parties under Scottish jurisdiction. Several persons had taken advantage of this doctrine. One Lolley had, however, been sentenced to transportation for bigamy in 1812 after obtaining a divorce from his first wife on Hazlitt's method. The point of law was then argued before all the English judges, and the sentence confirmed (article by Mr. R. Campbell in Journal of Jurisprudence, 1869, xiii. 481, &c.).
Hazlitt, on returning to London, satisfied himself (as it seems) that Miss Walker had been all along deceiving him, and preferred a younger lover. He put together the strange book called ‘Liber Amoris,’ consisting of the conversations above mentioned, with letters to Patmore and J. S. Knowles. The mask of anonymity was transparent to all the persons concerned, especially as he poured out his grievances to any one who would listen (Procter). De Quincey charitably calls the book an ‘explosion of frenzy,’ necessary to ‘empty his overburdened spirit.’ The necessity, created by his morbid egotism, was probably not obvious to Miss Walker, who was soon afterwards married, and about whose conduct he made statements unmanly, even if true. He was sane enough to get 100l. from a publisher for showing his skill in rivalling Rousseau's ‘Confessions.’ The passion was apparently soon forgotten.
He now lodged in Down Street, Piccadilly, and contributed to the ‘Liberal,’ the ‘London Magazine,’ and the ‘New Monthly,’ and published his ‘Characteristics,’ in imitation of Rochefoucauld. In the first half of 1824 he reverted to the intention announced to Mrs. Hazlitt at Edinburgh by marrying a Mrs. Bridgewater. Her maiden name is unknown. She was of Scottish birth, had gone out to Granada, married a Colonel Bridgewater, and upon his death soon afterwards returned to Scotland. She had a small property, stated at 300l. a year. She is said to have been charming; but little is known about her. Upon his marriage Hazlitt carried out a plan, projected a year or two previously, for a tour through France and Italy, visiting picture galleries, and describing his impressions in letters to the ‘Morning Chronicle.’ He sailed on 1 Sept. 1824, travelled to Paris, where he met the first Mrs. Hazlitt, talked to her civilly, and supplied her with money. He crossed the Mont Cenis to Turin, visited Florence, where he saw W. S. Landor, went to Rome, and thence to Venice, returning by Milan and the Simplon to Switzerland, and spending the summer of 1825 at Vevey. Here he met Medwin, who described their conversations in ‘Fraser's Magazine’ for March 1839. He reached England, by way of the Rhine and Holland, on 16 Oct. 1825. He wrote to his wife from England a fortnight after his return to ask when he should fetch her home. She replied that they had parted for ever. Hazlitt's son had been with them, and seems to have made some pointed remarks to his stepmother which precipitated this catastrophe.
Hazlitt after this event lived a solitary life, moving to furnished lodgings in Half Moon Street, Bouverie Street, and Frith Street, Soho. He published two collections of essays containing some of his best work, the ‘Spirit of the Age’ (1825) and the ‘Plain Speaker’ (1826). One of his most remarkable performances was his report of conversations with Northcote, which appeared as ‘Boswell Redivivus’ in ‘Colburn's New Monthly Magazine’ in 1826 and 1827. Patmore says (ii. 337) that Hazlitt was strictly accurate in reporting Northcote's anecdotes, though working in his own reflections. Northcote affected to be furious when some of them gave offence to persons whom he had mentioned. They were, however, continued as before with his perfect acquiescence (see Cunningham, Lives of the Painters, vii. 107–116). Besides other occasional writings, Hazlitt devoted himself to a ‘Life of Napoleon,’ which he began at Winterslow Hut in 1827. His labour caused a breakdown of health. He had cherished an idolatry for his hero, singular in one who boasted of an uncompromising love of political liberty; but he regarded Napoleon as representing antagonism to the doctrine of the divine right of kings. The task was infelicitous. As opposed to the prejudices of most English readers who had sympathised with Scott's life of the emperor (1827), it had little chance of popularity. But Hazlitt was also deviating from his proper career. He had no historical knowledge and made no pretence of research, reading chiefly the authors on his own side of the question. Neither serious nor superficial readers could be satisfied with the book, though some passages have been much admired. The failure of his publishers involved the loss of the 500l. upon which he had counted. His health had declined since his illness of 1827. Harassed by such troubles he broke down under an attack due to his old digestive weakness. Lamb came to him, and Jeffrey, to whom he had appealed for help, according to Talfourd, in a too peremptory letter, at once sent him 50l., which arrived too late to be recognised. He died 18 Sept. 1830 at his lodgings in Frith Street. His last words were ‘Well, I've had a happy life.’
His first wife died in 1842–3; his brother John died at Stockport on 16 May 1837, and his sister Peggy in 1844.
