To understand in any degree the modern outlook on life it seems
necessary to go back to the time of the French Revolution. For at that
stirring epoch there flamed up in the minds of enthusiasts an ideal of
man's life larger than had ever yet been known, and one that has
dominated us all ever since. If we give, as I think we should give, a
wide sense to the word 'Liberty' and make it mean all that stands for
self-development, then one may say that this ideal was fairly well
summed-up in the famous Revolutionary watchword, 'Liberty, Equality,
Fraternity'. It is impossible at any rate to read the idealists of that
time and its sequel--say from 1793 to 1848--whether in France, Germany,
England, or Italy, whether inside or outside the Revolutionary ranks,
without feeling their buoyant hope that a fresh era was opening in which
man, casting aside old shackles and prejudices, could advance at once
towards knowledge, joy, splendour, both for himself and all his fellows.
Shelley, perhaps, is most typical of what I mean. Hogg laughed at him
for his belief in the 'perfectibility' of the race, but Hogg knew the
belief was vital to the poet. To Shelley it was a damnable doctrine that
the many should ever be sacrificed to the few: yet neither was the
ultimate vision that inspired him the vision of the few being sacrificed
for the many. He was anything but an ascetic seeking martyrdom. The
martyrdom of his Prometheus is a prelude to the Unbinding when
happiness shall flood the world:--
'The joy, the triumph, the delight, the madness!
The boundless, overflowing, bursting gladness,
The vaporous exultation not to be confined!'
And not only happiness and love, but knowledge also: the Earth calls to
the Sky: 'Heaven, hast thou secrets? Man unveils me; I have none.'
Soberer spirits shared this poet's ecstasy. Wordsworth sang
'Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive,
But to be young was very heaven.'
And that heaven was exactly this foretaste of the Spirit of Man entering
undisturbed into his full inheritance at last: Science welcomed as a
dear and honoured guest, Poetry known as 'the breath and finer spirit
that is in the countenance of all knowledge'.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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