Chapter II (7)

The horrible and wide-wasting enormities which gleam like comets through the darkness of gothic and superstitious ages, are regarded by the moralist as no more than the necessary effects of known causes; but, when an enlightened age and nation signalizes itself by a deed, becoming none but barbarians and fanatics, Philosophy itself is even induced to doubt whether human nature will ever emerge from the pettishness and imbecility of its childhood. The system of persecution at whose new birth, you, my Lord, are one of the presiding midwives, is not more impotent and wicked than inconsistent. The press is loaded with what are called (ironically, I should conceive) _proofs_ of the Christian Religion: these books are replete with invective and calumny against Infidels, they presuppose that he who rejects Christianity must be utterly divested of reason and feeling. They advance the most unsupported assertions, and take as first principles the most revolting dogmas. The inferences drawn from these assumed premises are imposingly logical and correct; but if a foundation is weak, no architect is needed to foretell the instability of the superstructure.--If the truth of Christianity is not disputable, for what purpose are these books written? If they are sufficient to prove it, what further need of controversy? _If God has spoken, why is not the universe convinced?_ If the Christian Religion needs deeper learning, more painful investigation, to establish its genuineness, wherefore attempt to accomplish that by force, which the human mind can alone effect with satisfaction to itself? If, lastly, its truth _cannot_ be demonstrated, wherefore impotently attempt to snatch from God the government of his creation, and impiously assert that the Spirit of Benevolence has left that knowledge most essential to the well being of man, the only one which, since its promulgation, has been the subject of unceasing cavil, the cause of irreconcileable hatred?--Either the Christian Religion is true, or it is not. If true, it comes from God, and its authenticity can admit of doubt and dispute no further than its Omnipotent Author is willing to allow;--if true, it admits of rational proof, and is capable of being placed equally beyond controversy, as the principles which have been established concerning matter and mind, by Locke and Newton; and in proportion to the usefulness of the fact in dispute, so must it be supposed that a benevolent being is anxious to procure the diffusion of its knowledge on the earth.--If false, surely no enlightened legislature would punish the reasoner, who opposes a system so much the more fatal and pernicious as it is extensively admitted; so much the more productive of absurd and ruinous consequences, as it is entwined by education, with the prejudices and affections of the human heart, in the shape of a popular belief.

Let us suppose that some half-witted philosopher should assert that the earth was the centre of the universe, or that ideas could enter the human mind independently of sensation or reflection. This man would assert what is demonstrably incorrect;--he would promulgate a false opinion. Yet, would he therefore deserve pillory and imprisonment? By no means; probably few would discharge more correctly the duties of a citizen and a man. I admit that the case above stated is not precisely in point. The thinking part of the community has not received as indisputable the truth of Christianity, as they have that of the Newtonian system. A very large portion of society, and that powerfully and extensively connected, derives its sole emolument from the belief of Christianity, as a popular faith.

To torture and imprison the asserter of a dogma, however ridiculous and false, is highly barbarous and impolitic:--How, then, does not the cruelty of persecution become aggravated when it is directed against the opposer of an opinion _yet under dispute_, and which men of unrivalled acquirements, penetrating genius, and stainless virtue, have spent, and at last sacrificed, their lives in combating.

The time is rapidly approaching, I hope, that you, my Lord, may live to behold its arrival, when the Mahometan, the Jew, the Christian, the Deist, and the Atheist, will live together in one community, equally sharing the benefits which arise from its association, and united in the bonds of charity and brotherly love.--My Lord, you have condemned an innocent man--no crime was imputed to him--and you sentenced him to torture and imprisonment. I have not addressed this letter to you with the hopes of convincing you that you have acted wrong. The most unprincipled and barbarous of men are not unprepared with sophisms, to prove that they would have acted in no other manner, and to show that vice is virtue. But I raise my solitary voice, to express my disapprobation, so far as it goes, of the cruel and unjust sentence you passed upon Mr. Eaton; to assert, so far as I am capable of influencing, those rights of humanity, which you have wantonly and unlawfully infringed.

My Lord,
Yours, &c.

FOOTNOTES:

[41] See the Attorney General’s speech.

[42] By Mr. Fox’s bill (1791) Juries are, in cases of libel, judges both of the law and the fact.

[43] Shakespeare.

[44] See the Attorney General’s Speech.

[Decoration]

PRINCE ALEXY HAIMATOFF.[45]

[_Memoirs of Prince Alexy Haimatoff._ Translated from the
original Latin MSS. under the immediate inspection of
the Prince. By John Brown, Esq. Pp. 236, 12mo. Hookham,
1814.][46]

Is the suffrage of mankind the legitimate criterion of intellectual energy? Are complaints of the aspirants to literary fame to be considered as the honourable disappointment of neglected genius, or the sickly impatience of a dreamer miserably self deceived? the most illustrious ornaments of the annals of the human race have been stigmatised by the contempt and abhorrence of entire communities of man; but this injustice arose out of some temporary superstition, some partial interest, some national doctrine: a glorious redemption awaited their remembrance. There is indeed, nothing so remarkable in the contempt of the ignorant for the enlightened: the vulgar pride of folly delights to triumph upon mind. This is an intelligible process: the infamy or ingloriousness that can be thus explained detracts nothing from the beauty of virtue or the sublimity of genius. But what does utter obscurity express? If the public do not advert even in censure to a performance, has that performance already received its condemnation?

The result of this controversy is important to the ingenuous critic. His labours are indeed miserably worthless if their objects may invariably be attained before their application. He should know the limits of his prerogative. He should not be ignorant, whether it is his duty to promulgate the decisions of others, or to cultivate his taste and judgment, that he may be enabled to render a reason for his own.

Circumstances the least connected with intellectual nature have contributed, for a certain period, to retain in obscurity the most memorable specimens of human genius. The author refrains perhaps from introducing his production to the world with all the pomp of empirical bibliopolism. A sudden tide in the affairs of men may make the neglect or contradiction of some insignificant doctrine a badge of obscurity and discredit: those even who are exempt from the action of these absurd predilections are necessarily in an indirect manner affected by their influence. It is perhaps the product of an imagination daring and undisciplined: the majority of readers ignorant and disdaining toleration refuse to pardon a neglect of common rules; their canons of criticism are carelessly infringed, it is less religious than a charity sermon, less methodical and cold than a French tragedy, where all the unities are preserved: no excellencies, where prudish cant and dull regularity are absent, can preserve it from the contempt and abhorrence of the multitude. It is evidently not difficult to imagine an instance in which the most elevated genius shall be recompensed with neglect. Mediocrity alone seems unvaryingly to escape rebuke and obloquy, it accommodates its attempts to the spirit of the age which has produced it, and adopts with mimic effrontery the cant of the day and hour for which alone it lives.

We think that “the Memoirs of Prince Alexy Haimatoff” deserves to be regarded as an example of the fact by the frequency of which criticism is vindicated from the imputation of futility and impertinence. We do not hesitate to consider this fiction as the product of a bold and original mind. We hardly remember ever to have seen surpassed the subtle delicacy of imagination, by which the manifest distinctions of character and form are seized and pictured in colours that almost make nature more beautiful than herself. The vulgar observe no resemblances or discrepancies, but such as are gross and glaring. The science of mind to which history, poetry, biography serve as the materials, consists in the discernment of shades and distinctions where the unenlightened discover nothing but a shapeless and unmeaning mass. The faculty for this discernment distinguishes genius from dulness. There are passages in the production before us which afford instances of just and rapid intuition belonging only to intelligences that possess this faculty in no ordinary degree. As a composition the book is far from faultless. Its abruptness and angularities do not appear to have received the slightest polish or correction. The author has written with fervour, but has disdained to revise at leisure. These errors are the errors of youth and genius and the fervid impatience of sensibilities impetuously disburthening their fulness. The author is proudly negligent of connecting the incidents of his tale. It appears more like the recorded day dream of a poet, not unvisited by the sublimest and most lovely visions, than the tissue of a romance skilfully interwoven for the purpose of maintaining the interest of the reader, and conducting his sympathies by dramatic gradations to the denoûment. It is, what it professes to be, a memoir, not a novel. Yet its claims to the former appellation are established, only by the impatience and inexperience of the author, who, possessing in an eminent degree, the higher qualifications of a novelist, we had almost said a poet, has neglected the number by which that success would probably have been secured, which, in this instance, merits of a far nobler stamp have unfortunately failed to acquire. Prince Alexy is by no means an unnatural, although no common character. We think we can discern his counterpart in Alfieri’s delineation of himself. The same propensities, the same ardent devotion to his purposes, the same chivalric and unproductive attachment to unbounded liberty, characterises both. We are inclined to doubt whether the author has not attributed to his hero the doctrines of universal philanthropy in a spirit of profound and almost unsearchable irony: at least he appears biassed by no peculiar principles, and it were perhaps an insoluble inquiry whether any, and if any, what moral truth he designed to illustrate by his tale. Bruhle, the tutor of Alexy, is a character delineated with consummate skill; the power of intelligence and virtue over external deficiencies is forcibly exemplified. The calmness, patience and magnanimity of this singular man, are truly rare and admirable: his disinterestedness, his equanimity, his irresistible gentleness, form a finished and delightful portrait. But we cannot regard his commendation to his pupil to indulge in promiscuous concubinage without horror and detestation. The author appears to deem the loveless intercourse of brutal appetite a venial offence against delicacy and virtue! he asserts that a transient connexion with a cultivated female may contribute to form the heart without essentially vitiating the sensibilities. It is our duty to protest against so pernicious and disgusting an opinion. No man can rise pure from the poisonous embraces of a prostitute, or sinless from the desolated hopes of a confiding heart. Whatever may be the claims of chastity, whatever the advantages of simple and pure affections, these ties, these benefits, are of equal obligation to either sex. Domestic relations depend for their integrity upon a complete reciprocity of duties. But the author himself has in the adventure of the Sultana, Debesh-Sheptuti, afforded a most impressive and tremendous allegory of the cold-blooded and malignant selfishness of sensuality.

We are incapacitated by the unconnected and vague narrative from forming an analysis of the incidents: they would consist indeed, simply of a catalogue of events, and which, divested of the aërial tinge of genius, might appear trivial and common. We shall content ourselves, therefore, with selecting some passages calculated to exemplify the peculiar powers of the author. The following description of the simple and interesting Rosalie is in the highest style of delineation:--

“Her hair was unusually black, she truly had raven locks,
the same glossiness, the same varying shade, the same
mixture of purple and sable for which the plumage of the
raven is remarkable, were found in the long elastic tresses
depending from her head and covering her shoulders. Her
complexion was dark and clear: the colours which composed
the brown that dyed her smooth skin, were so well mixed,
that not one blot, not one varied tinge, injured its
brightness, and when the blush of animation or of modesty
flushed her cheek, the tint was so rare, that could a
painter have dipped his pencil in it, that single shade
would have rendered him immortal. The bone above her eye
was sharp, and beautifully curved; much as I have admired
the wonderful properties of curves, I am convinced that
their most stupendous properties collected would fall far
short of that magic line. The eyebrow was pencilled with
extreme nicety; in the centre it consisted of the deepest
shade of black, at the edges it was hardly perceptible,
and no man could have been hardy enough to have attempted
to define the precise spot at which it ceased: in short
the velvet drapery of the eyebrow was only to be rivalled
by the purple of the long black eyelashes that terminated
the ample curtain. Rosalie’s eyes were large and full;
they appeared at a distance uniformly dark, but upon close
inspection the innumerable strokes of various hues of
infinite fineness and endless variety, drawn in concentric
circles behind the pellucid crystal, filled the mind with
wonder and admiration, and could only be the work of
infinite power directed by infinite wisdom.”

Alexy’s union with Aür-Ahebeh the Circassian slave is marked by circumstances of deep pathos, and the sweetest tenderness of sentiment. The description of his misery and madness at her death deserves to be remarked as affording evidence of an imagination vast, profound and full of energy.

“Alexy, who gained the friendship, perhaps the love of the
native Rosalie: the handsome Haimatoff, the philosophic
Haimatoff, the haughty Haimatoff, Haimatoff the gay, the
witty, the accomplished, the bold hunter, the friend of
liberty, the chivalric lover of all that is feminine, the
hero, the enthusiast: see him now, that is he, mark him! he
appears in the shades of evening, he stalks as a spectre,
he has just risen from the damps of the charnel-house; see,
the dews still hang on his forehead. He will vanish at
cock-crowing, he never heard the song of the lark, nor the
busy hum of men; the sun’s rays never warmed him, the pale
moonbeam alone shows his unearthly figure, which is fanned
by the wing of the owl, which scarce obstructs the slow
flight of the droning beetle, or of the drowsy bat. Mark
him! he stops, his lean arms are crossed on his bosom; he
is bowed to the earth, his sunken eye gazes from its deep
cavity on vacuity, as the toad skulking in the corner of a
sepulchre, peeps with malignity through the circumambient
gloom. His cheek is hollow; the glowing tints of his
complexion, which once resembled the autumnal sunbeam on
the autumnal beech, are gone, the cadaverous yellow, the
livid hue, have usurped their place, the sable honours of
his head have perished, they once waved in the wind like
the jetty pinions of the raven, the skull is only covered
by the shrivelled skin, which the rook views wistfully, and
calls to her young ones. His gaunt bones start from his
wrinkled garments, his voice is deep, hollow, sepulchral;
it is the voice which wakes the dead, he has long held
converse with the departed. He attempts to walk he knows
not whither, his legs totter under him, he falls, the boys
hoot him, the dogs bark at him, he hears them not, he sees
them not.--Rest there, Alexy, it beseemeth thee, thy bed is
the grave, thy bride is the worm, yet once thou stoodest
erect, thy cheek was flushed with joyful ardour, thy eye
blazing told what thy head conceived, what thy heart felt,
thy limbs were vigour and activity, thy bosom expanded with
pride, ambition, and desire, every nerve thrilled to feel,
every muscle swelled to execute.

“Haimatoff, the blight has tainted thee, thou ample roomy
web of life, whereon were traced the gaudy characters,
the gay embroidery of pleasure, how has the moth battened
on thee; Haimatoff, how has the devouring flame scorched
the plains, once yellow with the harvest! the simoon, the
parching breath of the desert, has swept over the laughing
plains, the carpet of verdure rolled away at its approach,
and has bared amid desolation. Thou stricken deer, thy
leather coat, thy dappled hide hangs loose upon thee, it
was a deadly arrow, how has it wasted thee, thou scathed
oak, how has the red lightning drank thy sap: Haimatoff,
Haimatoff, eat thy soul with vexation. Let the immeasurable
ocean roll between thee and pride: you must not dwell
together,” p. 129

The episode of Viola is affecting, natural, and beautiful. We do not ever remember to have seen the unforgiving fastidiousness of family honour more awfully illustrated. After the death of her lover, Viola still expects that he will esteem, still cherishes the delusion that he is not lost to her for ever.

“She used frequently to go to the window to look for him,
or walk in the Park to meet him, but without the least
impatience, at his delay. She learnt a new tune, or a new
song to amuse him, she stood behind the door to startle him
as he entered, or disguised herself to surprise him.”

The character of Mary, deserves, we think, to be considered as the only complete failure in the book. Every other female whom the author has attempted to describe is designated by an individuality peculiarly marked and true. They constitute finished portraits of whatever is eminently simple, graceful, gentle, or disgustingly atrocious and vile. Mary alone is the miserable parasite of fashion, the tame slave of drivelling and drunken folly, the cold-hearted coquette, the lying and meretricious prude. The means employed to gain this worthless prize corresponds exactly with its worthlessness. Sir Fulke Hildebrand is a strenuous Tory, Alexy, on his arrival in England professes himself inclined to the principles of the Whig party, finding that the Baronet had sworn that his daughter should never marry a Whig, he sacrifices his principles and with inconceivable effrontery thus palliates his apostasy and falsehood.

“The prejudices of the Baronet were strong in proportion
as they were irrational. I resolved rather to humour
than to thwart them. I contrived to be invited to dine
in company with him; I always proposed the health of the
minister, I introduced politics and defended the Tory party
in long speeches, I attended clubs and public dinners
of that interest. I do not know whether this conduct
was justifiable; it may certainly be excused when the
circumstances of my case are duly considered. I would tear
myself in pieces if I suspected that I could be guilty
of the slightest falsehood or prevarication; (see Lord
Chesterfield’s Letters for the courtier-like distinction
between simulation and dissimulation,) but there was
nothing of that sort here. I was of no party, consequently,
I could not be accused of deserting any one. I did not
defend the injustice of any body of men, I did not detract
from the merits of any virtuous character. I praised
what was laudable in the Tory party, and blamed what was
reprehensible in the Whigs: I was silent with regard to
whatever was culpable in the former or praiseworthy in
the latter. The stratagem was innocent which injured no
one, and which promoted the happiness of two individuals,
especially of the most amiable woman the world ever knew.”

An instance of more deplorable perversity of the human understanding we do not recollect ever to have witnessed. It almost persuades us to believe that scepticism or indifference concerning certain sacred truths may occasionally produce a subtlety of sophism, by which the conscience of the criminal may be bribed to overlook his crime.

Towards the conclusion of this strange and powerful performance it must be confessed that _aliquando bonus dormitat Homerus_. The adventure of the Eleutheri,[47] although the sketch of a profounder project, is introduced and concluded with unintelligible abruptness. Bruhle dies, purposely as it should seem that his pupil may renounce the romantic sublimity of his nature, and that his inauspicious union and prostituted character might be exempt from the censure of violated friendship. Numerous indications of profound and vigorous thought are scattered over even the most negligently compacted portions of the narrative. It is an unweeded garden where nightshade is interwoven with sweet jessamine, and the most delicate spices of the east peep over struggling stalks of rank and poisonous hemlock.

In the delineation of the more evanescent feelings and uncommon instances of strong and delicate passion we conceive the author to have exhibited new and unparalleled powers. He has noticed some peculiarities of female character with a delicacy and truth singularly exquisite. We think that the interesting subject of sexual relations requires for its successful development the application of a mind thus organised and endowed. Yet even here how great the deficiencies; this mind must be pure from the fashionable superstitions of gallantry, must be exempt from the sordid feelings which with blind idolatry worship the image and blaspheme the deity, reverence the type, and degrade the reality of which it is an emblem.

We do not hesitate to assert that the author of this volume is a man of ability. His great though indisciplinable energies and fervid rapidity of conception embody scenes and situations, and passions affording inexhaustible food for wonder and delight. The interest is deep and irresistible. A moral enchanter seems to have conjured up the shapes of all that is beautiful and strange to suspend the faculties in fascination and astonishment.

FOOTNOTES:

[45] From _The Critical Review_, December 1814, vol. vi. pp. 566-574.

[46] This pseudonymous romance, as wild in its conception and execution as Shelley’s own romances of _Zastrozzi_ and _St. Irvyne_, was the work of Shelley’s college-friend and biographer, Thomas Jefferson Hogg. To Professor Dowden of Dublin, Shelley’s latest biographer, is due the credit of disinterring and drawing public attention to Shelley’s curious critical notice of it.--Ed.

[47] From Edinburgh, Nov. 26, 1813. Shelley had written to Hogg:--“Your novel is now printed. Write more like this. Delight us again with a character so natural and energetic as Alexy: but do not persevere in writing after you grow weary of your toil. _Aliquando bonus dormitat Homerus_; and the swans and the Eleutherarchs are proofs that you were a little sleepy.” (See Hogg’s Life of Shelley, vol. ii. p. 481.)--Ed.

BIBLIOGRAPHY ARRANGED IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER OF THE PUBLISHED WRITINGS IN VERSE AND PROSE OF PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY.

THE BIBLIOGRAPHY OF SHELLEY.

1810.

Zastrozzi. A Romance. By P. B. S. London: Printed for G. Wilkie and J. Robinson, 57 Paternoster Row. 1810. 12mo, pp. 252.

----That their God
May prove their foe, and with repenting hand
Abolish his own works--This would surpass
Common revenge.--_Paradise Lost._

Posthumous Fragments of Margaret Nicholson. Being Poems found amongst the Papers of that noted Female, who attempted the Life of the King in 1786. Edited by John Fitzvictor. Oxford: Printed and sold by J. Munday. 1810. 4to, pp. 29.

1811.

St. Irvyne; or, The Rosicrucian. A Romance. By a Gentleman of the University of Oxford. London: Printed for J. J. Stockdale, 41 Pall Mall. 1811. 12mo, pp. 236.

A Poetical Essay on the Existing State of Things. By a Gentleman of the University of Oxford. For assisting to maintain in prison Mr. Peter Finnerty, imprisoned for a libel. London: Sold by B. Crosby & Co., and all other Booksellers. 1811.

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.
--_Curse of Kehama._

The Necessity of Atheism. Worthing: Printed by E. & W. Phillips. Sold in London and Oxford. [1811.] 8vo, pp. 13.

Quod clarâ et perspicuâ demonstratione careat
pro vero habere mens omnino nequis humana.
--_Bacon de Augment. Scient._

Original Poetry. By Victor and Cazire. London: J. J. Stockdale, 41 Pall Mall. 1811. Royal 8vo, pp. 64.

1812.

A Letter to Lord Ellenborough. Occasioned by the Sentence which he passed on Mr. D. I. Eaton, as Publisher of the Third Part of Paine’s Age of Reason. [1812.] Small 8vo, pp. 23.]

Deorum offensa, Diis curæ.

--It is contrary to the mild spirit of the Christian
Religion, for no sanction can be found under that
dispensation which will warrant a Government to impose
disabilities and penalties upon any man, on account of his
religious opinions. [_Hear, Hear._]--_Marquis Wellesley’s
Speech. Globe, July 2._

An Address to the Irish People. By Percy Bysshe Shelley. Dublin. 1812. Price 5d. 8vo, pp. 22.

Advertisement.--The lowest possible price is set on this
publication, because it is the intention of the author
to awaken in the minds of the Irish poor, a knowledge of
their real state, summarily pointing out the evils of that
state, and suggesting rational means of remedy.--Catholic
Emancipation, and a Repeal of the Union Act, (the latter,
the most successful engine that England ever wielded
over the misery of fallen Ireland,) being treated of in
the following address, as grievances which unanimity and
resolution may remove and associations conducted with
peaceable firmness, being earnestly recommended, as means
for embodying that unanimity and firmness, which must
finally be successful.

Proposals for an Association of those Philanthropists, who convinced of the inadequacy of the moral and political state of Ireland to produce benefits which are nevertheless attainable are willing to unite to accomplish its regeneration. By Percy Bysshe Shelley. Dublin: Printed by I. Eton, Winetavern Street. [1812.] 8vo, pp. 18.

1813.

Queen Mab. A Philosophical Poem. With Notes. By Percy Bysshe Shelley. London: Printed by P. B. Shelley, 23 Chapel Street, Grosvenor Square. 1813. Crown 8vo, pp. 240.

Ecrasez L’Infame!
_Correspondance de Voltaire._

Avia Pieridum peragro loca, nullius ante
Trita solo; juvat integros accedere fonteis;
Atque haurire: juratque novos decerpere flores.

* * * * *

Unde prius nulli velarint tempora musæ.
Primum quod magnis doceo de rebus; et arctis
Religionum animos nodio exsolvere pergo.--_Lucret._ lib. iv.

Δος που στῶ, καὶ κοσμος κινησω.--_Archimedes._

A Vindication of Natural Diet. Being one in a Series of Notes to Queen Mab, a Philosophical Poem. London: Printed for J. Callow, Medical Bookseller, Crown Court, Princes Street, Soho, by Smith & Davy, Queen Street, Seven Dials. 1813. Price 1s. 6d. 12mo, pp. 43.

Ιαπετιονιδη, παντων περι μηδεα ειδωσ,
Χαρεισ μεν πυρ κλεψασ, και εμασ φρενασ ηπεροπευσασ;
Σοι τ’ αυτω μεγα πημα και ανδρασιν εσσομενοισι.
Τοισ δ’ εγω αντι πυροσ δωσω κακον, ω κεν απαντεσ
Τερπωνται κατα θυμον, εον κακον αμφαγαπωντεσ.
--ΗΣΙΩΔ. _Op. et Dies._ i. 54.

1814.

A Refutation of Deism. In a Dialogue. London: Printed by Schulze & Dean, 13 Poland Street. 1814. 8vo, pp. v. 101.

ΣΥΝΕΤΟΙΣΙΝ.

1816.

Alastor; or, The Spirit of Solitude, and other Poems. By Percy Bysshe Shelley. London: Printed for Baldwin, Cradock, & Joy, Paternoster Row, and Carpenter & Son, Old Bond Street, by S. Hamilton, Weybridge, Surrey. 1816. Fcp. 8vo, pp. 101.

1817.

A Proposal for putting Reform to the Vote throughout the Kingdom. By the Hermit of Marlow. London: Printed for C. & J. Ollier, 3 Welbeck Street, Cavendish Square, by C. H. Reynell, 21 Piccadilly. 1817. 8vo, pp. 13.

An Address to the People on the Death of the Princess Charlotte. By the Hermit of Marlow. [1817.]

“We Pity the Plumage, but forget the Dying Bird.”

No copy of the original edition, apparently limited to
twenty copies, is known to exist. A facsimile reprint,
reprinted for Thomas Rodd, 2 Great Newport Street, 8vo, pp.
16, was issued not later than 1843, and is still procurable.

History of a Six Weeks’ Tour through a Part of France, Switzerland, Germany, and Holland. With Letters descriptive of a Sail round the Lake of Geneva, and of the Glaciers of Chamouni. London: Published by T. Hookham, Jun., Old Bond Street, and C. & J. Ollier, Welbeck Street. 1817. Fcp. 8vo, pp. vi. 183.

1818.

Laon and Cythna; or, The Revolution of the Golden City. A Vision of the Nineteenth Century. In the Stanza of Spenser. By Percy B. Shelley. London: Printed for Sherwood, Neely, & Jones, Paternoster Row, and C. & J. Ollier, Welbeck Street, by B. M’Millan, Bow Street, Covent Garden. 1818. 8vo, pp. xxxii. 270.

ΔΟΣ ΠΟΥ ΣΤΩ ΚΑΙ ΚΟΣΜΟΝ ΚΙΝΗΣΩ.--Archimedes.

The Revolt of Islam. A Poem, in Twelve Cantos. By Percy Bysshe Shelley. London: Printed for C. & J. Ollier, Welbeck Street, by B. M’Millan, Bow Street, Covent Garden. 1818. 8vo, pp. xxxii. 270.

1819.

Rosalind and Helen. A Modern Eclogue; with other Poems. By Percy Bysshe Shelley. London: Printed for C. & J. Ollier, Vere Street, Bond Street 1819. 8vo, pp. 92.

The Cenci. A Tragedy, in Five Acts. By Percy B. Shelley. Italy: Printed for C. & J. Ollier, Vere Street, Bond Street, London. 1819. 8vo, pp. xiv. 104.

The Cenci. A Tragedy in Five Acts. By Percy Bysshe Shelley. Second edition. London: C. & J. Ollier, Vere Street, Bond Street. 1821. 8vo, pp. xviii. 104.

1820.

Prometheus Unbound. A Lyrical Drama in Four Acts, with other Poems. By Percy Bysshe Shelley. London: C. & J. Ollier, Vere Street, Bond Street. 1820. 8vo, pp. 222.

Audisne hæc, amphiaræ, sub terram abdite?

Œdipus Tyrannus; or, Swellfoot the Tyrant. A Tragedy in Two Acts. Translated from the Original Doric. London: Published for the Author, by J. Johnston, 98 Cheapside, and sold by all Booksellers. 1820. 8vo, pp. 39.

----Choose Reform or civil-war,
When thro thy streets, instead of hare with dogs,
A Consort-Queen shall hunt a King with hogs,
Riding on the IONIAN MINOTAUR.

1821.

Adonais. An Elegy on the Death of John Keats, Author of Endymion, Hyperion, &c. By Percy B. Shelley. Pisa: With the types of Didot. 1821. 4to, pp. 25.

Αστήρ τρὶν μὲν ἐλαμπες ενι ζῶοισιν εῶος.
Νυν δε θανῶν, λαμπεις ἔσπερος εν φθίμενοις.--_Plato._

Epipsychidion. Verses addressed to the Noble and Unfortunate Lady Emilia V----, now imprisoned in the Convent of ----. London: C. & J. Ollier, Vere Street, Bond Street. 1821. 8vo, pp. 31.

L’anima amante si slancia fuori del creato, e si crea nel
infinite un Mondo tuito per essa, diverso assai da questo
oscuro e pauroso baratro.
Her own words.

1822.

Hellas. A Lyrical Drama. By Percy B. Shelley. London: Charles and James Ollier, Vere Street, Bond Street. 1822. 8vo, pp. xii. 60.

ΜΑΝΤΙΣ ΕΙΜ’ ΕΣΘΛΩΝ ἈΓΩΝΩΝ.--_Odip. Colon._

The last work published by Shelley himself. The remainder
are posthumous publications.

POSTHUMOUS PUBLICATIONS.

Posthumous Poems of Percy Bysshe Shelley. London: Printed for John and Henry L. Hunt, Tavistock Street, Covent Garden. 1824. 8vo, pp. xii. 415.

In nobil sangue vita umile e queta,
Ed in alto intelletto un puro core;
Frutto senile in sul giovenil fiore,
E in aspetto pensoso anima lieta.--_Petrarca._

The Masque of Anarchy. A Poem. By Percy Bysshe Shelley. Now first published, with a Preface by Leigh Hunt. London: Edward Moxon, 64 New Bond Street. 1832. Fcp. 8vo, pp. xxx. 47.

Hope is strong:
Justice and Truth their winged child have found.--_Revolt of Islam._

The Shelley Papers. Memoir of Percy Bysshe Shelley, by T. Medwin, Esq., and Original Poems and Papers, by Percy Bysshe Shelley. Now first collected. London: Whittaker, Treacher, & Co. 1833. 18mo, pp. viii. 180.

Essays, Letters from Abroad, Translations and Fragments. By Percy Bysshe Shelley. Edited by Mrs. Shelley. In two volumes. London: Edward Moxon, Dover Street. 1840. Crown 8vo, pp. xxxii. 320, viii. 360.

Relics of Shelley. Edited by Richard Garnett. London: Edward Moxon & Co., Dover Street. 1862. Fcp. 8vo, pp. xvi. 191.

“Sing again, with your dear voice revealing
A tone
Of some world far from ours,
Where music and moonlight and feeling
Are one.”

Contents.--(Preface)--Prologue to Hellas (with note)--The
Magic Plant (with note)--Orpheus (with note)--Scene
from Tasso (with note)--Fiordispina (with note)--To
his Genius--Love, Hope, Desire, and Fear--Lines (“We
meet not as we parted”)--Lines written in the Bay of
Lerici--Fragments of the Adonais (with notes)--Translation
of the First Canzone of Dante’s Convito.

INDEX.

Addison, his _Cato_, ii. 16

Æschylus, quoted, ii. 340

Alfieri, ii. 390

Alps, the, i. 119, 120, 348

Anacreon’s swallow, ii. 359

_Anastasius_, ii. 341

Annual Parliaments, i. 364, 365

Apollodorus, a pupil of Socrates, ii. 49

Apollonius Rhodius, i. 410

Ariosto, tomb of, ii. 245;
his arm-chair, 246;
handwriting of, 247

Aristotle, ii. 49

Aspasia, ii. 134, 135

Bacon, quoted, ii. 4;
a poet, 8, 49

Barthélemi, ii. 44

Bisham wood, ii. 278

Blackstone, quoted, i. 254

Boccaccio, ii. 294, 295

Buffon, his sublime but gloomy theory respecting the future of this
globe, i. 352

Byron, Lord, his _Hours of Idleness_, quotations or plagiarisms from?
i. 132, 174;
visit to, at Ravenna, 390, 391;
his meeting with “Monk” Lewis, ii. 208;
at Venice, 226;
a gondoliere’s opinion of, 236;
Shelley’s visit to, at Venice, 237;
his _Don Juan_, 241;
his _Childe Harold_, 259;
his low debauchery, _ib._;
a great poet, 260;
visit to, at Ravenna, 332-345;
his Letter to Bowles, 342;
his _Cain_, 355;
at Leghorn, 362, 364

Calderon, i. 388, ii. 14, 305, 306;
his _Magico Prodigioso_, 353, 354

Calvin and Servetus, i. 229

Castlereagh, ii. 268

Catholic emancipation, i. 242 _sqq._

Charlotte, Princess, death of, i. 369

Chaucer, ii. 27

Chesterfield, Lord, his distinction between simulation and
dissimulation, ii. 394

Chillon, castle of, i. 340

Cicero, ii. 8, 49

Clarens, i. 341

Cobbett, William, on Annual Parliaments, i. 365; ii. 276, 289

Coleridge, S. T., his tragedy of _Remorse_, ii. 292, 353, 354

Coliseum, the, i. 394; ii. 260

Como, ii. 223-225

Comyns, Lord Chief Baron, his definition of libel, i. 254

Constantine, the first Christian Emperor, atrocities of, i. 306;
arch of, ii. 261, 280, 281

Correggio, two pictures of, ii. 249, 250

Dante, i. 385; ii. 24;
the first religious reformer, 27, 40;
tomb of, 344

Danube, the, i. 15, 32

Democritus, i. 400

Diotima, the prophetess, ii. 88, 89

Dowden, Professor, ii. 387

Drummond, Sir William, his _Academical Questions_, i. 327; ii. 176

Eaton, Daniel Isaac, sentence on, for publishing Paine’s _Age of
Reason_, ii. 369-386

Ellenborough, Lord, Shelley’s letter to, ii. 369-386

Epicurus, i. 421

Evian, town of, i. 335, 336

Finnerty, Mr. Peter, i. 255; ii. 399

Fitzwilliam, Lord, recall of, ii. 303

Fletcher, John, his _Two Noble Kinsmen_, ii. 255

Forsyth’s Travels in Italy, ii. 285

Fox, Charles James, i. 238

Franceschini, pictures of, ii. 251, 252

Fust, specimens of his press, ii. 344

Genoa, i. 153

George III., i. 237

George IV., i. 238

Gibbon, his house at Lausanne, i. 343

Gisborne, Mr. and Mrs., letters to, ii. 229-231, 290-291, 296-299,
301-309, 312-319, 326-330, 350-356

Gisborne, Mrs., ii. 228, 229

Godwin, William, his novels, i. 412-416;
letter to, ii. 231-233, 317;
his answer to Malthus, 352;
his law-suit and pecuniary embarrassments, 360, 361

Goethe, his _Faust_, ii. 353

Guercino, pictures by, ii. 253

Guiccioli, Contessa, Byron’s liaison with, ii. 333, 337, 340;
her letter to Shelley, 343, 350, 351

Guido, his picture of the Rape of Proserpine, ii. 249;
his Samson, 250;
his Murder of the Innocents, 250, 251;
his “Fortune,” 251;
his “Madonna Lattante,” _ib._;
his picture of Beatrice Cenci, 293

Heraclitus, i. 400

Hermance, village of, described, i. 333

Hesiod, quoted, ii. 61

Heyne, on the opinions entertained of the Jews by ancient poets and
philosophers, i. 301

Hogg, Thomas Jefferson, his _Memoirs of Prince Alexy Haimatoff_, ii.
387-396

Homer, quoted, ii. 56, 62;
on Calamity, 80, 81;
the most admirable of all poets, 115;
quoted, 124, 126, 127

Horace, quoted, i. 105; ii. 275

Hume, on causation, i. 327

Hunt, Leigh, letters to, i. 381-391;
invited by Lord Byron to Italy, ii. 268;
letter to, 294-296, 317, 362, 364

Kean, Edmund, ii. 293

Keats, John, his _Endymion_, ii. 322-324;
his sufferings, 323;
death of, 327

Lafayette, words of, i. 262

Lamb, Charles, i. 384; ii. 295

Laplace, demonstration of, i. 319

Lausanne, i. 343

Lear, King, ii. 14

Lewis, M. G., his ghost stories, ii. 208-212

Livy, ii. 9;
description by, 256

Lloyd, Charles, ii. 295

Locke, on sensation, i. 327

Lucretius, quoted, i. 296

Luther, ii. 27

Lyttelton, Lord, ii. 210, 211, 212

_Macbeth_, quoted, i. 47, 93, 273; ii. 21, 31, 375

Macchiavelli, on political institutions, ii. 17

Malthus, i. 280, 281;
Godwin’s answer to, ii. 232, 352;
a very clever man, 243

Marlow, ii. 223;
Shelley’s house at, 226

Marsyas, ii. 106, 107

Mellerie, i. 336, 337

Michael Angelo, i. 384, 385;
his Bacchus, 409

Milan Cathedral, ii. 225

Milton, death of, i. 370

Milton, his _Paradise Lost_ quoted, i. 146, 415;
stood alone, ii. 16;
his _Paradise Lost_, 25, 33;
quoted, 35

Mirabaud’s _Système de la Nature_, i. 326

Mont Blanc, i. 348

Moore, Thomas, ii. 339, 357, 358, 361

Music, ii. 70, 71

Nerni, village of, described, i. 334

Newton, Sir Isaac, ii. 374

Obscenity, blasphemy against the divine beauty in life, ii. 17

O’Neill, Miss, part of Beatrice Cenci fitted for, ii. 293

Oxford, reminiscence of, ii. 193

Paine, Thomas, i. 278

Peacock, Thomas Love, letters to, ii. 221-229, 241-290, 291-293

Petrarch, ii. 40

Petronius, poetical description of, ii. 265

Plato, i. 421;
essentially a poet, ii. 7, 22, 24;
the greatest among the Greek philosophers, 48;
his Symposium, 232

Pliny quoted, i. 294

Pompeii, ii. 270-275

_Queen Mab_, piratical republication of, ii. 328, 350

Raphael, i. 384;
his St. Cecilia, ii. 252, 253

Ravenna, ii. 338

Reveley, Henry, letters to, ii. 299-301, 309-312, 325, 326

Richardson, Samuel, his _Grandison_ quoted, ii. 237

Rome, a city of the dead, ii. 261;
English burying-place at, 262

Rousseau, his _Julie_, i. 333, 337, 339-341, 343;
essentially a poet, ii. 30

Schiller, his _Jungfrau von Orleans_, ii. 352

Scott’s _Lay of the Last Minstrel_ quoted, i. 47, 212;
_Marmion_ quoted, 100

Shakespeare, quoted, i. 384;
the greatest individual mind, ii. 40;
attribution to him of part of _The Two Noble Kinsmen_, 255

Shelley, Mrs., her _Frankenstein_, i. 417-419

Socrates, ii. 53-135, 381

Sophocles, ii. 317

Southey, Robert, Shelley’s visit to, at Keswick, ii. 295

Spinosa, quoted, i. 328

St. Gingoux, village of, i. 338

St. Peter’s, Rome, ii. 282, 283

Suetonius, quoted, i. 294

Tasso, bold and true words of, ii. 35, 175;
manuscripts of, 246, 247

Terence, i. 409

Theocritus, ii. 19;
quoted, 291

Thomson, quoted, i. 77

Translation, vanity of, ii. 7

Tuberose, odour of the, ii. 17

Vallière, Madame de la, ii. 214

Velino, cataract of the, ii. 257

Venice, i. 87, 88; ii. 241

Vesuvius, ii. 263, 265-267

Vevai, i. 343

Virgil, quoted, ii. 25;
his Sixth Æneid, 264

Wellesley, Marquis, quotation from a speech of, ii. 369

Wieland, his novels, ii. 44

Wollstonecraft, Mary, her writings, i. 413

Wordsworth, i. 413;
quoted, ii. 206, 263, 353

Yvoire, village of, i. 335

THE END.

_Printed by_ Ballantyne, Hanson & Co.
_Edinburgh and London_

Transcriber’s Notes

A number of typographical errors were corrected silently.

Cover image is in the public domain.