon published as "On Living to One's-Self", ''Works'', vol. 8, p. 91.</ref> Thus, for days on end, he would shut himself away and write for periodicals, including the recently re-established (1820) ''[[The London Magazine|London Magazine]]'', to which he contributed drama criticism and miscellaneous essays.<ref>Jones, pp. 303–18.</ref>
[[File:Roman road towards Middle Winterslow - geograph.org.uk - 970807.jpg|thumb|left|[[Roman roads|Roman road]] toward Middle [[Winterslow]], and the route which Hazlitt preferred to take to the village<ref>Wu 2008, p. 120.</ref>]]

One idea that particularly bore fruit was that of a series of articles called "Table-Talk". (Many were written expressly for inclusion in the book of the same title, ''[[Table-Talk; or, Original Essays]]'', which appeared in different editions and forms over the next few years.) These essays, structured in the loose manner of [[Table talk (literature)|table talk]], were written in the "familiar style" of the sort devised two centuries earlier by [[Michel de Montaigne|Montaigne]], whom Hazlitt greatly admired.<ref>Wardle, pp. 262–63; Bromwich, pp. 345–47.</ref> The personal "I" was now substituted for the editorial "we" in a careful remodulation of style that carried the spirit of these essays far from that of the typical eighteenth-century periodical essay, to which he had more closely adhered in ''[[The Round Table (1817 book)|The Round Table]]''.<ref name="Law, p. 8"/> In a preface to a later edition of ''Table-Talk'', Hazlitt explained that in these essays he eschewed scholarly precision in favour of a combination of the "literary and the conversational". As in conversation among friends, the discussion would often branch off into topics related only in a general way to the main theme, "but which often threw a curious and striking light upon it, or upon human life in general".<ref>''Works'', vol. 8, p. 33.</ref>

In these essays, many of which have been acclaimed as among the finest in the language,<ref>Bromwich, p. 347; Grayling, pp. 258, 360.</ref> Hazlitt weaves personal material into more general reflections on life, frequently bringing in long recollections of happy days of his years as an apprentice painter (as in "On the Pleasure of Painting", written in December 1820)<ref>''Works'', vol. 8, pp. 5–21.</ref> as well as other pleasurable recollections of earlier years, "hours ... sacred to silence and to musing, to be treasured up in the memory, and to feed the source of smiling thoughts thereafter" ("On Going a Journey", written January 1822).<ref>''Works'', vol. 8, p. 185. See also Jones, pp.307–8.</ref>

Hazlitt also had to spend time in London in these years. In another violent contrast, a London lodging house was the stage on which the worst crisis of his life was to play itself out.<ref>Though Hazlitt's relationship with Sarah Walker was an aspect of his life even his admirers through the Victorian era preferred to overlook, it has received ample attention since then. See Maclean, pp. 415–502; Wardle, pp. 268–365; Jones, pp. 308–48.</ref>

In August 1820, a month after his father's death at the age of 83, he rented a couple of rooms in 9 Southampton Buildings in London from a tailor named Micaiah Walker. Walker's 19-year-old daughter Sarah, who helped with the housekeeping, would bring the new lodger his breakfast. Immediately, Hazlitt became infatuated with Miss Walker, more than 22 years his junior. (Before much longer, this "infatuation" turned into a protracted obsession.)<ref>As Grayling writes, Hazlitt "gave into his feelings at their first impulse, and invariably suffered the consequences. In the case of Sarah Walker, 'suffered' is a wholly inadequate word. His obsession with her drove him almost mad." Grayling, p. 261.</ref> His brief conversations with Walker cheered him and alleviated the loneliness that he felt from his failed marriage and the recent death of his father.<ref>As Maurice Whelan has noted, "What has been generally ignored is that exactly one month before he first set eyes on Sarah Walker, Hazlitt's father died. This event has been afforded little significance in his life." Whelan, p. 89.</ref> He dreamed of marrying her, but that would require a divorce from Sarah Hazlitt—no easy matter. Finally, his wife agreed to grant him a Scottish divorce, which would allow him to remarry (as he could not had he been divorced in England).<ref>Wardle, p. 304.</ref>

Sarah Walker was, as some of Hazlitt's friends could see, a fairly ordinary girl. She had aspirations to better herself, and a famous author seemed like a prize catch, but she never really understood Hazlitt.<ref>Grayling, p. 290.</ref> When another lodger named Tomkins came along, she entered into a romantic entanglement with him as well, leading each of her suitors to believe he was the sole object of her affection. With vague words, she evaded absolute commitment until she could decide which she liked better or was the more advantageous catch.

Hazlitt discovered the truth about Tomkins, and from then on his jealousy and suspicions of Sarah Walker's real character afforded him little rest. For months, during the preparations for the divorce and as he tried to earn a living, he alternated between rage and despair, on the one hand, and the comforting if unrealistic thought that she was really "a good girl" and would accept him at last. The divorce was finalised on 17 July 1822,<ref>Jones, p. 332.</ref> and Hazlitt returned to London to see his beloved—only to find her cold and resistant. They then become involved in angry altercations of jealousy and recrimination. And it was over, though Hazlitt could not for some time persuade himself to believe so. His mind nearly snapped. At his emotional nadir, he contemplated suicide.

It was with some difficulty that he eventually recovered his equilibrium. In order to ascertain Sarah's true character, he persuaded an acquaintance to take lodgings in the Walkers' building and attempt to seduce Sarah. Hazlitt's friend reported that the attempt seemed to be about to succeed, but she prevented him from taking the ultimate liberty. Her behaviour was as it had been with several other male lodgers, not only Hazlitt, who now concluded that he had been dealing with, rather than an "angel", an "impudent whore", an ordinary "lodging house decoy". Eventually, though Hazlitt could not know this, she had a child by Tomkins and moved in with him.<ref>Jones, pp. 336–37; it is not known why they never married.</ref>

By pouring out his tale of woe to anyone he happened to meet (including his friends Peter George Patmore and [[James Sheridan Knowles]]), he was able to find a cathartic outlet for his misery. But catharsis was also provided by his recording the course of his love in a thinly disguised fictional account, published anonymously in May 1823 as ''Liber Amoris; or, The New Pygmalion''. (Enough clues were present so that the identity of the writer did not remain hidden for long.)

Critics have been divided as to the literary merits of ''Liber Amoris'', a deeply personal account of frustrated love that is quite unlike anything else Hazlitt ever wrote. Wardle suggests that it was compelling but marred by sickly sentimentality, and also proposes that Hazlitt might even have been anticipating some of the experiments in chronology made by later novelists.<ref>Wardle, pp. 363–65. Wardle was writing in 1971; twenty-first-century critics continue to be sharply divided. David Armitage has assessed the book disparagingly as "the result of a tormented mind grasping literary motifs in a desperate and increasingly unsuccessful (and self indulgent) attempt to communicate its descent into incoherence...", while Gregory Dart has acclaimed it "the most powerful account of unrequited love in English literature". To James Ley, "It is ... an unsparing account of the psychology of obsession, the way a mind in the grip of an all-consuming passion can distort reality to its own detriment". Armitage, p. 223; Dart 2012, p. 85; Ley p. 38.</ref>

One or two positive reviews appeared, such as the one in the ''Globe'', 7 June 1823: "The ''Liber Amoris'' is unique in the English language; and as, possibly, the first book in its fervour, its vehemency, and its careless exposure of passion and weakness—of sentiments and sensations which the common race of mankind seek most studiously to mystify or conceal—that exhibits a portion of the most distinguishing characteristics of Rousseau, it ought to be generally praised".<ref>Quoted by Jones, p. 338.</ref>

However, such complimentary assessments were the rare exception. Whatever its ultimate merits, ''Liber Amoris'' provided ample ammunition for Hazlitt's detractors,<ref>Ley, p. 38: "The book quickly became notorious, thanks largely to Hazlitt's political enemies, who seized upon the work as evidence of his depraved nature".</ref> and even some of his closest friends were scandalised. For months he did not even have contact with the Lambs. And the strait-laced Robinson found the book "disgusting", "nauseous and revolting", "low and gross and tedious and very offensive", believing that "it ought to exclude the author from all decent society".<ref>Quoted in Wardle, p. 363.</ref> As ever, peace of mind proved elusive for William Hazlitt.