CHAPTER XII.

MR. MACCARTHY'S DISCOVERIES TOUCHING THE OXONIAN SHELLEY.

_A Poetical Essay on the Existing State of Things_--Evidence that the Poem was Published--Reasons for Thinking it may never have been Published--Reasons for Thinking that, if the Poem was Published, it was promptly Suppressed--Did Shelley contribute Prose and Poetry to the _Oxford Herald_?--Spurious Letter to the Editor of the _Statesman_--Shelley's First Letter to Leigh Hunt--His way of Introducing himself to Strangers--Did he at the Same Moment Think Well and Ill of his Father?--Miss Janetta Phillips's Poems--E. & W. Phillips, the Worthing Printers.

Before returning from Field Place to Oxford at the close of the Christmas Vacation (1810-11), readers who, in addition to a perfect view of Shelley's life at the University, wish to have a knowledge of all that has been written about that part of his career, will do well to consider certain matters with which Mr. Denis Florence MacCarthy may be said to have cumbered the highway of the poet's academic story. Considerations of prudence for himself, and of care for the interests of his readers, forbid the present writer to pass over these matters in silence, as though he were not cognizant of their existence. At the same time, he is disinclined to notice them in a chapter, where they would interrupt the narrative of the undergraduate's second term of residence at University College. He therefore decides to deal with them in a separate chapter, that may be lightly 'skimmed' or altogether skipt by the busy peruser of these volumes, whose curiosity respecting the poet's life is unattended by a keen appetite for details of Shelleyan controversy.

* * * * *

I. With magniloquence, that may seem comical to persons deficient in Mr. Forman's ability to venerate every scrap of paper blotted by the poet's pen, Mr. MacCarthy declares himself to 'have discovered the surrounding light that indicates the presence of a star,' without being so fortunate as to have 'detected its nucleus.' This is only Mr. MacCarthy's figurative and beautiful way of saying that, without coming upon a copy of the work, he has come upon evidence that Shelley, towards the close of his second term of residence at Oxford, published _A Poetical Essay on the Existing State of Things_, for the benefit of Mr. Peter Finerty, then undergoing imprisonment in Lincoln Gaol for libel on Lord Castlereagh,--that this poem was a very beautiful poem,--and that it differed from all the poet's earlier and all his later writings, in having a quick and large sale.

Readers, who take Mr. MacCarthy's view and estimate of the evidence, have no doubt that the sale of this remarkable poem, after paying the costs of its production, yielded nearly one hundred pounds to the fund that was raised for Mr. Finerty's sustenance and comfort in captivity. To persons who remember the wretched quality of the Oxonian Shelley's prose and verse, it can scarcely be obvious why a lost poem by his still feeble pen should be likened to a star, and why the shadowy evidence that he wrote the poem should be comparable with the surrounding light of the heavenly body. Let that pass, however; and let it be conceded that evidence of so successful a poem, by the youthful and hitherto unfortunate aspirant to literary fame, would be a matter of some interest, even to persons in no degree touched with Shelleyan madness. What is the evidence that Shelley produced this successful poem, no copy of which has ever come under the notice of living man? The evidence consists of,--

(_a_) This advertisement in the 9th March, 1811, number of the _Oxford Herald_:--

'Literature. Just published, Price Two Shillings, _A Poetical Essay On The Existing State of Things_.

"And Famine At Her Bidding Wasted Wide The Wretched Land. Till In The Public Way, Promiscuous Where The Dead And Dying Lay, Dogs Fed On Human Bones In The Open Light Of Day."

By A Gentleman Of The University Of Oxford. For assisting to Maintain In Prison Mr. Peter Finerty, Imprisoned For A Libel. London: Sold by B. Crosby and Co., And All Other Booksellers. 1811.'

(_b_) Four advertisements of the same poem in London newspapers; two of them being in the _Morning Chronicle_ for 15th and 21st March, 1811, whilst the other two may be found in the _Times_ for 10th and 11th April, 1811.

(_c_) These words by an anonymous writer in the _Dublin Weekly Messenger_ of 7th March, 1812:--

'We have but one more word to add. Mr. Shelley, commiserating the sufferings of our distinguished countryman, Mr. Finerty, whose exertions in the cause of political freedom he much admired, wrote a very beautiful poem, the profits of the sale of which, we understand, from undoubted authority, Mr. Shelley remitted to Mr. Finerty. We have heard they amounted to nearly an hundred pounds. This fact speaks a volume in favour of our new friend.'

(_d_) The fact that Shelley sent from Dublin a copy of the paper containing these words, and particularly called Godwin's attention to the article in which they appeared.

(_e_) The fact that during his imprisonment Mr. Finerty had the sympathy of the _Dublin Weekly Messenger_.

These are all the facts Mr. MacCarthy produces in evidence that Shelley wrote a poem no living man ever saw, no single person of any time is known to have seen. Of course the gentleman, who is so severe on Hogg's inaccuracies, blunders and contradicts himself in marshalling so slender an array of facts. For instance, after stating (p. 100) precisely and correctly that the earliest of the five advertisements of the poem appeared in the _Oxford Herald_ of 9th March, 1811, he avers a few pages later (p. 105) that this same earliest advertisement appeared in the paper of 2nd March, 1811.

How does this curiously inaccurate gentleman reason from his facts? To Mr. MacCarthy it appears indisputable that the poem must have been written and published, as the five advertisements declare it 'Just Published.' But it is no uncommon thing now, it was no rare thing eighty years since, for publishers to announce books as 'just published,' before their actual day of publication. Books have been printed and so announced, and yet at the last moment have been withheld from publication. Moreover, it would be no new thing for a literary adventurer to advertise that a work by his pen would shortly appear, without having any intention or power to fulfil the promise of the announcement. The books of the British Museum Library would be more numerous by several thousands, had authors invariably acted up to their advertisements.

Underscoring the words 'undoubted authority,' Mr. MacCarthy intimates that Shelley himself must have been the 'undoubted authority.' The assumption is reasonable, but it is only an assumption. Could he be proved to have been the sure authority, it would still be noticeable that, though he declared the poem had been published for Mr. Finerty's benefit, some other person may have been the journalist's authority for saying the profits amounted to nearly 100_l._ For, whilst declaring 'from _undoubted authority_,' that Shelley sent the profits to Mr. Finerty, the article-writer is curiously silent as to the quality of his authority for writing, '_We have heard_ they amounted to nearly an hundred pounds.' In fact, his language implies that, whilst having the best authority for the first, he had not the best authority for the second, statement.

Again, arguing from Shelley's veracity, Mr. MacCarthy insists that by sending the article to Godwin without disclaiming any of the grounds on which he is commended in it, Shelley endorsed the whole statement, and pledged his honour to its truth.

'This statement, too, it should be remembered, is authenticated by Shelley himself, for he sends the paper containing it to Godwin, and pointedly refers to the article in which it is given.'

Was Shelley so precisely accurate in all his statements, that we should be bound to believe the words, if he could be shown to have written them himself? To readers who have given due consideration to a certain letter referred to in the last chapter, it must be comical to hear the author of _Shelley's Early Life_ arguing that the words of the _Dublin Weekly Messenger_ must be true, because in sending the paper to Godwin, the poet did not warn him of their inaccuracy. Readers will have stronger reason for smiling at Mr. MacCarthy's simplicity, when they know more about the earlier of Shelley's letters to Godwin,--letters overflowing with the most staggering misrepresentations.

Yet further, it is argued by Mr. MacCarthy that, having the friendliest relations with the _Dublin Weekly Messenger_, Mr. Finerty was doubtless a regular and attentive reader of the paper, must therefore have seen the words relating to the profits of the poem, and would of course have contradicted them had they been untrue. As Mr. Finerty did not contradict the words, his silence must be regarded as tantamount to direct testimony from his pen, that the poem was published for his benefit, and yielded a sum of nearly one hundred pounds to the fund raised for his benefit.

'Nothing,' says Mr. MacCarthy, 'published in the _Weekly Messenger_ could possibly have escaped his notice. It is incredible that he would not have contradicted this statement of the presentation to him of the profits of a poem if it were not true.'

Against this series of assumptions and the argument founded upon them, several considerations may be urged. (1) Because the _Dublin Weekly Messenger_ favoured his cause, it does not follow that a copy of the paper was sent to Mr. Finerty every week during his imprisonment in Lincoln Gaol. (2) There is no evidence that the paper was usually sent to him every week (in times when the rates of postage were heavy), or even that it was sent on any single occasion to him during that term. (3) As he was treated with extraordinary severity during his imprisonment, it is by no means so certain as the author of _Shelley's Early Life_ imagines, that the prisoner was allowed to see newspapers containing expressions of sympathy with and admiration of him. (4) On the contrary, though he may have seen the copies of the _Dublin Weekly Messenger_ that contained no reference to his case, it is highly improbable that during his imprisonment he was allowed to see the copies of the journal which spoke of him eulogistically. (5) It is conceivable that, if he saw the words of the Dublin newspaper during his imprisonment, he knew them to be inaccurate, and yet refrained from contradicting them. He may have read the words in prison without knowing whether they were true or false, as the business of collecting the money for his benefit was in the hands of a committee. He may have known that Shelley published a poem for his advantage, and known also that the publication yielded no profits: in which case he would not have been so ungracious as to contradict the statement of the amount of the profits, and thereby call attention to the literary miscarriage of a well-wisher who, besides subscribing a guinea to the Finerty Fund, had also recommended the fund to public favour in the unsuccessful work. If he saw the words of the Dublin newspaper, and knew them to be untrue, the inaccuracy was no reason why he should call attention to a misstatement that could do him no harm, was on the contrary calculated to stimulate the feeling in his favour, and could not be corrected without risk of giving annoyance to the young gentleman who anyhow had subscribed a guinea to the Finerty Fund.

Whilst the evidence of the publication of a poem is far from conclusive, the evidence is very strong that, if a poem was published, its sale must have fallen far short of the number indicated by the _not_ authoritative words (the statement made on mere hearsay talk) of the anonymous writer of the _Dublin Weekly Messenger_. _If_ the poem was published at all, it appears from the advertisements to have been offered for sale at the price of two shillings a copy. If a poem was published, it was probably not a poem of many thousands, or even many hundreds, of lines. Let us suppose that a poem was published, and the costs of printing, producing, publishing, and advertising the work were 50_l._--a moderate sum at which to put the expenses, if the poem contained from five hundred to a thousand lines. Allowances to the trade being taken into account, there must have been a sale of at least two thousand copies at the rate of two shillings a copy, for the sale to bring in 50_l._ for expenses of publication, and 100_l._ for the Finerty Fund. The sum accruing to that fund from the sale is put by the anonymous writer of the _Dublin Weekly Messenger_ at something less than 100_l._ On the other hand, account must be taken of copies sent to reviewers and copies _given_ by the author to his friends;--copies that, without being paid for, passed into circulation. These copies may be computed as equal to the number by which the actual sale of the work fell short of 2000 copies,--_i.e._ the sale that would have yielded a clear 100_l._ (over the 50_l._ for costs) to the Finerty Fund. What is the evidence that so large a number of copies of the poem cannot have been put in circulation?

'"It is," says Mr. MacCarthy, in the preface to _Shelley's Early Life_, "needless to say that this interesting volume is not to be found in any of our public libraries. To the courteous librarians of the Bodleian at Oxford, and of University College" (_sic_) "at Cambridge, I have specially to return my thanks for the search they had kindly made for it. A printed circular sent by myself to almost every second-hand bookseller in the three kingdoms was equally unsuccessful. To advertisements in the public journals, and special inquiries instituted by Mr. Quaritch, Piccadilly; Mr. Stibbs, Museum Street; Messrs. Longmans, Paternoster Row, and others, no reply has been received."'

Mr. Denis Florence MacCarthy seizes every occasion for inaccuracy, and now and then makes an occasion, in the absence of a decent opportunity, for blundering. What does Mr. MacCarthy mean 'by University College at Cambridge?' Oxford has a college styled University College; there is a college so called in London; but Cambridge has no University College. By the charitable writer of the present page, it is assumed that by 'University College _at_ Cambridge,' Mr. MacCarthy (who is so merciless and malignant to Hogg for his occasional inaccuracies) means The Cambridge University Library. Let it be so assumed by the reader.

It follows, that some years since Mr. Denis Florence MacCarthy sought by printed circular for a copy of this Shelleyan poem (which possibly was never published) in the shop of nearly every second-hand bookseller in Great Britain and Ireland; that he caused the Librarians of the Bodleian Library, and the Cambridge University Library, to search for a copy of the poem in their libraries; that he induced Mr. Quaritch of Piccadilly, Mr. Stibbs of Museum Street, and the Messrs. Longmans of Paternoster Row, 'and others,' to make search by advertisements and special inquiries, for a copy of the poem,--without coming upon a copy after all the trouble.

Yet more:--Hogg never heard of this poem; Peacock never heard of it, so far as the evidences go; no one of the poet's friends or relations appears ever to have heard of it; no review of the poem has come to light; and (more remarkable yet!) no one of the many published lists of subscriptions to the Finerty Fund, to be found in the _Morning Chronicle_, and other papers of the period (examined by Mr. MacCarthy), makes mention of any single contribution amounting to 100_l._,--of _any_ contributions whatever as the result of the sale of the poem.

What a labour of searching for a copy of the poem, and for evidence about the poem, that may never have been written! Surely the searching would have resulted in the discovery of a copy, had 2000 copies passed into circulation, or in the discovery of some stronger evidence of the poem's publication, had the sale of the work yielded any considerable sum of money to the Fund, which amounted in the course of twelve months to something more than 1000_l._

The evidence is not even conclusive that Shelley had a serious intention to produce a poem for Mr. Finerty's advantage. He may have put forth the advertisements to whip up the public interest in the movement for the unfortunate journalist's benefit. Evidence so weak can only be used conjecturally. I am disposed to regard the advertisements as _bonâ-fide_ advertisements, and to think they referred to some poem published by Shelley for the alleged object. The author may also have published the poem with an eye to his own advantage; may have hoped to use the excitement of a political stir as a means of floating into circulation a poem, which, in case it succeeded, the 'Gentleman of the University of Oxford' could claim in his own name. He had been for some time thinking of publishing a satirical poem. 'I am,' he wrote to Hogg from Field Place, on 20th December, 1810, 'composing a _satirical_ poem. I shall print it at Oxford, unless I find, on visiting him, that R. is ripe for printing whatever will sell. In case of that, he is my man.' There is evidence (though of a doubtful quality) that he wrote the first sketches for a poem, which eventually took shape in _Queen Mab_, in the summer of 1810. Much of that poem would answer to the title of _A Poetical Essay on the Existing State of Things_.

Shelley put so many fictions into his earlier letters to Godwin, that the reader, who is not a 'Shelleyan enthusiast,' hesitates to trust any statement of those highly imaginative epistles, that is not supported by another witness. But he may have been writing truth at Keswick on 16th January, 1812, when he wrote of himself as the author of the _Essay on Love_, a little poem. This 'little poem,' if it was ever written, may have been the same poem as the _Political Essay on the Existing State of Things_, if the latter was ever written. Were it announced to-morrow on good authority that a copy had been recovered of the poem by Shelley, for a copy of which Mr. MacCarthy made so vain a search, I should expect to learn that the poem, published for Mr. Finerty's benefit, proved to be poetry that was subsequently worked into _Queen Mab_. If the _Poetical Essay_ (of March and April, 1811) contained some of the more violent and outrageous passages of _Queen Mab_, the same considerations that caused the poet's Oxford bookseller to destroy all the copies of _The Necessity of Atheism_, that were in his hands, would determine him to destroy at the same time all the copies of the _Poetical Essay_ lying in his premises.

II. What evidence does MacCarthy produce that Shelley was a contributor of poetry and of prose articles of literary subjects to the _Oxford Herald_, whilst he was an Oxford undergraduate?

(1) Mr. MacCarthy's sole reason for attributing the _Ode to the Death of Summer_ to Shelley's pen, is that it possesses the 'peculiar Shelleyan flavour by which we can so easily recognise his later poems,' the qualities of feeling and expression, which justify the author of _Shelley's Early Life_ for saying,--

'As Pope said of Chapman's translation of the _Iliad_, that it was "something like what one would imagine Homer himself would have writ before he arrived at years of discretion;" so this little poem may be offered as something like what Shelley would have sung before he attained the full faculty of lyrical expression.'

But whilst there is no positive testimony that the Oxonian Shelley could give his verses the peculiar flavour for which Mr. MacCarthy commends the 'Ode,' which appears in the _Oxford Herald_ of 22nd September, 1810, the poems of _St. Irvyne_, published three months later, may well dispose critical readers to question, whether the author of the novel was capable of producing verses, having any resemblance to the poetry of his later time. It may, of course, be urged that the verses, put into the ridiculous romance, were the nerveless efforts of a considerably earlier period; but it is difficult to believe that, could he have produced the _Ode to the Death of Summer_ in September, 1810, the Oxonian Shelley could a few weeks later have offered the public such feeble effusions as the _St. Irvyne_ verses.

(2) Whilst Shelley's title to be regarded as the author of _The Ode_ rests on the 'Shelleyan flavour' of the poem, which in that respect differs from all the poetry known to have proceeded from his pen before the end of 1810, his claim to be regarded as one of the producers of the 'prose essays on some of the older English poets' (which appeared in the _Oxford Herald_ during his residence at the University) rests on the fact that one of these essays is signed, 'P. S.' 'One of the papers, signed "P. S."' says Mr. MacCarthy, 'appeared during the period of Shelley's residence, and may possibly have been written by him.' It is quite as probable that some Peter Smith, or other person with P. S. for his initials, wrote the verses.

(3) Consisting altogether of the two initial letters, the evidence which disposes Mr. MacCarthy to rate the poet with the literary essayists of the Oxford newspaper, cannot be declared convincingly cogent and conclusive. It is, however, far less weak and shadowy than the evidence that the undergraduate of University College, Oxford, produced the English translations from the Greek _Anthologia_, which appeared in the _Oxford Herald_ of 5th January, and 12th January, 1811, with the signature 'S' attached to each set of verses. After identifying Shelley with the translator by this solitary letter, Mr. MacCarthy next argues that, having been thus detected in translating verses of the Greek _Anthologia_, Shelley may be fairly suspected of being, and indeed assumed to be, the translator of the epigram by Vincent Bourne, that appeared in English dress in the _Oxford Herald_ of 23rd February, 1811 (signed 'Versificator'); and also the translator (signing himself 'Versificator') who produced the English versions of two epigrams from the Greek _Anthologia_, that appeared in the _Oxford Herald_ of 9th March, 1811. To those, who hesitate in declaring Shelley the producer of the two January translations, because his surname began with the letter 'S,' it may well appear considerably less than manifest that Shelley should be regarded as the producer of Versificator's translations, because he had a taste for making verses. After arguing that 'S' was Shelley, because the Shelleys resembled the Smiths in one interesting particular, and that 'Versificator' must have been Shelley, because Shelley had as good a right as any one else to style himself so, this perplexing Mr. MacCarthy (who is of so much account with the Shelleyan experts) tells us in a note, that some one, during Shelley's time at Oxford, sent a translation from Vincent Bourne to the _Oxford Herald_, signed 'S. S.--Edmonton.' On such trifles and trifling, weeks and months were wasted by the Shelleyan expert, who, with all his boastful show of laborious research, never troubled himself to find out, when Shelley and Hogg became members of their University.

III. For reasons, with which there is no need to trouble the reader of the present chapter, Mr. Denis Florence MacCarthy holds a strong opinion that the spurious letter, alleged to have been written by Shelley from University College on 22nd February, 1811, to 'The Editor of the _Statesman_,' may have been a genuine performance, although it appeared for the first time to the public in the notorious _Letters of Percy Bysshe Shelley_ (1852), that passed through Mr. Robert Browning's editorial hands only to provoke the scrutiny, that was followed quickly by their suppression. Maintaining that the letter may have been genuine, Mr. MacCarthy is only a few degrees less confident that the epistle was the genuine performance of the undergraduate who, ten days later, wrote Leigh Hunt the epistle that seems to have been studied by the manufacturer of the forgery.

Opening with a long paragraph, whose style affords conclusive evidence that it was not composed by the Oxonian Shelley, the epistle of the earlier date closes with the following sentences taken verbatim from the letter of later date:--

'The ultimate intention of my aim is to induce a meeting of such enlightened, unprejudiced members of the community, whose independent principles expose them to evils which might thus become alleviated; and to form a methodical society, which should be organized so as to resist the coalition of the enemies of liberty, which at present renders any expression of opinion on matters of policy dangerous to individuals.... Although perfectly unacquainted with you privately, I address you as a common friend to liberty, thinking that, in cases of this urgency and importance, etiquette ought not to stand in the way of usefulness.'

Whilst these two sentences accord in style with the rest of the letter to which they properly belong (the genuine letter addressed to Leigh Hunt on 2nd March, 1811), they are preceded in the spurious epistle of later manufacture and earlier date (22nd February, 1811) with writing of this incongruent style:--

'SIR,--The present age has been distinguished from every former period of English history by the number of those writers who have suffered the penalties of the law for the freedom and spirit with which they descanted on the morals of the age, and chastised the vices or ridiculed the follies of individuals of every rank of life, and among every description of society. In former periods of British civilization, as during the flourishing ages of Greece and Rome, the oratorical censor, and the satirical poet, were regarded as exercising only that just pre-eminence to which superior genius and an intimate knowledge of life and human nature were conceived to entitle them. The _MacFlecknoe_ of Dryden, the _Dunciad_ and the satirical imitations of Pope, remained secure from molestation by the Attorney-General; the literary castigators of a Bolingbroke and a Wharton enjoyed the triumph of truth and justice unawed by _ex-officios_; and Addison could describe a coward and a liar without being called to account for his inuendos by the interference of the judicial servants of the king. But times are altered, and a man may now be sent to prison for a couple of years, and ruined perhaps for life, because he calls a spade a spade, and tells a public individual the very truths that are obvious to the most partial of his friends.'

So fine a judge of 'Shelleyan flavour' as Mr. Denis Florence MacCarthy ought surely to have observed how greatly this piece of writing differs in style and quality from the prose of Shelley's novels, his Oxonian letters to Stockdale and Hogg, his Irish addresses, and all his prose writings of the same period. Instead of discovering the difference, however, our nice _connoisseur_ of 'Shelleyan flavour,' and the historic probabilities, exclaims in a rapturous note to the last sentence of the quotation:--

'This passage proves almost conclusively that the person addressed as "Editor of the _Statesman_" must have been Mr. Finnerty. The public individual of whom he published those obvious truths that were pronounced a libel by Lord Ellenborough was Lord Castlereagh. The former editor of the _Statesman_, Mr. Lovell, was suffering imprisonment for a different offence.'

There is no evidence that Mr. Finerty was, or ever had been, the editor of the _Statesman_. There are no grounds for thinking he ever had been the editor of that paper. Mr. Denis Florence MacCarthy admits he has no reason to think Mr. Finerty ever was editor of the _Statesman_. Yet he insists that this spurious letter (genuine epistle as he thinks), dated 22nd February, 1811, to the Editor of the _Statesman_, must have been addressed to a man (who was _not_ that paper's editor), _because_ it contains a reference to the imprisonment of some person in terms quite as applicable to an imprisoned journalist who _had never been_, as to an imprisoned journalist _who had been or was_ editor of that paper.

Nothing in the letter to the Editor of the _Statesman_ implies that the imprisoned journalist had been in any way connected with the paper, or that the writer of the letter believed the imprisoned journalist to have been connected with the paper. Yet Mr. MacCarthy is at great pains to show how the Oxonian Shelley may have come to imagine that the cruelly entreated Mr. Finerty was editor of the paper, with which he in fact is not known to have had any professional connexion. The libel on Lord Castlereagh, for which Mr. Finerty was sent to prison, having been published in the _Statesman_ as well as the _Morning Chronicle_, it was natural for Shelley (argues Mr. MacCarthy) to assume that Mr. Finerty was editor of the _Statesman_. Shelley was by no means such a fool as the 'Shelleyan enthusiasts' would have us think him. The youngster reasoned wildly sometimes, but he was not likely to think a journalist must be the editor of one paper because he had been sent to prison for libelling a Minister in another paper. Knowing well enough that Mr. Finerty (in whose concerns he took a lively interest) had been committed for eighteen months to Lincoln Gaol on 7th February, 1811, Shelley was not likely to imagine a fortnight later he was the Acting Editor of the London _Statesman_. Knowing right well Mr. Finerty had been sentenced to _eighteen months_, Shelley was not likely so soon after the sentence to imagine the journalist had been sent to prison for _two years_. To read Mr. MacCarthy's perplexing pages is to see that the gentleman was not more successful in confounding his readers than in confounding himself. Yet because he threw a new kind of mud on Shelley's earliest biographer, this superlatively inaccurate and stupefying writer has been cried up as a great Shelleyan authority.

After setting forth the words of the spurious epistle, Mr. MacCarthy remarks in his usual style of laborious inaccuracy:--

'This letter, whatever its claim to authenticity may be, is dated February 22nd, 1811. Six days later--_that is_, on the 2nd of March in the same year--Shelley addressed, for the first time, another newspaper editor then personally unknown to him, but who became a few years later one of his most valued and intimate friends--Leigh Hunt.'

February 22nd, 1811. Six days later--that is, on the 2nd of March in the same year!--What particularity and what curious persistence in blundering! The gentleman, who is so severe on Hogg for an occasional slip, is more than usually fortunate when he is only twenty-five per cent wrong in a calculation of days. Mr. MacCarthy, however, is right in holding there is no reason to doubt the genuineness of the youthful Shelley's first letter to the Editor of the _Examiner_. Written in the Oxonian Shelley's best, but far from strenuous, style, the epistle (of 2nd March, 1811) to Leigh Hunt--the epistle Leigh Hunt never answered--could not have proceeded from any hand but Shelley's hand. Strangely ingenious things have been done in the way of Shelleyan forgeries, but no fabricator of spurious letters and other materials for fictitious biography would have thought of manufacturing the delicious bit of puerile bounce that makes the letter end in this droll fashion:--

'My father is in parliament, and on attaining twenty-one I shall, in all probability, fill his vacant seat. On account of the responsibility to which my residence in this University subjects me, I, of course, dare not publicly avow all I think; but the time will come when I hope that my every endeavour, insufficient as they may be, will be directed to the advancement of liberty.

'Your most obedient servant, 'P. B. SHELLEY.'

From his Eton days to a time considerably subsequent to his expulsion from Oxford, it was Shelley's practice to open correspondence with strangers by telling them how greatly he differed in his worldly circumstances and prospects from ordinary young men. In this strain of boyish boastfulness, he is known to have approached so many people, that it is reasonable to suppose it to have been his usual device for putting himself in the favourable regard of persons, whose acquaintance he sought. To the Messrs. Longman, of Paternoster Row, he wrote from Eton: 'My object in writing it was not pecuniary, as I am independent, being the heir of a gentleman of large fortune in the county of Sussex.' To Stockdale he introduced himself by word of mouth in much the same fashion. In the earliest days of their acquaintance, Hogg heard not a little from Sir Bysshe Shelley's grandson, of matters redounding to the dignity of the Castle Goring Shelleys; the romantic traditions of his house; the arguments with which the Duke of Norfolk urged him to look to politics as his proper field of action. 'My father is in parliament,' he writes on 2nd March, 1811, to the editor of the _Examiner_, whom he has never seen, 'and on attaining twenty-one I shall, in all probability, fill his vacant seat.' Ten months later (10th January, 1812), he is writing to William Godwin, whilst seeking the philosopher's friendship by letter before seeing him,

'I am the son of a man of fortune in Sussex.... It will be necessary, in order to elucidate this part of my history, to inform you, that I am heir by entail to an estate of 6000_l._ per annum. My principles have induced me to regard the law of primogeniture as an evil of primary magnitude.'

In the musical egotisms of his poetry, the ear catches the same note of boastful arrogance and self-complacence. Whilst preaching the gospel of love, and proclaiming his determination to sacrifice himself for the good of others on the first convenient opportunity, Shelley knew how to remind his hearers that he would sacrifice a great deal more than the common sort of philanthropists; and there were moments when, not content with virtue's peculiar and sweetest reward,--an approving conscience, he was more eager to provoke, than avoid, the plaudits of the multitude.

The reader of the epistle to Leigh Hunt may well smile at the youngster's announcement that, in the course of two years, he would probably occupy a seat in the House of Commons, through his father's timely retirement from political life. It is not the wont of even the most affectionate father to be so considerate for his heir-apparent; and though he was a much kindlier and more generous parent than the 'Shelleyan enthusiasts' like to admit, Mr. Timothy Shelley, of Field Place, was by no means a likely man to retreat into private life, in order that his eldest son might become Member of Parliament for New Shoreham in his twenty-second year. Delighting in the status of a member of elective assembly, the self-complacent and rather pompous gentleman plumed himself on standing well with his 'party' and 'Mr. Speaker,' and being so highly respected by 'the house' and 'the country' that he gave peculiar weight and moral influence to the committees to which he was appointed. By no means so destitute of imagination as numerous detractors have declared him, Mr. Timothy Shelley resembled his son in an aptitude for conceiving whatever tended for the moment to put him on good terms with himself. To hear Mr. Timothy Shelley repeat over his second bottle the compliments whispered into his ear by Mr. Speaker, was to infer that, if his words were reported accurately, Mr. Speaker was an habitual and extravagant flatterer, or had some unaccountable partiality for the Member for New Shoreham. To believe all the Member for New Shoreham said of himself, was to believe, that no committee was appointed in the Lower House until he and Ministers had spoken together respecting its constitution, that few nice questions of foreign policy were decided until Ministers had asked him what might, and what might not, be done. The kindly gentleman, who declared he had furnished Archdeacon Paley (or 'Palley,' as the Member for New Shoreham pronounced the name) with all the main arguments for the 'Evidences,' could persuade himself that his smile or frown determined the course of Ministers and Administrations. Whilst the Oxonian Shelley liked to imagine himself in parliament, his father delighted in imagining himself the very soul of parliament. So imaginative a father was not likely to vacate his seat for the advantage of so imaginative a son.

The mere absence of reasonable grounds for the statement would not, however, justify a confident opinion that Shelley was guilty of deliberate untruth when he wrote on 2nd March, 1811, that, on coming of age, he would probably succeed to his father's vacant place in the House of Commons. Enough has been said in previous pages of this work to show that, together with a capacity for saying what he knew to be untrue, the Oxonian Shelley, no less than the Shelley of later time, possessed a fancy so curiously vigorous and fertile of inventions, that it may be held in some degree accountable for some of his numerous misstatements. In their desire to shield him from the obloquy of wilful and habitual untruthfulness, some of the poet's friends have, no doubt, exaggerated this consequence of his imaginative energy. In maintaining that his friend cordially detested falsehood, and in respect of his frequent inaccuracies of statement, was the mere 'creature, the unsuspecting and unresisting victim, of his irresistible imagination,' Hogg not only went beyond his evidences, but traversed and contradicted them in a manner to provoke suspicion of his own honesty. Even where he admits that the inaccuracies were referable, in a large measure, to untruthfulness, Peacock betrays a similar disposition to make the utmost of the singular imaginativeness, which he held no less accountable for the poet's frequent deviations from veracity.

By those who would rate none too highly the testimony of these two notable witnesses to the poet's character, allowance must of course be made for the partiality of friendship. On the other hand, it must be remembered that, whilst affording them opportunities for studying his character closely, their intimacy with so singular and interesting a companion, offered them the strongest inducements to judge him fairly and know him thoroughly. If it must be conceded that Hogg and Peacock would never have thought of referring their friend's imperfect veracity to his excessive imaginativeness, had he been nothing more to them than a slight acquaintance, it must also be conceded that the circumstances of their close and affectionate intercourse with the poet, qualified them to give the true explanation of his most perplexing utterances and most pitiable infirmity. Having regard to the general trustworthiness of the witnesses, and also to the several obvious considerations which may well dispose the reader to receive their evidence with suspicion and incredulity, I cannot question that, however much they overstated their respective opinions out of tenderness for the poet's fame, both Hogg and Peacock had reasonable grounds for believing that a quick and undisciplined fancy was far more, or scarcely less, accountable than moral obliquity for their friend's untruthful assertions. For the moment, therefore (_but only for the moment_), let it be assumed that, whilst penning the lines to Leigh Hunt, the undergraduate of University College really believed he was likely to take his father's seat in parliament in the course of the next two or three years.

The assumption puts the reader face to face with another difficulty. The Oxonian Shelley, who made this remarkable announcement to Leigh Hunt, was the same Oxonian Shelley, who used to declare himself indebted to Dr. Lind's timely intervention for preservation from the madhouse, to which his father meant to consign him. Whilst there is evidence of some sort that one of Shelley's hallucinations haunted him from boyhood to the last month of his existence, there is no evidence of any kind that his most transitory hallucinations perished within a few days of the hour, when he first came under their power. It took him more than a year to get the better of his morbid fancy that Hogg was set on seducing his first wife. It took him several weeks to survive his equally ludicrous and distressing fancy, that he was stricken with leprosy. There is no ground for suspecting he was visited by hallucinations so fleeting that they might be styled 'illusions of the hour.' If, at the time of writing to Leigh Hunt, he really believed he would enter parliament in his twenty-second year, the hallucination must be regarded as holding his mind for a considerable period, concurrently with the hallucination touching his father's determination to confine him for life as a lunatic. If there are grounds for thinking he really hoped to enter parliament so soon through his father's affectionate consideration, the grounds are still stronger for thinking he really apprehended incarceration in a madhouse, through his father's cruelty. To believe his father capable of retiring from parliament for the advantage of a son who had occasioned much trouble and reasonable displeasure, it was necessary for Shelley to think his father a rare example of parental devotion and beneficence. To believe his father capable of locking him up in a madhouse, at the instigation of resentment and notions of domestic policy, it was necessary for Shelley to think his father a monstrous example of parental malice and cruelty.

If he thought his father capable of such self-sacrifice for his boy's happiness, Shelley must have thought his father an admirably good parent. If he thought his father capable of such barbarity to his own offspring, Shelley must have deemed his father a superlatively cruel and wicked parent. To have believed his father capable of the parental self-sacrifice and the parental cruelty, Shelley must in the same moment of time have regarded his father as one of the very best and one of the very worst parents. It is not in the power of human sanity or human madness to think thus differently of the same person at the same moment. If Shelley really believed his father was watching for an opportunity to shut him up in a madhouse, he was fibbing when he wrote to Leigh Hunt, that his father would probably soon retire from parliament in his favour. If Shelley believed what he wrote to Leigh Hunt, he was fibbing when he talked to Hogg and others of his cruel father's malignant purpose to shut him up in a lunatic asylum. Strange creature though he was, it is difficult to believe even of Shelley that, whilst seeing his father's goodness, he could be so malignantly wicked to do his utmost to persuade his friends of his father's inordinate badness. Perhaps it is even more difficult to imagine, strange being though he was, that whilst thinking his father an execrably bad parent, Shelley would be so perverse as to invent the story, which went to prove his father an extraordinarily good one.

To escape from this tangle of difficulties, from this dilemma of _four_ horns, readers are at liberty to assume that the Oxonian Shelley believed no tittle of either of the marvellous stories. Dismissing the assumption that the youngster wrote to Leigh Hunt in good faith and simple honesty, they may take it as proved that, in bragging about the seat he would have in parliament as soon as he should have taken his degree, the undergraduate was fibbing, in order that the newspaper editor should form something more than an adequate notion of his correspondent's importance. They may also take it as proved, that the undergraduate was no more sincere in talking about his wicked father's design to lock him up in a madhouse, than in writing that his father would probably retire from parliament in his favour. The time, doubtless, came when Shelley believed his worst fictions to his father's discredit, even as tellers of untruths usually come in course of time to believe the fabrications which they persist in repeating steadily and earnestly:--even as 'the nobleman, who recently languished in captivity at Portland,' has doubtless succeeded in persuading himself that he is the veritable Sir Roger Tichborne.

But before fancies, born of fierce and violent resentments, acquired the complexion and force of hideous truths to his disordered judgment, it is conceivable--ay, it cannot be doubted--that Shelley passed through states of mental and moral disturbance, which were fruitful of impressions and misconceptions, so curiously composed of fact and fancy, of truth and chimera, that he might be well described as a victim of semi-delusions. Between the period when he was altogether sane and the period when he suffered from steady hallucination, at least on one subject, and transient hallucinations on other subjects, there was a period during which he was neither absolutely free from delusions nor wholly possessed by any delusion respecting his father's character and conduct.

IV. Yet another 'discovery' respecting the Oxonian Shelley, for which the 'Shelleyan enthusiasts' overflowed with gratitude to Mr. Denis Florence MacCarthy. To believe all that is told to his honour in _Shelley's Early Life_ is to believe that Shelley made himself responsible for the costs and charges of publishing the little volume of verse, which gave Miss Janetta Phillips her modest place in literary annals. That Miss Janetta was writing poetry whilst Shelley kept terms at Oxford, that she rose to a high place in his poetical regard in the spring of 1811, and that whilst waging war with bigotry and superstition in academic circles, he was at much pains to get subscribers for her book of poems, are matters of historic certainty. In the April of that year, when Miss Elizabeth Shelley was fast falling from her brother's favour, he wrote to Hogg, 'Elizabeth is, indeed, an unworthy companion of the Muses. I do not rest much on her poetry now. Miss Phillips betrayed twice the genius; greater amiability, if to affect the feelings is a proof of the excess of the latter.' The long list of subscribers to _Poems by Janetta Phillips_. Oxford: Printed by Collingwood and Co., 1811, affords conclusive evidence that, whilst regarding her poetical ability with approval, Shelley bestirred himself in Oxford, London, and Sussex, to further Miss Janetta's literary venture. Subscribing himself for six copies of the work, he induced his sister Elizabeth to put her name down for a copy of the metrical effusions, which 'betrayed twice the genius' of her compositions. Miss Hellen Shelley at the Clapham Boarding School, and her friend Miss Harriett Westbrook, also produced half-crowns from their little purses for the benefit of Miss Janetta Phillips. Other members of Shelley's circle ordered the book at his instance. Mr. Medwin, of Horsham, ordered a copy; Mr. Charles Grove took a copy; Mrs. Grove, of Lincoln's Inn Fields, put her name down for three copies. It was, doubtless, at Shelley's solicitation that his Oxford bookseller consented to subscribe for Miss Janetta's little volume. It is probable that the young lady had other friends besides Shelley in the University, where she found no less than eighty subscribers for her _Poems_. Still, it may be safely assumed, she was considerably indebted to Shelley's influence in the colleges for the sympathy and money of so many gownsmen. That Shelley admired Miss Janetta's poetry, and pushed the fortunes of her book to the utmost of his ability, is certain.

But what proof is there that he generously took upon himself the charges of publication, and thereby incurred a debt that drained his pocket a few months later? What are the facts that to this extent 'exhibit Shelley in the amiable light of being an active encourager of a youthful muse?' Here is Mr. Denis Florence MacCarthy's evidence to the fact. In one of the undated letters, which he wrote in the summer (say July) of 1811, from Radnorshire to Hogg at York, Shelley says--'I have at this moment no money, as Philipps' and the other debt have drained me.' What evidence to the point! In the spring of the year Miss Janetta Phillips published a little book, which was so largely subscribed for that, besides paying the charges of production, it must have put a good many guineas into the author's pocket. Three or four months later Shelley writes from Wales that 'Philipps' and the other debt have drained' him so completely that he is without money. It follows, according to Mr. MacCarthy, that at the time of writing the letter Shelley was suffering from his generosity to Miss Janetta Phillips. The 'Shelleyan enthusiasts,' who mistook Mr. MacCarthy for a prophet because he wrote abusively of Hogg, may be assured that neither of the debts referred to in the epistle had anything to do with Miss Janetta Phillips's book. Printed whilst the young lady's poetry was passing through the press at Oxford, Shelley's tract on _The Necessity of Atheism_--the publication that resulted in his expulsion from University College, Oxford--was printed by E. and W. _Phillips_, of Worthing. I have not thought it worth my while to inquire about Miss Janetta's parentage and history; but I should not be surprised to learn she was the daughter of one of these Worthing printers, and that Shelley's efforts for the success of her book proceeded in some degree from friendliness for the printers, who were just then rendering him secret and confidential service. One thing is certain about Miss Janetta. Though it occasioned him considerable trouble at the moment, the publication of her poems caused him no subsequent discomfort. The debts, referred to in the letter, were the debt to Stockdale for the production of _St. Irvyne_, and the debt to the Messrs. E. and W. Phillips, of Worthing, for printing _The Necessity of Atheism_. Mr. MacCarthy's precious discovery is 'a mare's-nest' for the cynical reader to chuckle over.