not believe Shelley would have admitted as blemishes one fiftieth of the small inconsistencies of detail which his editors have been at so much pains to remove. It is perfectly true that, as Professor Baynes says, the longer poems rarely display "perfect evenness of verbal and metrical finish," Shelley's ideal of perfection being in fact something much higher than that, so much so that we might as soon expect perfect evenness of utterance from his own inspirers the West Wind and the Skylark as from Shelley, whose highest technical feat was the production of works of art perfectly artless in aspect, and having the air rather of growth than of elaboration. "His finest passages," continues Professor Baynes, "have a witchery of aërial music, an exquisiteness of ideal beauty, and a white intensity of spiritual passion... But the very qualities of mind and heart out of which these perfections spring carry with them the conditions of relative imperfection in the minor details of his work. The lyrical depth and impetuosity of feeling which carries Shelley on, and gives such freedom and grace to the poetical movement of his kindled thought, is unfavourable to perfect smoothness and accuracy in the mechanical details of his verse. He was often, in fact, too completely absorbed in the glorious substance of his poetry to give any minute attention to subordinate points of form. Thus, although from native fineness of ear his lines are never unrhythmical, the rhyme is often defective, and sometimes the metre as well. And while his thought, even in its most subtle refinements, is always lucid, the expres

sion, from haste or extreme condensation, is sometimes far from being clear." I have freely quoted these remarks because they are admirable in themselves and appropriate to the subject in hand, and also because I think they enforce by implication the principles of editing which I have desired to follow. The lesson that we have to learn is that it was inherent in the very nature of Shelley's mind that certain unevennesses, inconsistencies, and divergences of practice should find place in his work, and that, instead of suspecting corruption where these occur, we should feel satisfied of incorruption, and do all in our power to preserve the fruit of his spirit intact,—not try to make it like the fruit of some other and lesser spirit.

In regard to Mrs. Shelley's editions of her immortal husband's works, there is nothing to be said derogatory to the admiration and gratitude which we all owe her. It is not surprising that, in the proximity of so radiant a source of light, she should have seen no need for studying minutely the details of a series of texts, faulty from several causes, and irregular to some extent owing to changes of method on the part of the author. In her lifetime the period had not arrived for the study of characteristic irregularities and changes in minute matters connected with Shelley's works; and she had quite enough to do in searching out new poems

and passages of poems from among the mass of confused and

undigested manuscripts which he left. On the text itself she probably worked pretty hard: but the measure of original genius with which she was herself endowed, though marking

her out for independent admiration, was rather a disqualification than otherwise for the editing of texts. Still, she must, through her intimate acquaintance with the mind and heart of Shelley, have been enabled to preserve and supply much of the spirit of his works that no one else could have seized in a situation similar to that in which she worked; and it is also fair to assume that some of the more important variations between the original and posthumous editions of his poems. rest on something more than the intuition of his widow,that she had, in some instances, manuscript authority for modifying passages in his poetry. That she also modified without such authority, there is no reasonable doubt; so that a re-editor has, necessarily, to use his own judgment, and whatever means are at his command, to discriminate between the authoritative and unauthoritative variations of Mrs. Shelley's editions from the originals. Having come to the definite conclusion that the changes in orthography and punctuation shewn by the posthumous editions are as a rule unauthoritative, I have not generally deemed it necessary to discuss or even note them; but I have carefully collated every page of the originals with the two collected editions of 1839, and sometimes with later editions, and have not failed to note all variations of importance to the sense, of course adopting them when they seem to be decided improvements, and seemingly authoritative. I have also noted in many instances variations which seem to me destructive or subversive of the sense, and which I do not think can possibly have any authority; and this has been done because, in an edition

like the present, which aims at putting together all possible material for study of the text, it is important to have the evidence on both sides as to the value of Mrs. Shelley's text merely as a text, and independently of extrinsic considerations. The extrinsic considerations are in this case so very important that Mrs. Shelley's editions will never be superseded, however fully they may be supplemented by editions brought out under different auspices, and which must in the nature of things be heavily indebted to hers. One thing we must bear clearly in mind, beside the fact that Mrs. Shelley's edition is the only authority for much of the text of the posthumous works, namely that it is impossible to say how much of revision may have been floating in her mind from old experience of her husband's personal utterances,— what he may have noted in copies of his poems belonging to her, or what he may have said to her about general or special imperfections to be amended. And this consideration should make us careful in rejecting important changes made in her editions. I will not say that the two editions of 1839 must hold quite the same position in Shelley literature as Heming and Condell's folio of 1623 holds and will ever hold in Shakespeare literature, because, for the bulk of Shelley's works, the earlier editions are certainly more authoritative than the later; but I do say that there is an analogy between the editions of 1839 and the folio of 1623,-which analogy will remain as long as the study of English literature lasts.

That Mrs. Shelley did not think in 1839 that she could

ever thenceforth add "a word or line" to the poetical works of her husband reflects nothing but honour upon the loving industry bestowed by her upon a mass of materials of great intricacy; and that, as late as 1862, Mr. Garnett should have discovered additions sufficient to form, with related documents, a volume of the highest interest, indicates a great advance in the price at which Shelley is held by a later generation of students. That much material was still forthcoming when Mr. Rossetti gave us the result of his labours in 1870 was fortunate for all concerned, equally so that Miss Blind in the same year, through the further research and courtesy of Mr. Garnett, was enabled to supply omissions, make authoritative emendations, and controvert erroneous changes, as she did in The Westminster Review for July, 1870; and that, in 1876, another editor should be enabled to add, in Mrs. Shelley's literal phrase, "a word or line" in more than one instance where one was sorely wanted, and from sources that were certainly open to her, is less easy to explain than the discovery of some few complete small poems that may well have escaped her notice, though they would certainly have been available for her use had they happened to lie at the surface.

The constant references to the edition of Mr. Rossetti, which I have been obliged to make in the foot-notes, arise mainly from the different opinions which he and I entertain of the duties of an editor; and while regretting the controversial character of so many of these notes, I conceive that the great services of Mr. Rossetti in elucidating various