n the case of most great writers our interest in them as persons is derivedfrom out interest in them as writers; we are not very curious about themexcept for reasons that have something to do with their art. With Shelley it isdifferent. During his life he aroused fears and hatreds, loves and adorations,that were quite irrelevant to literature; and even now, when he has becomea classic, he still causes excitement as a man. His lovers are as vehement asever. For them he is the "banner of freedom," which,"Torn but flying, Streams like a thunder-cloud against the wind."He has suffered that worst indignity of canonisation as a being saintly andsuperhuman, not subject to the morality of ordinary mortals. He has beenbedaubed with pathos. Nevertheless it is possible still to recognise in himone of the most engaging personalities that ever lived. What is the secretof this charm? He had many characteristics that belong to the most tire-some natures; he even had the qualities of the man as to whom one wonderswhether partial insanity may not be his best excuse-inconstancy expressing3 SYDNEY WATERLOWitself in hysterical revulsions of feeling, complete lack of balance, pronenessto act recklessly to the hurt of others. Yet he was loved and respected by con-temporaries of tastes very different from his own, who were good judges andintolerant of bores-by Byron, who was apt to care little for any one, least ofall for poets, except himself; by Peacock, who poured laughter on all enthu-siasms; and by Hogg, who, though slightly eccentric, was a Tory eccentric.The fact is that, with all his defects, he had two qualities which, combined,are so attractive that there is scarcely anything they will not redeem-perfectsincerity without a thought of self, and vivid emotional force. All his faultsas well as his virtues were, moreover, derived from a certain strong feeling,coloured in a peculiar way which will be explained in what follows-a sort ofardour of universal benevolence. One of his letters ends with these words:"Affectionate love to and from all. This ought to be not only the vale of a let-ter, but a superscription over the gate of life"-words which, expressing notmerely Shelley's opinion of what ought to be, but what he actually felt, revealthe ultimate reason why he is still loved, and the reason, too, why he has sooften been idealised. For this universal benevolence is a thing which appealsto men almost with the force of divinity, still carrying, even when mutilatedand obscured by frailties, some suggestion of St. Francis or of Christ.The object of these pages is not to idealise either his life, his character, orhis works. The three are inseparably connected, and to understand one wemust understand all. The reason is that Shelley is one of the most subjectiveof writers. It would be hard to name a poet who has kept his art more freefrom all taint of representation of the real, making it nor an instrument forcreating something life-like, but a more and more intimate echo or emana-tion of his own spirit. In studying his writings we shall see how they flow Read more
