Chapter XIII (2)

'A close examination of the validity of the proofs adduced to support
any proposition, has ever been allowed to be the only sure way of
attaining truth, upon the advantages of which it is unnecessary to
descant; our knowledge of the existence of a Deity is a subject of
such importance, that it cannot be too minutely investigated; in
consequence of this conviction, we proceed briefly and impartially to
examine the proofs which have been adduced. It is necessary first to
consider the nature of Belief.

'When a proposition is offered to the mind, it perceives the agreement
or disagreement of the ideas of which it is composed. A perception of
their agreement is termed belief, many obstacles frequently prevent
this perception from being immediate, these the mind attempts to
remove in order that the perception may be distinct. The mind is
active in the investigation, in order to perfect the state of
perception which is passive; the investigation being confused with the
perception has induced many falsely to imagine that the mind is active
in belief, that belief is an act of volition, in consequence of which
it may be regulated by the mind; pursuing, continuing this mistake
they have attached a degree of criminality to disbelief of which in
its nature it is incapable; it is equally so of merit.

'The strength of belief like that of every other passion is in
proportion to the degrees of excitement.

'The degrees of excitement are three.

'The senses are the sources of all knowledge to the mind, consequently
their evidence claims the strongest assent.

'The decision of the mind founded upon our own experience derived from
these sources, claims the next degree.

'The experience of others, which addresses itself to the former one,
occupies the lowest degree.--

'Consequently no testimony can be admitted which is contrary to
reason, reason is founded on the evidence of our senses.

'Every proof may be referred to one of these three divisions; we are
naturally led to consider what arguments we receive from each of them
to convince us of the existence of a Deity.

'1st. The evidence of the senses.--If the Deity should appear to us,
if he should convince our senses of his existence, this revelation
would necessarily command belief:--Those to whom the Deity has thus
appeared, have the strongest possible conviction of his existence.

'Reason claims the 2nd place, it is urged that man knows that whatever
is, must either have had a beginning or existed from all eternity, he
also knows that whatever is not eternal must have had a cause.--Where
this is applied to the existence of the universe, it is necessary to
prove that it was created; until that is clearly demonstrated, we may
reasonably suppose that it has endured from all eternity.--In a case
where two propositions are diametrically opposite, the mind believes
that which is less incomprehensible, it is easier to suppose that the
universe has existed from all eternity, than to conceive a being
capable of creating it; if the mind sinks beneath the weight of the
one, is it an alleviation to increase the intolerability of the
burden?--The other argument which is founded upon a man's knowledge
of his own existence stands thus:--A man knows not only he now is, but
that there was a time when he did not exist, consequently there must
have been a cause.--But what does this prove? we can only infer from
effects causes exactly adequate to those effects:--But there certainly
is a generative power which is effected by particular instruments; we
cannot prove that it is inherent in these instruments, nor is the
contrary hypothesis capable of demonstration; we admit that the
generative power is incomprehensible, but to suppose that the same
effect is produced by an eternal, omniscient, Almighty Being, leaves
the cause in the same obscurity, but renders it more incomprehensible.

'The 3rd and last degree of assent is claimed by Testimony--it is
required that it should not be contrary to reason.--The testimony that
the Deity convinces the senses of men of his existence can only be
admitted by us, if our mind considers it less probable that these men
should have been deceived, than that the Deity should have appeared to
them--our reason can never admit the testimony of men, who not only
declare that they were eye-witnesses of miracles but that the Deity
was irrational, for he commanded that he should be believed, he
proposed the highest rewards for faith, eternal punishments for
disbelief--we can only command voluntary actions, belief is not an act
of volition, the mind is even passive, from this it is evident that we
have not sufficient testimony, or rather that testimony is
insufficient to prove the being of a God, we have before shewn that it
cannot be deduced from reason,--they who have been convinced by the
evidence of the senses, they only can believe it.

'From this it is evident that having no proofs from any of the three
sources of conviction: the mind _cannot_ believe the existence of a
God, it is also evident that as belief is a passion of the mind, no
degree of criminality can be attached to disbelief, they only are
reprehensible who willingly neglect to remove the false medium thro'
which their mind views the subject.

'It is almost unnecessary to observe, that the general knowledge of
the deficiency of such proof, cannot be prejudicial to society: Truth
has always been found to promote the best interests of mankind.--Every
reflecting mind must allow that there is no proof of the existence of
a Deity. Q.E.D.'

On a separate leaf between the title-page and the first page of the text of the tract the author put this

'Advertisement:--As a love of truth is the only motive which actuates
the Author of this little tract, he earnestly entreats that those of
his readers who may discover any deficiency in his reasoning, or may
be in possession of proofs which his mind could never obtain, would
offer them, together with their objections, to the Public, as briefly
as methodically, as plainly as he has taken the liberty of doing.
Thro' deficiency of proof,--An Atheist.'

In the middle of the title-page appears this title, 'Quod clarâ et perspicuâ demonstratione careat pro vero habere mens omnino nequit humana.'--_Bacon de Augment. Scient._; whilst at the foot of the same page appears this announcement:--'Worthing.--Printed By E. & W. Phillips. Sold in London and Oxford.' It having been so often asserted that this tract was neither published nor printed with a view to ordinary publication, readers should take note of the words, 'Sold in London and Oxford.' The promise of these words was fulfilled, at least so far as Oxford was concerned. Duly advertised in the _Oxford Herald_ of 9th February, 1811, on the eve of its publication, the tract was offered for sale at Oxford in the usual way. Even by Mr. Buxton Forman it is admitted that the tract 'was "on sale" in Oxford for twenty minutes.' Mr. Forman does not say who counted the minutes. Possibly the expression was merely meant by Mr. Forman to signify that the work was on sale for part only of a single day. That it was no longer on sale within their jurisdiction was, of course, due to the authorities of the University, whose prompt action for the suppression of the work may be presumed to have been the direct or indirect cause of the destruction of the copies of the pamphlet, lying in the hands of the author's Oxford bookseller.

However they may differ about the literary style and logical force of this tract, all fair readers must allow that it exhibits no signs of levity, no indication of having been thrown off in jest as a satire on the class of performances to which it really belongs. From the first line to the last, it accords with the Atheist's declaration (in the advertisement) that he is actuated by a love of truth, and is earnestly desirous that its arguments may receive serious consideration. Yet it has been described as a mere harmless piece of fun.

The Shelleyan apologists call attention to the brevity of the monograph, as though it were a fact in Shelley's favour. It is suggested that serious books are long books of many pages with many words on a page; and that so short an essay (even if it was wrong of Shelley to produce it) should be regarded as a trivial performance, and its publication as nothing worse than a trivial indiscretion; the implication being that the Master and Fellows of University College were guilty of monstrous injustice and cruelty in expelling the author of so small a work. In thus prating about the insignificant size of the work, these apologists resemble the peccant maid-servant, who pleaded that, if she had given birth to an infant without having gone through any form of lawful marriage, it should be remembered, in palliation of the misdemeanour, that her baby was an unusually little one. Writing from those 'authentic sources,' which have afforded her much strange misinformation, Lady Shelley assures us that the little pamphlet was a 'publication consisting of only two pages;' whereas if she will only return to her original sources and count the duly numbered pages, the author of _Shelley Memorials_ will discover that the text of the small treatise occupies _seven pages_, besides the title-page and the page exhibiting the 'advertisement,' which is no immaterial part of the composition. How came Lady Shelley to count the pages so carelessly? Lady Shelley is curiously wrong on other points about this little pamphlet. 'In point of fact,' we are told by the lady who suffered so acutely from Hogg's inaccuracies, 'the pamphlet did not contain any positive assertion.' Why, the tract is made of positive assertions; it would not be easy for Lady Shelley to find another tract of the same length, containing a greater number of positive assertions. The tract concludes with a sentence of these words:--'Every reflecting mind must allow that there is no proof of the existence of a Deity;' words followed by what the lady calls 'a Q. E. D.' What more does this assertion require to render it 'positive?' Speaking from her original sources, Lady Shelley tells us that Shelley wrote the little pamphlet 'hastily,' and 'with his habitual disregard of consequences.' How a pamphlet, made up out of the 'very careful analysis' of Hume's _Essays_, which Shelley and his friend had prepared in the previous term, can be said to have been written hastily, is not apparent.

Hogg's narrative, and the extant letter that passed between him and Shelley in the Christmas holidays, abound with evidence that the latter came gradually to his opinions touching the non-existence of Deity, and that the pamphlet was the result of much deliberation. It is no less certain that instead of publishing the tract with 'habitual disregard of consequences,' Shelley gave much thought to the consequences of a discovery that he wrote it. Publishing it anonymously, he was at much pains to keep the authorship a secret. Yet further we are assured by Lady Shelley:--

'The publication ... seemed rather to imply, on the part of the
writer, a desire to obtain better reasoning on the side of commonly
received opinion, than any wish to overthrow with sudden violence the
grounds of men's belief.'

The reader who knows the circumstances under, and the end for, which the pamphlet was produced, and has perused the _ipsissima verba_ of the tract, may be left to form his own opinion of this example of the way in which the authorities of Field Place would write the poet's history.

I would not be wanting in courtesy to Mr. Garnett of the British Museum, of whom I would say nothing worse than that he is wildly and inexplicably inaccurate in what he has written about _The Necessity of Atheism_. There is a curious discrepancy between Lady Shelley's account and Mr. Garnett's description of the famous tract. Whilst Lady Shelley regards the pamphlet as a serious attempt to strengthen the evidences of the existence of the Deity, by eliciting 'better reasoning on the side of the commonly received' view, Mr. Garnett declares that the essay was a mere piece of caustic playfulness. 'After Hogg's account of it,' says Mr. Garnett, in his article on _Shelley in Pall Mall_, 'it is sufficiently clear that this alarming performance was nothing else than a squib, prompted by the decided success of the burlesque verses the friends had published in the name of "My Aunt Margaret Nicholson."' A squib, in the sense suggested by Mr. Garnett, is a flash of humour, a lampoon, a slight satire, a little censorious writing. A learned gentleman, Mr. Garnett knows well enough what 'squib' means, when it is applied to a little book. Yet he tells the readers of _Macmillan's Magazine_ that Shelley's serious argument against the belief in God was a mere product of caustic fun and humorous sprightliness. What a charge to make against Shelley! Mr. Garnett is one of Shelley's friends, admirers, idolaters; and he declares that Shelley made a jest of the most solemn and awful of all momentous questions; was so droll a fellow that he styled himself an Atheist, and argued against the existence of the Deity in pure sportiveness. This is how Shelley is dealt with by one of his peculiar friends!

What does Mr. Garnett mean by giving Hogg as his authority for saying that _The Necessity of Atheism_ was a squib, when Hogg is at pains to say the tract was no such thing? Hogg writes lightly and seriously by turns of the tract, as he does of other matters of the poet's story. He speaks of the pamphlet as 'a small pill that worked powerfully.' To minimize the importance of the work, for which he was even more accountable than Shelley; to make the least of the serious offence, touching his own character no less hurtfully than Shelley's reputation, Hogg calls it a 'little pamphlet,' 'a general issue,' 'a compendious allegation in order to put the whole case in proof,' 'a formal mode of saying, you affirm so-and-so, then prove it,' 'a little syllabus,' 'an innocent and insignificant thesis propounded for the delectation of lovers of logomachy,' a tract that 'was never offered for sale.' In this style Hogg speaks lightly of the work, that was the central incident of the painful business, about which he felt too acutely and personally to his last hour, to be able to speak of it truthfully. The whole affair was one of the few subjects on which the otherwise substantially honest biographer was untruthful. Consequently, had he called the tract a squib, in some sentence at discord with his other statements about the pamphlet, Mr. Garnett would not have been justified in fathering his own discovery on an authority, so unworthy of perfect credit on this particular subject. But Hogg nowhere calls the tract a squib. On the contrary, he guards against any such misconstruction and misinterpretation of his lighter remarks, and is at pains to say that, so far as Shelley was concerned, the pamphlet was an altogether serious performance.

'In describing briefly the nature of Shelley's epistolary
contentions,' Hogg says, 'the recollection of his youth, his zeal, his
activity, and particularly of many individual peculiarities, may have
tempted me to speak sometimes with a certain levity, notwithstanding
the solemn importance of the topics respecting which they were
frequently maintained. The impression that they were conducted on his
part, or considered by him, with frivolity, or any unseemly lightness,
would, however, be most erroneous; his whole frame of mind was grave,
earnest, and anxious, and his deportment was reverential, with an
edification reaching beyond the age--an age wanting in reverence.'

Be it remembered that, in the later weeks of Shelley's second term of residence, the printed tract was a main feature and chief instrument of the 'epistolary contentions' to which the biographer refers? How then came Mr. Garnett to give Hogg as his authority for saying this 'grave, earnest, and anxious Shelley' diverted himself at Oxford with writing a squib on the most awful of all sacred subjects? How are we to account for so staggering a misrepresentation of the evidence of Hogg's book? In his article on _Shelley in Pall Mall_, Mr. Garnett speaks no less strongly than precisely of the evidential force of certain Shelleyan documents, not under the view of the public. What value should we assign to evidence, respecting documents we cannot examine, from a gentleman who can misrepresent in so extraordinary a manner the evidence of a printed book open to the whole world's scrutiny?

When _The Necessity of Atheism_ had been printed by Messrs. E. and W. Phillips, of Worthing, it was Shelley's practice to send a copy of the performance to any notable divine or other personage whom he wished to draw into a controversial correspondence, together with a brief note (under a false signature and address), saying--

'That he had met with that little tract, which appeared, unhappily, to
be quite unanswerable. Unless,' Hogg continues, 'the fish was too
sluggish to take the bait, an answer of refutation was forwarded to an
appointed address in London, and then in a vigorous reply he would
fall upon the unwary disputant, and break his bones. The strenuous
attack sometimes provoked a rejoinder more carefully prepared, and an
animated and protracted debate ensued: the party cited, having put in
his answer, was fairly in court, and he might get out of it as he
could.'

It was thus that 'the innocent and insignificant thesis propounded for the delectation of lovers of logomachy' (Hogg's description of the tract) was floated into circulation, by force of lie upon lie. Instead of being 'propounded for the delectation of lovers of logomachy,' it is stated by Hogg himself that the tract was composed and put in type because Shelley, finding strangers slow to notice a written challenge to argument, conceived they would be attracted by a printed syllabus. True, so far as it goes, this statement gives only part of the truth. Seeing that a printed scheme for disputation would be more attractive, Shelley saw also that he could not spare the time to produce a manuscript syllabus (written by his own hand) for each of the many persons whose bones he was set on breaking.

The day on which the undergraduate of University College received his first lot of printed copies from the Worthing printers is unknown; but it cannot have preceded by many days the appearance in the _Oxford Herald_ (9th February, 1811,) of this advertisement:--'Speedily will be published, to be had of the Booksellers of London and Oxford, _The Necessity of Atheism_. "Quod clarâ et perspicuâ demonstratione careat pro vero habere, mens omnino nequit humana."--_Bacon de Augment. Scient._' Probably the appearance of this advertisement in the Oxford newspaper followed closely upon the arrival at Shelley's rooms in University College of the first lot of printed copies from Worthing. Anyhow, the authorities of the University were advertised, so early as the 9th of February, that a work, to demonstrate the necessity of atheism, would be speedily offered for sale within their jurisdiction. Inserted in a newspaper, read by many members of the University, this advertisement came quickly under the eyes of the Vice-Chancellor and Proctors of the University, the Heads of Houses, and all other persons especially concerned in the maintenance of academic discipline at the seat of learning. There was gossip in the common-rooms. Sitting over their port, Doctors of Divinity and Masters of Arts exchanged sentiments respecting the audacious announcement. The proctors took counsel with their pro-proctors, and the acutest and most discreet of 'the bull-dogs' was ordered to keep a sharp look-out for the first copy of the atrocious publication that should be offered for sale in any bookseller's window. Of course it was the opinion of the authorities that Mr. Munday, the proprietor of the _Oxford Herald_, knew the atheist's real name; at least could say what induced him to put such a staggering advertisement in his paper. It cannot be questioned that Mr. Munday's shop, the office of the _Oxford Herald_, was watched day and night by persons who were instructed to take note of all individuals visiting the printer's premises. Doubtless, also, the people at the Post Office were affected by the measures, taken by the academic authorities for the discovery of the person or persons, who should venture to sell atheistical literature in the City of the Church. The Vice-Chancellor and Proctors have good and sufficient means of observing what is done at Oxford in this present year of grace, and had even better means of observation seventy years since.

Whilst the academic authorities were taking measures for the discovery of any persons who should trouble the University with an atheistical publication, Shelley was sending out copies of the tract, and replying to the letters of his numerous correspondents. Each of the copies so sent forth by the author was commended to the careful consideration of its recipient by several falsehoods,--the untruths of the printed advertisement, and the untruths of the letter accompanying the work. It was untrue that the author's 'only motive' in putting the tract in circulation was 'a love of truth;' he was actuated by resentment against the religious earnestness which had caused Miss Harriett Grove to dismiss him from her acquaintance, and by a desire to slay what he called bigotry and intolerance. It was untrue that he hoped earnestly the recipient of the pamphlet would show him defects in his arguments; all he desired being a reply that would afford him an opportunity for breaking the replicant's bones! It was untrue that he had come accidentally on the little tract, which he had written himself. It was not true that the apparent conclusiveness of the arguments caused him unhappiness. The name appended to his letter was a false name; the address from which he pretended to write was a falsehood. When he pretended to be a woman he was guilty of another falsehood. The most offensive of all the falsehoods was the profession that he was suffering from his religious doubts, and sincere in asking the stranger to aid him in dispersing them.

It has been repeatedly urged, in palliation of the falsehoods Shelley employed in provoking and prosecuting 'his epistolary contentions,' that the scholars of former time, who brought about the revival of letters or were the offspring of the revival, contended with one another by epistles as well as by word of mouth, and that their letters, instead of being signed with their rightful Christian names and surnames, were usually signed with fanciful names of their own manufacture. The apology, were it true to the facts of the ancient fashion, would not justify Shelley's deceits; but it is a misrepresentation of the innocent usage of the old disputants. The mediæval scholar, who wrangled and wrote under an assumed name, held steadily to his adopted name, so that he was known by it and by no other name in the Universities and scholarly guilds. When Gerard's illegitimate son had once styled himself Desiderius Erasmus, in accordance with the innocent though fantastic and pedantic fashion of his contemporaries, he was styled so to his dying hour. The man who thus takes a name and sticks to it, whether he be a soldier or lawyer, a politician or dramatic actor, is guilty of no falsehood. Erasmus did not change his name every day of the week from a deceitful motive; he did not use a score of _aliases_ at the same time; it was not his habit to write to charitable people saying that he was a woman, and whilst feigning to be some one else to pretend he was living in one place whilst he was living in another place. In his epistolary diversions the singularly outspoken and truth-loving Shelley was guilty of all these various forms of misrepresentation. He used a score of different names, misrepresented his sex, told fibs about his address, said he was unhappy at what caused him delight, declared himself to have come accidentally on the book written by his own hand, declared to strangers that he was actuated solely by love of truth at the moment when he was boasting to Hogg that he was animated by hatred of religion. It cannot be denied that he was habitually guilty of all these different forms of deceit. It is admitted he was guilty of them, even by those who extol him for his singular frankness and sincerity.

The end to Shelley's Oxford career came suddenly. From the day of his return to College after the Christmas vacation, things had gone pleasantly with the undergraduate. When Medwin, on passing through Oxford, spent a day with his cousin, he found him agreeably diverted with the incidents of his controversial correspondence with learned divines, including the Bishop who thought him a woman. He was exchanging letters with charming little Harriett Westbrook. His efforts for the benefit of Miss Janetta Phillips had been successful. He was on friendly, if not affectionate, terms with his father, and was at work on the poem for the Newdigate Prize. In spite of all Mr. Denis Florence MacCarthy says to the contrary, he delighted as much as heretofore in the society of Hogg. The term was drawing to an end, and in a week or two the young men hoped to be at Field Place, in the society of the young lady, whose assent to their wishes would make them brothers-in-law. Nothing had occurred to forewarn him of the storm so soon to break in fury upon him, when, one fine, bright, cheery morning, Mr. Percy Bysshe Shelley received a summons to appear before the Master and some of the Fellows of his College in their common-room. It does not appear that, together with the summons, Shelley received an intimation of the business that made the Master and 'dons' wish to see him. It is more than probable that the messenger who brought the summons left the undergraduate to conjecture, why he was required to meet the magnates of the College in their common-room soon after the usual hour for breakfast. He can scarcely be supposed, however, to have gone to the common-room without an apprehension that _The Necessity of Atheism_ had something to do with the summons. His suspense was of no long duration. The Master and two or three Fellows were awaiting his arrival when he entered the room, and, on his appearance, the Master produced a copy of _the Little Syllabus_.

How the pamphlet came to the Master's hands is unknown to the present writer. There is reason to think the work had not been on sale in Oxford for many days, though its speedy publication had been advertised in the _Oxford Herald_ on the 9th of the previous month. There is reason for thinking that 25th March, 1811, the day of Shelley's expulsion, was also the day on which the tract was first offered for sale in Oxford. After the author's disgrace, no tradesman of the city would have ventured to offer the work to customers in the ordinary way of business. As the University police were doubtless on the look-out for the publication, it is not to be supposed that the tract had been long on sale before it came to the Master's hands. I should not be surprised to learn that the first copy displayed in Mr. Munday's shop-window was snapped up by an officer of the University within a few minutes of its appearance there, and that the policeman's act was speedily followed by the delivery of a notice, that determined Mr. Munday to lose no time in destroying all the copies of the work remaining in his possession. In fact, I should not be surprised to learn that Mr. Buxton Forman had good authority for the precise number of minutes which he represents (figuratively or literally) as covering the time during which the tract was on sale at Oxford. To imagine all this is, of course, also to conceive that the authorities of University College had already completed their inquiries respecting the work, had discovered the author, and at the break of the 25th day of March, were only waiting for an act of formal publication, to take promptly a course of action on which they had previously decided.

Anyhow, they were ready for decisive action on the young author's appearance before them. They certainly acted on that occasion with vigour and apparent promptitude; but it does not follow that they acted without due inquiry and deliberation. Anyhow, they fastened the deed on the door. They knew that Shelley was one of the authors, if not the sole author, of the tract. If, as Shelley and Hogg averred, the sentence for Shelley's expulsion was signed and sealed before he entered the common-room, the fact merely shows that the authorities came there only to act on the result of previous inquiry. The fact does not indicate precipitation or prejudgment of the case,--_i.e._ judgment before sufficient inquiry and clear discovery. It is not wonderful the Master and Fellows knew all about the matter; for at Oxford the academic authorities had great facilities for inquiry into such a business. Through inquiries and observations at the Post Office, the University police could easily discover to whom Shelley was writing letters,--to what address in London he was sending letters. It was easy work in the course of a few weeks to gather information from persons who had received copies of _the_ pamphlet, together with letters in the author's handwriting. It was also easy for the Master and 'dons' of University College to gather additional information respecting Shelley's previous history. There _is_ now, and _was_, seventy years since, close and confidential intercourse between the authorities of the Universities and the authorities of the public schools. A boy does not leave Eton with a very bad character and enter Oxford with a good one. From the date of his matriculation the 'dons' of University College knew what kind of boy Shelley was at Eton. As soon as he began to trouble them at Oxford, they knew what to expect from him, and how they must deal with him.

How did the outspoken and truth-loving Shelley act when the Master, taking the tract from his pocket, inquired whether he wrote it? Did he, in a manner becoming a martyr for the truth's sake, reply, 'Yes, sir, I wrote the pamphlet, and it declares faithfully my sincere convictions'? Did he in a manner suitable to a gentleman (interrogated by his collegiate superiors on a matter about which they had a clear right to question him, and about which they were bound to question him) answer frankly, 'Yes, sir, and I am prepared to take the consequences of my act'? Not a bit of it. The frank, outspoken, fearless Shelley shuffled and quibbled like an attorney's copying-clerk. He asked the Master's purpose in putting the question. He told the Master to produce his evidence. He blustered about the injustice and illegality of the Master's proceedings. Then, losing his temper, he became abusive. He accused the Master (who was only doing his duty) of tyranny, injustice, and vulgar violence. He asked for the production of evidence, demanded a formal trial, and yet refused to plead 'Not Guilty.' All that is known respecting what passed between the Master and Fellows on the one hand, and the contumacious undergraduate on the other hand, within the four walls of the common-room, comes to us from Shelley himself, by way of Hogg's pen. One would fain have a more reliable witness. But in default of better testimony, we must be content with the report of Shelley's evidence against himself.

It had been arranged between the two friends that Hogg should come to Shelley's rooms at an unusually early hour on the Lady-day of 1811. In accordance with this appointment, Hogg (little imagining what was even then going on in the common-room) entered his friend's apartment, whilst the latter was with 'the dons,' or on his way back from his interview with them. In a minute Shelley rushed into the room, terribly agitated.

'I am expelled,' he cried in a shrill voice, 'I am expelled! I was
sent for suddenly a few minutes ago; I went to the common-room, where
I found our Master and two or three of the Fellows. The Master
produced a copy of the _little syllabus_, and asked me if I were the
author of it. He spoke in a rude, abrupt, and insolent tone. I begged
to be informed for what purpose he put the question. No answer was
given; but the Master loudly and angrily repeated, "Are you the author
of this book?" "If I can judge from your manner," I said, "you are
resolved to punish me if I should acknowledge that it is my work. If
you can prove that it is, produce your evidence; it is neither just
nor lawful to interrogate me in such a case and for such a purpose.
Such proceedings would become a court of inquisitors, but not free men
in a free country." "Do you choose to deny that this is your
composition?" the Master reiterated in the same rude and angry voice.
Shelley (Hogg continues) complained much of his violent and
ungentlemanlike deportment, saying, "I have experienced tyranny and
injustice before, and I well know what vulgar violence is; but I never
met with such unworthy treatment." I told him calmly, but firmly, that
I was determined not to answer any questions respecting the
publication on the table. He immediately repeated his demand; I
persisted in my refusal; and he said furiously, "Then you are
expelled; and I desire you will quit the college early to-morrow
morning at the latest." One of the Fellows took up two papers, and
handed one of them to me; here it is.' He produced a regular sentence
of expulsion, drawn up in due form, under the seal of the college.

Here we have Shelley's account of the affair; or, to speak precisely, Hogg's report of Shelley's account of the affair. There appears no reason to question the substantial accuracy of the narrative. Allowance for prejudice and partiality must, of course, be made by the reader, especially in respect to those words that relate to the demeanour of the Master and Fellows. One can believe the authorities were gracious neither in their looks nor their voices. There was no reason why they should affect complaisance. If they were rude and harsh in style, Shelley admits that he was insolent and abusive. It is noteworthy that as soon as the collegiate powers, to whose 'civility' he had borne witness on a previous occasion, presumed to exercise authority over him, the undergraduate (of whose sweet gentleness we have heard so much) flew at them in a manner that was neither gentle nor sweet. In a moment he became the same contumacious youngster who had given his Etonian masters so much trouble. There is no reason to suppose that Hogg misreported Shelley, or that Shelley was inaccurate in the words, 'One of the fellows took up two papers and handed one of them to me.' The other paper was doubtless a similar writ of expulsion that had been prepared for delivery to Hogg. It follows, therefore, that before Shelley entered the common-room, the authorities had determined to dismiss both of the undergraduates from the college, and that Hogg learnt he was under sentence of banishment from Shelley's lips.

Like a true Durham-and-Yorkshireman, Hogg seized the bull by the horns. Seeing he would be expelled, was in fact already under sentence of expulsion, he saw it would be to his advantage to make it appear that he had been expelled for loyalty to his friend. It would discredit him with his kindred near Stockton-on-Tees to be expelled for conspiring with Shelley to teach atheism; on the other hand it would be rather to his credit with them, and all other robust hearers of the affair, to be expelled for sticking pluckily to a comrade in trouble. Seeing the politic course he took it boldly. Instead of going to his own rooms, where he would either find a written summons or a messenger inviting him to the conclave of 'dons' in the common-room, this smart young man seized a pen, and forthwith wrote the Master and Fellows an impudent letter, enjoining them to reconsider their action towards Shelley, recall their sentence of expulsion, retrace their steps, and behave better in the future. Never was an undergraduate, already under sentence of expulsion, guilty of more extravagant insolence to the authorities of his college. That Hogg was guilty of this act of cunning effrontery to the Master and Fellows, about whose insolence and vulgarity he is so indignant, we know from his own boastful confession.

'I wrote,' he says, 'a short note to the Master and Fellows, in which,
as far as I can remember a very hasty composition after a long
interval, I briefly expressed my sorrow at the treatment my friend had
experienced, and my hope that they would reconsider their sentence,
since, by the same course of proceedings, myself, or any other person,
might be subjected to the same penalty, and to the imputation of equal
guilt. The note was despatched; the conclave was still sitting; and in
an instant the porter came to summon me to attend, bearing in his
countenance a promise of the reception which I was about to find. The
angry and troubled air of men, assembled to commit injustice according
to established forms, was then new to me; but a native instinct told
me, as soon as I entered the room, that it was an affair of party;
that whatever could conciliate the favour of the patrons was to be
done without scruple; and whatever could tend to impede preferment was
to be brushed away without remorse. The glowing Master produced my
poor note. I acknowledged it; and he forthwith put into my hands, not
less abruptly, the little syllabus. "Did you write this?" he asked, as
fiercely as if I alone stood between him and the rich see of Durham. I
attempted, submissively, to point out to him the extreme unfairness of
the question; the injustice of punishing Shelley for refusing to
answer it.... When I was silent, the Master told me to retire, and to
consider whether I was resolved to persist in my refusal.... I had
scarcely passed the door, however, when I was recalled. The Master
again showed me the book, and hastily demanded whether I admitted or
denied that I was the author of it. I answered that I was fully
sensible of the many and great inconveniences of being dismissed with
disgrace from the University, and I specified some of them, and
expressed a humble hope that they would not impose such a mark of
discredit upon me without any cause. I lamented that it was impossible
either to admit or deny the publication,--no man of spirit could
submit to do so;--and that a sense of duty compelled me respectfully
to refuse to answer the question which had been proposed. "Then you
are expelled," said the Master angrily, in a loud, great voice. A
formal sentence, duly signed and sealed, was instantly put into my
hand; in what interval the instrument had been drawn up I cannot
imagine. The alleged offence was a contumacious refusal to disavow the
imputed publication. My eye glanced over it, and observing the word
_contumaciously_, I said, calmly, that I did not think that term was
justified by my behaviour.'

This is the substance of Hogg's prolix account of his own expulsion; an account at conflict in one important particular with Shelley's narrative of his expulsion, and affording several grounds for declaring it untruthful. Two writs--one of them certainly a writ of expulsion, and the other presumably a writ of expulsion--having been drawn up before Shelley entered the common-room, and Hogg having been told that whilst the one writ was given to Shelley the other was reserved by the 'dons,' the north-countryman had good ground for thinking the writ so reserved was the writ eventually given to him. If his account of the affair was truthful, in respect to the brevity of the conference and quickness of the proceedings, a third writ could not have been made out and sealed during so short and stormy a conference. There is no reason (apart from certain words of Hogg's narrative that seems to have been written disingenuously) for thinking a third writ was substituted for the reserved writ. Hogg cannot be supposed to have thought a third writ was so substituted. He must have assumed at the time that the writ, put into his hand, was the reserved writ of which Shelley had told him. In suggesting that the writ put into his hand was drawn up during the warm colloquy (_in what interval_ of it he could not _imagine_), Hogg must be thought to have written disingenuously, the object of the disingenuous writing being to cover a misdescription of the instrument itself. The writ having been penned before Shelley entered the common-room, it cannot have alleged that the sentence of expulsion was consequent on a 'contumacious refusal to disavow the imported publication.' Possibly the offence was not specified in the document. But if it was mentioned the instrument must have declared the sentence consequent on the atheistical writing. Hogg's motive for misdescribing the document is obvious. Smarting under the imputation of atheism, the Church-and-State Tory freethinker to the last represented himself to society as a sufferer from loyalty to his friend, and he misdescribed the writ so as to make it harmonize with the creditable view of his case.

The evidences are conflicting in some particulars and deficient in others, but the case may be stated thus:--Hogg and Shelley were the joint authors of the atheistical pamphlet, the former being on the whole the more culpable. This tract was put in circulation, and announced for sale, in Oxford. Having obtained proof that the tract was the production of the two undergraduates, the authorities of University College determined to expel the joint-authors as soon as the work should be offered for sale within the academic bounds. Acting on this resolve they sent in the forenoon of Lady-day for the culprits, summoning Shelley first as the one who had employed the printer, and been the busier in putting the tract in circulation. To put himself in a position to say that he had not been expelled for writing the atheistical tract, but merely for declining on grounds of principle to say whether he was concerned in the publication, Shelley refused to answer 'ay' or 'nay' to the Master's questions. For this contumacy alone the authorities would have been justified in dismissing him from the college. But using the writ drawn up before the refusal to answer questions, they expelled him as the joint author and promulgator of an atheistical work. Hogg was dealt with in like manner, and for the same reason, although he tried at the time to put his inevitable punishment on another ground, and subsequently took credit to himself for standing chivalrously by his friend, when he might (as he averred) have escaped punishment by a less generous course. That he knew he was under sentence of expulsion before he wrote the insolent letter to the 'dons' is sufficient proof that he was actuated by no chivalrous motive in writing the epistle. To urge that the 'dons' prejudged the case and acted with indecent precipitation, because they drew up the instrument of expulsion before sending for the offenders is absurd, because they knew the delinquents could not clear themselves. Events justified the action of the 'dons.' The culprits offered no defence, could not offer any, did not venture to say that they were innocent of the charge. The 'dons' had traced the offence to its actual doers before dismissing them from the college. No one who apprehends the legal constitution of the University, the obligations of the authorities, and the obligations of the undergraduates, can question that the writers of the tract were properly dismissed from University College, as persons who were no longer members of the Church of England, or deny that the Master and Fellows were under the circumstances bound to tell the pamphleteers to go about their business.

In his letter, dated 16th February, 1857, from Torquay (a letter already referred to more than once in these pages), Shelley's cousin, Charles Henry Grove, says, indeed, of _The Necessity of Atheism_ and its consequences, 'The pamphlet had not the author's name, but it was suspected in the University who was the author; and the young friends were dismissed from Oxford, for contumaciously refusing to deny themselves to be the authors of the work;' words of evidence that Shelley's attempt to misrepresent the cause of his dismissal from the University was not unsuccessful within the lines of his domestic circle; or at least of evidence that his near relatives liked to attribute his expulsion to contumacy rather than to atheism.

The account, given by Shelley of his expulsion to Peacock, differed notably in certain particulars from the substantially accurate account he gave on the morning of its occurrence to his fellow-collegian. To Thomas Love Peacock, the poet averred that 'his expulsion was a matter of great form and solemnity,' and that 'there was a sort of public assembly, before which he pleaded his own cause in a long oration, in the course of which he called on the illustrious spirits who had shed glory on those walls, to look down on their degenerate successors.' Yet further, in confirmation of this extravagant story, Shelley showed Peacock an Oxford newspaper, or what appeared to be an Oxford newspaper, containing a full report of these theatrical proceedings, together with his own oration at great length.

'His oration,' Peacock adds (_vide_ _Fraser's Magazine_, of June,
1858) 'may have been, as some of Cicero's published orations were, a
speech in the potential mood; one which might, could, should, or
would, have been spoken; but how in that case it got into the Oxford
newspaper passes conjecture.'

To the young gentleman, who made the Bishop imagine him a lady, and had confidential relations with John Munday (the Oxford bookseller and printer of the _Oxford Herald_), it is no injustice to suggest that, instead of being a veritable copy of the _Herald_, the paper exhibited to Hogg may have been a 'bogus' copy of the journal, made up in accordance with Mr. Percy Bysshe Shelley's instructions, for his private use. No reader, acquainted with Oxford and the ways in which things are done in the University (and in 'the city' whose people stand, or used to stand, in wholesome awe of the academic authorities), can need assurance that the business of the expulsion was a strictly private affair; that no proceedings in the case afforded diversion to a public assembly; that Mr. Percy Bysshe Shelley delivered no grand oration on the degeneracy of collegiate establishments; and that it is highly improbable any Oxford printer ventured to offer the readers of any _bonâ fide_ Oxford journal any 'such speech in the potential mood.'

On the morning following their expulsion (the morning of 26th March, 1811), Percy Bysshe Shelley and Thomas Jefferson Hogg, formerly of University College, Oxford, made the journey to London on the outside of a stage-coach. Thus Shelley passed in disgrace from his University at the close of his second residence-term; an event that may be regarded as the termination of the first period of his literary career. What a disastrous period it was! How fruitful of misadventure, ridicule, catastrophe, and shame! No literary aspirant, destined for imperishable fame, ever made a more inauspicious beginning. In his first voyages on literary waters, Byron encountered stormy weather and rough usage. His first book of poetry resembled Shelley's maiden volume, in being suppressed for fear of consequences. Ere his first razor had lost its edge, he was assailed by the _Edinburgh Review_. But having weathered the gale, that almost wrecked _The Hours of Idleness_, he enjoyed merry seas and favourable breezes. A notability before starting for Greece, he returned from the 'pilgrimage,' to spring to the highest pinnacle of fame. On leaving Oxford, Shelley had produced the _Victor-and-Cazire_ book (suppressed for want of originality); two of the feeblest and absurdest novels ever written in the English tongue; the _Posthumous Fragments of Margaret Nicholson_, that, despite all Hogg says to the contrary, made him the laughing-stock of Oxford; the advertisements of the _Poetical Essay_ that never saw the light; and (with Hogg's help) the _little_ syllabus that brought him to _great_ grief,--to about the greatest disgrace a young man can undergo at manhood's threshold, without falling in the grip of the criminal law.