The foregoing discussion of Shelley’s psychology, and especially of what
was abnormal in it, would hardly be complete without some reference to
the possibility of his having possessed what may be termed higher
psychic powers. The whole subject is, of course, difficult, and this is
not the place to embark on a long analysis of the general evidence for
the existence of super-normal faculties. But, in view of the
considerable researches that have been of late undertaken in this field,
and of the general results that have been achieved, some mention of this
aspect of Shelley’s genius is not inappropriate. We have noted in his
private life the recurrence of certain ideas of persecution and of
certain hallucinations. These things, like all other mental
aberrations, require, as their necessary condition, some degree of
dissociation of the various components of the mind. Just as the growth
of a tumour indicates a certain autonomy of one portion of the body, so
such phenomena as hallucination, double-personality, mediumistic
trances, hysteria, and obsessions, indicate the autonomy of certain
constituents of the mind or personality. But this capacity for
decentralisation is not merely pathological in its effects; the same
partial suspension of the control normally exercised by the conscious
mind may liberate either the repressed impulses of the hysterical
patient or the latent divinations and intuitions which mark the genius
or the mystic.
The practical difference between the genius and the humble artist is
that the former reaches heights of truth and beauty unattainable by the
latter; heights which seem to require, for their attainment, the
operation of obscure and even occult faculties. Inspiration, divination,
direct intuitive perception of the nature both of things and of
men--these, when they are clarified and crystallised by a competent
artist, constitute genius. But these are the operations of psychic
powers such as reach their fullest development in the state of ecstasy
described by the mystics or in the phenomena of mediumship which, in all
ages, have given rise to the popular belief in spirits. It is difficult
for completely sane and normal men to realise that the familiar
faculties and senses are, in reality, but stereotyped and canalised
outlets for the living personality; that they may hinder the free
expression of the latter, even while they help it along their own lines.
Yet the inner person, or spirit, though it may have created sense-organs
to facilitate its perceptions, can, as the observations of psychiatrists
fully attest, yet perceive without their aid, and may even require, for
its subtlest operations, a temporary suspension of their functions.
“If the doors of perception were cleansed, everything would appear to
man as it is--infinite.
“[Typo for quotes?]For man has closed himself up till he sees all things
through narrow chinks of his cavern.”
These lines of Blake’s express the same thought, which, indeed, is one
common to all the mystics. The vital power which perceives through “this
life’s five windows of the soul,” can also transcend the limitations
which they impose on it; but, to so transcend the senses, it must
usually obliterate them for the time being; and with them go most of the
ordinary conscious factors of personality.
So with Shelley we find, not merely the pathological results of mental
dissociation, nor even only the signs of genius--swift and subtle
intuitions scattered through his works--but also, at times, we see
indications of powers which, for want of a better term, may be called
occult.[23] His poems give indications, stronger than mere hints, that
he constantly verged on a state of ecstasy. His frequent reference to
the ideas of infinity, eternity, and the like; his use of epithets
implying the absence of some defining and limiting attribute; his
reiterated employment of such words as chasm and abysm; and his direct
references to states of ecstatic rapture, mental vertigo, sudden
sinkings, faintings and swoons, all show that he lived on the edge of
that state of ecstasy in which the limits of normal personality are
passed and a region of more extended consciousness is reached. He felt
“the awful shadow of some unseen Power,” not as an abstract
philosophical idea, but as a real presence.
Sudden, thy shadow fell on me;
I shrieked, and clasped my hands in ecstasy.
I do not think that anyone who has studied the writings of some of the
greater mystics will fail to see much that is similar in Shelley’s
poetry; although, on the other hand, it is not likely that Shelley ever
attained the full state of complete ecstasy.
In comparing the lives and records of different mystics we find,
according to Dr. Bucke,[24] a certain substratum of common features,
which seem to be essential characteristics of the mystical disposition.
Before reaching the state of cosmic consciousness, the subject must be
of an earnest, truth-seeking nature; he must perceive the evils of this
life, and suffer acutely in spirit; he must be moved by compassion for
the fate of mankind, and by an ardent yearning after a more spiritual
existence. Usually more passionate than the average man, he yet has to
renounce much of the so-called pleasures of the world, and, in solitude,
to wring from his own heart the meaning and purpose of life.
There is so much in Shelley’s poetry which shows him in these typical
preliminary stages which precede illumination, that I will only refer to
the _Ode to the West Wind_--a poem in which the intensity of passion,
the despair with this life, and the overwhelming yearning for
identification with nature, which are typical of the mystic, find such
poignant expression.