A man, to be greatly good, must imagine intensely and

"A man, to be greatly good, must imagine intensely and comprehensively; he must put himself in the place of another and of many others; the pains and pleasures of his species must become his own." Thus spoke Percy Bysshe Shelley, the poet-prophet of compassion and vision, whose words shine like a flame in the long night of human selfishness. In this saying, he unveils the secret of true goodness—that it does not arise merely from obedience, law, or piety, but from the divine power of imagination. To be greatly good, Shelley declares, one must feel beyond oneself, to live in the hearts of others, to suffer their sorrows, to rejoice in their joys, and to see the world not as a single being, but as the living web of all humanity.

The origin of this wisdom lies deep within Shelley’s philosophy of moral imagination. A Romantic poet and revolutionary spirit, he believed that imagination was not only the source of poetry, but the root of empathy—the bridge between souls. For Shelley, the imagination was the highest faculty of mankind, the sacred mirror through which one could perceive the unity of all living things. In his essay A Defence of Poetry, he wrote that poets are “the unacknowledged legislators of the world,” because they awaken the imagination of others and teach the heart to feel what reason alone cannot. Thus, in this quote, Shelley gives us more than an ethical principle—he gives us a spiritual law: that compassion is born not from duty, but from the imaginative power to inhabit another’s life.

To imagine intensely and comprehensively is to move beyond the narrow walls of self. It is to dissolve the boundaries that separate “I” from “you,” “mine” from “yours.” The shallow man judges, commands, and condemns from afar, but the great man enters the soul of another and sees the world through their eyes. Such imagination transforms sympathy into understanding, and understanding into love. When one can feel the hunger of the poor as his own, the grief of the widow as his own, the hope of the child as his own—then, and only then, can he act with true goodness. For moral greatness is not the absence of wrongdoing, but the presence of deep empathy.

Consider the life of Mahatma Gandhi, whose vision of nonviolence was born from this very principle. Gandhi did not fight oppression with hatred; he imagined himself into the suffering of both the oppressed and the oppressor. He felt the pain of the colonized Indian laborer and the fear of the British soldier alike. His greatness was not in power, but in imaginative compassion—his ability to see humanity even in his enemy. By doing so, he transformed political struggle into moral awakening. Through his example, we see Shelley’s truth made flesh: that only he who can bear the burdens of many can become the savior of any.

Shelley’s words also remind us of the interdependence of all beings. The one who isolates himself in pride or indifference cuts himself off from the source of his own humanity. To live without imagination is to live in blindness, unable to perceive the threads that bind us each to the other. When Shelley says that the “pains and pleasures of his species must become his own,” he is describing the path to enlightenment—the awakening of the heart that recognizes the joy of another as its own joy, and the suffering of another as its own wound. In this, he speaks the same truth as the Buddha, who taught that compassion is the highest wisdom, and as Christ, who bore the sins of the world as if they were His own.

But Shelley’s message is not gentle idealism—it is a call to action. To imagine the suffering of others and yet do nothing is to betray the imagination itself. True empathy demands response. The artist who paints injustice, the healer who soothes pain, the teacher who awakens the mind—all act from the same divine impulse: to make the inward act of imagination manifest in the outward act of goodness. For to feel without doing is sentiment; to feel and act is virtue. Every man and woman who wishes to be “greatly good” must therefore cultivate imagination not as fantasy, but as moral practice—a daily act of placing oneself in the heart of the world.

So, my children of thought and compassion, take this teaching as a sacred inheritance: imagine deeply, and you will live rightly. When you meet another, whether friend or foe, stranger or kin, pause and see the world through their eyes. Let their pain touch you; let their joy uplift you. Do not guard your heart behind the walls of judgment, for the fortress of self is a tomb. The one who truly lives, lives through many hearts. To imagine, as Shelley teaches, is to love, and to love is to act in the service of the greater good.

For in the end, remember this: “A man, to be greatly good, must imagine intensely and comprehensively.” The world will not be saved by intellect or by law alone, but by imagination—the divine power to see oneself in all beings and to make their welfare one’s own. Cultivate this power, and you will not only understand goodness—you will become it. In your imagination lies your humanity, and in your humanity, the light that heals the world.