Hazlitt found relief for his feelings by threatening Blackwood’s with a lawsuit. Yet in July, 1824, appeared an elaborate comparison of Hunt and Hazlitt in Blackwood’s choicest manner and in March, 1825, a review of the Spirit of the Age. After 1828 the defamatory articles ceased entirely. In 1867 appeared what might be construed into an attempt at reparation by Bulwer-Lytton. Hazlitt was still spoken of as the most aggressive of the Cockneys, discourteous and unscrupulous, a bitter politician who would substitute universal submission to Napoleon for established monarchial institutions; but he is credited with strong powers of reason, of judicial criticism and of metaphysical speculation, and with perception of sentiment, truth and beauty.
CHAPTER VI
Conclusion
It is curious that, in the lives of three such geniuses as Shelley, Byron and Keats a man of lesser gifts and of weaker fibre should have played so large a part as did Leigh Hunt. It is more curious in view of the fact that the period of intimate association in each case extended over only a few years. The explanation must be sought in the accident of the age and in the personality of the man himself. It was an era of stirring action and of strong feeling. Men were clamoring for freedom from the trammels of the past and were pressing forward to the new day. Through the union of some of the qualities of the pioneer and of the prophet, Leigh Hunt was thrust into a position of prominence that he might not have gained at any other time, for he lacked the vital requisites of true leadership.
His personal quality was as rare as his opportunity. He had a personal ascendancy, a strange fascination born of the sympathy and chivalry, the sweetness and joyousness of his nature. An exotic warmth and glow worked its spell upon those about him. Barry Cornwall said that he was a “compact of all the spring winds that blew.” His lovableness and very “genius for friendship” bound intimately to him those who were thus attracted. There was, besides, an elusiveness and an ethereality about him—as Carlyle expressed it—“a fine tricksy medium between the poet and the wit, half a sylph and half an Ariel ... a fairy fluctuating bark.” The “vinous quality” of his mind, Hazlitt said, intoxicated those who came in contact with him.
In the case of Shelley it was Hunt the man, rather than the writer, that held him. Charm was the magnet in a friendship that, in its perfection and deep intimacy, deserves to be ranked with the fabled ones of old—a love passing the love of woman. There is no single cloud of distrust or disloyalty in the whole story of their relations.
Second to the personal tie may be ranked Hunt’s influence on Shelley’s politics, greater in this instance than in the case of Byron or Keats. Hunt’s attitude was an important factor in forming Shelley’s political creed. With Godwin, he drew Shelley’s attention from the creation of imaginary universes to the less speculative issues of earth. Indeed, Shelley’s main reliance for a knowledge of political happenings during many years, and practically his only one for the last four years of his life, was The Examiner. He was guided and moderated by it in his general attitude. In the specific instances already cited, the stimulus for poems or the information for prose tracts and articles can be directly traced to Hunt.
In regard to literary art Hunt did not affect Shelley beyond pointing the way to a freer use of the heroic couplet, and in a limited degree, in four or five of his minor poems, influencing him in the use of a familiar diction. Only in his letters does Shelley show any inclination to emphasize “social enjoyments” or suburban delights. That the literary influence was so slight is not surprising when Shelley’s powers of speculation and accurate scholarship are compared with Hunt’s want of concentration and shallow attainments. Notwithstanding this intellectual gulf, strong convictions, with a moral courage sufficient to support them, and a congeniality of tastes and temperament, made possible an ideal comradeship.