be, the poet argues, since it abides
in sense as well as spirit), there is no place for the corrupt will. If
men are free, they are expressing their real natures; they are
beautiful.

Is this our poet's view? But hear Plato: "The tragic poets, being wise
men, will forgive us, and any others who live after our manner, if we do
not receive them into our state, because they are the eulogists of
tyranny." [Footnote: _Republic._] Few enemies of poets nowadays
would go so far as to make a charge like this one, though Thomas
Peacock, who locked horns with Shelley on the question of poetry,
asserted that poets exist only by virtue of their flattery of earth's
potentates. [Footnote: See _The Four Ages of Poetry._] Once, it must
be confessed, one of the poets themselves brought their name into
disrepute. In the heat of his indignation over attacks made upon his
friend Southey, Landor was moved to exclaim,

If thou hast ever done amiss
It was, O Southey, but in this,
That, to redeem the lost estate
Of the poor Muse, a man so great
Abased his laurels where some Georges stood
Knee-deep in sludge and ordure, some in blood.
Was ever genius but thyself
Friend or befriended of a Guelf?

But these are insignificant exceptions to the general characterization
of the modern poet as liberty-lover.

Probably Plato's equanimity would not be upset, even though we presented
to him an overwhelming array of evidence bearing upon the modern poet's
allegiance to democracy. Certainly, he might say, the modern poet, like
the ancient one, reflects the life about him. At the time of the French
revolution, or of the world war, when there is a popular outcry against
oppression, what is more likely than that the poet's voice should be the
loudest in the throng? But as soon as there is a reaction toward
monarchical government, poets will again scramble for the post of
poet-laureate.

The modern poet can only repeat that this is false, and that a resume of
history proves it. Shelley traces the rise and decadence of poetry
during periods of freedom and slavery. He points out, "The period in our
history of the grossest degradation of the drama is the reign of Charles
II, when all the forms in which poetry had been accustomed to be
expressed became hymns to the triumph of kingly power over liberty and
virtue." Gray, in _The Progress of Poesy_, draws the same
conclusion as Shelley:

Her track, where'er the goddess roves,
Glory pu