The poem of "Hellas", written at the
suggestion
of the events of the
moment, is a mere improvise, and derives its interest (should it be
found to possess any) solely from the intense sympathy which the
Author feels with the cause he would celebrate.
moment, is a mere improvise, and derives its interest (should it be
found to possess any) solely from the intense sympathy which the
Author feels with the cause he would celebrate.
Shelley
& J.
Ollier in the spring of 1822.
A transcript of the poem by
Edward Williams is in the Rowfant Library. Ollier availed himself of
Shelley's permission to cancel certain passages in the notes; he also
struck out certain lines of the text. These omissions were, some of
them, restored in Galignani's one-volume edition of "Coleridge,
Shelley and Keats", Paris, 1829, and also by Mrs. Shelley in the
"Poetical Works", 1839. A passage in the "Preface", suppressed by
Ollier, was restored by Mr. Buxton Forman (1892) from a proof copy of
"Hellas" in his possession. The "Prologue to Hellas" was edited by Dr.
Garnett in 1862 ("Relics of Shelley") from the manuscripts at Boscombe
Manor.
Our text is that of the editio princeps, 1822, corrected by a list of
"Errata" sent by Shelley to Ollier, April 11, 1822. The Editor's Notes
at the end of Volume 3 should be consulted. ]
TO HIS EXCELLENCY
PRINCE ALEXANDER MAVROCORDATO
LATE SECRETARY FOR FOREIGN AFFAIRS TO THE HOSPODAR OF WALLACHIA
THE DRAMA OF HELLAS IS INSCRIBED AS AN
IMPERFECT TOKEN OF THE ADMIRATION,
SYMPATHY, AND FRIENDSHIP OF
THE AUTHOR.
Pisa, November 1, 1821.
PREFACE.
The poem of "Hellas", written at the suggestion of the events of the
moment, is a mere improvise, and derives its interest (should it be
found to possess any) solely from the intense sympathy which the
Author feels with the cause he would celebrate.
The subject, in its present state, is insusceptible of being treated
otherwise than lyrically, and if I have called this poem a drama from
the circumstance of its being composed in dialogue, the licence is not
greater than that which has been assumed by other poets who have
called their productions epics, only because they have been divided
into twelve or twenty-four books.
The "Persae" of Aeschylus afforded me the first model of my
conception, although the decision of the glorious contest now waging
in Greece being yet suspended forbids a catastrophe parallel to the
return of Xerxes and the desolation of the Persians. I have,
therefore, contented myself with exhibiting a series of lyric
pictures, and with having wrought upon the curtain of futurity, which
falls upon the unfinished scene, such figures of indistinct and
visionary delineation as suggest the final triumph of the Greek cause
as a portion of the cause of civilisation and social improvement.
The drama (if drama it must be called) is, however, so inartificial
that I doubt whether, if recited on the Thespian waggon to an Athenian
village at the Dionysiaca, it would have obtained the prize of the
goat. I shall bear with equanimity any punishment, greater than the
loss of such a reward, which the Aristarchi of the hour may think fit
to inflict.
The only "goat-song" which I have yet attempted has, I confess, in
spite of the unfavourable nature of the subject, received a greater
and a more valuable portion of applause than I expected or than it
deserved.
Common fame is the only authority which I can allege for the details
which form the basis of the poem, and I must trespass upon the
forgiveness of my readers for the display of newspaper erudition to
which I have been reduced. Undoubtedly, until the conclusion of the
war, it will be impossible to obtain an account of it sufficiently
authentic for historical materials; but poets have their privilege,
and it is unquestionable that actions of the most exalted courage have
been performed by the Greeks--that they have gained more than one
naval victory, and that their defeat in Wallachia was signalized by
circumstances of heroism more glorious even than victory.
The apathy of the rulers of the civilised world to the astonishing
circumstance of the descendants of that nation to which they owe their
civilisation, rising as it were from the ashes of their ruin, is
something perfectly inexplicable to a mere spectator of the shows of
this mortal scene. We are all Greeks. Our laws, our literature, our
religion, our arts have their root in Greece. But for Greece--Rome,
the instructor, the conqueror, or the metropolis of our ancestors,
would have spread no illumination with her arms, and we might still
have been savages and idolaters; or, what is worse, might have arrived
at such a stagnant and miserable state of social institution as China
and Japan possess.
The human form and the human mind attained to a perfection in Greece
which has impressed its image on those faultless productions, whose
very fragments are the despair of modern art, and has propagated
impulses which cannot cease, through a thousand channels of manifest
or imperceptible operation, to ennoble and delight mankind until the
extinction of the race.
The modern Greek is the descendant of those glorious beings whom the
imagination almost refuses to figure to itself as belonging to our
kind, and he inherits much of their sensibility, their rapidity of
conception, their enthusiasm, and their courage. If in many instances
he is degraded by moral and political slavery to the practice of the
basest vices it engenders--and that below the level of ordinary
degradation--let us reflect that the corruption of the best produces
the worst, and that habits which subsist only in relation to a
peculiar state of social institution may be expected to cease as soon
as that relation is dissolved.
Edward Williams is in the Rowfant Library. Ollier availed himself of
Shelley's permission to cancel certain passages in the notes; he also
struck out certain lines of the text. These omissions were, some of
them, restored in Galignani's one-volume edition of "Coleridge,
Shelley and Keats", Paris, 1829, and also by Mrs. Shelley in the
"Poetical Works", 1839. A passage in the "Preface", suppressed by
Ollier, was restored by Mr. Buxton Forman (1892) from a proof copy of
"Hellas" in his possession. The "Prologue to Hellas" was edited by Dr.
Garnett in 1862 ("Relics of Shelley") from the manuscripts at Boscombe
Manor.
Our text is that of the editio princeps, 1822, corrected by a list of
"Errata" sent by Shelley to Ollier, April 11, 1822. The Editor's Notes
at the end of Volume 3 should be consulted. ]
TO HIS EXCELLENCY
PRINCE ALEXANDER MAVROCORDATO
LATE SECRETARY FOR FOREIGN AFFAIRS TO THE HOSPODAR OF WALLACHIA
THE DRAMA OF HELLAS IS INSCRIBED AS AN
IMPERFECT TOKEN OF THE ADMIRATION,
SYMPATHY, AND FRIENDSHIP OF
THE AUTHOR.
Pisa, November 1, 1821.
PREFACE.
The poem of "Hellas", written at the suggestion of the events of the
moment, is a mere improvise, and derives its interest (should it be
found to possess any) solely from the intense sympathy which the
Author feels with the cause he would celebrate.
The subject, in its present state, is insusceptible of being treated
otherwise than lyrically, and if I have called this poem a drama from
the circumstance of its being composed in dialogue, the licence is not
greater than that which has been assumed by other poets who have
called their productions epics, only because they have been divided
into twelve or twenty-four books.
The "Persae" of Aeschylus afforded me the first model of my
conception, although the decision of the glorious contest now waging
in Greece being yet suspended forbids a catastrophe parallel to the
return of Xerxes and the desolation of the Persians. I have,
therefore, contented myself with exhibiting a series of lyric
pictures, and with having wrought upon the curtain of futurity, which
falls upon the unfinished scene, such figures of indistinct and
visionary delineation as suggest the final triumph of the Greek cause
as a portion of the cause of civilisation and social improvement.
The drama (if drama it must be called) is, however, so inartificial
that I doubt whether, if recited on the Thespian waggon to an Athenian
village at the Dionysiaca, it would have obtained the prize of the
goat. I shall bear with equanimity any punishment, greater than the
loss of such a reward, which the Aristarchi of the hour may think fit
to inflict.
The only "goat-song" which I have yet attempted has, I confess, in
spite of the unfavourable nature of the subject, received a greater
and a more valuable portion of applause than I expected or than it
deserved.
Common fame is the only authority which I can allege for the details
which form the basis of the poem, and I must trespass upon the
forgiveness of my readers for the display of newspaper erudition to
which I have been reduced. Undoubtedly, until the conclusion of the
war, it will be impossible to obtain an account of it sufficiently
authentic for historical materials; but poets have their privilege,
and it is unquestionable that actions of the most exalted courage have
been performed by the Greeks--that they have gained more than one
naval victory, and that their defeat in Wallachia was signalized by
circumstances of heroism more glorious even than victory.
The apathy of the rulers of the civilised world to the astonishing
circumstance of the descendants of that nation to which they owe their
civilisation, rising as it were from the ashes of their ruin, is
something perfectly inexplicable to a mere spectator of the shows of
this mortal scene. We are all Greeks. Our laws, our literature, our
religion, our arts have their root in Greece. But for Greece--Rome,
the instructor, the conqueror, or the metropolis of our ancestors,
would have spread no illumination with her arms, and we might still
have been savages and idolaters; or, what is worse, might have arrived
at such a stagnant and miserable state of social institution as China
and Japan possess.
The human form and the human mind attained to a perfection in Greece
which has impressed its image on those faultless productions, whose
very fragments are the despair of modern art, and has propagated
impulses which cannot cease, through a thousand channels of manifest
or imperceptible operation, to ennoble and delight mankind until the
extinction of the race.
The modern Greek is the descendant of those glorious beings whom the
imagination almost refuses to figure to itself as belonging to our
kind, and he inherits much of their sensibility, their rapidity of
conception, their enthusiasm, and their courage. If in many instances
he is degraded by moral and political slavery to the practice of the
basest vices it engenders--and that below the level of ordinary
degradation--let us reflect that the corruption of the best produces
the worst, and that habits which subsist only in relation to a
peculiar state of social institution may be expected to cease as soon
as that relation is dissolved.
