tions." Shelley's ideal nature modified his religious sentiment. His Hymn to Intellectual Beauty is instinct with the spirit of pure devotion, directed to the highest conception of his nature. Unthinking, indeed, is he who can for a moment believe that such a being could exist without adoration. Dr. Johnson says that Milton grew old without any visible worship. The opinions of Shelley are no more to be regarded as an index to his heart, than the blind bard's quiet musings as a proof that the fire of devotion did not burn within. Shelley's expulsion from college, for questioning the validity of Christianity, or perhaps more justly, asserting its abuses, was the turning point in his destiny. This event, following immediately upon the disappointment of his first attachment, stirred the very depths of his nature-and in all probability, transformed the future man, from a good English squire, to a politician and reformer. Then came his premature marriage, to which impulsive gratitude was the blind motive, the bitter consequences of his error, his divorce and separation from his children, his new and happy connection founded on true affection and intellectual sympathy, his adventurous exile and sudden death. How long, we are tempted to ask in calmly reviewing his life, will it re *The Zucca. quire, in this age of wonders, for the truth to be recognized that opinions are independent of the will, and therefore not, in themselves, legitimate subjects of moral approbation or blame? It has been said that the purposes of men most truly indicate their characters. Where can we find an individual in modern history of more exalted aims than Shelley? While a youth, he was wont to stray from his fellows, and thoughtfully resolve "To be wise And just and free and mild." When suffering poverty in London, after his banishment, his benevolence found exercise in the hospitals, which he daily visited to minister to the victims of pain and disease. The object of constant malice, he never degenerated into a satirist. "Alas, good friend, what profit can you see Of your antipathy If I am the Narcissus, you are free To pine into a sound with hating me."+ Though baffled in his plans, and cut off from frequent enjoyment by physicial anguish, love and hope still triumphed over misanthropy and despair. He was adored by his friends, and beloved by the poor. Even Byron curbed his passions at Shelley's wise rebuke, hailed him as his better angel, and transfused something of his elevated tone into the later emanations of his genius. "Fearless he was and scorning all disguise, What he dared do or think, though men might start, Liberal he was of soul and frank of heart; And yet this is the man who was disgraced and banned for his opinions-deemed by a court of his country unworthy to educate his own children-disowned by his kindred, and forced from his native land! What a reflection to a candid mind, that slander long prevented acquaintance and communion between Shelley and Lamb! How disgusting the thought of those vapid faces of the travelling English, who have done more to disenchant Italy than all her beggars, turned in scorn from the poet, as they encountered him on the Pincian or Lung'Arno! With what indignation do we think of that beautiful head being defaced by a blow! Yet we are told, when Shelley was inquiring for letters at a continental post-office, some ruffian, under color of the common prejudice, upon hearing his name, struck him to the earth. As a poet Shelley was strikingly original. He maintained the identity of poetry and philosophy; and the bent of his genius seems to have been to present philosophical speculations, and "beautiful idealisms of moral excellence," in poetical forms." He was too fond of looking * Prince Athanase. beyond the obvious and tangible to form a merely descriptive poet, and too metaphysical in his taste to be a purely sentimental one. He has neither the intense egotism of Byron, nor the simple fervor of Burns. In general, the scope of his poems is abstract, abounding in wonderful displays of fancy and allegorical invention. Of these qualities, the Revolt of Islam is a striking example. This lack of personality and directness, prevents the poetry of Shelley from impressing the memory like that of Mrs. Hemans or Moore. His images pass before the mind like frost-work at moonlight, strangely beautiful, glittering and rare, but of transient duration, and dream-like interest. Hence, the great body of his poetry can never be popu lar. Of this he seemed perfectly aware. "Prometheus Unbound," according to his own statement, was composed with a view to a very limited audience; and the "Cenci,” which was written according to more popular canons of taste, cost him great labor. The other dramas of Shelley are cast in classical moulds, not only as to form but in tone and spirit; and scattered through them are some of the most splendid gems of expression and metaphor to be found in the whole range of English poetry. Although these classical dramas seem to have been most congenial to the poet's taste, there is abundant evidence of his superior capacity in more popular schools of his art. For touching beauty, his Lines written in Dejection near Naples," is not surpassed by any similar lyric; and his "Sky-Lark" is perfectly buoyant with the very music it commemorates. “Julian and Maddalo" was written ac. cording to Leigh Hunt's theory of poetical diction, and is a graceful specimen of that style. But The Cenci'' is the greatest evidence we have of the poet's power over his "O, weep for Adonais!!-The quick Dreams, 'O gentle child, beautiful as thou wert, Why didst thou leave the trodden paths of men Too soon, and with weak hands though mighty heart, Dare the unpastured dragon in his den, Defenceless as thou wert, oh! where was then Note |