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INTRODUCTION--NATURE OF RADICALISM 5

His views on Christianity--not an atheist--agnostic--sources of views on belief, Locke, Spinoza, Drummond--God not a creator-- Pantheism--God, Love, and Beauty identical--immortality of the soul--idealism--necessity--freedom of the will--good and evil, their origin--virtue equivalent to happiness--disbelief in the doctrine of hell.

Wordsworth--the Lyrical Ballads--The Prelude and Excursion-- Coleridge.

Weakness of the Radical, of Shelley--Strength of the Radical, of Shelley.

BIBLIOGRAPHY 139

BIOGRAPHY 143

THE RADICALISM OF SHELLEY AND ITS SOURCES

BY DANIEL J. MCDONALD, PH.D.

INTRODUCTION

The following study of the development of the religious and political views of Shelley is made with the view to help one in forming a true estimate of his work and character.

To many, radicalism is suggestive only of revolution and destruction. In their eyes it is the spouse of disorder and the mother of tyranny. Its devotees are wild-eyed fanatics, and in its train are found social outcasts and the scum of humanity. To others, radicalism presents a totally different aspect. These admit that it has been unfortunate in the quality of many of its adherents, but at the same time they claim that it has proven itself the mainspring of progress in every sphere of human activity. It is depicted as the cause of all the reforms achieved in society. Without it old ideas and principles would always prevail, and stagnation would result. "Conservative politicians," says Leslie Stephen, "owe more than they know to the thinkers who keep alive a faith which renders the world tolerable and puts arbitrary rulers under some moral stress of responsibility."

For a long time the word "radical" was a term of reproach. Sir Fowell Buxton, speaking of the Radicals, says he was persuaded that their object was "the subversion of religion and of the constitution."

Since that time a radical has come to mean any root-and-branch reformer; and radicalism itself may be defined as a tendency to abolish existing institutions or principles. As soon as either of these seems to have outlived its usefulness, radicalism will clamor for its suppression. Discontent, then, is a source of radicalism. This, however, is of a dual nature--discontent with conditions and discontent with institutions or principles. Many conservatives indulge in the former, only radicals in the latter. Again radicalism is not a mere "tearing up by the roots," as the word is commonly interpreted, but is rather, as Philips Brooks writes, "a getting down to the root of things and planting institutions anew on just principles. An enlightened radicalism has regard for righteousness and good government, and will resist all enslavement to old forms and traditions, and will set them aside unless it shall appear that any of these have a radically just and defensible reason for their existence and continuance."

Radicalism thrives where conditions are favorable to a change in ideals. It aims to establish new institutions or to propagate new principles, and this presupposes new ideals. As the habits of a man tend to correspond to his ideals, so too the institutions of a nation conform in a broad way to its ideals. In England during the Middle Ages the institutions of the country were strongly influenced by the religious ideal; later on, when the nation's ideal became national glory, they assumed a political character; and now they reflect the dominant influence which the economic ideal has exerted during the past century. The ideals of a people than are bound to undergo changes, and these are sometimes, though not always, for a nation's good. They are developed in the main by an increase in knowledge and by industrial change. Institutions, however, do not keep pace with this advance in ideals; and as a consequence discontent results and radicalism is born.

Radicals want a change. The extent of this change differentiates them fairly well among themselves. Some would completely sweep away every existing institution. Thus Shelley thought the great victory would be won if he could exterminate kings and priests at a blow.

Let the axe Strike at the root, the poison-tree will fall

A just appreciation of the radicalism of Shelley's poetry is impossible without a knowledge of the function of radicalism, and so it must be considered a little more in detail.

Another factor in the development of radicalism is the inertia of mind and will of a great many people. Most persons are not easily induced to undertake anything that requires some exertion. They prefer to sit back and let others bear the burdens of the day and its heat. A good example of this is the indifference shown by the French Catholics towards the oppressive legislation of their rulers. Fortunately, however, in those countries where free scope is given to the individual, and where liberty of speech is firmly established, there will always be found some who are ever ready to take the initiative in demanding a change. Their radicalism tends to counteract the influence of this sleeping sickness. It holds up to men the ideal, and inflames them with a desire of attaining it.

Again, the emotions do not move as fast as the intellect. They will cling to their objects long after the intellect has counselled otherwise.

A man convinced against his will Is of the same opinion still.

The strength of radicalism lies in the fact that it is poetical and philosophical. Through philosophy it makes its influence felt on a country's leaders, through poetry on the citizens themselves. Andrew Fletcher, of Saltown, has said: "Let me write a country's songs, and I don't care who makes its laws." The poet and the radical are brothers. Both live on abstractions. As soon as they particularize their mission fails; the one ceases to be a poet and the other a radical. In his admirable essay on Shelley, Francis Thompson tells clergymen that "poetry is the preacher to men of the earthly as you of the Heavenly Fairness." According to Saint-Beuve "the function of art is to disengage the elements of beauty, to escape from the mere frightful reality." Substitute radicalism for poetry and art in these quotations and they would still be true. Emerson calls the poets "liberating gods." The ancient bards had for the title of their order: "Those who are free throughout the world." "They are free and they make free." This is exactly what one would write about radicals. Poetry and radicalism then go hand in hand. When radicalism is in the ascendant, poetry will throb with the feverish energy of the people. It will not only be more abundant, but it will show more of real life--the stuff of which literature is made. In conservative times questions concerning life do not agitate men's minds to any great extent. People take things as they find them. Set men a thinking, however, place new ideals before them, and then you get a Shakespeare and a Milton or a galaxy of sparkling gems such as scintillated in the dawn of the nineteenth century.

This action and reaction is reflected in the literature of a nation. No matter what definition of literature we may accept, whether it be Newman's personal use of language, Swinburne's imagination and harmony, or Matthew Arnold's criticism of life, it will always be found that literature is a crystallization of the ideals of the age. This is true both of poetry and of prose. The poet is not an isolated individual. On the contrary, he is peculiarly sensitive to the influences which surround him. He is the revealer and the awakener of these influences. "And the poet listens and he hears; and he looks and he sees; and he bends lower and lower and he weeps; and then growing with a strange growth, drawing from all the darkness about him his own transfiguration, he stands erect, terrible and tender, above all those wretched ones--those of high place as well as those of low, with flaming eyes."

EARLY INFLUENCES

The intensity of one's radicalism depends on the extent to which the institutions of a country cause one suffering and disappointment. Shelley says in Julian and Maddalo:

Most wretched men Are cradled into poetry by wrong, They learn in suffering what they teach in song.

A description of Shelley's radicalism then must take account of all the circumstances that tended to make him dissatisfied with existing institutions. Some of these circumstances may seem trifling, but then it must be remembered that events which appear insignificant sometimes have far-reaching effects. Pascal remarked once that the whole aspect of the world would be different if Cleopatra's nose had been a little shorter. The history of Shelley's life is a series of incidents which tended to make him radical. He never had a chance to be anything else. No sooner would he be brought in contact with conservative influences than something would happen to push him again on the high road of revolt. Even were he temperamentally conservative , the experiences that he underwent were of such a nature as to inevitably lead him into radicalism.

Percy Bysshe Shelley was born at Field Place, in the county of Sussex, on Saturday, the 4th of August, 1792. His family was an ancient and honorable one whose history extends back to the days of the Crusades. His grandfather, Bysshe Shelley, born in America, accumulated a large fortune, married two heiresses, and in 1806 received a baronetcy. In his old age he became whimsical, greedy, and sullen. He was a skeptic hoping for nothing better than annihilation at the end of life. With regard to the poet's father, it is very difficult to form a just estimate. There is no doubt that Shelley enthusiasts decried the father too much in their efforts to canonize the son. It would indeed be strange to find any father at that time who would be capable of giving our poet that guidance and training which his nature demanded. It was a time when might was right, when the rod held a large place in the formation of a boy's character. We must not be too severe then on the father if he was unacquainted with the proper way of dealing with his erratic son. No one who has read Jeafferson's life of the poet will say that Bysshe treated his son too harshly. It was his judgment rather than his heart that was at fault. Medwin remarks that all he brought back from Europe was a smattering of French and a bad picture of an eruption of Vesuvius.

It is to his mother that Shelley owes his beauty and his good nature. He said that she was mild and tolerant, but narrow-minded. Very few references to the home of his boyhood are made in his poetry; and this leads us to believe that neither his father nor his mother had much influence over him.

Oft in these moments such a holy calm Would overspread my soul that bodily eyes Were utterly forgotten, and what I saw Appeared like something in myself--a dream A prospect in the mind.

While yet a boy I sought for ghosts and sped Thro' many a listening chamber, cave and ruin And starlight wood, with fearful steps pursuing, Hopes of high talk with the departed dead.

He was attached to the occult sciences and sometimes watched whole nights for ghosts. Once he described minutely a visit which he said he had paid to some neighbors, and it was discovered soon afterwards that the whole story was a fabrication.

At ten years of age he was sent to Sion House Academy, Isleworth, where he met his cousin and future biographer, Thomas Medwin. The other boys, Medwin tells us, considered him strange and unsocial. It was at this school that Shelley first became acquainted with the romantic novels of Anne Radcliffe and the other novelists of the School of Terror. Here too he became greatly interested in chemistry and astronomy. The idea of a plurality of worlds, through which we "should make the grand tour," enchanted him. Thus we see that he began very early to live in the unreal and the wonderful.

In 1804 he went to Eton, and there he was known as "Mad Shelley" and "Shelley the Atheist." The word "atheist" here does not mean one who denies the existence of God. According to Hogg, it was a term given to those who distinguished themselves for their opposition to the authorities of the school. The title must have fallen into disuse shortly after Shelley's time, as Professor Dowdon failed to find at Eton any trace of this peculiar usage of the word. Here he became interested in physical experiments and carried them on at unseasonable hours. For this he was frequently reprimanded by his superiors, but he proved to be very untractable.

An event occurred in the summer of 1810 which had considerable influence in developing the radicalism of Shelley. He had known and loved his cousin. Harriet Grove, from childhood, and during the vacation of this year asked her to be his wife. Harriet's family, however, became alarmed at his atheistical tendencies and made her give up all communications with him. This angered him very much, and made him declaim against what he considered to be bigotry and intolerance. In a letter to Hogg, December 20, 1810, he writes: "O! I burn with impatience for the moment of the dissolution of intolerance; it has injured me. I swear on the altar of perjured love to revenge myself, on the hated cause of the effect; which even now I can scarcely help deploring.... Adieu! Down with bigotry! Down with intolerance! In this endeavour your most sincere friend will join his every power, his every feeble resource. Adieu!" And in a letter of January 3, 1811: "She is no longer mine! She abhors me as a skeptic as what she was before! Oh, bigotry! When I pardon this last, this severest of thy persecutions, may Heaven blast me!" These ravings show Shelley to have been nervous, hysterical, and supersensitive.

Misfortune still pursued Shelley. Had he formed friendships at Oxford with men of sober intellect, the whole course of his life might have been changed. Unfortunately he soon found a kindred spirit in the cynic Hogg.

In a letter to Hogg, Shelley says: "My father wrote to me, and I am now surrounded, environed by dangers, to which compared the devils who besieged St. Anthony were all inefficient. They attack me for my detestable principles. I am reckoned an outcast, yet I defy them, and laugh at their ineffectual efforts, etc." And in another letter: "My mother imagines me to be on the highroad to Pandemonium; she fancies I want to make a deistical coterie of my little sisters. How laughable!" Shelley imagines the whole world is against him. He feels very keenly his isolation. He says his "soul was bursting." There is a relief though. "I slept with a loaded pistol and some poison last night, but did not die."

SIR:--Permit me, although a stranger, to offer my sincerest congratulations on the occasion of that triumph so highly to be prized by men of liberality; permit me also to submit to your consideration, as one of the most fearless enlighteners of the public mind at the present time, a scheme of mutual safety and mutual indemnification for men of public spirit and principle, which, if carried into effect, would evidently be productive of incalculable advantages.

Your most obedient servant, P. B. SHELLEY.

Shelley and Hogg proceeded to London after their expulsion and obtained rooms in Poland Street. The name reminded Shelley of Kosciusko and Freedom. Timothy Shelley wrote to his son, commanding him to abstain from all communication with Hogg and place himself "under the care and society of such gentlemen as he should appoint" under pain of being deprived of all pecuniary aid. Shelley refused to comply with these proposals. Toward the middle of April Hogg left London to settle down to his legal training in York.

It was about this time that Shelley became acquainted with Harriet Westbrook. She wrote him from London that she was wretchedly unhappy, that she was about to be forced to go to school, and wanted to know if it would be wrong to put an end to her miserable life. Another letter from her soon followed, in which she threw herself upon his protection and proposed to fly with him. Shelley hastened to London, and after the delay of a few weeks eloped with Harriet to Edinburgh, where they were married on August 28, 1811. Shelley agreed to go through the ceremony of matrimony to save his wife from the social disgrace that would otherwise fall upon her.

Writing to Miss Hitchener on March 14, 1812, Harriet says: "I thought if I married anyone it should be a clergyman. Strange idea this, was it not? But being brought up in the Christian religion, 'twas this first gave rise to it. You may conceive with what horror I first heard that Percy was an atheist; at least so it was given out at Clapham. At first I did not comprehend the meaning of the word; therefore when it was explained I was truly petrified.... I little thought of the rectitude of these principles and when I wrote to him I used to try to shake them--making sure he was in the wrong, and that myself was right.... Now, however, this is entirely done away with, and my soul is no longer shackled with such idle fears." This would indicate that he spent more time proselytizing Harriet than in making love to her.

It has been said that Harriet's sister, Elizabeth, managed the whole affair, and that the marriage was brought about through her successful plotting. After spending five weeks in Edinburgh, Shelley, Harriet, and Hogg went to York. They were joined there by Elizabeth, who henceforth ruled over Shelley's household with a stern hand. She is partly responsible for the estrangement of Shelley and his wife.

During all this time Shelley was in need of money, and shortly after their arrival at York went south to induce his father to provide them with the means of living. While he was absent Hogg tried to seduce Harriet. Shelley sought an explanation from Hogg, and pardoned him "fully and freely." Shelley's account of the affair in a letter to Miss Hitchener savors much of Godwinism. "I desired to know fully the account of this affair. I heard it from him and I believe he was sincere. All I can recollect of that terrible day was that I pardoned him--fully, freely pardoned him; that I would still be a friend to him and hoped soon to convince him how lovely virtue was; that his crime, not himself, was the object of my detestation; that I value a human being not for what it has been but for what it is; that I hoped the time would come when he would regard this horrible error with as much disgust as I did."

Early in November, Shelley, his wife, and Eliza left York suddenly for Keswick. Shelley's father and grandfather feared that the poet would parcel out the family estate to soulmates, and so they proposed to allow him ?2,000 a year if he would consent to entail the property on his eldest son, and in default of issue, on his brother. The proposition was indignantly rejected. He considered that kinship bore that relation to reason which a band of straw does to fire. "I am led to love a being not because it stands in the physical relation of blood to me but because I discern an intellectual relationship."

Early in 1812 Shelley started a correspondence with William Godwin, to whom he was then a stranger. In his first letter he writes: "The name of Godwin has been used to excite in me feelings of reverence and admiration. I have been accustomed to consider him a luminary too dazzling for the darkness which surrounds him. From the earliest period of my knowledge of his principles I have ardently desired to share, on the footing of intimacy, that intellect which I have delighted to contemplate in its emanations."

Godwin's influence with the revolutionists of this time was great. Coleridge and Southey were his ardent disciples for a time. "Throw aside your books of chemistry," said Wordsworth to a student, "and read Godwin on necessity." This philosopher seemed to provide them with a simple, comprehensive code of morality, which gave unlimited freedom to the reason, and justice as complete as possible to the individual.

In February, 1812, the Shelleys went to Dublin to help on the cause of moral and intellectual reform. He published there an "Address to the Irish People" which he had written during his stay at Keswick. Shelley's mission was moral and educational rather than political. He advocated Catholic Emancipation and the Repeal of the Union; but he thought that he should first of all strive to dispel bigotry and intolerance--"to awaken a noble nation from the lethargy of despair." What Irishmen needed most of all were knowledge, sobriety, peace, benevolence--in a word, virtue and wisdom. "When you have these things," he said, "you may defy the tyrant." It is not surprising that his mission turned out to be a fiasco. Godwin wrote Shelley several letters in which he tried to convince him that his pamphlets and Association would stir up strife and rebellion. "Shelley," he writes, "you are preparing a scene of blood." The poet accordingly withdrew his pamphlets from circulation and quitted Ireland.

Shelley then crossed over to Wales, and after a short residence at Nangwillt settled at Lynmouth. Elizabeth Hitchener, "the sister of his soul," joined them there. The poet first met her at Cuckfield while visiting his uncle, Captain Pilfold. She was a schoolmistress, professing very liberal opinions and possessing "a tongue of energy and an eye of fire." Everybody that Shelley admired seemed to him perfect, while those whom he disliked were fiends. Their correspondence, which extends over a period of more than a year, gives us a good picture of the workings of Shelley's mind during this time. They all moved to London in November. It was not to be expected that a combination of even such disinterested, enlightened superior mortals as these could last long. Elizabeth's influence over Shelley soon began to wane. His dislike for her was equalled only by his former extravagant praise. She was no longer his angel, but was now known as the "Brown Demon." "She is," he writes, "an artful, superficial, ugly, hermaphroditical beast of a woman, and my astonishment at my fatuity, inconsistency, and bad taste was never so great as after living four months with her as an inmate. What would hell be were such a woman in heaven?" Miss Hitchener took her leave of the Shelleys and again became a schoolmistress.

Shelley and his family spent some time in Wales and Dublin and then returned again to London in April, 1813.

The House of Commons was not responsible to anybody; and its members showed very little consideration for their constituents. Persons who were not acceptable to the ruling party were often fined and imprisoned without due process of law. It is little wonder then that Godwin, Shelley, and others declaimed against all forms of government. They were acquainted only with the Parliament of the Georges and the oligarchy of the Stuarts, and the one was as bad as the other.

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