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diff --git a/6081-h/6081-h.htm b/6081-h/6081-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..584317e --- /dev/null +++ b/6081-h/6081-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,17268 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title> + Biographia Literaria | Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + p {text-indent: 0em; margin-top: 1em;} + .pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 30%;} + .big {font-size: 1.3em;} + .xbig {font-size: 2em;} +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} +table.autotable { border-collapse: collapse; } +table.autotable td, +table.autotable th { padding: 0.25em; } +.center {text-align: center;} + +.tdr {text-align: right;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Biographia Literaria, by Samuel Taylor Coleridge</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online +at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you +are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the +country where you are located before using this eBook. +</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Biographia Literaria</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Samuel Taylor Coleridge</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: July, 2004 [EBook #6081]<br> +[Most recently updated: October 14, 2023]</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Tapio Riikonen and David Widger</div> +<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BIOGRAPHIA LITERARIA ***</div> + + + + <div style="height: 8em;"> + <br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h1> + BIOGRAPHIA LITERARIA + </h1> + <p> + <br> + </p> + <p class="center big"> + By Samuel Taylor Coleridge + </p> + <p> + <br> <br> + </p> + <hr> + <p> + <br> <br> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <span class="big"><b>CONTENTS</b></span> + </p> + <p> + <br> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_LIST"> DETAILED CONTENTS </a> + </p> + <p> + <br> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> <span class="big"><b>BIOGRAPHIA LITERARIA</b></span> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0025"> SATYRANE’S LETTERS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_CONC"> CONCLUSION </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_FOOT"> FOOTNOTES </a> + </p> + <p> + <br> <br> + </p> + <hr> + <p> + <br> <br> <a name="link2H_LIST" id="link2H_LIST"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + LIST OF CONTENTS + </h2> +<table class="autotable"> +<tr><th>CHAP.</th><th></th></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"> + I </td> + <td>Motives to the present work—Reception of the Author’s first + publication—Discipline of his taste at school—Effect of + contemporary writers on youthful minds—Bowles’s Sonnets— + Comparison between the poets before and since Pope</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"> + II </td> + <td>Supposed irritability of genius brought to the test of + facts—Causes and occasions of the charge—Its injustice</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"> + III </td> + <td>The Author’s obligations to Critics, and the probable + occasion—Principles of modern criticism—Mr. Southey’s + works and character</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"> + IV </td> + <td>The Lyrical Ballads with the Preface—Mr. Wordsworth’s + earlier poems—On Fancy and Imagination—The investigation + of the distinction important to the Fine Arts</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"> + V </td> + <td>On the law of Association—Its history traced from Aristotle + to Hartley</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"> + VI </td> + <td>That Hartley’s system, as far as it differs from that of + Aristotle, is neither tenable in theory, nor founded + in facts</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"> + VII </td> + <td>Of the necessary consequences of the Hartleian Theory—Of + the original mistake or equivocation which procured its + admission—Memoria technica</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"> + VIII </td> + <td>The system of Dualism introduced by Des Cartes—Refined + first by Spinoza and afterwards by Leibnitz into the + doctrine of Harmonia praestabilita—Hylozoism—Materialism + —None of these systems, or any possible theory of + Association, supplies or supersedes a theory of + Perception, or explains the formation of the Associable</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"> + XI </td> + <td>Is Philosophy possible as a science, and what are its + conditions?—Giordano Bruno—Literary Aristocracy, or the + existence of a tacit compact among the learned as a + privileged order—The Author’s obligations to the Mystics- + To Immanuel Kant—The difference between the letter and + The spirit of Kant’s writings, and a vindication of + Prudence in the teaching of Philosophy—Fichte’s attempt + to complete the Critical system-Its partial success and + ultimate failure—Obligations to Schelling; and among + English writers to Saumarez</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"> + X </td> + <td>A Chapter of digression and anecdotes, as an interlude + preceding that on the nature and genesis of the Imagination + or Plastic Power—On Pedantry and pedantic expressions— + Advice to young authors respecting publication—Various + anecdotes of the Author’s literary life, and the progress + of his opinions in Religion and Politics</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"> + XI </td> + <td>An affectionate exhortation to those who in early life feel + themselves disposed to become authors</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"> + XII </td> + <td>A Chapter of requests and premonitions concerning the perusal + or omission of the chapter that follows</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"> + XIII </td> + <td>On the Imagination, or Esemplastic power</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"> + XIV </td> + <td>Occasion of the Lyrical Ballads, and the objects originally + proposed—Preface to the second edition—The ensuing + controversy, its causes and acrimony—Philosophic + definitions of a Poem and Poetry with scholia</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"> + XV </td> + <td>The specific symptoms of poetic power elucidated in a + Critical analysis of Shakespeare’s Venus and Adonis, and + Rape of Lucrece</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"> + XVI </td> + <td>Striking points of difference between the Poets of the + present age and those of the fifteenth and sixteenth + centuries—Wish expressed for the union of the + characteristic merits of both</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"> + XVII </td> + <td>Examination of the tenets peculiar to Mr. Wordsworth— + Rustic life (above all, low and rustic life) especially + unfavourable to the formation of a human diction-The + best parts of language the product of philosophers, not of + clowns or shepherds—Poetry essentially ideal and generic— + The language of Milton as much the language of real life, + yea, incomparably more so than that of the cottager</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"> + XVIII </td> + <td>Language of metrical composition, why and wherein essentially + different from that of prose—Origin and elements of metre + —Its necessary consequences, and the conditions thereby + imposed on the metrical writer in the choice of his diction</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"> + XIX </td> + <td>Continuation—Concerning the real object, which, it is + probable, Mr. Wordsworth had before him in his critical + preface—Elucidation and application of this</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"> + XX </td> + <td>The former subject continued—The neutral style, or that + common to Prose and Poetry, exemplified by specimens from + Chaucer, Herbert, and others</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"> + XXI </td> + <td>Remarks on the present mode of conducting critical journals</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"> + XXII </td> + <td>The characteristic defects of Wordsworth’s poetry, with the + principles from which the judgment, that they are defects, + is deduced—Their proportion to the beauties—For the + greatest part characteristic of his theory only</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"> + </td> + <td>SATYRANE’S LETTERS</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"> + XXIII </td> + <td>Critique on Bertram</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr"> + XXIV </td> + <td>Conclusion</td></tr> +</table> + <p> + <br> <br> + </p> + <hr> + <p> + <br> <br> + </p> + <p> + So wenig er auch bestimmt seyn mag, andere zu belehren, so wuenscht er + doch sich denen mitzutheilen, die er sich gleichgesinnt weis, (oder + hofft,) deren Anzahl aber in der Breite der Welt zerstreut ist; er + wuenscht sein Verhaeltniss zu den aeltesten Freunden dadurch wieder + anzuknuepfen, mit neuen es fortzusetzen, und in der letzten Generation + sich wieder andere fur seine uebrige Lebenszeit zu gewinnen. Er wuenscht + der Jugend die Umwege zu ersparen, auf denen er sich selbst verirrte. + (Goethe. Einleitung in die Propylaeen.) + </p> + <p> + TRANSLATION. Little call as he may have to instruct others, he wishes + nevertheless to open out his heart to such as he either knows or hopes to + be of like mind with himself, but who are widely scattered in the world: + he wishes to knit anew his connections with his oldest friends, to + continue those recently formed, and to win other friends among the rising + generation for the remaining course of his life. He wishes to spare the + young those circuitous paths, on which he himself had lost his way. + </p> + <p> + <br> <br> + </p> + <hr> + <p> + <br> <br> <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <p class="center xbig"> + BIOGRAPHIA LITERARIA + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I + </h2> + <p> + Motives to the present work—Reception of the Author’s first + publication—Discipline of his taste at school—Effect of + contemporary writers on youthful minds—Bowles’s Sonnets—Comparison + between the poets before and since Pope. + </p> + <p> + It has been my lot to have had my name introduced both in conversation, + and in print, more frequently than I find it easy to explain, whether I + consider the fewness, unimportance, and limited circulation of my + writings, or the retirement and distance, in which I have lived, both from + the literary and political world. Most often it has been connected with + some charge which I could not acknowledge, or some principle which I had + never entertained. Nevertheless, had I had no other motive or incitement, + the reader would not have been troubled with this exculpation. What my + additional purposes were, will be seen in the following pages. It will be + found, that the least of what I have written concerns myself personally. I + have used the narration chiefly for the purpose of giving a continuity to + the work, in part for the sake of the miscellaneous reflections suggested + to me by particular events, but still more as introductory to a statement + of my principles in Politics, Religion, and Philosophy, and an application + of the rules, deduced from philosophical principles, to poetry and + criticism. But of the objects, which I proposed to myself, it was not the + least important to effect, as far as possible, a settlement of the long + continued controversy concerning the true nature of poetic diction; and at + the same time to define with the utmost impartiality the real poetic + character of the poet, by whose writings this controversy was first + kindled, and has been since fuelled and fanned. + </p> + <p> + In the spring of 1796, when I had but little passed the verge of manhood, + I published a small volume of juvenile poems. They were received with a + degree of favour, which, young as I was, I well know was bestowed on them + not so much for any positive merit, as because they were considered buds + of hope, and promises of better works to come. The critics of that day, + the most flattering, equally with the severest, concurred in objecting to + them obscurity, a general turgidness of diction, and a profusion of new + coined double epithets <a href="#linknote-1" id="linknoteref-1">[1]</a>. The first is the fault which a writer is the + least able to detect in his own compositions: and my mind was not then + sufficiently disciplined to receive the authority of others, as a + substitute for my own conviction. Satisfied that the thoughts, such as + they were, could not have been expressed otherwise, or at least more + perspicuously, I forgot to inquire, whether the thoughts themselves did + not demand a degree of attention unsuitable to the nature and objects of + poetry. This remark however applies chiefly, though not exclusively, to + the Religious Musings. The remainder of the charge I admitted to its full + extent, and not without sincere acknowledgments both to my private and + public censors for their friendly admonitions. In the after editions, I + pruned the double epithets with no sparing hand, and used my best efforts + to tame the swell and glitter both of thought and diction; though in + truth, these parasite plants of youthful poetry had insinuated themselves + into my longer poems with such intricacy of union, that I was often + obliged to omit disentangling the weed, from the fear of snapping the + flower. From that period to the date of the present work I have published + nothing, with my name, which could by any possibility have come before the + board of anonymous criticism. Even the three or four poems, printed with + the works of a friend <a href="#linknote-2" id="linknoteref-2">[2]</a>, as far as they were censured at all, were + charged with the same or similar defects, (though I am persuaded not with + equal justice),—with an excess of ornament, in addition to strained + and elaborate diction. I must be permitted to add, that, even at the early + period of my juvenile poems, I saw and admitted the superiority of an + austerer and more natural style, with an insight not less clear, than I at + present possess. My judgment was stronger than were my powers of realizing + its dictates; and the faults of my language, though indeed partly owing to + a wrong choice of subjects, and the desire of giving a poetic colouring to + abstract and metaphysical truths, in which a new world then seemed to open + upon me, did yet, in part likewise, originate in unfeigned diffidence of + my own comparative talent.—During several years of my youth and + early manhood, I reverenced those who had re-introduced the manly + simplicity of the Greek, and of our own elder poets, with such enthusiasm + as made the hope seem presumptuous of writing successfully in the same + style. Perhaps a similar process has happened to others; but my earliest + poems were marked by an ease and simplicity, which I have studied, perhaps + with inferior success, to impress on my later compositions. + </p> + <p> + At school, (Christ’s Hospital,) I enjoyed the inestimable advantage of a + very sensible, though at the same time, a very severe master, the Reverend + James Bowyer. He early moulded my taste to the preference of Demosthenes + to Cicero, of Homer and Theocritus to Virgil, and again of Virgil to Ovid. + He habituated me to compare Lucretius, (in such extracts as I then read,) + Terence, and above all the chaster poems of Catullus, not only with the + Roman poets of the, so called, silver and brazen ages; but with even those + of the Augustan aera: and on grounds of plain sense and universal logic to + see and assert the superiority of the former in the truth and nativeness + both of their thoughts and diction. At the same time that we were studying + the Greek tragic poets, he made us read Shakespeare and Milton as lessons: + and they were the lessons too, which required most time and trouble to + bring up, so as to escape his censure. I learned from him, that poetry, + even that of the loftiest and, seemingly, that of the wildest odes, had a + logic of its own, as severe as that of science; and more difficult, + because more subtle, more complex, and dependent on more, and more + fugitive causes. In the truly great poets, he would say, there is a reason + assignable, not only for every word, but for the position of every word; + and I well remember that, availing himself of the synonymes to the Homer + of Didymus, he made us attempt to show, with regard to each, why it would + not have answered the same purpose; and wherein consisted the peculiar + fitness of the word in the original text. + </p> + <p> + In our own English compositions, (at least for the last three years of our + school education,) he showed no mercy to phrase, metaphor, or image, + unsupported by a sound sense, or where the same sense might have been + conveyed with equal force and dignity in plainer words <a href="#linknote-3" id="linknoteref-3">[3]</a>. Lute, + harp, and lyre, Muse, Muses, and inspirations, Pegasus, Parnassus, and + Hippocrene were all an abomination to him. In fancy I can almost hear him + now, exclaiming “Harp? Harp? Lyre? Pen and ink, boy, you mean! Muse, boy, + Muse? Your nurse’s daughter, you mean! Pierian spring? Oh aye! the + cloister-pump, I suppose!” Nay certain introductions, similes, and + examples, were placed by name on a list of interdiction. Among the + similes, there was, I remember, that of the manchineel fruit, as suiting + equally well with too many subjects; in which however it yielded the palm + at once to the example of Alexander and Clytus, which was equally good and + apt, whatever might be the theme. Was it ambition? Alexander and Clytus!—Flattery? + Alexander and Clytus!—anger—drunkenness—pride—friendship—ingratitude—late + repentance? Still, still Alexander and Clytus! At length, the praises of + agriculture having been exemplified in the sagacious observation that, had + Alexander been holding the plough, he would not have run his friend Clytus + through with a spear, this tried, and serviceable old friend was banished + by public edict in saecula saeculorum. I have sometimes ventured to think, + that a list of this kind, or an index expurgatorius of certain well-known + and ever-returning phrases, both introductory, and transitional, including + a large assortment of modest egoisms, and flattering illeisms, and the + like, might be hung up in our Law-courts, and both Houses of Parliament, + with great advantage to the public, as an important saving of national + time, an incalculable relief to his Majesty’s ministers, but above all, as + insuring the thanks of country attornies, and their clients, who have + private bills to carry through the House. + </p> + <p> + Be this as it may, there was one custom of our master’s, which I cannot + pass over in silence, because I think it imitable and worthy of imitation. + He would often permit our exercises, under some pretext of want of time, + to accumulate, till each lad had four or five to be looked over. Then + placing the whole number abreast on his desk, he would ask the writer, why + this or that sentence might not have found as appropriate a place under + this or that other thesis: and if no satisfying answer could be returned, + and two faults of the same kind were found in one exercise, the + irrevocable verdict followed, the exercise was torn up, and another on the + same subject to be produced, in addition to the tasks of the day. The + reader will, I trust, excuse this tribute of recollection to a man, whose + severities, even now, not seldom furnish the dreams, by which the blind + fancy would fain interpret to the mind the painful sensations of + distempered sleep; but neither lessen nor dim the deep sense of my moral + and intellectual obligations. He sent us to the University excellent Latin + and Greek scholars, and tolerable Hebraists. Yet our classical knowledge + was the least of the good gifts, which we derived from his zealous and + conscientious tutorage. He is now gone to his final reward, full of years, + and full of honours, even of those honours, which were dearest to his + heart, as gratefully bestowed by that school, and still binding him to the + interests of that school, in which he had been himself educated, and to + which during his whole life he was a dedicated thing. + </p> + <p> + From causes, which this is not the place to investigate, no models of past + times, however perfect, can have the same vivid effect on the youthful + mind, as the productions of contemporary genius. The discipline, my mind + had undergone, Ne falleretur rotundo sono et versuum cursu, cincinnis, et + floribus; sed ut inspiceret quidnam subesset, quae, sedes, quod + firmamentum, quis fundus verbis; an figures essent mera ornatura et + orationis fucus; vel sanguinis e materiae ipsius corde effluentis rubor + quidam nativus et incalescentia genuina;—removed all obstacles to + the appreciation of excellence in style without diminishing my delight. + That I was thus prepared for the perusal of Mr. Bowles’s sonnets and + earlier poems, at once increased their influence, and my enthusiasm. The + great works of past ages seem to a young man things of another race, in + respect to which his faculties must remain passive and submiss, even as to + the stars and mountains. But the writings of a contemporary, perhaps not + many years older than himself, surrounded by the same circumstances, and + disciplined by the same manners, possess a reality for him, and inspire an + actual friendship as of a man for a man. His very admiration is the wind + which fans and feeds his hope. The poems themselves assume the properties + of flesh and blood. To recite, to extol, to contend for them is but the + payment of a debt due to one, who exists to receive it. + </p> + <p> + There are indeed modes of teaching which have produced, and are producing, + youths of a very different stamp; modes of teaching, in comparison with + which we have been called on to despise our great public schools, and + universities, + </p> +<p class="pre"> + <span style="margin-left: 10em;">in whose halls are hung</span><br> + Armoury of the invincible knights of old— +</p> + <p> + modes, by which children are to be metamorphosed into prodigies. And + prodigies with a vengeance have I known thus produced; prodigies of + self-conceit, shallowness, arrogance, and infidelity! Instead of storing + the memory, during the period when the memory is the predominant faculty, + with facts for the after exercise of the judgment; and instead of + awakening by the noblest models the fond and unmixed love and admiration, + which is the natural and graceful temper of early youth; these nurslings + of improved pedagogy are taught to dispute and decide; to suspect all but + their own and their lecturer’s wisdom; and to hold nothing sacred from + their contempt, but their own contemptible arrogance; boy-graduates in all + the technicals, and in all the dirty passions and impudence of anonymous + criticism. To such dispositions alone can the admonition of Pliny be + requisite, Neque enim debet operibus ejus obesse, quod vivit. An si inter + eos, quos nunquam vidimus, floruisset, non solum libros ejus, verum etiam + imagines conquireremus, ejusdem nunc honor prasentis, et gratia quasi + satietate languescet? At hoc pravum, malignumque est, non admirari hominem + admiratione dignissimum, quia videre, complecti, nec laudare tantum, verum + etiam amare contingit. + </p> + <p> + I had just entered on my seventeenth year, when the sonnets of Mr. Bowles, + twenty in number, and just then published in a quarto pamphlet, were first + made known and presented to me, by a schoolfellow who had quitted us for + the University, and who, during the whole time that he was in our first + form (or in our school language a Grecian,) had been my patron and + protector. I refer to Dr. Middleton, the truly learned, and every way + excellent Bishop of Calcutta: + </p> +<p class="pre"> + <span style="margin-left: 10%;">qui laudibus amplis</span><br> + Ingenium celebrare meum, calamumque solebat,<br> + Calcar agens animo validum. Non omnia terra<br> + Obruta; vivit amor, vivit dolor; ora negatur<br> + Dulcia conspicere; at fiere et meminisse relictum est. +</p> + <p> + It was a double pleasure to me, and still remains a tender recollection, + that I should have received from a friend so revered the first knowledge + of a poet, by whose works, year after year, I was so enthusiastically + delighted and inspired. My earliest acquaintances will not have forgotten + the undisciplined eagerness and impetuous zeal, with which I laboured to + make proselytes, not only of my companions, but of all with whom I + conversed, of whatever rank, and in whatever place. As my school finances + did not permit me to purchase copies, I made, within less than a year and + a half, more than forty transcriptions, as the best presents I could offer + to those, who had in any way won my regard. And with almost equal delight + did I receive the three or four following publications of the same author. + </p> + <p> + Though I have seen and known enough of mankind to be well aware, that I + shall perhaps stand alone in my creed, and that it will be well, if I + subject myself to no worse charge than that of singularity; I am not + therefore deterred from avowing, that I regard, and ever have regarded the + obligations of intellect among the most sacred of the claims of gratitude. + A valuable thought, or a particular train of thoughts, gives me additional + pleasure, when I can safely refer and attribute it to the conversation or + correspondence of another. My obligations to Mr. Bowles were indeed + important, and for radical good. At a very premature age, even before my + fifteenth year, I had bewildered myself in metaphysics, and in theological + controversy. Nothing else pleased me. History, and particular facts, lost + all interest in my mind. Poetry—(though for a school-boy of that + age, I was above par in English versification, and had already produced + two or three compositions which, I may venture to say, without reference + to my age, were somewhat above mediocrity, and which had gained me more + credit than the sound, good sense of my old master was at all pleased + with,)—poetry itself, yea, novels and romances, became insipid to + me. In my friendless wanderings on our leave-days <a href="#linknote-4" id="linknoteref-4">[4]</a>, (for I was an orphan, and + had scarcely any connections in London,) highly was I delighted, if any + passenger, especially if he were dressed in black, would enter into + conversation with me. For I soon found the means of directing it to my + favourite subjects + </p> +<p class="pre"> + Of providence, fore-knowledge, will, and fate,<br> + Fixed fate, free will, fore-knowledge absolute,<br> + And found no end in wandering mazes lost.<br> +</p> + <p> + This preposterous pursuit was, beyond doubt, injurious both to my natural + powers, and to the progress of my education. It would perhaps have been + destructive, had it been continued; but from this I was auspiciously + withdrawn, partly indeed by an accidental introduction to an amiable + family, chiefly however, by the genial influence of a style of poetry, so + tender and yet so manly, so natural and real, and yet so dignified and + harmonious, as the sonnets and other early poems of Mr. Bowles. Well would + it have been for me, perhaps, had I never relapsed into the same mental + disease; if I had continued to pluck the flower and reap the harvest from + the cultivated surface, instead of delving in the unwholesome quicksilver + mines of metaphysic lore. And if in after time I have sought a refuge from + bodily pain and mismanaged sensibility in abstruse researches, which + exercised the strength and subtilty of the understanding without awakening + the feelings of the heart; still there was a long and blessed interval, + during which my natural faculties were allowed to expand, and my original + tendencies to develop themselves;—my fancy, and the love of nature, + and the sense of beauty in forms and sounds. + </p> + <p> + The second advantage, which I owe to my early perusal, and admiration of + these poems, (to which let me add,) though known to me at a somewhat later + period, the Lewesdon Hill of Mr. Crowe bears more immediately on my + present subject. Among those with whom I conversed, there were, of course, + very many who had formed their taste, and their notions of poetry, from + the writings of Pope and his followers; or to speak more generally, in + that school of French poetry, condensed and invigorated by English + understanding, which had predominated from the last century. I was not + blind to the merits of this school, yet, as from inexperience of the + world, and consequent want of sympathy with the general subjects of these + poems, they gave me little pleasure, I doubtless undervalued the kind, and + with the presumption of youth withheld from its masters the legitimate + name of poets. I saw that the excellence of this kind consisted in just + and acute observations on men and manners in an artificial state of + society, as its matter and substance; and in the logic of wit, conveyed in + smooth and strong epigrammatic couplets, as its form: that even when the + subject was addressed to the fancy, or the intellect, as in the Rape of + the Lock, or the Essay on Man; nay, when it was a consecutive narration, + as in that astonishing product of matchless talent and ingenuity Pope’s + Translation of the Iliad; still a point was looked for at the end of each + second line, and the whole was, as it were, a sorites, or, if I may + exchange a logical for a grammatical metaphor, a conjunction disjunctive, + of epigrams. Meantime the matter and diction seemed to me characterized + not so much by poetic thoughts, as by thoughts translated into the + language of poetry. On this last point, I had occasion to render my own + thoughts gradually more and more plain to myself, by frequent amicable + disputes concerning Darwin’s Botanic Garden, which, for some years, was + greatly extolled, not only by the reading public in general, but even by + those, whose genius and natural robustness of understanding enabled them + afterwards to act foremost in dissipating these “painted mists” that + occasionally rise from the marshes at the foot of Parnassus. During my + first Cambridge vacation, I assisted a friend in a contribution for a + literary society in Devonshire: and in this I remember to have compared + Darwin’s work to the Russian palace of ice, glittering, cold and + transitory. In the same essay too, I assigned sundry reasons, chiefly + drawn from a comparison of passages in the Latin poets with the original + Greek, from which they were borrowed, for the preference of Collins’s odes + to those of Gray; and of the simile in Shakespeare + </p> +<p class="pre"> + How like a younker or a prodigal<br> + The scarfed bark puts from her native bay,<br> + Hugg’d and embraced by the strumpet wind!<br> + How like the prodigal doth she return,<br> + With over-weather’d ribs and ragged sails,<br> + Lean, rent, and beggar’d by the strumpet wind!<br> + <span style="margin-left: 10%;"> (Merch. of Ven. Act II. sc. 6.)</span> +</p> + <p> + to the imitation in the Bard; + </p> +<p class="pre"> + Fair laughs the morn, and soft the zephyr blows<br> + While proudly riding o’er the azure realm<br> + In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes,<br> + Youth at the prow and pleasure at the helm;<br> + Regardless of the sweeping whirlwind’s sway,<br> + That hush’d in grim repose, expects it’s evening prey.<br> +</p> + <p> + (in which, by the bye, the words “realm” and “sway” are rhymes dearly + purchased)—I preferred the original on the ground, that in the + imitation it depended wholly on the compositor’s putting, or not putting, + a small capital, both in this, and in many other passages of the same + poet, whether the words should be personifications, or mere abstractions. + I mention this, because, in referring various lines in Gray to their + original in Shakespeare and Milton, and in the clear perception how + completely all the propriety was lost in the transfer, I was, at that + early period, led to a conjecture, which, many years afterwards was + recalled to me from the same thought having been started in conversation, + but far more ably, and developed more fully, by Mr. Wordsworth;—namely, + that this style of poetry, which I have characterized above, as + translations of prose thoughts into poetic language, had been kept up by, + if it did not wholly arise from, the custom of writing Latin verses, and + the great importance attached to these exercises, in our public schools. + Whatever might have been the case in the fifteenth century, when the use + of the Latin tongue was so general among learned men, that Erasmus is said + to have forgotten his native language; yet in the present day it is not to + be supposed, that a youth can think in Latin, or that he can have any + other reliance on the force or fitness of his phrases, but the authority + of the writer from whom he has adopted them. Consequently he must first + prepare his thoughts, and then pick out, from Virgil, Horace, Ovid, or + perhaps more compendiously from his Gradus, halves and quarters of lines, + in which to embody them. + </p> + <p> + I never object to a certain degree of disputatiousness in a young man from + the age of seventeen to that of four or five and twenty, provided I find + him always arguing on one side of the question. The controversies, + occasioned by my unfeigned zeal for the honour of a favourite + contemporary, then known to me only by his works, were of great advantage + in the formation and establishment of my taste and critical opinions. In + my defence of the lines running into each other, instead of closing at + each couplet; and of natural language, neither bookish, nor vulgar, + neither redolent of the lamp, nor of the kennel, such as I will remember + thee; instead of the same thought tricked up in the rag-fair finery of, + </p> +<p class="pre"> + ———thy image on her wing<br> + Before my fancy’s eye shall memory bring,— +</p> + <p> + I had continually to adduce the metre and diction of the Greek poets, from + Homer to Theocritus inclusively; and still more of our elder English + poets, from Chaucer to Milton. Nor was this all. But as it was my constant + reply to authorities brought against me from later poets of great name, + that no authority could avail in opposition to Truth, Nature, Logic, and + the Laws of Universal Grammar; actuated too by my former passion for + metaphysical investigations; I laboured at a solid foundation, on which + permanently to ground my opinions, in the component faculties of the human + mind itself, and their comparative dignity and importance. According to + the faculty or source, from which the pleasure given by any poem or + passage was derived, I estimated the merit of such poem or passage. As the + result of all my reading and meditation, I abstracted two critical + aphorisms, deeming them to comprise the conditions and criteria of poetic + style;—first, that not the poem which we have read, but that to + which we return, with the greatest pleasure, possesses the genuine power, + and claims the name of essential poetry;—secondly, that whatever + lines can be translated into other words of the same language, without + diminution of their significance, either in sense or association, or in + any worthy feeling, are so far vicious in their diction. Be it however + observed, that I excluded from the list of worthy feelings, the pleasure + derived from mere novelty in the reader, and the desire of exciting + wonderment at his powers in the author. Oftentimes since then, in pursuing + French tragedies, I have fancied two marks of admiration at the end of + each line, as hieroglyphics of the author’s own admiration at his own + cleverness. Our genuine admiration of a great poet is a continuous + undercurrent of feeling! it is everywhere present, but seldom anywhere as + a separate excitement. I was wont boldly to affirm, that it would be + scarcely more difficult to push a stone out from the Pyramids with the + bare hand, than to alter a word, or the position of a word, in Milton or + Shakespeare, (in their most important works at least,) without making the + poet say something else, or something worse, than he does say. One great + distinction, I appeared to myself to see plainly between even the + characteristic faults of our elder poets, and the false beauty of the + moderns. In the former, from Donne to Cowley, we find the most fantastic + out-of-the-way thoughts, but in the most pure and genuine mother English, + in the latter the most obvious thoughts, in language the most fantastic + and arbitrary. Our faulty elder poets sacrificed the passion and + passionate flow of poetry to the subtleties of intellect and to the stars + of wit; the moderns to the glare and glitter of a perpetual, yet broken + and heterogeneous imagery, or rather to an amphibious something, made up, + half of image, and half of abstract <a href="#linknote-5" id="linknoteref-5">[5]</a> meaning. The one + sacrificed the heart to the head; the other both heart and head to point + and drapery. + </p> + <p> + The reader must make himself acquainted with the general style of + composition that was at that time deemed poetry, in order to understand + and account for the effect produced on me by the Sonnets, the Monody at + Matlock, and the Hope, of Mr. Bowles; for it is peculiar to original + genius to become less and less striking, in proportion to its success in + improving the taste and judgment of its contemporaries. The poems of West, + indeed, had the merit of chaste and manly diction; but they were cold, + and, if I may so express it, only dead-coloured; while in the best of + Warton’s there is a stiffness, which too often gives them the appearance + of imitations from the Greek. Whatever relation, therefore, of cause or + impulse Percy’s collection of Ballads may bear to the most popular poems + of the present day; yet in a more sustained and elevated style, of the + then living poets, Cowper and Bowles <a href="#linknote-6" id="linknoteref-6">[6]</a> were, to the best of my + knowledge, the first who combined natural thoughts with natural diction; + the first who reconciled the heart with the head. + </p> + <p> + It is true, as I have before mentioned, that from diffidence in my own + powers, I for a short time adopted a laborious and florid diction, which I + myself deemed, if not absolutely vicious, yet of very inferior worth. + Gradually, however, my practice conformed to my better judgment; and the + compositions of my twenty-fourth and twenty-fifth years—(for + example, the shorter blank verse poems, the lines, which now form the + middle and conclusion of the poem entitled the Destiny of Nations, and the + tragedy of Remorse)—are not more below my present ideal in respect + of the general tissue of the style than those of the latest date. Their + faults were at least a remnant of the former leaven, and among the many + who have done me the honour of putting my poems in the same class with + those of my betters, the one or two, who have pretended to bring examples + of affected simplicity from my volume, have been able to adduce but one + instance, and that out of a copy of verses half ludicrous, half splenetic, + which I intended, and had myself characterized, as sermoni propiora. + </p> + <p> + Every reform, however necessary, will by weak minds be carried to an + excess, which will itself need reforming. The reader will excuse me for + noticing, that I myself was the first to expose risu honesto the three + sins of poetry, one or the other of which is the most likely to beset a + young writer. So long ago as the publication of the second number of the + Monthly Magazine, under the name of Nehemiah Higginbottom, I contributed + three sonnets, the first of which had for its object to excite a + good-natured laugh at the spirit of doleful egotism, and at the recurrence + of favourite phrases, with the double defect of being at once trite and + licentious;—the second was on low creeping language and thoughts, + under the pretence of simplicity; the third, the phrases of which were + borrowed entirely from my own poems, on the indiscriminate use of + elaborate and swelling language and imagery. The reader will find them in + the note <a href="#linknote-7" id="linknoteref-7">[7]</a> + below, and will I trust regard them as reprinted for biographical purposes + alone, and not for their poetic merits. So general at that time, and so + decided was the opinion concerning the characteristic vices of my style, + that a celebrated physician (now, alas! no more) speaking of me in other + respects with his usual kindness, to a gentleman, who was about to meet me + at a dinner party, could not however resist giving him a hint not to + mention ‘The house that Jack built’ in my presence, for “that I was as + sore as a boil about that sonnet;” he not knowing that I was myself the + author of it. + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II + </h2> + <p> + Supposed irritability of men of genius brought to the test of facts—Causes + and occasions of the charge—Its injustice. + </p> + <p> + I have often thought, that it would be neither uninstructive nor unamusing + to analyze, and bring forward into distinct consciousness, that complex + feeling, with which readers in general take part against the author, in + favour of the critic; and the readiness with which they apply to all poets + the old sarcasm of Horace upon the scribblers of his time + </p> +<p class="pre"> + ———genus irritabile vatum. +</p> + <p> + A debility and dimness of the imaginative power, and a consequent + necessity of reliance on the immediate impressions of the senses, do, we + know well, render the mind liable to superstition and fanaticism. Having a + deficient portion of internal and proper warmth, minds of this class seek + in the crowd circum fana for a warmth in common, which they do not possess + singly. Cold and phlegmatic in their own nature, like damp hay, they heat + and inflame by co-acervation; or like bees they become restless and + irritable through the increased temperature of collected multitudes. Hence + the German word for fanaticism, (such at least was its original import,) + is derived from the swarming of bees, namely, schwaermen, schwaermerey. + The passion being in an inverse proportion to the insight,—that the + more vivid, as this the less distinct—anger is the inevitable + consequence. The absense of all foundation within their own minds for + that, which they yet believe both true and indispensable to their safety + and happiness, cannot but produce an uneasy state of feeling, an + involuntary sense of fear from which nature has no means of rescuing + herself but by anger. Experience informs us that the first defence of weak + minds is to recriminate. + </p> +<p class="pre"> + There’s no philosopher but sees,<br> + That rage and fear are one disease;<br> + Tho’ that may burn, and this may freeze,<br> + They’re both alike the ague. +</p> + <p> + But where the ideas are vivid, and there exists an endless power of + combining and modifying them, the feelings and affections blend more + easily and intimately with these ideal creations than with the objects of + the senses; the mind is affected by thoughts, rather than by things; and + only then feels the requisite interest even for the most important events + and accidents, when by means of meditation they have passed into thoughts. + The sanity of the mind is between superstition with fanaticism on the one + hand, and enthusiasm with indifference and a diseased slowness to action + on the other. For the conceptions of the mind may be so vivid and + adequate, as to preclude that impulse to the realizing of them, which is + strongest and most restless in those, who possess more than mere talent, + (or the faculty of appropriating and applying the knowledge of others,)—yet + still want something of the creative and self-sufficing power of absolute + genius. For this reason therefore, they are men of commanding genius. + While the former rest content between thought and reality, as it were in + an intermundium of which their own living spirit supplies the substance, + and their imagination the ever-varying form; the latter must impress their + preconceptions on the world without, in order to present them back to + their own view with the satisfying degree of clearness, distinctness, and + individuality. These in tranquil times are formed to exhibit a perfect + poem in palace, or temple, or landscape-garden; or a tale of romance in + canals that join sea with sea, or in walls of rock, which, shouldering + back the billows, imitate the power, and supply the benevolence of nature + to sheltered navies; or in aqueducts that, arching the wide vale from + mountain to mountain, give a Palmyra to the desert. But alas! in times of + tumult they are the men destined to come forth as the shaping spirit of + ruin, to destroy the wisdom of ages in order to substitute the fancies of + a day, and to change kings and kingdoms, as the wind shifts and shapes the + clouds <a href="#linknote-8" id="linknoteref-8">[8]</a>. + The records of biography seem to confirm this theory. The men of the + greatest genius, as far as we can judge from their own works or from the + accounts of their contemporaries, appear to have been of calm and tranquil + temper in all that related to themselves. In the inward assurance of + permanent fame, they seem to have been either indifferent or resigned with + regard to immediate reputation. Through all the works of Chaucer there + reigns a cheerfulness, a manly hilarity which makes it almost impossible + to doubt a correspondent habit of feeling in the author himself. + Shakespeare’s evenness and sweetness of temper were almost proverbial in + his own age. That this did not arise from ignorance of his own comparative + greatness, we have abundant proof in his Sonnets, which could scarcely + have been known to Pope <a href="#linknote-9" id="linknoteref-9">[9]</a>, when he asserted, that +our great bard-- +</p><p class="pre"> + ------grew immortal in his own despite.<br> + <span style="margin-left: 20em;">(Epist. to Augustus.)</span><br> +</p><p> +Speaking of one whom he had celebrated, and contrasting the duration of +his works with that of his personal existence, Shakespeare adds: +</p><p class="pre"> + Your name from hence immortal life shall have,<br> + Tho’ I once gone to all the world must die;<br> + The earth can yield me but a common grave,<br> + When you entombed in men’s eyes shall lie.<br> + Your monument shall be my gentle verse,<br> + Which eyes not yet created shall o’er-read;<br> + And tongues to be your being shall rehearse,<br> + When all the breathers of this world are dead:<br> + You still shall live, such virtue hath my pen,<br> + Where breath most breathes, e’en in the mouth of men.<br> + <span style="margin-left: 20em;">SONNET LXXXI.</span><br> +</p><p> +I have taken the first that occurred; but Shakespeare’s readiness to +praise his rivals, ore pleno, and the confidence of his own equality +with those whom he deemed most worthy of his praise, are alike +manifested in another Sonnet. +</p><p class="pre"> + Was it the proud full sail of his great verse,<br> + Bound for the praise of all-too-precious you,<br> + That did my ripe thoughts in my brain inhearse,<br> + Making their tomb, the womb wherein they grew?<br> + Was it his spirit, by spirits taught to write<br> + Above a mortal pitch that struck me dead?<br> + No, neither he, nor his compeers by night<br> + Giving him aid, my verse astonished.<br> + He, nor that affable familiar ghost,<br> + Which nightly gulls him with intelligence,<br> + As victors of my silence cannot boast;<br> + I was not sick of any fear from thence!<br> + But when your countenance fill’d up his line,<br> + Then lack’d I matter, that enfeebled mine.<br> + <span style="margin-left: 20em;">S. LXXXVI.</span><br> +</p><p> +In Spenser, indeed, we trace a mind constitutionally tender, delicate, +and, in comparison with his three great compeers, I had almost said, +effeminate; and this additionally saddened by the unjust persecution of +Burleigh, and the severe calamities, which overwhelmed his latter days. +These causes have diffused over all his compositions “a melancholy +grace,” and have drawn forth occasional strains, the more pathetic +from their gentleness. But no where do we find the least trace of +irritability, and still less of quarrelsome or affected contempt of his +censurers. +</p><p> +The same calmness, and even greater self-possession, may be affirmed +of Milton, as far as his poems, and poetic character are concerned. +He reserved his anger for the enemies of religion, freedom, and his +country. My mind is not capable of forming a more august conception, +than arises from the contemplation of this great man in his latter +days;--poor, sick, old, blind, slandered, persecuted,-- +</p><p class="pre"> + Darkness before, and danger’s voice behind,-- +</p><p> +in an age in which he was as little understood by the party, for whom, +as by that against whom, he had contended; and among men before whom he +strode so far as to dwarf himself by the distance; yet still listening +to the music of his own thoughts, or if additionally cheered, +yet cheered only by the prophetic faith of two or three solitary +individuals, he did nevertheless +</p><p class="pre"> + <span style="margin-left: 20em;">------argue not</span><br> + Against Heaven’s hand or will, nor bate a jot<br> + Of heart or hope; but still bore up and steer’d<br> + Right onward. +</p><p> +From others only do we derive our knowledge that Milton, in his latter +day, had his scorners and detractors; and even in his day of youth and +hope, that he had enemies would have been unknown to us, had they not +been likewise the enemies of his country. +</p><p> +I am well aware, that in advanced stages of literature, when there exist +many and excellent models, a high degree of talent, combined with taste +and judgment, and employed in works of imagination, will acquire for +a man the name of a great genius; though even that analogon of genius, +which, in certain states of society, may even render his writings more +popular than the absolute reality could have done, would be sought +for in vain in the mind and temper of the author himself. Yet even in +instances of this kind, a close examination will often detect, that the +irritability, which has been attributed to the author’s genius as its +cause, did really originate in an ill conformation of body, obtuse pain, +or constitutional defect of pleasurable sensation. What is charged to +the author, belongs to the man, who would probably have been still more +impatient, but for the humanizing influences of the very pursuit, which +yet bears the blame of his irritability. +</p><p> +How then are we to explain the easy credence generally given to this +charge, if the charge itself be not, as I have endeavoured to show, +supported by experience? This seems to me of no very difficult solution. +In whatever country literature is widely diffused, there will be many +who mistake an intense desire to possess the reputation of poetic +genius, for the actual powers, and original tendencies which constitute +it. But men, whose dearest wishes are fixed on objects wholly out of +their own power, become in all cases more or less impatient and prone to +anger. Besides, though it may be paradoxical to assert, that a man can +know one thing and believe the opposite, yet assuredly a vain person may +have so habitually indulged the wish, and persevered in the attempt, to +appear what he is not, as to become himself one of his own proselytes. +Still, as this counterfeit and artificial persuasion must differ, even +in the person’s own feelings, from a real sense of inward power, what +can be more natural, than that this difference should betray itself +in suspicious and jealous irritability? Even as the flowery sod, which +covers a hollow, may be often detected by its shaking and trembling. +</p><p> +But, alas! the multitude of books and the general diffusion of +literature, have produced other and more lamentable effects in the world +of letters, and such as are abundant to explain, though by no means to +justify, the contempt with which the best grounded complaints of injured +genius are rejected as frivolous, or entertained as matter of merriment. +In the days of Chaucer and Gower, our language might (with due allowance +for the imperfections of a simile) be compared to a wilderness of vocal +reeds, from which the favourites only of Pan or Apollo could construct +even the rude syrinx; and from this the constructors alone could elicit +strains of music. But now, partly by the labours of successive +poets, and in part by the more artificial state of society and social +intercourse, language, mechanized as it were into a barrel-organ, +supplies at once both instrument and tune. Thus even the deaf may play, +so as to delight the many. Sometimes (for it is with similes, as it +is with jests at a wine table, one is sure to suggest another) I have +attempted to illustrate the present state of our language, in its +relation to literature, by a press-room of larger and smaller stereotype +pieces, which, in the present Anglo-Gallican fashion of unconnected, +epigrammatic periods, it requires but an ordinary portion of ingenuity +to vary indefinitely, and yet still produce something, which, if not +sense, will be so like it as to do as well. Perhaps better: for it +spares the reader the trouble of thinking; prevents vacancy, while +it indulges indolence; and secures the memory from all danger of an +intellectual plethora. Hence of all trades, literature at present +demands the least talent or information; and, of all modes of +literature, the manufacturing of poems. The difference indeed between +these and the works of genius is not less than between an egg and an +egg-shell; yet at a distance they both look alike. +</p><p> +Now it is no less remarkable than true, with how little examination +works of polite literature are commonly perused, not only by the mass of +readers, but by men of first rate ability, till some accident or chance +<a href="#linknote-10" id="linknoteref-10">[10]</a> +discussion have roused their attention, and put them on their guard. And + hence individuals below mediocrity not less in natural power than in + acquired knowledge; nay, bunglers who have failed in the lowest mechanic + crafts, and whose presumption is in due proportion to their want of sense + and sensibility; men, who being first scribblers from idleness and + ignorance, next become libellers from envy and malevolence,—have + been able to drive a successful trade in the employment of the + booksellers, nay, have raised themselves into temporary name and + reputation with the public at large, by that most powerful of all + adulation, the appeal to the bad and malignant passions of mankind <a href="#linknote-11" id="linknoteref-11">[11]</a>. + But as it is the nature of scorn, envy, and all malignant propensities to + require a quick change of objects, such writers are sure, sooner or later, + to awake from their dream of vanity to disappointment and neglect with + embittered and envenomed feelings. Even during their short-lived success, + sensible in spite of themselves on what a shifting foundation it rests, + they resent the mere refusal of praise as a robbery, and at the justest + censures kindle at once into violent and undisciplined abuse; till the + acute disease changing into chronical, the more deadly as the less + violent, they become the fit instruments of literary detraction and moral + slander. They are then no longer to be questioned without exposing the + complainant to ridicule, because, forsooth, they are anonymous critics, + and authorized, in Andrew Marvell’s phrase, as “synodical individuals” to + speak of themselves plurali majestatico! As if literature formed a caste, + like that of the Paras in Hindostan, who, however maltreated, must not + dare to deem themselves wronged! As if that, which in all other cases adds + a deeper dye to slander, the circumstance of its being anonymous, here + acted only to make the slanderer inviolable! <a href="#linknote-12" id="linknoteref-12">[12]</a> Thus, in part, from the + accidental tempers of individuals—(men of undoubted talent, but not + men of genius)—tempers rendered yet more irritable by their desire + to appear men of genius; but still more effectively by the excesses of the + mere counterfeits both of talent and genius; the number too being so + incomparably greater of those who are thought to be, than of those who + really are men of genius; and in part from the natural, but not therefore + the less partial and unjust distinction, made by the public itself between + literary and all other property; I believe the prejudice to have arisen, + which considers an unusual irascibility concerning the reception of its + products as characteristic of genius. + </p> + <p> + It might correct the moral feelings of a numerous class of readers, to + suppose a Review set on foot, the object of which should be to criticise + all the chief works presented to the public by our ribbon-weavers, + calico-printers, cabinet-makers, and china-manufacturers; which should be + conducted in the same spirit, and take the same freedom with personal + character, as our literary journals. They would scarcely, I think, deny + their belief, not only that the genus irritabile would be found to include + many other species besides that of bards; but that the irritability of + trade would soon reduce the resentments of poets into mere shadow-fights + in the comparison. Or is wealth the only rational object of human + interest? Or even if this were admitted, has the poet no property in his + works? Or is it a rare, or culpable case, that he who serves at the altar + of the Muses, should be compelled to derive his maintenance from the + altar, when too he has perhaps deliberately abandoned the fairest + prospects of rank and opulence in order to devote himself, an entire and + undistracted man, to the instruction or refinement of his fellow-citizens? + Or, should we pass by all higher objects and motives, all disinterested + benevolence, and even that ambition of lasting praise which is at once the + crutch and ornament, which at once supports and betrays, the infirmity of + human virtue,—is the character and property of the man, who labours + for our intellectual pleasures, less entitled to a share of our fellow + feeling, than that of the wine-merchant or milliner? Sensibility indeed, + both quick and deep, is not only a characteristic feature, but may be + deemed a component part, of genius. But it is not less an essential mark + of true genius, that its sensibility is excited by any other cause more + powerfully than by its own personal interests; for this plain reason, that + the man of genius lives most in the ideal world, in which the present is + still constituted by the future or the past; and because his feelings have + been habitually associated with thoughts and images, to the number, + clearness, and vivacity of which the sensation of self is always in an + inverse proportion. And yet, should he perchance have occasion to repel + some false charge, or to rectify some erroneous censure, nothing is more + common than for the many to mistake the general liveliness of his manner + and language, whatever is the subject, for the effects of peculiar + irritation from its accidental relation to himself. <a href="#linknote-13" id="linknoteref-13">[13]</a> + </p> + <p> + For myself, if from my own feelings, or from the less suspicious test of + the observations of others, I had been made aware of any literary + testiness or jealousy; I trust, that I should have been, however, neither + silly nor arrogant enough to have burthened the imperfection on genius. + But an experience—(and I should not need documents in abundance to + prove my words, if I added)—a tried experience of twenty years, has + taught me, that the original sin of my character consists in a careless + indifference to public opinion, and to the attacks of those who influence + it; that praise and admiration have become yearly less and less desirable, + except as marks of sympathy; nay that it is difficult and distressing to + me to think with any interest even about the sale and profit of my works, + important as, in my present circumstances, such considerations must needs + be. Yet it never occurred to me to believe or fancy, that the quantum of + intellectual power bestowed on me by nature or education was in any way + connected with this habit of my feelings; or that it needed any other + parents or fosterers than constitutional indolence, aggravated into + languor by ill-health; the accumulating embarrassments of procrastination; + the mental cowardice, which is the inseparable companion of + procrastination, and which makes us anxious to think and converse on any + thing rather than on what concerns ourselves; in fine, all those close + vexations, whether chargeable on my faults or my fortunes, which leave me + but little grief to spare for evils comparatively distant and alien. + </p> + <p> + Indignation at literary wrongs I leave to men born under happier stars. I + cannot afford it. But so far from condemning those who can, I deem it a + writer’s duty, and think it creditable to his heart, to feel and express a + resentment proportioned to the grossness of the provocation, and the + importance of the object. There is no profession on earth, which requires + an attention so early, so long, or so unintermitting as that of poetry; + and indeed as that of literary composition in general, if it be such as at + all satisfies the demands both of taste and of sound logic. How difficult + and delicate a task even the mere mechanism of verse is, may be + conjectured from the failure of those, who have attempted poetry late in + life. Where then a man has, from his earliest youth, devoted his whole + being to an object, which by the admission of all civilized nations in all + ages is honourable as a pursuit, and glorious as an attainment; what of + all that relates to himself and his family, if only we except his moral + character, can have fairer claims to his protection, or more authorize + acts of self-defence, than the elaborate products of his intellect and + intellectual industry? Prudence itself would command us to show, even if + defect or diversion of natural sensibility had prevented us from feeling, + a due interest and qualified anxiety for the offspring and representatives + of our nobler being. I know it, alas! by woful experience. I have laid too + many eggs in the hot sands of this wilderness, the world, with ostrich + carelessness and ostrich oblivion. The greater part indeed have been trod + under foot, and are forgotten; but yet no small number have crept forth + into life, some to furnish feathers for the caps of others, and still more + to plume the shafts in the quivers of my enemies, of them that unprovoked + have lain in wait against my soul. + </p> +<p class="pre"> + Sic vos, non vobis, mellificatis, apes! +</p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III + </h2> + <p> + The Author’s obligations to critics, and the probable occasion—Principles + of modern criticism—Mr. Southey’s works and character. + </p> + <p> + To anonymous critics in reviews, magazines, and news-journals of various + name and rank, and to satirists with or without a name in verse or prose, + or in verse-text aided by prose-comment, I do seriously believe and + profess, that I owe full two-thirds of whatever reputation and publicity I + happen to possess. For when the name of an individual has occurred so + frequently, in so many works, for so great a length of time, the readers + of these works—(which with a shelf or two of beauties, elegant + Extracts and Anas, form nine-tenths of the reading of the reading Public + <a href="#linknote-14" id="linknoteref-14">[14]</a>)—cannot + but be familiar with the name, without distinctly remembering whether it + was introduced for eulogy or for censure. And this becomes the more + likely, if (as I believe) the habit of perusing periodical works may be + properly added to Averroes’ catalogue of Anti-Mnemonics, or weakeners of + the memory <a href="#linknote-15" id="linknoteref-15">[15]</a>. + But where this has not been the case, yet the reader will be apt to + suspect that there must be something more than usually strong and + extensive in a reputation, that could either require or stand so merciless + and long-continued a cannonading. Without any feeling of anger therefore—(for + which indeed, on my own account, I have no pretext)—I may yet be + allowed to express some degree of surprise, that, after having run the + critical gauntlet for a certain class of faults which I had, nothing + having come before the judgment-seat in the interim, I should, year after + year, quarter after quarter, month after month—(not to mention + sundry petty periodicals of still quicker revolution, “or weekly or + diurnal”)—have been, for at least seventeen years consecutively, + dragged forth by them into the foremost ranks of the proscribed, and + forced to abide the brunt of abuse, for faults directly opposite, and + which I certainly had not. How shall I explain this? + </p> + <p> + Whatever may have been the case with others, I certainly cannot attribute + this persecution to personal dislike, or to envy, or to feelings of + vindictive animosity. Not to the former, for with the exception of a very + few who are my intimate friends, and were so before they were known as + authors, I have had little other acquaintance with literary characters, + than what may be implied in an accidental introduction, or casual meeting + in a mixed company. And as far as words and looks can be trusted, I must + believe that, even in these instances, I had excited no unfriendly + disposition. Neither by letter, nor in conversation, have I ever had + dispute or controversy beyond the common social interchange of opinions. + Nay, where I had reason to suppose my convictions fundamentally different, + it has been my habit, and I may add, the impulse of my nature, to assign + the grounds of my belief, rather than the belief itself; and not to + express dissent, till I could establish some points of complete sympathy, + some grounds common to both sides, from which to commence its explanation. + </p> + <p> + Still less can I place these attacks to the charge of envy. The few pages + which I have published, are of too distant a date, and the extent of their + sale a proof too conclusive against their having been popular at any time, + to render probable, I had almost said possible, the excitement of envy on + their account; and the man who should envy me on any other, verily he must + be envy-mad! + </p> + <p> + Lastly, with as little semblance of reason, could I suspect any animosity + towards me from vindictive feelings as the cause. I have before said, that + my acquaintance with literary men has been limited and distant; and that I + have had neither dispute nor controversy. From my first entrance into + life, I have, with few and short intervals, lived either abroad or in + retirement. My different essays on subjects of national interest, + published at different times, first in the Morning Post and then in the + Courier, with my courses of Lectures on the principles of criticism as + applied to Shakespeare and Milton, constitute my whole publicity; the only + occasions on which I could offend any member of the republic of letters. + With one solitary exception in which my words were first misstated and + then wantonly applied to an individual, I could never learn that I had + excited the displeasure of any among my literary contemporaries. Having + announced my intention to give a course of Lectures on the characteristic + merits and defects of English poetry in its different aeras; first, from + Chaucer to Milton; second, from Dryden inclusively to Thomson; and third, + from Cowper to the present day; I changed my plan, and confined my + disquisition to the former two periods, that I might furnish no possible + pretext for the unthinking to misconstrue, or the malignant to misapply my + words, and having stamped their own meaning on them, to pass them as + current coin in the marts of garrulity or detraction. + </p> + <p> + Praises of the unworthy are felt by ardent minds as robberies of the + deserving; and it is too true, and too frequent, that Bacon, Harrington, + Machiavel, and Spinoza, are not read, because Hume, Condillac, and + Voltaire are. But in promiscuous company no prudent man will oppugn the + merits of a contemporary in his own supposed department; contenting + himself with praising in his turn those whom he deems excellent. If I + should ever deem it my duty at all to oppose the pretensions of + individuals, I would oppose them in books which could be weighed and + answered, in which I could evolve the whole of my reasons and feelings, + with their requisite limits and modifications; not in irrecoverable + conversation, where however strong the reasons might be, the feelings that + prompted them would assuredly be attributed by some one or other to envy + and discontent. Besides I well know, and, I trust, have acted on that + knowledge, that it must be the ignorant and injudicious who extol the + unworthy; and the eulogies of critics without taste or judgment are the + natural reward of authors without feeling or genius. Sint unicuique sua + praemia. + </p> + <p> + How then, dismissing, as I do, these three causes, am I to account for + attacks, the long continuance and inveteracy of which it would require all + three to explain? The solution seems to be this,—I was in habits of + intimacy with Mr. Wordsworth and Mr. Southey! This, however, transfers, + rather than removes the difficulty. Be it, that, by an unconscionable + extension of the old adage, noscitur a socio, my literary friends are + never under the water-fall of criticism, but I must be wet through with + the spray; yet how came the torrent to descend upon them? + </p> + <p> + First then, with regard to Mr. Southey. I well remember the general + reception of his earlier publications; namely, the poems published with + Mr. Lovell under the names of Moschus and Bion; the two volumes of poems + under his own name, and the Joan of Arc. The censures of the critics by + profession are extant, and may be easily referred to:—careless + lines, inequality in the merit of the different poems, and (in the lighter + works) a predilection for the strange and whimsical; in short, such faults + as might have been anticipated in a young and rapid writer, were indeed + sufficiently enforced. Nor was there at that time wanting a party spirit + to aggravate the defects of a poet, who with all the courage of + uncorrupted youth had avowed his zeal for a cause, which he deemed that of + liberty, and his abhorrence of oppression by whatever name consecrated. + But it was as little objected by others, as dreamed of by the poet + himself, that he preferred careless and prosaic lines on rule and of + forethought, or indeed that he pretended to any other art or theory of + poetic diction, except that which we may all learn from Horace, + Quinctilian, the admirable dialogue, De Oratoribus, generally attributed + to Tacitus, or Strada’s Prolusions; if indeed natural good sense and the + early study of the best models in his own language had not infused the + same maxims more securely, and, if I may venture the expression, more + vitally. All that could have been fairly deduced was, that in his taste + and estimation of writers Mr. Southey agreed far more with Thomas Warton, + than with Dr. Johnson. Nor do I mean to deny, that at all times Mr. + Southey was of the same mind with Sir Philip Sidney in preferring an + excellent ballad in the humblest style of poetry to twenty indifferent + poems that strutted in the highest. And by what have his works, published + since then, been characterized, each more strikingly than the preceding, + but by greater splendour, a deeper pathos, profounder reflections, and a + more sustained dignity of language and of metre? Distant may the period + be, but whenever the time shall come, when all his works shall be + collected by some editor worthy to be his biographer, I trust that an + appendix of excerpta of all the passages, in which his writings, name, and + character have been attacked, from the pamphlets and periodical works of + the last twenty years, may be an accompaniment. Yet that it would prove + medicinal in after times I dare not hope; for as long as there are readers + to be delighted with calumny, there will be found reviewers to calumniate. + And such readers will become in all probability more numerous, in + proportion as a still greater diffusion of literature shall produce an + increase of sciolists, and sciolism bring with it petulance and + presumption. In times of old, books were as religious oracles; as + literature advanced, they next became venerable preceptors; they then + descended to the rank of instructive friends; and, as their numbers + increased, they sank still lower to that of entertaining companions; and + at present they seem degraded into culprits to hold up their hands at the + bar of every self-elected, yet not the less peremptory, judge, who chooses + to write from humour or interest, from enmity or arrogance, and to abide + the decision “of him that reads in malice, or him that reads after + dinner.” + </p> + <p> + The same retrograde movement may be traced, in the relation which the + authors themselves have assumed towards their readers. From the lofty + address of Bacon: “these are the meditations of Francis of Verulam, which + that posterity should be possessed of, he deemed their interest:” or from + dedication to Monarch or Pontiff, in which the honour given was asserted + in equipoise to the patronage acknowledged: from Pindar’s + </p> +<p class="pre"> + <span style="margin-left: 10%;">———’ep’ alloi—</span><br> + si d’alloi megaloi: to d’eschaton koryphoutai <br> + basilensi. Maeketi<br> + <span style="margin-left: 10%;">paptaine porsion.</span><br> + Eiae se te touton<br> + upsou chronon patein, eme<br> + te tossade nikaphorois<br> + omilein, prophanton sophian kath’ Ellanas + eonta panta.—OLYMP. OD. I.<br> +</p> + <p> + there was a gradual sinking in the etiquette or allowed style of + pretension. + </p> + <p> + Poets and Philosophers, rendered diffident by their very number, addressed + themselves to “learned readers;” then aimed to conciliate the graces of + “the candid reader;” till, the critic still rising as the author sank, the + amateurs of literature collectively were erected into a municipality of + judges, and addressed as the Town! And now, finally, all men being + supposed able to read, and all readers able to judge, the multitudinous + Public, shaped into personal unity by the magic of abstraction, sits + nominal despot on the throne of criticism. But, alas! as in other + despotisms, it but echoes the decisions of its invisible ministers, whose + intellectual claims to the guardianship of the Muses seem, for the greater + part, analogous to the physical qualifications which adapt their oriental + brethren for the superintendence of the Harem. Thus it is said, that St. + Nepomuc was installed the guardian of bridges, because he had fallen over + one, and sunk out of sight; thus too St. Cecilia is said to have been + first propitiated by musicians, because, having failed in her own + attempts, she had taken a dislike to the art and all its successful + professors. But I shall probably have occasion hereafter to deliver my + convictions more at large concerning this state of things, and its + influences on taste, genius and morality. + </p> + <p> + In the Thalaba, the Madoc, and still more evidently in the unique <a href="#linknote-16" id="linknoteref-16">[16]</a> + Cid, in the Kehama, and, as last, so best, the Roderick; Southey has given + abundant proof, se cogitare quam sit magnum dare aliquid in manus hominum: + nec persuadere sibi posse, non saepe tractandum quod placere et semper et + omnibus cupiat. But on the other hand, I conceive, that Mr. Southey was + quite unable to comprehend, wherein could consist the crime or mischief of + printing half a dozen or more playful poems; or to speak more generally, + compositions which would be enjoyed or passed over, according as the taste + and humour of the reader might chance to be; provided they contained + nothing immoral. In the present age periturae parcere chartae is + emphatically an unreasonable demand. The merest trifle he ever sent abroad + had tenfold better claims to its ink and paper than all the silly + criticisms on it, which proved no more than that the critic was not one of + those, for whom the trifle was written; and than all the grave + exhortations to a greater reverence for the public—as if the passive + page of a book, by having an epigram or doggerel tale impressed on it, + instantly assumed at once loco-motive power and a sort of ubiquity, so as + to flutter and buz in the ear of the public to the sore annoyance of the + said mysterious personage. But what gives an additional and more ludicrous + absurdity to these lamentations is the curious fact, that if in a volume + of poetry the critic should find poem or passage which he deems more + especially worthless, he is sure to select and reprint it in the review; + by which, on his own grounds, he wastes as much more paper than the + author, as the copies of a fashionable review are more numerous than those + of the original book; in some, and those the most prominent instances, as + ten thousand to five hundred. I know nothing that surpasses the vileness + of deciding on the merits of a poet or painter,—(not by + characteristic defects; for where there is genius, these always point to + his characteristic beauties; but)—by accidental failures or faulty + passages; except the impudence of defending it, as the proper duty, and + most instructive part, of criticism. Omit or pass slightly over the + expression, grace, and grouping of Raffael’s figures; but ridicule in + detail the knitting-needles and broom-twigs, that are to represent trees + in his back grounds; and never let him hear the last of his galli-pots! + Admit that the Allegro and Penseroso of Milton are not without merit; but + repay yourself for this concession, by reprinting at length the two poems + on the University Carrier! As a fair specimen of his Sonnets, quote + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “A Book was writ of late called Tetrachordon;” +</p> + <p> + and, as characteristic of his rhythm and metre, cite his literal + translation of the first and second Psalm! In order to justify yourself, + you need only assert, that had you dwelt chiefly on the beauties and + excellencies of the poet, the admiration of these might seduce the + attention of future writers from the objects of their love and wonder, to + an imitation of the few poems and passages in which the poet was most + unlike himself. + </p> + <p> + But till reviews are conducted on far other principles, and with far other + motives; till in the place of arbitrary dictation and petulant sneers, the + reviewers support their decisions by reference to fixed canons of + criticism, previously established and deduced from the nature of man; + reflecting minds will pronounce it arrogance in them thus to announce + themselves to men of letters, as the guides of their taste and judgment. + To the purchaser and mere reader it is, at all events, an injustice. He + who tells me that there are defects in a new work, tells me nothing which + I should not have taken for granted without his information. But he, who + points out and elucidates the beauties of an original work does indeed + give me interesting information, such as experience would not have + authorized me in anticipating. And as to compositions which the authors + themselves announce with + </p> +<p class="pre"> + Haec ipsi novimus esse nihil, +</p> + <p> + why should we judge by a different rule two printed works, only because + the one author is alive, and the other in his grave? What literary man has + not regretted the prudery of Spratt in refusing to let his friend Cowley + appear in his slippers and dressing gown? I am not perhaps the only one + who has derived an innocent amusement from the riddles, conundrums, + tri-syllable lines, and the like, of Swift and his correspondents, in + hours of languor, when to have read his more finished works would have + been useless to myself, and, in some sort, an act of injustice to the + author. But I am at a loss to conceive by what perversity of judgment, + these relaxations of his genius could be employed to diminish his fame as + the writer of Gulliver, or the Tale of a Tub. Had Mr. Southey written + twice as many poems of inferior merit, or partial interest, as have + enlivened the journals of the day, they would have added to his honour + with good and wise men, not merely or principally as proving the + versatility of his talents, but as evidences of the purity of that mind, + which even in its levities never dictated a line which it need regret on + any moral account. + </p> + <p> + I have in imagination transferred to the future biographer the duty of + contrasting Southey’s fixed and well-earned fame, with the abuse and + indefatigable hostility of his anonymous critics from his early youth to + his ripest manhood. But I cannot think so ill of human nature as not to + believe, that these critics have already taken shame to themselves, + whether they consider the object of their abuse in his moral or his + literary character. For reflect but on the variety and extent of his + acquirements! He stands second to no man, either as an historian or as a + bibliographer; and when I regard him as a popular essayist,—(for the + articles of his compositions in the reviews are, for the greater part, + essays on subjects of deep or curious interest rather than criticisms on + particular works)—I look in vain for any writer, who has conveyed so + much information, from so many and such recondite sources, with so many + just and original reflections, in a style so lively and poignant, yet so + uniformly classical and perspicuous; no one, in short, who has combined so + much wisdom with so much wit; so much truth and knowledge with so much + life and fancy. His prose is always intelligible and always entertaining. + In poetry he has attempted almost every species of composition known + before, and he has added new ones; and if we except the highest lyric,—(in + which how few, how very few even of the greatest minds have been + fortunate)—he has attempted every species successfully; from the + political song of the day, thrown off in the playful overflow of honest + joy and patriotic exultation, to the wild ballad; from epistolary ease and + graceful narrative, to austere and impetuous moral declamation; from the + pastoral charms and wild streaming lights of the Thalaba, in which + sentiment and imagery have given permanence even to the excitement of + curiosity; and from the full blaze of the Kehama,—(a gallery of + finished pictures in one splendid fancy piece, in which, notwithstanding, + the moral grandeur rises gradually above the brilliance of the colouring + and the boldness and novelty of the machinery)—to the more sober + beauties of the Madoc; and lastly, from the Madoc to his Roderick, in + which, retaining all his former excellencies of a poet eminently inventive + and picturesque, he has surpassed himself in language and metre, in the + construction of the whole, and in the splendour of particular passages. + </p> + <p> + Here then shall I conclude? No! The characters of the deceased, like the + encomia on tombstones, as they are described with religious tenderness, so + are they read, with allowing sympathy indeed, but yet with rational + deduction. There are men, who deserve a higher record; men with whose + characters it is the interest of their contemporaries, no less than that + of posterity, to be made acquainted; while it is yet possible for + impartial censure, and even for quick-sighted envy, to cross-examine the + tale without offence to the courtesies of humanity; and while the + eulogist, detected in exaggeration or falsehood, must pay the full penalty + of his baseness in the contempt which brands the convicted flatterer. + Publicly has Mr. Southey been reviled by men, who, as I would fain hope + for the honour of human nature, hurled fire-brands against a figure of + their own imagination; publicly have his talents been depreciated, his + principles denounced; as publicly do I therefore, who have known him + intimately, deem it my duty to leave recorded, that it is Southey’s almost + unexampled felicity, to possess the best gifts of talent and genius free + from all their characteristic defects. To those who remember the state of + our public schools and universities some twenty years past, it will appear + no ordinary praise in any man to have passed from innocence into virtue, + not only free from all vicious habit, but unstained by one act of + intemperance, or the degradations akin to intemperance. That scheme of + head, heart, and habitual demeanour, which in his early manhood, and first + controversial writings, Milton, claiming the privilege of self-defence, + asserts of himself, and challenges his calumniators to disprove; this will + his school-mates, his fellow-collegians, and his maturer friends, with a + confidence proportioned to the intimacy of their knowledge, bear witness + to, as again realized in the life of Robert Southey. But still more + striking to those, who by biography or by their own experience are + familiar with the general habits of genius, will appear the poet’s + matchless industry and perseverance in his pursuits; the worthiness and + dignity of those pursuits; his generous submission to tasks of transitory + interest, or such as his genius alone could make otherwise; and that + having thus more than satisfied the claims of affection or prudence, he + should yet have made for himself time and power, to achieve more, and in + more various departments, than almost any other writer has done, though + employed wholly on subjects of his own choice and ambition. But as Southey + possesses, and is not possessed by, his genius, even so is he master even + of his virtues. The regular and methodical tenor of his daily labours, + which would be deemed rare in the most mechanical pursuits, and might be + envied by the mere man of business, loses all semblance of formality in + the dignified simplicity of his manners, in the spring and healthful + cheerfulness of his spirits. Always employed, his friends find him always + at leisure. No less punctual in trifles, than steadfast in the performance + of highest duties, he inflicts none of those small pains and discomforts + which irregular men scatter about them, and which in the aggregate so + often become formidable obstacles both to happiness and utility; while on + the contrary he bestows all the pleasures, and inspires all that ease of + mind on those around him or connected with him, which perfect consistency, + and (if such a word might be framed) absolute reliability, equally in + small as in great concerns, cannot but inspire and bestow; when this too + is softened without being weakened by kindness and gentleness. I know few + men who so well deserve the character which an antient attributes to + Marcus Cato, namely, that he was likest virtue, in as much as he seemed to + act aright, not in obedience to any law or outward motive, but by the + necessity of a happy nature, which could not act otherwise. As son, + brother, husband, father, master, friend, he moves with firm yet light + steps, alike unostentatious, and alike exemplary. As a writer, he has + uniformly made his talents subservient to the best interests of humanity, + of public virtue, and domestic piety; his cause has ever been the cause of + pure religion and of liberty, of national independence and of national + illumination. When future critics shall weigh out his guerdon of praise + and censure, it will be Southey the poet only, that will supply them with + the scanty materials for the latter. They will likewise not fail to + record, that as no man was ever a more constant friend, never had poet + more friends and honourers among the good of all parties; and that quacks + in education, quacks in politics, and quacks in criticism were his only + enemies. <a href="#linknote-17" id="linknoteref-17">[17]</a> + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV + </h2> + <p> + The Lyrical Ballads with the Preface—Mr. Wordsworth’s earlier poems—On + fancy and imagination—The investigation of the distinction important + to the Fine Arts. + </p> + <p> + I have wandered far from the object in view, but as I fancied to myself + readers who would respect the feelings that had tempted me from the main + road; so I dare calculate on not a few, who will warmly sympathize with + them. At present it will be sufficient for my purpose, if I have proved, + that Mr. Southey’s writings no more than my own furnished the original + occasion to this fiction of a new school of poetry, and to the clamours + against its supposed founders and proselytes. + </p> + <p> + As little do I believe that Mr. Wordsworth’s Lyrical Ballads were in + themselves the cause. I speak exclusively of the two volumes so entitled. + A careful and repeated examination of these confirms me in the belief, + that the omission of less than a hundred lines would have precluded + nine-tenths of the criticism on this work. I hazard this declaration, + however, on the supposition, that the reader has taken it up, as he would + have done any other collection of poems purporting to derive their + subjects or interests from the incidents of domestic or ordinary life, + intermingled with higher strains of meditation which the poet utters in + his own person and character; with the proviso, that these poems were + perused without knowledge of, or reference to, the author’s peculiar + opinions, and that the reader had not had his attention previously + directed to those peculiarities. In that case, as actually happened with + Mr. Southey’s earlier works, the lines and passages which might have + offended the general taste, would have been considered as mere + inequalities, and attributed to inattention, not to perversity of + judgment. The men of business who had passed their lives chiefly in + cities, and who might therefore be expected to derive the highest pleasure + from acute notices of men and manners conveyed in easy, yet correct and + pointed language; and all those who, reading but little poetry, are most + stimulated with that species of it, which seems most distant from prose, + would probably have passed by the volumes altogether. Others more catholic + in their taste, and yet habituated to be most pleased when most excited, + would have contented themselves with deciding, that the author had been + successful in proportion to the elevation of his style and subject. Not a + few, perhaps, might, by their admiration of the Lines written near Tintern + Abbey, on revisiting the Wye, those Left upon a Yew Tree Seat, The Old + Cumberland Beggar, and Ruth, have been gradually led to peruse with + kindred feeling The Brothers, the Hart-leap Well, and whatever other poems + in that collection may be described as holding a middle place between + those written in the highest and those in the humblest style; as for + instance between the Tintern Abbey, and The Thorn, or Simon Lee. Should + their taste submit to no further change, and still remain unreconciled to + the colloquial phrases, or the imitations of them, that are, more or less, + scattered through the class last mentioned; yet even from the small number + of the latter, they would have deemed them but an inconsiderable + subtraction from the merit of the whole work; or, what is sometimes not + unpleasing in the publication of a new writer, as serving to ascertain the + natural tendency, and consequently the proper direction of the author’s + genius. + </p> + <p> + In the critical remarks, therefore, prefixed and annexed to the Lyrical + Ballads, I believe, we may safely rest, as the true origin of the + unexampled opposition which Mr. Wordsworth’s writings have been since + doomed to encounter. The humbler passages in the poems themselves were + dwelt on and cited to justify the rejection of the theory. What in and for + themselves would have been either forgotten or forgiven as imperfections, + or at least comparative failures, provoked direct hostility when announced + as intentional, as the result of choice after full deliberation. Thus the + poems, admitted by all as excellent, joined with those which had pleased + the far greater number, though they formed two-thirds of the whole work, + instead of being deemed (as in all right they should have been, even if we + take for granted that the reader judged aright) an atonement for the few + exceptions, gave wind and fuel to the animosity against both the poems and + the poet. In all perplexity there is a portion of fear, which predisposes + the mind to anger. Not able to deny that the author possessed both genius + and a powerful intellect, they felt very positive,—but yet were not + quite certain that he might not be in the right, and they themselves in + the wrong; an unquiet state of mind, which seeks alleviation by + quarrelling with the occasion of it, and by wondering at the perverseness + of the man, who had written a long and argumentative essay to persuade + them, that + </p> +<p class="pre"> + Fair is foul, and foul is fair; +</p> + <p> + in other words, that they had been all their lives admiring without + judgment, and were now about to censure without reason. <a href="#linknote-18" id="linknoteref-18">[18]</a> + </p> + <p> + That this conjecture is not wide from the mark, I am induced to believe + from the noticeable fact, which I can state on my own knowledge, that the + same general censure has been grounded by almost every different person on + some different poem. Among those, whose candour and judgment I estimate + highly, I distinctly remember six who expressed their objections to the + Lyrical Ballads almost in the same words, and altogether to the same + purport, at the same time admitting, that several of the poems had given + them great pleasure; and, strange as it might seem, the composition which + one cited as execrable, another quoted as his favourite. I am indeed + convinced in my own mind, that could the same experiment have been tried + with these volumes, as was made in the well known story of the picture, + the result would have been the same; the parts which had been covered by + black spots on the one day, would be found equally albo lapide notatae on + the succeeding. + </p> + <p> + However this may be, it was assuredly hard and unjust to fix the attention + on a few separate and insulated poems with as much aversion, as if they + had been so many plague-spots on the whole work, instead of passing them + over in silence, as so much blank paper, or leaves of a bookseller’s + catalogue; especially, as no one pretended to have found in them any + immorality or indelicacy; and the poems, therefore, at the worst, could + only be regarded as so many light or inferior coins in a rouleau of gold, + not as so much alloy in a weight of bullion. A friend whose talents I hold + in the highest respect, but whose judgment and strong sound sense I have + had almost continued occasion to revere, making the usual complaints to me + concerning both the style and subjects of Mr. Wordsworth’s minor poems; I + admitted that there were some few of the tales and incidents, in which I + could not myself find a sufficient cause for their having been recorded in + metre. I mentioned Alice Fell as an instance; “Nay,” replied my friend + with more than usual quickness of manner, “I cannot agree with you there!—that, + I own, does seem to me a remarkably pleasing poem.” In the Lyrical + Ballads, (for my experience does not enable me to extend the remark + equally unqualified to the two subsequent volumes,) I have heard at + different times, and from different individuals, every single poem + extolled and reprobated, with the exception of those of loftier kind, + which as was before observed, seem to have won universal praise. This fact + of itself would have made me diffident in my censures, had not a still + stronger ground been furnished by the strange contrast of the heat and + long continuance of the opposition, with the nature of the faults stated + as justifying it. The seductive faults, the dulcia vitia of Cowley, + Marini, or Darwin might reasonably be thought capable of corrupting the + public judgment for half a century, and require a twenty years war, + campaign after campaign, in order to dethrone the usurper and re-establish + the legitimate taste. But that a downright simpleness, under the + affectation of simplicity, prosaic words in feeble metre, silly thoughts + in childish phrases, and a preference of mean, degrading, or at best + trivial associations and characters, should succeed in forming a school of + imitators, a company of almost religious admirers, and this too among + young men of ardent minds, liberal education, and not + </p> +<p class="pre"> + ———with academic laurels unbestowed; +</p> + <p> + and that this bare and bald counterfeit of poetry, which is characterized + as below criticism, should for nearly twenty years have well-nigh + engrossed criticism, as the main, if not the only, butt of review, + magazine, pamphlet, poem, and paragraph; this is indeed matter of wonder. + Of yet greater is it, that the contest should still continue as undecided + as <a href="#linknote-19" id="linknoteref-19">[19]</a> + that between Bacchus and the frogs in Aristophanes; when the former + descended to the realms of the departed to bring back the spirit of old + and genuine poesy;— + </p> +<p class="pre"> + CH. Brekekekex, koax, koax.<br> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + D. All’ exoloisth’ auto koax.<br> + Ouden gar est’ all’, hae koax.<br> + Oimozet’ ou gar moi melei.<br> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + CH. Alla maen kekraxomestha<br> + g’, oposon hae pharynx an haemon<br> + chandanae di’ haemeras, + brekekekex, koax, koax!<br> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + D. Touto gar ou nikaesete.<br> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + CH. Oude men haemas su pantos.<br> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + D. Oude maen humeis ge dae m’<br> + oudepote. Kekraxomai gar,<br> + kan me deae, di’ haemeras,<br> + eos an humon epikrataeso tou koax!<br> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + CH. Brekekekex, KO’AX, KOAX! +</p> + <p> + During the last year of my residence at Cambridge, 1794, I became + acquainted with Mr. Wordsworth’s first publication entitled Descriptive + Sketches; and seldom, if ever, was the emergence of an original poetic + genius above the literary horizon more evidently announced. In the form, + style, and manner of the whole poem, and in the structure of the + particular lines and periods, there is a harshness and acerbity connected + and combined with words and images all a-glow, which might recall those + products of the vegetable world, where gorgeous blossoms rise out of a + hard and thorny rind and shell, within which the rich fruit is + elaborating. The language is not only peculiar and strong, but at times + knotty and contorted, as by its own impatient strength; while the novelty + and struggling crowd of images, acting in conjunction with the + difficulties of the style, demands always a greater closeness of + attention, than poetry,—at all events, than descriptive poetry—has + a right to claim. It not seldom therefore justified the complaint of + obscurity. In the following extract I have sometimes fancied, that I saw + an emblem of the poem itself, and of the author’s genius as it was then + displayed.— + </p> +<p class="pre"> + ’Tis storm; and hid in mist from hour to hour,<br> + All day the floods a deepening murmur pour;<br> + The sky is veiled, and every cheerful sight<br> + Dark is the region as with coming night;<br> + Yet what a sudden burst of overpowering light!<br> + Triumphant on the bosom of the storm,<br> + Glances the fire-clad eagle’s wheeling form;<br> + Eastward, in long perspective glittering, shine<br> + The wood-crowned cliffs that o’er the lake recline;<br> + Those Eastern cliffs a hundred streams unfold,<br> + At once to pillars turned that flame with gold;<br> + Behind his sail the peasant strives to shun<br> + The west, that burns like one dilated sun,<br> + Where in a mighty crucible expire<br> + The mountains, glowing hot, like coals of fire.<br> +</p> + <p> + The poetic Psyche, in its process to full development, undergoes as many + changes as its Greek namesake, the butterfly <a href="#linknote-20" id="linknoteref-20">[20]</a>. And it is remarkable + how soon genius clears and purifies itself from the faults and errors of + its earliest products; faults which, in its earliest compositions, are the + more obtrusive and confluent, because as heterogeneous elements, which had + only a temporary use, they constitute the very ferment, by which + themselves are carried off. Or we may compare them to some diseases, which + must work on the humours, and be thrown out on the surface, in order to + secure the patient from their future recurrence. I was in my twenty-fourth + year, when I had the happiness of knowing Mr. Wordsworth personally, and + while memory lasts, I shall hardly forget the sudden effect produced on my + mind, by his recitation of a manuscript poem, which still remains + unpublished, but of which the stanza and tone of style were the same as + those of The Female Vagrant, as originally printed in the first volume of + the Lyrical Ballads. There was here no mark of strained thought, or forced + diction, no crowd or turbulence of imagery; and, as the poet hath himself + well described in his Lines on revisiting the Wye, manly reflection and + human associations had given both variety, and an additional interest to + natural objects, which, in the passion and appetite of the first love, + they had seemed to him neither to need nor permit. The occasional + obscurities, which had risen from an imperfect control over the resources + of his native language, had almost wholly disappeared, together with that + worse defect of arbitrary and illogical phrases, at once hackneyed and + fantastic, which hold so distinguished a place in the technique of + ordinary poetry, and will, more or less, alloy the earlier poems of the + truest genius, unless the attention has been specially directed to their + worthlessness and incongruity <a href="#linknote-21" id="linknoteref-21">[21]</a>. +I did not perceive anything particular in the mere +style of the poem alluded to during its recitation, except indeed such +difference as was not separable from the thought and manner; and the +Spenserian stanza, which always, more or less, recalls to the reader’s +mind Spenser’s own style, would doubtless have authorized, in my then +opinion, a more frequent descent to the phrases of ordinary life, than +could without an ill effect have been hazarded in the heroic couplet. +It was not however the freedom from false taste, whether as to common +defects, or to those more properly his own, which made so unusual an +impression on my feelings immediately, and subsequently on my judgment. +It was the union of deep feeling with profound thought; the fine balance +of truth in observing, with the imaginative faculty in modifying, the +objects observed; and above all the original gift of spreading the tone, +the atmosphere, and with it the depth and height of the ideal world +around forms, incidents, and situations, of which, for the common view, +custom had bedimmed all the lustre, had dried up the sparkle and the dew +drops. +</p><p> +This excellence, which in all Mr. Wordsworth’s writings is more or +less predominant, and which constitutes the character of his mind, I no +sooner felt, than I sought to understand. Repeated meditations led me +first to suspect,--(and a more intimate analysis of the human faculties, +their appropriate marks, functions, and effects matured my conjecture +into full conviction,)--that Fancy and Imagination were two distinct and +widely different faculties, instead of being, according to the general +belief, either two names with one meaning, or, at furthest, the lower +and higher degree of one and the same power. It is not, I own, easy to +conceive a more apposite translation of the Greek phantasia than the +Latin imaginatio; but it is equally true that in all societies there +exists an instinct of growth, a certain collective, unconscious good +sense working progressively to desynonymize <a href="#linknote-22" id="linknoteref-22">[22]</a> those words originally of the same meaning, + which the conflux of dialects supplied to the more homogeneous languages, + as the Greek and German: and which the same cause, joined with accidents + of translation from original works of different countries, occasion in + mixed languages like our own. The first and most important point to be + proved is, that two conceptions perfectly distinct are confused under one + and the same word, and—this done—to appropriate that word + exclusively to the one meaning, and the synonyme, should there be one, to + the other. But if,—(as will be often the case in the arts and + sciences,)—no synonyme exists, we must either invent or borrow a + word. In the present instance the appropriation has already begun, and + been legitimated in the derivative adjective: Milton had a highly + imaginative, Cowley a very fanciful mind. If therefore I should succeed in + establishing the actual existence of two faculties generally different, + the nomenclature would be at once determined. To the faculty by which I + had characterized Milton, we should confine the term ‘imagination;’ while + the other would be contra-distinguished as ‘fancy.’ Now were it once fully + ascertained, that this division is no less grounded in nature than that of + delirium from mania, or Otway’s + </p> +<p class="pre"> + Lutes, laurels, seas of milk, and ships of amber, +</p> + <p> + from Shakespeare’s + </p> +<p class="pre"> + What! have his daughters brought him to this pass? +</p> + <p> + or from the preceding apostrophe to the elements; the theory of the fine + arts, and of poetry in particular, could not but derive some additional + and important light. It would in its immediate effects furnish a torch of + guidance to the philosophical critic; and ultimately to the poet himself. + In energetic minds, truth soon changes by domestication into power; and + from directing in the discrimination and appraisal of the product, becomes + influencive in the production. To admire on principle, is the only way to + imitate without loss of originality. + </p> + <p> + It has been already hinted, that metaphysics and psychology have long been + my hobby-horse. But to have a hobby-horse, and to be vain of it, are so + commonly found together, that they pass almost for the same. I trust + therefore, that there will be more good humour than contempt, in the smile + with which the reader chastises my self-complacency, if I confess myself + uncertain, whether the satisfaction from the perception of a truth new to + myself may not have been rendered more poignant by the conceit, that it + would be equally so to the public. There was a time, certainly, in which I + took some little credit to myself, in the belief that I had been the first + of my countrymen, who had pointed out the diverse meaning of which the two + terms were capable, and analyzed the faculties to which they should be + appropriated. Mr. W. Taylor’s recent volume of synonymes I have not yet + seen <a href="#linknote-23" id="linknoteref-23">[23]</a>; + but his specification of the terms in question has been clearly shown to + be both insufficient and erroneous by Mr. Wordsworth in the Preface added + to the late collection of his Poems. The explanation which Mr. Wordsworth + has himself given, will be found to differ from mine, chiefly, perhaps as + our objects are different. It could scarcely indeed happen otherwise, from + the advantage I have enjoyed of frequent conversation with him on a + subject to which a poem of his own first directed my attention, and my + conclusions concerning which he had made more lucid to myself by many + happy instances drawn from the operation of natural objects on the mind. + But it was Mr. Wordsworth’s purpose to consider the influences of fancy + and imagination as they are manifested in poetry, and from the different + effects to conclude their diversity in kind; while it is my object to + investigate the seminal principle, and then from the kind to deduce the + degree. My friend has drawn a masterly sketch of the branches with their + poetic fruitage. I wish to add the trunk, and even the roots as far as + they lift themselves above ground, and are visible to the naked eye of our + common consciousness. + </p> + <p> + Yet even in this attempt I am aware that I shall be obliged to draw more + largely on the reader’s attention, than so immethodical a miscellany as + this can authorize; when in such a work (the Ecclesiasical Polity) of such + a mind as Hooker’s, the judicious author, though no less admirable for the + perspicuity than for the port and dignity of his language,—and + though he wrote for men of learning in a learned age,—saw + nevertheless occasion to anticipate and guard against “complaints of + obscurity,” as often as he was to trace his subject “to the highest + well-spring and fountain.” Which, (continues he) “because men are not + accustomed to, the pains we take are more needful a great deal, than + acceptable; and the matters we handle, seem by reason of newness (till the + mind grow better acquainted with them) dark and intricate.” I would gladly + therefore spare both myself and others this labour, if I knew how without + it to present an intelligible statement of my poetic creed,—not as + my opinions, which weigh for nothing, but as deductions from established + premises conveyed in such a form, as is calculated either to effect a + fundamental conviction, or to receive a fundamental confutation. If I may + dare once more adopt the words of Hooker, “they, unto whom we shall seem + tedious, are in no wise injured by us, because it is in their own hands to + spare that labour, which they are not willing to endure.” Those at least, + let me be permitted to add, who have taken so much pains to render me + ridiculous for a perversion of taste, and have supported the charge by + attributing strange notions to me on no other authority than their own + conjectures, owe it to themselves as well as to me not to refuse their + attention to my own statement of the theory which I do acknowledge; or + shrink from the trouble of examining the grounds on which I rest it, or + the arguments which I offer in its justification. + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V + </h2> + <p> + On the law of Association—Its history traced from Aristotle to + Hartley. + </p> + <p> + There have been men in all ages, who have been impelled as by an instinct + to propose their own nature as a problem, and who devote their attempts to + its solution. The first step was to construct a table of distinctions, + which they seem to have formed on the principle of the absence or presence + of the Will. Our various sensations, perceptions, and movements were + classed as active or passive, or as media partaking of both. A still finer + distinction was soon established between the voluntary and the + spontaneous. In our perceptions we seem to ourselves merely passive to an + external power, whether as a mirror reflecting the landscape, or as a + blank canvass on which some unknown hand paints it. For it is worthy of + notice, that the latter, or the system of Idealism may be traced to + sources equally remote with the former, or Materialism; and Berkeley can + boast an ancestry at least as venerable as Gassendi or Hobbes. These + conjectures, however, concerning the mode in which our perceptions + originated, could not alter the natural difference of Things and Thoughts. + In the former, the cause appeared wholly external, while in the latter, + sometimes our will interfered as the producing or determining cause, and + sometimes our nature seemed to act by a mechanism of its own, without any + conscious effort of the will, or even against it. Our inward experiences + were thus arranged in three separate classes, the passive sense, or what + the School-men call the merely receptive quality of the mind; the + voluntary; and the spontaneous, which holds the middle place between both. + But it is not in human nature to meditate on any mode of action, without + inquiring after the law that governs it; and in the explanation of the + spontaneous movements of our being, the metaphysician took the lead of the + anatomist and natural philosopher. In Egypt, Palestine, Greece, and India + the analysis of the mind had reached its noon and manhood, while + experimental research was still in its dawn and infancy. For many, very + many centuries, it has been difficult to advance a new truth, or even a + new error, in the philosophy of the intellect or morals. With regard, + however, to the laws that direct the spontaneous movements of thought and + the principle of their intellectual mechanism there exists, it has been + asserted, an important exception most honourable to the moderns, and in + the merit of which our own country claims the largest share. Sir James + Mackintosh,—(who, amid the variety of his talents and attainments, + is not of less repute for the depth and accuracy of his philosophical + inquiries than for the eloquence with which he is said to render their + most difficult results perspicuous, and the driest attractive,)—affirmed + in the Lectures, delivered by him in Lincoln’s Inn Hall, that the law of + association as established in the contemporaneity of the original + impressions, formed the basis of all true psychology; and that any + ontological or metaphysical science, not contained in such (that is, an + empirical) psychology, was but a web of abstractions and generalizations. + Of this prolific truth, of this great fundamental law, he declared Hobbes + to have been the original discoverer, while its full application to the + whole intellectual system we owed to Hartley; who stood in the same + relation to Hobbes as Newton to Kepler; the law of association being that + to the mind, which gravitation is to matter. + </p> + <p> + Of the former clause in this assertion, as it respects the comparative + merits of the ancient metaphysicians, including their commentators, the + School-men, and of the modern and British and French philosophers from + Hobbes to Hume, Hartley, and Condillac, this is not the place to speak. So + wide indeed is the chasm between Sir James Mackintosh’s philosophical + creed and mine, that so far from being able to join hands, we could + scarcely make our voices intelligible to each other: and to bridge it over + would require more time, skill, and power than I believe myself to + possess. But the latter clause involves for the greater part a mere + question of fact and history, and the accuracy of the statement is to be + tried by documents rather than reasoning. + </p> + <p> + First, then, I deny Hobbes’s claim in toto: for he had been anticipated by + Des Cartes, whose work De Methodo, preceded Hobbes’s De Natura Humana, by + more than a year. But what is of much more importance, Hobbes builds + nothing on the principle which he had announced. He does not even announce + it, as differing in any respect from the general laws of material motion + and impact: nor was it, indeed, possible for him so to do, compatibly with + his system, which was exclusively material and mechanical. Far otherwise + is it with Des Cartes; greatly as he too in his after writings (and still + more egregiously his followers De la Forge, and others) obscured the truth + by their attempts to explain it on the theory of nervous fluids, and + material configurations. But, in his interesting work, De Methodo, Des + Cartes relates the circumstance which first led him to meditate on this + subject, and which since then has been often noticed and employed as an + instance and illustration of the law. A child who with its eyes bandaged + had lost several of his fingers by amputation, continued to complain for + many days successively of pains, now in this joint and now in that, of the + very fingers which had been cut off. Des Cartes was led by this incident + to reflect on the uncertainty with which we attribute any particular place + to any inward pain or uneasiness, and proceeded after long consideration + to establish it as a general law: that contemporaneous impressions, + whether images or sensations, recall each other mechanically. On this + principle, as a ground work, he built up the whole system of human + language, as one continued process of association. He showed in what sense + not only general terms, but generic images,—under the name of + abstract ideas,—actually existed, and in what consist their nature + and power. As one word may become the general exponent of many, so by + association a simple image may represent a whole class. But in truth + Hobbes himself makes no claims to any discovery, and introduces this law + of association, or (in his own language) discursion of mind, as an + admitted fact, in the solution alone of which, and this by causes purely + physiological, he arrogates any originality. His system is briefly this; + whenever the senses are impinged on by external objects, whether by the + rays of light reflected from them, or by effluxes of their finer + particles, there results a correspondent motion of the innermost and + subtlest organs. This motion constitutes a representation, and there + remains an impression of the same, or a certain disposition to repeat the + same motion. Whenever we feel several objects at the same time, the + impressions that are left, (or in the language of Mr. Hume, the ideas,) <a href="#linknote-24" id="linknoteref-24">[24]</a> are + linked together. Whenever therefore any one of the movements, which + constitute a complex impression, is renewed through the senses, the others + succeed mechanically. It follows of necessity, therefore, that Hobbes, as + well as Hartley and all others who derive association from the connection + and interdependence of the supposed matter, the movements of which + constitute our thoughts, must have reduced all its forms to the one law of + Time. But even the merit of announcing this law with philosophic precision + cannot be fairly conceded to him. For the objects of any two ideas need + not have co-existed in the same sensation in order to become mutually + associable. The same result will follow when one only of the two ideas has + been represented by the senses, and the other by the memory. + </p> + <p> + Long however before either Hobbes or Des Cartes the law of association had + been defined, and its important functions set forth by Ludovicus Vives. + Phantasia, it is to be noticed, is employed by Vives to express the mental + power of comprehension, or the active function of the mind; and imaginatio + for the receptivity (via receptiva) of impressions, or for the passive + perception. The power of combination he appropriates to the former: “quae + singula et simpliciter acceperat imaginatio, ea conjungit et disjungait + phantasia.” And the law by which the thoughts are spontaneously presented + follows thus: “quae simul sunt a phantasia comprehensa, si alterutrum + occurrat, solet secum alterum representare.” To time therefore he + subordinates all the other exciting causes of association. The soul + proceeds “a causa ad effectum, ab hoc ad instrumentum, a parte ad totum;” + thence to the place, from place to person, and from this to whatever + preceded or followed, all as being parts of a total impression, each of + which may recall the other. The apparent springs “saltus vel transitus + etiam longissimos,” he explains by the same thought having been a + component part of two or more total impressions. Thus “ex Scipione venio + in cogitationem potentiae Turcicae, propter victorias ejus de Asia, in qua + regnabat Antiochus.” + </p> + <p> + But from Vives I pass at once to the source of his doctrines, and (as far + as we can judge from the remains yet extant of Greek philosophy) as to the + first, so to the fullest and most perfect enunciation of the associative + principle, namely, to the writings of Aristotle; and of these in + particular to the treatises De Anima, and “De Memoria,” which last belongs + to the series of essays entitled in the old translations Parva Naturalia. + In as much as later writers have either deviated from, or added to his + doctrines, they appear to me to have introduced either error or groundless + supposition. + </p> + <p> + In the first place it is to be observed, that Aristotle’s positions on + this subject are unmixed with fiction. The wise Stagyrite speaks of no + successive particles propagating motion like billiard balls, as Hobbes; + nor of nervous or animal spirits, where inanimate and irrational solids + are thawed down, and distilled, or filtrated by ascension, into living and + intelligent fluids, that etch and re-etch engravings on the brain, as the + followers of Des Cartes, and the humoral pathologists in general; nor of + an oscillating ether which was to effect the same service for the nerves + of the brain considered as solid fibres, as the animal spirits perform for + them under the notion of hollow tubes, as Hartley teaches—nor + finally, (with yet more recent dreamers) of chemical compositions by + elective affinity, or of an electric light at once the immediate object + and the ultimate organ of inward vision, which rises to the brain like an + Aurora Borealis, and there, disporting in various shapes,—as the + balance of plus and minus, or negative and positive, is destroyed or + re-established,—images out both past and present. Aristotle delivers + a just theory without pretending to an hypothesis; or in other words a + comprehensive survey of the different facts, and of their relations to + each other without supposition, that is, a fact placed under a number of + facts, as their common support and explanation; though in the majority of + instances these hypotheses or suppositions better deserve the name of + upopoiaeseis, or suffictions. He uses indeed the word kinaeseis, to + express what we call representations or ideas, but he carefully + distinguishes them from material motion, designating the latter always by + annexing the words en topo, or kata topon. On the contrary, in his + treatise De Anima, he excludes place and motion from all the operations of + thought, whether representations or volitions, as attributes utterly and + absurdly heterogeneous. + </p> + <p> + The general law of association, or, more accurately, the common condition + under which all exciting causes act, and in which they may be generalized, + according to Aristotle is this. Ideas by having been together acquire a + power of recalling each other; or every partial representation awakes the + total representation of which it had been a part. In the practical + determination of this common principle to particular recollections, he + admits five agents or occasioning causes: first, connection in time, + whether simultaneous, preceding, or successive; second, vicinity or + connection in space; third, interdependence or necessary connection, as + cause and effect; fourth, likeness; and fifth, contrast. As an additional + solution of the occasional seeming chasms in the continuity of + reproduction he proves, that movements or ideas possessing one or the + other of these five characters had passed through the mind as intermediate + links, sufficiently clear to recall other parts of the same total + impressions with which they had co-existed, though not vivid enough to + excite that degree of attention which is requisite for distinct + recollection, or as we may aptly express it, after consciousness. In + association then consists the whole mechanism of the reproduction of + impressions, in the Aristotelian Psychology. It is the universal law of + the passive fancy and mechanical memory; that which supplies to all other + faculties their objects, to all thought the elements of its materials. + </p> + <p> + In consulting the excellent commentary of St. Thomas Aquinas on the Parva + Naturalia of Aristotle, I was struck at once with its close resemblance to + Hume’s Essay on Association. The main thoughts were the same in both, the + order of the thoughts was the same, and even the illustrations differed + only by Hume’s occasional substitution of more modern examples. I + mentioned the circumstance to several of my literary acquaintances, who + admitted the closeness of the resemblance, and that it seemed too great to + be explained by mere coincidence; but they thought it improbable that Hume + should have held the pages of the Angelic Doctor worth turning over. But + some time after Mr. Payne showed Sir James Mackintosh some odd volumes of + St. Thomas Aquinas, partly perhaps from having heard that he had in his + Lectures passed a high encomium on this canonized philosopher; but chiefly + from the fact, that the volumes had belonged to Mr. Hume, and had here and + there marginal marks and notes of reference in his own hand writing. Among + these volumes was that which contains the Parva Naturalia, in the old + Latin version, swathed and swaddled in the commentary afore mentioned + </p> + <p> + It remains then for me, first to state wherein Hartley differs from + Aristotle; then, to exhibit the grounds of my conviction, that he differed + only to err: and next as the result, to show, by what influences of the + choice and judgment the associative power becomes either memory or fancy; + and, in conclusion, to appropriate the remaining offices of the mind to + the reason, and the imagination. With my best efforts to be as perspicuous + as the nature of language will permit on such a subject, I earnestly + solicit the good wishes and friendly patience of my readers, while I thus + go “sounding on my dim and perilous way.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI + </h2> + <p> + That Hartley’s system, as far as it differs from that of Aristotle, is + neither tenable in theory, nor founded in facts. + </p> + <p> + Of Hartley’s hypothetical vibrations in his hypothetical oscillating ether + of the nerves, which is the first and most obvious distinction between his + system and that of Aristotle, I shall say little. This, with all other + similar attempts to render that an object of the sight which has no + relation to sight, has been already sufficiently exposed by the younger + Reimarus, Maasz, and others, as outraging the very axioms of mechanics in + a scheme, the merit of which consists in its being mechanical. Whether any + other philosophy be possible, but the mechanical; and again, whether the + mechanical system can have any claim to be called philosophy; are + questions for another place. It is, however, certain, that as long as we + deny the former, and affirm the latter, we must bewilder ourselves, + whenever we would pierce into the adyta of causation; and all that + laborious conjecture can do, is to fill up the gaps of fancy. Under that + despotism of the eye (the emancipation from which Pythagoras by his + numeral, and Plato by his musical, symbols, and both by geometric + discipline, aimed at, as the first propaideuma of the mind)—under + this strong sensuous influence, we are restless because invisible things + are not the objects of vision; and metaphysical systems, for the most + part, become popular, not for their truth, but in proportion as they + attribute to causes a susceptibility of being seen, if only our visual + organs were sufficiently powerful. + </p> + <p> + From a hundred possible confutations let one suffice. According to this + system the idea or vibration a from the external object A becomes + associable with the idea or vibration m from the external object M, + because the oscillation a propagated itself so as to re-produce the + oscillation m. But the original impression from M was essentially + different from the impression A: unless therefore different causes may + produce the same effect, the vibration a could never produce the vibration + m: and this therefore could never be the means, by which a and m are + associated. To understand this, the attentive reader need only be + reminded, that the ideas are themselves, in Hartley’s system, nothing more + than their appropriate configurative vibrations. It is a mere delusion of + the fancy to conceive the pre-existence of the ideas, in any chain of + association, as so many differently coloured billiard-balls in contact, so + that when an object, the billiard-stick, strikes the first or white ball, + the same motion propagates itself through the red, green, blue and black, + and sets the whole in motion. No! we must suppose the very same force, + which constitutes the white ball, to constitute the red or black; or the + idea of a circle to constitute the idea of a triangle; which is + impossible. + </p> + <p> + But it may be said, that by the sensations from the objects A and M, the + nerves have acquired a disposition to the vibrations a and m, and + therefore a need only be repeated in order to re-produce m. Now we will + grant, for a moment, the possibility of such a disposition in a material + nerve, which yet seems scarcely less absurd than to say, that a + weather-cock had acquired a habit of turning to the east, from the wind + having been so long in that quarter: for if it be replied, that we must + take in the circumstance of life, what then becomes of the mechanical + philosophy? And what is the nerve, but the flint which the wag placed in + the pot as the first ingredient of his stone broth, requiring only salt, + turnips, and mutton, for the remainder! But if we waive this, and + pre-suppose the actual existence of such a disposition; two cases are + possible. Either, every idea has its own nerve and correspondent + oscillation, or this is not the case. If the latter be the truth, we + should gain nothing by these dispositions; for then, every nerve having + several dispositions, when the motion of any other nerve is propagated + into it, there will be no ground or cause present, why exactly the + oscillation m should arise, rather than any other to which it was equally + pre-disposed. But if we take the former, and let every idea have a nerve + of its own, then every nerve must be capable of propagating its motion + into many other nerves; and again, there is no reason assignable, why the + vibration m should arise, rather than any other ad libitum. + </p> + <p> + It is fashionable to smile at Hartley’s vibrations and vibratiuncles; and + his work has been re-edited by Priestley, with the omission of the + material hypothesis. But Hartley was too great a man, too coherent a + thinker, for this to have been done, either consistently or to any wise + purpose. For all other parts of his system, as far as they are peculiar to + that system, once removed from their mechanical basis, not only lose their + main support, but the very motive which led to their adoption. Thus the + principle of contemporaneity, which Aristotle had made the common + condition of all the laws of association, Hartley was constrained to + represent as being itself the sole law. For to what law can the action of + material atoms be subject, but that of proximity in place? And to what law + can their motions be subjected but that of time? Again, from this results + inevitably, that the will, the reason, the judgment, and the + understanding, instead of being the determining causes of association, + must needs be represented as its creatures, and among its mechanical + effects. Conceive, for instance, a broad stream, winding through a + mountainous country with an indefinite number of currents, varying and + running into each other according as the gusts chance to blow from the + opening of the mountains. The temporary union of several currents in one, + so as to form the main current of the moment, would present an accurate + image of Hartley’s theory of the will. + </p> + <p> + Had this been really the case, the consequence would have been, that our + whole life would be divided between the despotism of outward impressions, + and that of senseless and passive memory. Take his law in its highest + abstraction and most philosophical form, namely, that every partial + representation recalls the total representation of which it was a part; + and the law becomes nugatory, were it only for its universality. In + practice it would indeed be mere lawlessness. Consider, how immense must + be the sphere of a total impression from the top of St. Paul’s church; and + how rapid and continuous the series of such total impressions. If, + therefore, we suppose the absence of all interference of the will, reason, + and judgment, one or other of two consequences must result. Either the + ideas, or reliques of such impression, will exactly imitate the order of + the impression itself, which would be absolute delirium: or any one part + of that impression might recall any other part, and—(as from the law + of continuity, there must exist in every total impression, some one or + more parts, which are components of some other following total impression, + and so on ad infinitum)—any part of any impression might recall any + part of any other, without a cause present to determine what it should be. + For to bring in the will, or reason, as causes of their own cause, that + is, as at once causes and effects, can satisfy those only who, in their + pretended evidences of a God, having first demanded organization, as the + sole cause and ground of intellect, will then coolly demand the + pre-existence of intellect, as the cause and ground-work of organization. + There is in truth but one state to which this theory applies at all, + namely, that of complete light-headedness; and even to this it applies but + partially, because the will and reason are perhaps never wholly suspended. + </p> + <p> + A case of this kind occurred in a Roman Catholic town in Germany a year or + two before my arrival at Goettingen, and had not then ceased to be a + frequent subject of conversation. A young woman of four or five and + twenty, who could neither read, nor write, was seized with a nervous + fever; during which, according to the asseverations of all the priests and + monks of the neighbourhood, she became possessed, and, as it appeared, by + a very learned devil. She continued incessantly talking Latin, Greek, and + Hebrew, in very pompous tones and with most distinct enunciation. This + possession was rendered more probable by the known fact that she was or + had been a heretic. Voltaire humorously advises the devil to decline all + acquaintance with medical men; and it would have been more to his + reputation, if he had taken this advice in the present instance. The case + had attracted the particular attention of a young physician, and by his + statement many eminent physiologists and psychologists visited the town, + and cross-examined the case on the spot. Sheets full of her ravings were + taken down from her own mouth, and were found to consist of sentences, + coherent and intelligible each for itself, but with little or no + connection with each other. Of the Hebrew, a small portion only could be + traced to the Bible; the remainder seemed to be in the Rabbinical dialect. + All trick or conspiracy was out of the question. Not only had the young + woman ever been a harmless, simple creature; but she was evidently + labouring under a nervous fever. In the town, in which she had been + resident for many years as a servant in different families, no solution + presented itself. The young physician, however, determined to trace her + past life step by step; for the patient herself was incapable of returning + a rational answer. He at length succeeded in discovering the place, where + her parents had lived: travelled thither, found them dead, but an uncle + surviving; and from him learned, that the patient had been charitably + taken by an old Protestant pastor at nine years old, and had remained with + him some years, even till the old man’s death. Of this pastor the uncle + knew nothing, but that he was a very good man. With great difficulty, and + after much search, our young medical philosopher discovered a niece of the + pastor’s, who had lived with him as his house-keeper, and had inherited + his effects. She remembered the girl; related, that her venerable uncle + had been too indulgent, and could not bear to hear the girl scolded; that + she was willing to have kept her, but that, after her patron’s death, the + girl herself refused to stay. Anxious inquiries were then, of course, made + concerning the pastor’s habits; and the solution of the phenomenon was + soon obtained. For it appeared, that it had been the old man’s custom, for + years, to walk up and down a passage of his house into which the kitchen + door opened, and to read to himself with a loud voice, out of his + favourite books. A considerable number of these were still in the niece’s + possession. She added, that he was a very learned man and a great + Hebraist. Among the books were found a collection of Rabbinical writings, + together with several of the Greek and Latin Fathers; and the physician + succeeded in identifying so many passages with those taken down at the + young woman’s bedside, that no doubt could remain in any rational mind + concerning the true origin of the impressions made on her nervous system. + </p> + <p> + This authenticated case furnishes both proof and instance, that reliques + of sensation may exist for an indefinite time in a latent state, in the + very same order in which they were originally impressed; and as we cannot + rationally suppose the feverish state of the brain to act in any other way + than as a stimulus, this fact (and it would not be difficult to adduce + several of the same kind) contributes to make it even probable, that all + thoughts are in themselves imperishable; and, that if the intelligent + faculty should be rendered more comprehensive, it would require only a + different and apportioned organization,—the body celestial instead + of the body terrestrial,—to bring before every human soul the + collective experience of its whole past existence. And this, this, + perchance, is the dread book of judgment, in the mysterious hieroglyphics + of which every idle word is recorded! Yea, in the very nature of a living + spirit, it may be more possible that heaven and earth should pass away, + than that a single act, a single thought, should be loosened or lost from + that living chain of causes, with all the links of which, conscious or + unconscious, the free-will, our only absolute Self, is coextensive and + co-present. But not now dare I longer discourse of this, waiting for a + loftier mood, and a nobler subject, warned from within and from without, + that it is profanation to speak of these “mysteries tois maede + phantasteisin, os kalon to taes dikaiosynaes kai sophrosynaes prosopon, + kai oute hesperos oute eoos outo kala. To gar horon pros to horomenon + syngenes kai homoion poiaesamenon dei epiballein tae thea, ou gar an + popote eiden ophthalmos haelion, haelioeidaes mae gegenaemenos oude to + kalon an idae psychae, mae kagae genomenae—to those to whose + imagination it has never been presented, how beautiful is the countenance + of justice and wisdom; and that neither the morning nor the evening star + are so fair. For in order to direct the view aright, it behoves that the + beholder should have made himself congenerous and similar to the object + beheld. Never could the eye have beheld the sun, had not its own essence + been soliform,” (i.e. pre-configured to light by a similarity of essence + with that of light) “neither can a soul not beautiful attain to an + intuition of beauty.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII + </h2> + <p> + Of the necessary consequences of the Hartleian Theory—Of the + original mistake or equivocation which procured its admission—Memoria + technica. + </p> + <p> + We will pass by the utter incompatibility of such a law—if law it + may be called, which would itself be a slave of chances—with even + that appearance of rationality forced upon us by the outward phaenomena of + human conduct, abstracted from our own consciousness. We will agree to + forget this for the moment, in order to fix our attention on that + subordination of final to efficient causes in the human being, which flows + of necessity from the assumption, that the will and, with the will, all + acts of thought and attention are parts and products of this blind + mechanism, instead of being distinct powers, the function of which it is + to control, determine, and modify the phantasmal chaos of association. The + soul becomes a mere ens logicum; for, as a real separable being, it would + be more worthless and ludicrous than the Grimalkins in the + cat-harpsichord, described in the Spectator. For these did form a part of + the process; but, to Hartley’s scheme, the soul is present only to be + pinched or stroked, while the very squeals or purring are produced by an + agency wholly independent and alien. It involves all the difficulties, all + the incomprehensibility (if it be not indeed, os emoige dokei, the + absurdity), of intercommunion between substances that have no one property + in common, without any of the convenient consequences that bribed the + judgment to the admission of the Dualistic hypothesis. Accordingly, this + caput mortuum of the Hartleian process has been rejected by his followers, + and the consciousness considered as a result, as a tune, the common + product of the breeze and the harp though this again is the mere remotion + of one absurdity to make way for another, equally preposterous. For what + is harmony but a mode of relation, the very esse of which is percipi?—an + ens rationale, which pre-supposes the power, that by perceiving creates + it? The razor’s edge becomes a saw to the armed vision; and the delicious + melodies of Purcell or Cimarosa might be disjointed stammerings to a + hearer, whose partition of time should be a thousand times subtler than + ours. But this obstacle too let us imagine ourselves to have surmounted, + and “at one bound high overleap all bound.” Yet according to this + hypothesis the disquisition, to which I am at present soliciting the + reader’s attention, may be as truly said to be written by Saint Paul’s + church, as by me: for it is the mere motion of my muscles and nerves; and + these again are set in motion from external causes equally passive, which + external causes stand themselves in interdependent connection with every + thing that exists or has existed. Thus the whole universe co-operates to + produce the minutest stroke of every letter, save only that I myself, and + I alone, have nothing to do with it, but merely the causeless and + effectless beholding of it when it is done. Yet scarcely can it be called + a beholding; for it is neither an act nor an effect; but an impossible + creation of a something nothing out of its very contrary! It is the mere + quick-silver plating behind a looking-glass; and in this alone consists + the poor worthless I! The sum total of my moral and intellectual + intercourse, dissolved into its elements, is reduced to extension, motion, + degrees of velocity, and those diminished copies of configurative motion, + which form what we call notions, and notions of notions. Of such + philosophy well might Butler say— + </p> +<p class="pre"> + The metaphysic’s but a puppet motion<br> + That goes with screws, the notion of a notion;<br> + The copy of a copy and lame draught<br> + Unnaturally taken from a thought<br> + That counterfeits all pantomimic tricks,<br> + And turns the eyes, like an old crucifix;<br> + That counterchanges whatsoe’er it calls<br> + By another name, and makes it true or false;<br> + Turns truth to falsehood, falsehood into truth,<br> + By virtue of the Babylonian’s tooth. +</p> + <p> + The inventor of the watch, if this doctrine be true, did not in reality + invent it; he only looked on, while the blind causes, the only true + artists, were unfolding themselves. So must it have been too with my + friend Allston, when he sketched his picture of the dead man revived by + the bones of the prophet Elijah. So must it have been with Mr. Southey and + Lord Byron, when the one fancied himself composing his Roderick, and the + other his Childe Harold. The same must hold good of all systems of + philosophy; of all arts, governments, wars by sea and by land; in short, + of all things that ever have been or that ever will be produced. For, + according to this system, it is not the affections and passions that are + at work, in as far as they are sensations or thoughts. We only fancy, that + we act from rational resolves, or prudent motives, or from impulses of + anger, love, or generosity. In all these cases the real agent is a + something-nothing-everything, which does all of which we know, and knows + nothing of all that itself does. + </p> + <p> + The existence of an infinite spirit, of an intelligent and holy will, + must, on this system, be mere articulated motions of the air. For as the + function of the human understanding is no other than merely to appear to + itself to combine and to apply the phaenomena of the association; and as + these derive all their reality from the primary sensations; and the + sensations again all their reality from the impressions ab extra; a God + not visible, audible, or tangible, can exist only in the sounds and + letters that form his name and attributes. If in ourselves there be no + such faculties as those of the will, and the scientific reason, we must + either have an innate idea of them, which would overthrow the whole + system; or we can have no idea at all. The process, by which Hume degraded + the notion of cause and effect into a blind product of delusion and habit, + into the mere sensation of proceeding life (nisus vitalis) associated with + the images of the memory; this same process must be repeated to the equal + degradation of every fundamental idea in ethics or theology. + </p> + <p> + Far, very far am I from burthening with the odium of these consequences + the moral characters of those who first formed, or have since adopted the + system! It is most noticeable of the excellent and pious Hartley, that, in + the proofs of the existence and attributes of God, with which his second + volume commences, he makes no reference to the principle or results of the + first. Nay, he assumes, as his foundations, ideas which, if we embrace the + doctrines of his first volume, can exist no where but in the vibrations of + the ethereal medium common to the nerves and to the atmosphere. Indeed the + whole of the second volume is, with the fewest possible exceptions, + independent of his peculiar system. So true is it, that the faith, which + saves and sanctifies, is a collective energy, a total act of the whole + moral being; that its living sensorium is in the heart; and that no errors + of the understanding can be morally arraigned unless they have proceeded + from the heart. But whether they be such, no man can be certain in the + case of another, scarcely perhaps even in his own. Hence it follows by + inevitable consequence, that man may perchance determine what is a heresy; + but God only can know who is a heretic. It does not, however, by any means + follow that opinions fundamentally false are harmless. A hundred causes + may co-exist to form one complex antidote. Yet the sting of the adder + remains venomous, though there are many who have taken up the evil thing, + and it hurted them not. Some indeed there seem to have been, in an + unfortunate neighbour nation at least, who have embraced this system with + a full view of all its moral and religious consequences; some— + </p> +<p class="pre"> + ———who deem themselves most free,<br> + When they within this gross and visible sphere<br> + Chain down the winged thought, scoffing ascent,<br> + Proud in their meanness; and themselves they cheat<br> + With noisy emptiness of learned phrase,<br> + Their subtle fluids, impacts, essences,<br> + Self-working tools, uncaus’d effects, and all<br> + Those blind omniscients, those almighty slaves,<br> + Untenanting creation of its God! +</p> + <p> + Such men need discipline, not argument; they must be made better men, + before they can become wiser. + </p> + <p> + The attention will be more profitably employed in attempting to discover + and expose the paralogisms, by the magic of which such a faith could find + admission into minds framed for a nobler creed. These, it appears to me, + may be all reduced to one sophism as their common genus; the mistaking the + conditions of a thing for its causes and essence; and the process, by + which we arrive at the knowledge of a faculty, for the faculty itself. The + air I breathe is the condition of my life, not its cause. We could never + have learned that we had eyes but by the process of seeing; yet having + seen we know that the eyes must have pre-existed in order to render the + process of sight possible. Let us cross-examine Hartley’s scheme under the + guidance of this distinction; and we shall discover, that contemporaneity, + (Leibnitz’s Lex Continui,) is the limit and condition of the laws of mind, + itself being rather a law of matter, at least of phaenomena considered as + material. At the utmost, it is to thought the same, as the law of + gravitation is to loco-motion. In every voluntary movement we first + counteract gravitation, in order to avail ourselves of it. It must exist, + that there may be a something to be counteracted, and which, by its + re-action, may aid the force that is exerted to resist it. Let us consider + what we do when we leap. We first resist the gravitating power by an act + purely voluntary, and then by another act, voluntary in part, we yield to + it in order to alight on the spot, which we had previously proposed to + ourselves. Now let a man watch his mind while he is composing; or, to take + a still more common case, while he is trying to recollect a name; and he + will find the process completely analogous. Most of my readers will have + observed a small water-insect on the surface of rivulets, which throws a + cinque-spotted shadow fringed with prismatic colours on the sunny bottom + of the brook; and will have noticed, how the little animal wins its way up + against the stream, by alternate pulses of active and passive motion, now + resisting the current, and now yielding to it in order to gather strength + and a momentary fulcrum for a further propulsion. This is no unapt emblem + of the mind’s self-experience in the act of thinking. There are evidently + two powers at work, which relatively to each other are active and passive; + and this is not possible without an intermediate faculty, which is at once + both active and passive. In philosophical language, we must denominate + this intermediate faculty in all its degrees and determinations, the + IMAGINATION. But, in common language, and especially on the subject of + poetry, we appropriate the name to a superior degree of the faculty, + joined to a superior voluntary control over it. + </p> + <p> + Contemporaneity, then, being the common condition of all the laws of + association, and a component element in the materia subjecta, the parts of + which are to be associated, must needs be co-present with all. Nothing, + therefore, can be more easy than to pass off on an incautious mind this + constant companion of each, for the essential substance of all. But if we + appeal to our own consciousness, we shall find that even time itself, as + the cause of a particular act of association, is distinct from + contemporaneity, as the condition of all association. Seeing a mackerel, + it may happen, that I immediately think of gooseberries, because I at the + same time ate mackerel with gooseberries as the sauce. The first syllable + of the latter word, being that which had coexisted with the image of the + bird so called, I may then think of a goose. In the next moment the image + of a swan may arise before me, though I had never seen the two birds + together. In the first two instances, I am conscious that their + co-existence in time was the circumstance, that enabled me to recollect + them; and equally conscious am I that the latter was recalled to me by the + joint operation of likeness and contrast. So it is with cause and effect: + so too with order. So I am able to distinguish whether it was proximity in + time, or continuity in space, that occasioned me to recall B on the + mention of A. They cannot be indeed separated from contemporaneity; for + that would be to separate them from the mind itself. The act of + consciousness is indeed identical with time considered in its essence. I + mean time per se, as contra-distinguished from our notion of time; for + this is always blended with the idea of space, which, as the opposite of + time, is therefore its measure. Nevertheless the accident of seeing two + objects at the same moment, and the accident of seeing them in the same + place are two distinct or distinguishable causes: and the true practical + general law of association is this; that whatever makes certain parts of a + total impression more vivid or distinct than the rest, will determine the + mind to recall these in preference to others equally linked together by + the common condition of contemporaneity, or (what I deem a more + appropriate and philosophical term) of continuity. But the will itself by + confining and intensifying <a href="#linknote-25" id="linknoteref-25">[25]</a> the attention may arbitrarily give +vividness or distinctness to any object whatsoever; and from hence we +may deduce the uselessness, if not the absurdity, of certain recent +schemes which promise an artificial memory, but which in reality can +only produce a confusion and debasement of the fancy. Sound logic, as +the habitual subordination of the individual to the species, and of +the species to the genus; philosophical knowledge of facts under the +relation of cause and effect; a cheerful and communicative temper +disposing us to notice the similarities and contrasts of things, that +we may be able to illustrate the one by the other; a quiet conscience; +a condition free from anxieties; sound health, and above all (as far as +relates to passive remembrance) a healthy digestion; these are the best, +these are the only Arts of Memory. + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2 id="link2HCH0008"> + CHAPTER VIII + </h2> + <p> + The system of Dualism introduced by Des Cartes—Refined first by + Spinoza and afterwards by Leibnitz into the doctrine of Harmonia + praestabilita—Hylozoism—Materialism—None of these + systems, or any possible theory of association, supplies or supersedes a + theory of perception, or explains the formation of the associable. + </p> + <p> + To the best of my knowledge Des Cartes was the first philosopher who + introduced the absolute and essential heterogenity of the soul as + intelligence, and the body as matter. The assumption, and the form of + speaking have remained, though the denial of all other properties to + matter but that of extension, on which denial the whole system of Dualism + is grounded, has been long exploded. For since impenetrability is + intelligible only as a mode of resistance; its admission places the + essence of matter in an act or power, which it possesses in common with + spirit; and body and spirit are therefore no longer absolutely + heterogeneous, but may without any absurdity be supposed to be different + modes, or degrees in perfection, of a common substratum. To this + possibility, however, it was not the fashion to advert. The soul was a + thinking substance, and body a space-filling substance. Yet the apparent + action of each on the other pressed heavy on the philosopher on the one + hand; and no less heavily on the other hand pressed the evident truth, + that the law of causality holds only between homogeneous things, that is, + things having some common property; and cannot extend from one world into + another, its contrary. A close analysis evinced it to be no less absurd + than the question whether a man’s affection for his wife lay North-east, + or South-west of the love he bore towards his child. Leibnitz’s doctrine + of a pre-established harmony; which he certainly borrowed from Spinoza, + who had himself taken the hint from Des Cartes’s animal machines, was in + its common interpretation too strange to survive the inventor—too + repugnant to our common sense; which is not indeed entitled to a judicial + voice in the courts of scientific philosophy; but whose whispers still + exert a strong secret influence. Even Wolf, the admirer and illustrious + systematizer of the Leibnitzian doctrine, contents himself with defending + the possibility of the idea, but does not adopt it as a part of the + edifice. + </p> + <p> + The hypothesis of Hylozoism, on the other side, is the death of all + rational physiology, and indeed of all physical science; for that requires + a limitation of terms, and cannot consist with the arbitrary power of + multiplying attributes by occult qualities. Besides, it answers no + purpose; unless, indeed, a difficulty can be solved by multiplying it, or + we can acquire a clearer notion of our soul by being told that we have a + million of souls, and that every atom of our bodies has a soul of its own. + Far more prudent is it to admit the difficulty once for all, and then let + it lie at rest. There is a sediment indeed at the bottom of the vessel, + but all the water above it is clear and transparent. The Hylozoist only + shakes it up, and renders the whole turbid. + </p> + <p> + But it is not either the nature of man, or the duty of the philosopher to + despair concerning any important problem until, as in the squaring of the + circle, the impossibility of a solution has been demonstrated. How the + esse assumed as originally distinct from the scire, can ever unite itself + with it; how being can transform itself into a knowing, becomes + conceivable on one only condition; namely, if it can be shown that the vis + representativa, or the Sentient, is itself a species of being; that is, + either as a property or attribute, or as an hypostasis or self + subsistence. The former—that thinking is a property of matter under + particular conditions,—is, indeed, the assumption of materialism; a + system which could not but be patronized by the philosopher, if only it + actually performed what it promises. But how any affection from without + can metamorphose itself into perception or will, the materialist has + hitherto left, not only as incomprehensible as he found it, but has + aggravated it into a comprehensible absurdity. For, grant that an object + from without could act upon the conscious self, as on a consubstantial + object; yet such an affection could only engender something homogeneous + with itself. Motion could only propagate motion. Matter has no Inward. We + remove one surface, but to meet with another. We can but divide a particle + into particles; and each atom comprehends in itself the properties of the + material universe. Let any reflecting mind make the experiment of + explaining to itself the evidence of our sensuous intuitions, from the + hypothesis that in any given perception there is a something which has + been communicated to it by an impact, or an impression ab extra. In the + first place, by the impact on the percipient, or ens representans, not the + object itself, but only its action or effect, will pass into the same. Not + the iron tongue, but its vibrations, pass into the metal of the bell. Now + in our immediate perception, it is not the mere power or act of the + object, but the object itself, which is immediately present. We might + indeed attempt to explain this result by a chain of deductions and + conclusions; but that, first, the very faculty of deducing and concluding + would equally demand an explanation; and secondly, that there exists in + fact no such intermediation by logical notions, such as those of cause and + effect. It is the object itself, not the product of a syllogism, which is + present to our consciousness. Or would we explain this supervention of the + object to the sensation, by a productive faculty set in motion by an + impulse; still the transition, into the percipient, of the object itself, + from which the impulse proceeded, assumes a power that can permeate and + wholly possess the soul, + </p> +<p class="pre"> + And like a God by spiritual art,<br> + Be all in all, and all in every part. +</p> + <p> + And how came the percipient here? And what is become of the wonder- + promising Matter, that was to perform all these marvels by force of mere + figure, weight and motion? The most consistent proceeding of the dogmatic + materialist is to fall back into the common rank of soul-and- bodyists; to + affect the mysterious, and declare the whole process a revelation given, + and not to be understood, which it would be profane to examine too + closely. Datur non intelligitur. But a revelation unconfirmed by miracles, + and a faith not commanded by the conscience, a philosopher may venture to + pass by, without suspecting himself of any irreligious tendency. + </p> + <p> + Thus, as materialism has been generally taught, it is utterly + unintelligible, and owes all its proselytes to the propensity so common + among men, to mistake distinct images for clear conceptions; and vice + versa, to reject as inconceivable whatever from its own nature is + unimaginable. But as soon as it becomes intelligible, it ceases to be + materialism. In order to explain thinking, as a material phaenomenon, it + is necessary to refine matter into a mere modification of intelligence, + with the two-fold function of appearing and perceiving. Even so did + Priestley in his controversy with Price. He stripped matter of all its + material properties; substituted spiritual powers; and when we expected to + find a body, behold! we had nothing but its ghost—the apparition of + a defunct substance! + </p> + <p> + I shall not dilate further on this subject; because it will, (if God grant + health and permission), be treated of at large and systematically in a + work, which I have many years been preparing, on the Productive Logos + human and divine; with, and as the introduction to, a full commentary on + the Gospel of St. John. To make myself intelligible as far as my present + subject requires, it will be sufficient briefly to observe.—1. That + all association demands and presupposes the existence of the thoughts and + images to be associated.—2. That the hypothesis of an external world + exactly correspondent to those images or modifications of our own being, + which alone, according to this system, we actually behold, is as thorough + idealism as Berkeley’s, inasmuch as it equally, perhaps in a more perfect + degree, removes all reality and immediateness of perception, and places us + in a dream-world of phantoms and spectres, the inexplicable swarm and + equivocal generation of motions in our own brains.—3. That this + hypothesis neither involves the explanation, nor precludes the necessity, + of a mechanism and co-adequate forces in the percipient, which at the more + than magic touch of the impulse from without is to create anew for itself + the correspondent object. The formation of a copy is not solved by the + mere pre-existence of an original; the copyist of Raffael’s + Transfiguration must repeat more or less perfectly the process of Raffael. + It would be easy to explain a thought from the image on the retina, and + that from the geometry of light, if this very light did not present the + very same difficulty. We might as rationally chant the Brahim creed of the + tortoise that supported the bear, that supported the elephant, that + supported the world, to the tune of “This is the house that Jack built.” + The sic Deo placitum est we all admit as the sufficient cause, and the + divine goodness as the sufficient reason; but an answer to the Whence and + Why is no answer to the How, which alone is the physiologist’s concern. It + is a sophisma pigrum, and (as Bacon hath said) the arrogance of + pusillanimity, which lifts up the idol of a mortal’s fancy and commands us + to fall down and worship it, as a work of divine wisdom, an ancile or + palladium fallen from heaven. By the very same argument the supporters of + the Ptolemaic system might have rebuffed the Newtonian, and pointing to + the sky with self-complacent grin <a href="#linknote-26" id="linknoteref-26">[26]</a> have appealed to common + sense, whether the sun did not move and the earth stand still. + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX + </h2> + <p> + Is Philosophy possible as a science, and what are its conditions?—Giordano + Bruno—Literary Aristocracy, or the existence of a tacit compact + among the learned as a privileged order—The Author’s obligations to + the Mystics—to Immanuel Kant—The difference between the letter + and the spirit of Kant’s writings, and a vindication of prudence in the + teaching of Philosophy—Fichte’s attempt to complete the Critical + system—Its partial success and ultimate failure—Obligations to + Schelling; and among English writers to Saumarez. + </p> + <p> + After I had successively studied in the schools of Locke, Berkeley, + Leibnitz, and Hartley, and could find in none of them an abiding place for + my reason, I began to ask myself; is a system of philosophy; as different + from mere history and historic classification, possible? If possible, what + are its necessary conditions? I was for a while disposed to answer the + first question in the negative, and to admit that the sole practicable + employment for the human mind was to observe, to collect, and to classify. + But I soon felt, that human nature itself fought up against this wilful + resignation of intellect; and as soon did I find, that the scheme, taken + with all its consequences and cleared of all inconsistencies, was not less + impracticable than contranatural. Assume in its full extent the position, + nihil in intellectu quod non prius in sensu, assume it without Leibnitz’s + qualifying praeter ipsum intellectum, and in the same sense, in which the + position was understood by Hartley and Condillac: and then what Hume had + demonstratively deduced from this concession concerning cause and effect, + will apply with equal and crushing force to all the other eleven categorical forms +<a href="#linknote-27" id="linknoteref-27">[27]</a>, and +the logical functions corresponding to them. How can we make bricks +without straw;--or build without cement? We learn all things indeed by +occasion of experience; but the very facts so learned force us inward on +the antecedents, that must be presupposed in order to render experience +itself possible. The first book of Locke’s Essay, (if the supposed +error, which it labours to subvert, be not a mere thing of straw, an +absurdity which, no man ever did, or indeed ever could, believe,) is +formed on a sophisma heterozaetaeseos, and involves the old mistake of +Cum hoc: ergo, propter hoc.</p> +<p> +The term, Philosophy, defines itself as an affectionate seeking after +the truth; but Truth is the correlative of Being. This again is no way +conceivable, but by assuming as a postulate, that both are ab initio, +identical and coinherent; that intelligence and being are reciprocally +each other’s substrate. I presumed that this was a possible conception, +(i.e. that it involved no logical inconsonance,) from the length of time +during which the scholastic definition of the Supreme Being, as actus +purissimus sine ulla potentialitate, was received in the schools of +Theology, both by the Pontifician and the Reformed divines. The early +study of Plato and Plotinus, with the commentaries and the THEOLOGIA +PLATONICA of the illustrious Florentine; of Proclus, and Gemistius +Pletho; and at a later period of the De Immenso et Innumerabili and the +“De la causa, principio et uno,” of the philosopher of Nola, who could boast of a + Sir Philip Sidney and Fulke Greville among his patrons, and whom the + idolaters of Rome burnt as an atheist in the year 1600; had all + contributed to prepare my mind for the reception and welcoming of the + Cogito quia Sum, et Sum quia Cogito; a philosophy of seeming hardihood, + but certainly the most ancient, and therefore presumptively the most + natural. + </p> + <p> + Why need I be afraid? Say rather how dare I be ashamed of the Teutonic + theosophist, Jacob Behmen? Many, indeed, and gross were his delusions; and + such as furnish frequent and ample occasion for the triumph of the learned + over the poor ignorant shoemaker, who had dared think for himself. But + while we remember that these delusions were such, as might be anticipated + from his utter want of all intellectual discipline, and from his ignorance + of rational psychology, let it not be forgotten that the latter defect he + had in common with the most learned theologians of his age. Neither with + books, nor with book-learned men was he conversant. A meek and shy + quietest, his intellectual powers were never stimulated into feverous + energy by crowds of proselytes, or by the ambition of proselyting. Jacob + Behmen was an enthusiast, in the strictest sense, as not merely + distinguished, but as contra-distinguished, from a fanatic. While I in + part translate the following observations from a contemporary writer of + the Continent, let me be permitted to premise, that I might have + transcribed the substance from memoranda of my own, which were written + many years before his pamphlet was given to the world; and that I prefer + another’s words to my own, partly as a tribute due to priority of + publication; but still more from the pleasure of sympathy in a case where + coincidence only was possible. + </p> + <p> + Whoever is acquainted with the history of philosophy, during the last two + or three centuries, cannot but admit that there appears to have existed a + sort of secret and tacit compact among the learned, not to pass beyond a + certain limit in speculative science. The privilege of free thought, so + highly extolled, has at no time been held valid in actual practice, except + within this limit; and not a single stride beyond it has ever been + ventured without bringing obloquy on the transgressor. The few men of + genius among the learned class, who actually did overstep this boundary, + anxiously avoided the appearance of having so done. Therefore the true + depth of science, and the penetration to the inmost centre, from which all + the lines of knowledge diverge to their ever distant circumference, was + abandoned to the illiterate and the simple, whom unstilled yearning, and + an original ebulliency of spirit, had urged to the investigation of the + indwelling and living ground of all things. These, then, because their + names had never been enrolled in the guilds of the learned, were + persecuted by the registered livery-men as interlopers on their rights and + privileges. All without distinction were branded as fanatics and + phantasts; not only those, whose wild and exorbitant imaginations had + actually engendered only extravagant and grotesque phantasms, and whose + productions were, for the most part, poor copies and gross caricatures of + genuine inspiration; but the truly inspired likewise, the originals + themselves. And this for no other reason, but because they were the + unlearned, men of humble and obscure occupations. When, and from whom + among the literati by profession, have we ever heard the divine doxology + repeated, I thank thee, O Father! Lord of Heaven and Earth! because thou + hast hid these things from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them + unto babes <a href="#linknote-28" id="linknoteref-28">[28]</a>. + No; the haughty priests of learning not only banished from the schools and + marts of science all who had dared draw living waters from the fountain, + but drove them out of the very Temple, which mean time the buyers, and + sellers, and money-changers were suffered to make a den of thieves. + </p> + <p> + And yet it would not be easy to discover any substantial ground for this + contemptuous pride in those literati, who have most distinguished + themselves by their scorn of Behmen, Thaulerus, George Fox, and others; + unless it be, that they could write orthographically, make smooth periods, + and had the fashions of authorship almost literally at their fingers’ + ends, while the latter, in simplicity of soul, made their words immediate + echoes of their feelings. Hence the frequency of those phrases among them, + which have been mistaken for pretences to immediate inspiration; as for + instance, “It was delivered unto me;”—“I strove not to speak;”-“I + said, I will be silent;”—“But the word was in my heart as a burning + fire;”—“and I could not forbear.” Hence too the unwillingness to + give offence; hence the foresight, and the dread of the clamours, which + would be raised against them, so frequently avowed in the writings of + these men, and expressed, as was natural, in the words of the only book, + with which they were familiar <a href="#linknote-29" id="linknoteref-29">[29]</a>. “Woe is me that I +am become a man of strife, and a man of contention,--I love peace: the +souls of men are dear unto me: yet because I seek for light every one +of them doth curse me!” O! + it requires deeper feeling, and a stronger imagination, than belong to + most of those, to whom reasoning and fluent expression have been as a + trade learnt in boyhood, to conceive with what might, with what inward + strivings and commotion, the perception of a new and vital truth takes + possession of an uneducated man of genius. His meditations are almost + inevitably employed on the eternal, or the everlasting; for “the world is + not his friend, nor the world’s law.” Need we then be surprised, that, + under an excitement at once so strong and so unusual, the man’s body + should sympathize with the struggles of his mind; or that he should at + times be so far deluded, as to mistake the tumultuous sensations of his + nerves, and the co-existing spectres of his fancy, as parts or symbols of + the truths which were opening on him? It has indeed been plausibly + observed, that in order to derive any advantage, or to collect any + intelligible meaning, from the writings of these ignorant Mystics, the + reader must bring with him a spirit and judgment superior to that of the + writers themselves: + </p> +<p class="pre"> + And what he brings, what needs he elsewhere seek? +</p> + <p> + —a sophism, which I fully agree with Warburton, is unworthy of + Milton; how much more so of the awful Person, in whose mouth he has placed + it? One assertion I will venture to make, as suggested by my own + experience, that there exist folios on the human understanding, and the + nature of man, which would have a far juster claim to their high rank and + celebrity, if in the whole huge volume there could be found as much + fulness of heart and intellect, as burst forth in many a simple page of + George Fox, Jacob Behmen, and even of Behmen’s commentator, the pious and + fervid William Law. + </p> + <p> + The feeling of gratitude, which I cherish toward these men, has caused me + to digress further than I had foreseen or proposed; but to have passed + them over in an historical sketch of my literary life and opinions, would + have seemed to me like the denial of a debt, the concealment of a boon. + For the writings of these Mystics acted in no slight degree to prevent my + mind from being imprisoned within the outline of any single dogmatic + system. They contributed to keep alive the heart in the head; gave me an + indistinct, yet stirring and working presentiment, that all the products + of the mere reflective faculty partook of death, and were as the rattling + twigs and sprays in winter, into which a sap was yet to be propelled from + some root to which I had not penetrated, if they were to afford my soul + either food or shelter. If they were too often a moving cloud of smoke to + me by day, yet they were always a pillar of fire throughout the night, + during my wanderings through the wilderness of doubt, and enabled me to + skirt, without crossing, the sandy deserts of utter unbelief. That the + system is capable of being converted into an irreligious Pantheism, I well + know. The Ethics of Spinoza, may, or may not, be an instance. But at no + time could I believe, that in itself and essentially it is incompatible + with religion, natural or revealed: and now I am most thoroughly persuaded + of the contrary. The writings of the illustrious sage of Koenigsberg, the + founder of the Critical Philosophy, more than any other work, at once + invigorated and disciplined my understanding. The originality, the depth, + and the compression of the thoughts; the novelty and subtlety, yet + solidity and importance of the distinctions; the adamantine chain of the + logic; and I will venture to add—(paradox as it will appear to those + who have taken their notion of Immanuel Kant from Reviewers and Frenchmen)—the + clearness and evidence, of the Critique of the Pure Reason; and Critique + of the Judgment; of the Metaphysical Elements of Natural Philosophy; and + of his Religion within the bounds of Pure Reason, took possession of me as + with the giant’s hand. After fifteen years’ familiarity with them, I still + read these and all his other productions with undiminished delight and + increasing admiration. The few passages that remained obscure to me, after + due efforts of thought, (as the chapter on original apperception,) and the + apparent contradictions which occur, I soon found were hints and + insinuations referring to ideas, which KANT either did not think it + prudent to avow, or which he considered as consistently left behind in a + pure analysis, not of human nature in toto, but of the speculative + intellect alone. Here therefore he was constrained to commence at the + point of reflection, or natural consciousness: while in his moral system + he was permitted to assume a higher ground (the autonomy of the will) as a + postulate deducible from the unconditional command, or (in the technical + language of his school) the categorical imperative, of the conscience. He + had been in imminent danger of persecution during the reign of the late + king of Prussia, that strange compound of lawless debauchery and + priest-ridden superstition: and it is probable that he had little + inclination, in his old age, to act over again the fortunes, and + hair-breadth escapes of Wolf. The expulsion of the first among Kant’s + disciples, who attempted to complete his system, from the University of + Jena, with the confiscation and prohibition of the obnoxious work by the + joint efforts of the courts of Saxony and Hanover, supplied experimental + proof, that the venerable old man’s caution was not groundless. In spite + therefore of his own declarations, I could never believe, that it was + possible for him to have meant no more by his Noumenon, or Thing in + itself, than his mere words express; or that in his own conception he + confined the whole plastic power to the forms of the intellect, leaving + for the external cause, for the materiale of our sensations, a matter + without form, which is doubtless inconceivable. I entertained doubts + likewise, whether, in his own mind, he even laid all the stress, which he + appears to do, on the moral postulates. + </p> + <p> + An idea, in the highest sense of that word, cannot be conveyed but by a + symbol; and, except in geometry, all symbols of necessity involve an + apparent contradiction. Phonaese synetoisin: and for those who could not + pierce through this symbolic husk, his writings were not intended. + Questions which cannot be fully answered without exposing the respondent + to personal danger, are not entitled to a fair answer; and yet to say this + openly, would in many cases furnish the very advantage which the adversary + is insidiously seeking after. Veracity does not consist in saying, but in + the intention of communicating, truth; and the philosopher who cannot + utter the whole truth without conveying falsehood, and at the same time, + perhaps, exciting the most malignant passions, is constrained to express + himself either mythically or equivocally. When Kant therefore was + importuned to settle the disputes of his commentators himself, by + declaring what he meant, how could he decline the honours of martyrdom + with less offence, than by simply replying, “I meant what I said, and at + the age of near fourscore, I have something else, and more important to + do, than to write a commentary on my own works.” + </p> + <p> + Fichte’s Wissenschaftslehre, or Lore of Ultimate Science, was to add the + key-stone of the arch: and by commencing with an act, instead of a thing + or substance, Fichte assuredly gave the first mortal blow to Spinozism, as + taught by Spinoza himself; and supplied the idea of a system truly + metaphysical, and of a metaphysique truly systematic: (i.e. having its + spring and principle within itself). But this fundamental idea he + overbuilt with a heavy mass of mere notions, and psychological acts of + arbitrary reflection. Thus his theory degenerated into a crude <a href="#linknote-30" id="linknoteref-30">[30]</a> + egoismus, a boastful and hyperstoic hostility to Nature, as lifeless, + godless, and altogether unholy: while his religion consisted in the + assumption of a mere Ordo ordinans, which we were permitted exoterice to + call GOD; and his ethics in an ascetic, and almost monkish, mortification + of the natural passions and desires. In Schelling’s Natur-Philosophie, and + the System des transcendentalen Idealismus, I first found a genial + coincidence with much that I had toiled out for myself, and a powerful + assistance in what I had yet to do. + </p> + <p> + I have introduced this statement, as appropriate to the narrative nature + of this sketch; yet rather in reference to the work which I have announced + in a preceding page, than to my present subject. It would be but a mere + act of justice to myself, were I to warn my future readers, than an + identity of thought, or even similarity of phrase, will not be at all + times a certain proof that the passage has been borrowed from Schelling, + or that the conceptions were originally learnt from him. In this instance, + as in the dramatic lectures of Schlegel to which I have before alluded, + from the same motive of self-defence against the charge of plagiarism, + many of the most striking resemblances, indeed all the main and + fundamental ideas, were born and matured in my mind before I had ever seen + a single page of the German Philosopher; and I might indeed affirm with + truth, before the more important works of Schelling had been written, or + at least made public. Nor is this coincidence at all to be wondered at. We + had studied in the same school; been disciplined by the same preparatory + philosophy, namely, the writings of Kant; we had both equal obligations to + the polar logic and dynamic philosophy of Giordano Bruno; and Schelling + has lately, and, as of recent acquisition, avowed that same affectionate + reverence for the labours of Behmen, and other mystics, which I had formed + at a much earlier period. The coincidence of Schelling’s system with + certain general ideas of Behmen, he declares to have been mere + coincidence; while my obligations have been more direct. He needs give to + Behmen only feelings of sympathy; while I owe him a debt of gratitude. God + forbid! that I should be suspected of a wish to enter into a rivalry with + Schelling for the honours so unequivocally his right, not only as a great + and original genius, but as the founder of the Philosophy of Nature, and + as the most successful improver of the Dynamic System <a href="#linknote-31" id="linknoteref-31">[31]</a> + which, begun by Bruno, was re-introduced (in a more philosophical form, + and freed from all its impurities and visionary accompaniments) by Kant; + in whom it was the native and necessary growth of his own system. Kant’s + followers, however, on whom (for the greater part) their master’s cloak + had fallen without, or with a very scanty portion of, his spirit, had + adopted his dynamic ideas, only as a more refined species of mechanics. + With exception of one or two fundamental ideas, which cannot be withheld + from Fichte, to Schelling we owe the completion, and the most important + victories, of this revolution in philosophy. To me it will be happiness + and honour enough, should I succeed in rendering the system itself + intelligible to my countrymen, and in the application of it to the most + awful of subjects for the most important of purposes. Whether a work is + the offspring of a man’s own spirit, and the product of original thinking, + will be discovered by those who are its sole legitimate judges, by better + tests than the mere reference to dates. For readers in general, let + whatever shall be found in this or any future work of mine, that + resembles, or coincides with, the doctrines of my German predecessor, + though contemporary, be wholly attributed to him: provided, that the + absence of distinct references to his books, which I could not at all + times make with truth as designating citations or thoughts actually + derived from him; and which, I trust, would, after this general + acknowledgment be superfluous; be not charged on me as an ungenerous + concealment or intentional plagiarism. I have not indeed (eheu! res + angusta domi!) been hitherto able to procure more than two of his books, + viz. the first volume of his collected Tracts, and his System of + Transcendental Idealism; to which, however, I must add a small pamphlet + against Fichte, the spirit of which was to my feelings painfully + incongruous with the principles, and which (with the usual allowance + afforded to an antithesis) displayed the love of wisdom rather than the + wisdom of love. I regard truth as a divine ventriloquist: I care not from + whose mouth the sounds are supposed to proceed, if only the words are + audible and intelligible. “Albeit, I must confess to be half in doubt, + whether I should bring it forth or no, it being so contrary to the eye of + the world, and the world so potent in most men’s hearts, that I shall + endanger either not to be regarded or not to be understood.” + </p> + <p> + And to conclude the subject of citation, with a cluster of citations, + which as taken from books, not in common use, may contribute to the + reader’s amusement, as a voluntary before a sermon: “Dolet mihi quidem + deliciis literarum inescatos subito jam homines adeo esse, praesertim qui + Christianos se profitentur, et legere nisi quod ad delectationem facit, + sustineant nihil: unde et discipline severiores et philosophia ipsa jam + fere prorsus etiam a doctis negliguntur. Quod quidem propositum studiorum, + nisi mature corrigitur, tam magnum rebus incommodum dabit, quam dedit + barbaries olim. Pertinax res barbaries est, fateor: sed minus potent + tamen, quam illa mollities et persuasa prudentia literarum, si ratione + caret, sapientiae virtutisque specie mortales misere circumducens. + Succedet igitur, ut arbitror, haud ita multo post, pro rusticana seculi + nostri ruditate captatrix illa communi-loquentia robur animi virilis omne, + omnem virtutem masculam, profligatura nisi cavetur.” + </p> + <p> + A too prophetic remark, which has been in fulfilment from the year 1680, + to the present 1815. By persuasa prudentia, Grynaeus means self- + complacent common sense as opposed to science and philosophic reason. + </p> + <p> + Est medius ordo, et velut equestris, ingeniorum quidem sagacium, et + commodorum rebus humanis, non tamen in primam magnitudinem patentium. + Eorum hominum, ut sic dicam, major annona est. Sedulum esse, nihil temere + loqui, assuescere labori, et imagine prudentiae et modistiae tegere + angustiores partes captus, dum exercitationem ac usum, quo isti in + civilibus rebus pollent, pro natura et magnitudine ingenii plerique + accipiunt. + </p> + <p> + “As therefore physicians are many times forced to leave such methods of + curing as themselves know to be the fittest, and being overruled by the + patient’s impatiency, are fain to try the best they can: in like sort, + considering how the case doth stand with this present age, full of tongue + and weak of brain, behold we would (if our subject permitted it) yield to + the stream thereof. That way we would be contented to prove our thesis, + which being the worse in itself, is notwithstanding now by reason of + common imbecility the fitter and likelier to be brooked.” + </p> + <p> + If this fear could be rationally entertained in the controversial age of + Hooker, under the then robust discipline of the scholastic logic, + pardonably may a writer of the present times anticipate a scanty audience + for abstrusest themes, and truths that can neither be communicated nor + received without effort of thought, as well as patience of attention. + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “Che s’io non erro al calcolar de’ punti,<br> + Par ch’ Asinina Stella a noi predomini,<br> + E’l Somaro e’l Castron si sian congiunti.<br> + Il tempo d’Apuleio piu non si nomini:<br> + Che se allora un sol huom sembrava un Asino,<br> + Mille Asini a’ miei di rassembran huomini!” +</p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X + </h2> + <p> + A chapter of digression and anecdotes, as an interlude preceding that on + the nature and genesis of the Imagination or Plastic Power—On + pedantry and pedantic expressions—Advice to young authors respecting + publication—Various anecdotes of the Author’s literary life, and the + progress of his opinions in Religion and Politics. + </p> + <p> + “Esemplastic. The word is not in Johnson, nor have I met with it + elsewhere.” Neither have, I. I constructed it myself from the Greek words, + eis en plattein, to shape into one; because, having to convey a new sense, + I thought that a new term would both aid the recollection of my meaning, + and prevent its being confounded with the usual import of the word, + imagination. “But this is pedantry!” Not necessarily so, I hope. If I am + not misinformed, pedantry consists in the use of words unsuitable to the + time, place, and company. The language of the market would be in the + schools as pedantic, though it might not be reprobated by that name, as + the language of the schools in the market. The mere man of the world, who + insists that no other terms but such as occur in common conversation + should be employed in a scientific disquisition, and with no greater + precision, is as truly a pedant as the man of letters, who either + over-rating the acquirements of his auditors, or misled by his own + familiarity with technical or scholastic terms, converses at the + wine-table with his mind fixed on his museum or laboratory; even though + the latter pedant instead of desiring his wife to make the tea should bid + her add to the quant. suff. of thea Sinensis the oxyd of hydrogen + saturated with caloric. To use the colloquial (and in truth somewhat + vulgar) metaphor, if the pedant of the cloister, and the pedant of the + lobby, both smell equally of the shop, yet the odour from the Russian + binding of good old authentic-looking folios and quartos is less annoying + than the steams from the tavern or bagnio. Nay, though the pedantry of the + scholar should betray a little ostentation, yet a well-conditioned mind + would more easily, methinks, tolerate the fox brush of learned vanity, + than the sans culotterie of a contemptuous ignorance, that assumes a merit + from mutilation in the self-consoling sneer at the pompous incumbrance of + tails. + </p> + <p> + The first lesson of philosophic discipline is to wean the student’s + attention from the degrees of things, which alone form the vocabulary of + common life, and to direct it to the kind abstracted from degree. Thus the + chemical student is taught not to be startled at disquisitions on the heat + in ice, or on latent and fixible light. In such discourse the instructor + has no other alternative than either to use old words with new meanings + (the plan adopted by Darwin in his Zoonomia;) or to introduce new terms, + after the example of Linnaeus, and the framers of the present chemical + nomenclature. The latter mode is evidently preferable, were it only that + the former demands a twofold exertion of thought in one and the same act. + For the reader, or hearer, is required not only to learn and bear in mind + the new definition; but to unlearn, and keep out of his view, the old and + habitual meaning; a far more difficult and perplexing task, and for which + the mere semblance of eschewing pedantry seems to me an inadequate + compensation. Where, indeed, it is in our power to recall an unappropriate + term that had without sufficient reason become obsolete, it is doubtless a + less evil to restore than to coin anew. Thus to express in one word all + that appertains to the perception, considered as passive and merely + recipient, I have adopted from our elder classics the word sensuous; + because sensual is not at present used, except in a bad sense, or at least + as a moral distinction; while sensitive and sensible would each convey a + different meaning. Thus too have I followed Hooker, Sanderson, Milton and + others, in designating the immediateness of any act or object of knowledge + by the word intuition, used sometimes subjectively, sometimes objectively, + even as we use the word, thought; now as the thought, or act of thinking, + and now as a thought, or the object of our reflection; and we do this + without confusion or obscurity. The very words, objective and subjective, + of such constant recurrence in the schools of yore, I have ventured to + re-introduce, because I could not so briefly or conveniently by any more + familiar terms distinguish the percipere from the percipi. Lastly, I have + cautiously discriminated the terms, the reason, and the understanding, + encouraged and confirmed by the authority of our genuine divines and + philosophers, before the Revolution. + </p> +<p class="pre"> + ———both life, and sense,<br> + Fancy and understanding; whence the soul<br> + Reason receives, and reason is her bring,<br> + Discursive or intuitive: discourse <a href="#linknote-32" id="linknoteref-32">[32]</a><br> + Is oftest yours, the latter most is ours,<br> + Differing but in degree, in kind the same.<br> +</p> + <p> + I say, that I was confirmed by authority so venerable: for I had previous + and higher motives in my own conviction of the importance, nay, of the + necessity of the distinction, as both an indispensable condition and a + vital part of all sound speculation in metaphysics, ethical or + theological. To establish this distinction was one main object of The + Friend; if even in a biography of my own literary life I can with + propriety refer to a work, which was printed rather than published, or so + published that it had been well for the unfortunate author, if it had + remained in manuscript. I have even at this time bitter cause for + remembering that, which a number of my subscribers have but a trifling + motive for forgetting. This effusion might have been spared; but I would + fain flatter myself, that the reader will be less austere than an oriental + professor of the bastinado, who during an attempt to extort per argumentum + baculinum a full confession from a culprit, interrupted his outcry of pain + by reminding him, that it was “a mere digression!” “All this noise, Sir! + is nothing to the point, and no sort of answer to my questions!” “Ah! + but,” (replied the sufferer,) “it is the most pertinent reply in nature to + your blows.” + </p> + <p> + An imprudent man of common goodness of heart cannot but wish to turn even + his imprudences to the benefit of others, as far as this is possible. If + therefore any one of the readers of this semi-narrative should be + preparing or intending a periodical work, I warn him, in the first place, + against trusting in the number of names on his subscription list. For he + cannot be certain that the names were put down by sufficient authority; + or, should that be ascertained, it still remains to be known, whether they + were not extorted by some over zealous friend’s importunity; whether the + subscriber had not yielded his name, merely from want of courage to + answer, no; and with the intention of dropping the work as soon as + possible. One gentleman procured me nearly a hundred names for THE FRIEND, + and not only took frequent opportunity to remind me of his success in his + canvass, but laboured to impress my mind with the sense of the obligation, + I was under to the subscribers; for, (as he very pertinently admonished + me,) “fifty-two shillings a year was a large sum to be bestowed on one + individual, where there were so many objects of charity with strong claims + to the assistance of the benevolent.” Of these hundred patrons ninety + threw up the publication before the fourth number, without any notice; + though it was well known to them, that in consequence of the distance, and + the slowness and irregularity of the conveyance, I was compelled to lay in + a stock of stamped paper for at least eight weeks beforehand; each sheet + of which stood me in five pence previously to its arrival at my printer’s; + though the subscription money was not to be received till the twenty-first + week after the commencement of the work; and lastly, though it was in nine + cases out of ten impracticable for me to receive the money for two or + three numbers without paying an equal sum for the postage. + </p> + <p> + In confirmation of my first caveat, I will select one fact among many. On + my list of subscribers, among a considerable number of names equally + flattering, was that of an Earl of Cork, with his address. He might as + well have been an Earl of Bottle, for aught I knew of him, who had been + content to reverence the peerage in abstracto, rather than in concretis. + Of course THE FRIEND was regularly sent as far, if I remember right, as + the eighteenth number; that is, till a fortnight before the subscription + was to be paid. And lo! just at this time I received a letter from his + Lordship, reproving me in language far more lordly than courteous for my + impudence in directing my pamphlets to him, who knew nothing of me or my + work! Seventeen or eighteen numbers of which, however, his Lordship was + pleased to retain, probably for the culinary or post-culinary conveniences + of his servants. + </p> + <p> + Secondly, I warn all others from the attempt to deviate from the ordinary + mode of publishing a work by the trade. I thought indeed, that to the + purchaser it was indifferent, whether thirty per cent of the + purchase-money went to the booksellers or to the government; and that the + convenience of receiving the work by the post at his own door would give + the preference to the latter. It is hard, I own, to have been labouring + for years, in collecting and arranging the materials; to have spent every + shilling that could be spared after the necessaries of life had been + furnished, in buying books, or in journeys for the purpose of consulting + them or of acquiring facts at the fountain head; then to buy the paper, + pay for the printing, and the like, all at least fifteen per cent beyond + what the trade would have paid; and then after all to give thirty per cent + not of the net profits, but of the gross results of the sale, to a man who + has merely to give the books shelf or warehouse room, and permit his + apprentice to hand them over the counter to those who may ask for them; + and this too copy by copy, although, if the work be on any philosophical + or scientific subject, it may be years before the edition is sold off. All + this, I confess, must seem a hardship, and one, to which the products of + industry in no other mode of exertion are subject. Yet even this is + better, far better, than to attempt in any way to unite the functions of + author and publisher. But the most prudent mode is to sell the copy-right, + at least of one or more editions, for the most that the trade will offer. + By few only can a large remuneration be expected; but fifty pounds and + ease of mind are of more real advantage to a literary man, than the chance + of five hundred with the certainty of insult and degrading anxieties. I + shall have been grievously misunderstood, if this statement should be + interpreted as written with the desire of detracting from the character of + booksellers or publishers. The individuals did not make the laws and + customs of their trade, but, as in every other trade, take them as they + find them. Till the evil can be proved to be removable, and without the + substitution of an equal or greater inconvenience, it were neither wise + nor manly even to complain of it. But to use it as a pretext for speaking, + or even for thinking, or feeling, unkindly or opprobriously of the + tradesmen, as individuals, would be something worse than unwise or even + than unmanly; it would be immoral and calumnious. My motives point in a + far different direction and to far other objects, as will be seen in the + conclusion of the chapter. + </p> + <p> + A learned and exemplary old clergyman, who many years ago went to his + reward followed by the regrets and blessings of his flock, published at + his own expense two volumes octavo, entitled, A NEW THEORY OF REDEMPTION. + The work was most severely handled in THE MONTHLY or CRITICAL REVIEW, I + forget which; and this unprovoked hostility became the good old man’s + favourite topic of conversation among his friends. “Well!” (he used to + exclaim,) “in the second edition, I shall have an opportunity of exposing + both the ignorance and the malignity of the anonymous critic.” Two or + three years however passed by without any tidings from the bookseller, who + had undertaken the printing and publication of the work, and who was + perfectly at his ease, as the author was known to be a man of large + property. At length the accounts were written for; and in the course of a + few weeks they were presented by the rider for the house, in person. My + old friend put on his spectacles, and holding the scroll with no very firm + hand, began—“Paper, so much: O moderate enough—not at all + beyond my expectation! Printing, so much: well! moderate enough! + Stitching, covers, advertisements, carriage, and so forth, so much.”—Still + nothing amiss. Selleridge (for orthography is no necessary part of a + bookseller’s literary acquirements) L3. 3s. “Bless me! only three guineas + for the what d’ye call it—the selleridge?” “No more, Sir!” replied + the rider. “Nay, but that is too moderate!” rejoined my old friend. “Only + three guineas for selling a thousand copies of a work in two volumes?” “O + Sir!” (cries the young traveller) “you have mistaken the word. There have + been none of them sold; they have been sent back from London long ago; and + this L3. 3s. is for the cellaridge, or warehouse-room in our book cellar.” + The work was in consequence preferred from the ominous cellar of the + publisher’s to the author’s garret; and, on presenting a copy to an + acquaintance, the old gentleman used to tell the anecdote with great + humour and still greater good nature. + </p> + <p> + With equal lack of worldly knowledge, I was a far more than equal sufferer + for it, at the very outset of my authorship. Toward the close of the first + year from the time, that in an inauspicious hour I left the friendly + cloisters, and the happy grove of quiet, ever honoured Jesus College, + Cambridge, I was persuaded by sundry philanthropists and Anti-polemists to + set on foot a periodical work, entitled THE WATCHMAN, that, according to + the general motto of the work, all might know the truth, and that the + truth might make us free! In order to exempt it from the stamp-tax, and + likewise to contribute as little as possible to the supposed guilt of a + war against freedom, it was to be published on every eighth day, + thirty-two pages, large octavo, closely printed, and price only + four-pence. Accordingly with a flaming prospectus,—“Knowledge is + Power,” “To cry the state of the political atmosphere,”—and so + forth, I set off on a tour to the North, from Bristol to Sheffield, for + the purpose of procuring customers, preaching by the way in most of the + great towns, as an hireless volunteer, in a blue coat and white waistcoat, + that not a rag of the woman of Babylon might be seen on me. For I was at + that time and long after, though a Trinitarian (that is ad normam + Platonis) in philosophy, yet a zealous Unitarian in religion; more + accurately, I was a Psilanthropist, one of those who believe our Lord to + have been the real son of Joseph, and who lay the main stress on the + resurrection rather than on the crucifixion. O! never can I remember those + days with either shame or regret. For I was most sincere, most + disinterested. My opinions were indeed in many and most important points + erroneous; but my heart was single. Wealth, rank, life itself then seemed + cheap to me, compared with the interests of what I believed to be the + truth, and the will of my Maker. I cannot even accuse myself of having + been actuated by vanity; for in the expansion of my enthusiasm I did not + think of myself at all. + </p> + <p> + My campaign commenced at Birmingham; and my first attack was on a rigid + Calvinist, a tallow-chandler by trade. He was a tall dingy man, in whom + length was so predominant over breadth, that he might almost have been + borrowed for a foundery poker. O that face! a face kat’ emphasin! I have + it before me at this moment. The lank, black, twine-like hair, + pingui-nitescent, cut in a straight line along the black stubble of his + thin gunpowder eye-brows, that looked like a scorched after-math from a + last week’s shaving. His coat collar behind in perfect unison, both of + colour and lustre, with the coarse yet glib cordage, which I suppose he + called his hair, and which with a bend inward at the nape of the neck,—the + only approach to flexure in his whole figure,—slunk in behind his + waistcoat; while the countenance lank, dark, very hard, and with strong + perpendicular furrows, gave me a dim notion of some one looking at me + through a used gridiron, all soot, grease, and iron! But he was one of the + thorough-bred, a true lover of liberty, and, as I was informed, had proved + to the satisfaction of many, that Mr. Pitt was one of the horns of the + second beast in THE REVELATIONS, that spake as a dragon. A person, to whom + one of my letters of recommendation had been addressed, was my introducer. + It was a new event in my life, my first stroke in the new business I had + undertaken of an author, yea, and of an author trading on his own account. + My companion after some imperfect sentences and a multitude of hums and + has abandoned the cause to his client; and I commenced an harangue of half + an hour to Phileleutheros, the tallow-chandler, varying my notes, through + the whole gamut of eloquence, from the ratiocinative to the declamatory, + and in the latter from the pathetic to the indignant. I argued, I + described, I promised, I prophesied; and beginning with the captivity of + nations I ended with the near approach of the millennium, finishing the + whole with some of my own verses describing that glorious state out of the + Religious Musings: + </p> +<p class="pre"> + ———Such delights<br> + As float to earth, permitted visitants!<br> + When in some hour of solemn jubilee<br> + The massive gates of Paradise are thrown<br> + Wide open, and forth come in fragments wild<br> + Sweet echoes of unearthly melodies,<br> + And odours snatched from beds of amaranth,<br> + And they, that from the crystal river of life<br> + Spring up on freshened wing, ambrosial gales! +</p> + <p> + My taper man of lights listened with perseverant and praiseworthy + patience, though, as I was afterwards told, on complaining of certain + gales that were not altogether ambrosial, it was a melting day with him. + “And what, Sir,” he said, after a short pause, “might the cost be?” “Only + four-pence,”—(O! how I felt the anti-climax, the abysmal bathos of + that four-pence!)—“only four-pence, Sir, each number, to be + published on every eighth day.”—“That comes to a deal of money at + the end of a year. And how much, did you say, there was to be for the + money?”—“Thirty-two pages, Sir, large octavo, closely printed.”—“Thirty + and two pages? Bless me! why except what I does in a family way on the + Sabbath, that’s more than I ever reads, Sir! all the year round. I am as + great a one, as any man in Brummagem, Sir! for liberty and truth and all + them sort of things, but as to this,—no offence, I hope, Sir,—I + must beg to be excused.” + </p> + <p> + So ended my first canvass: from causes that I shall presently mention, I + made but one other application in person. This took place at Manchester to + a stately and opulent wholesale dealer in cottons. He took my letter of + introduction, and, having perused it, measured me from head to foot and + again from foot to head, and then asked if I had any bill or invoice of + the thing. I presented my prospectus to him. He rapidly skimmed and hummed + over the first side, and still more rapidly the second and concluding + page; crushed it within his fingers and the palm of his hand; then most + deliberately and significantly rubbed and smoothed one part against the + other; and lastly putting it into his pocket turned his back on me with an + “over-run with these articles!” and so without another syllable retired + into his counting house. And, I can truly say, to my unspeakable + amusement. + </p> + <p> + This, I have said, was my second and last attempt. On returning baffled + from the first, in which I had vainly essayed to repeat the miracle of + Orpheus with the Brummagem patriot, I dined with the tradesman who had + introduced me to him. After dinner he importuned me to smoke a pipe with + him, and two or three other illuminati of the same rank. I objected, both + because I was engaged to spend the evening with a minister and his + friends, and because I had never smoked except once or twice in my + lifetime, and then it was herb tobacco mixed with Oronooko. On the + assurance, however, that the tobacco was equally mild, and seeing too that + it was of a yellow colour; not forgetting the lamentable difficulty, I + have always experienced, in saying, “No,” and in abstaining from what the + people about me were doing,—I took half a pipe, filling the lower + half of the bowl with salt. I was soon however compelled to resign it, in + consequence of a giddiness and distressful feeling in my eyes, which, as I + had drunk but a single glass of ale, must, I knew, have been the effect of + the tobacco. Soon after, deeming myself recovered, I sallied forth to my + engagement; but the walk and the fresh air brought on all the symptoms + again, and, I had scarcely entered the minister’s drawing-room, and opened + a small pacquet of letters, which he had received from Bristol for me; ere + I sank back on the sofa in a sort of swoon rather than sleep. Fortunately + I had found just time enough to inform him of the confused state of my + feelings, and of the occasion. For here and thus I lay, my face like a + wall that is white-washing, deathly pale and with the cold drops of + perspiration running down it from my forehead, while one after another + there dropped in the different gentlemen, who had been invited to meet, + and spend the evening with me, to the number of from fifteen to twenty. As + the poison of tobacco acts but for a short time, I at length awoke from + insensibility, and looked round on the party, my eyes dazzled by the + candles which had been lighted in the interim. By way of relieving my + embarrassment one of the gentlemen began the conversation, with “Have you + seen a paper to-day, Mr. Coleridge?” “Sir!” I replied, rubbing my eyes, “I + am far from convinced, that a Christian is permitted to read either + newspapers or any other works of merely political and temporary interest.” + This remark, so ludicrously inapposite to, or rather, incongruous with, + the purpose, for which I was known to have visited Birmingham, and to + assist me in which they were all then met, produced an involuntary and + general burst of laughter; and seldom indeed have I passed so many + delightful hours, as I enjoyed in that room from the moment of that laugh + till an early hour the next morning. Never, perhaps, in so mixed and + numerous a party have I since heard conversation, sustained with such + animation, enriched with such variety of information and enlivened with + such a flow of anecdote. Both then and afterwards they all joined in + dissuading me from proceeding with my scheme; assured me in the most + friendly and yet most flattering expressions, that neither was the + employment fit for me, nor I fit for the employment. Yet, if I determined + on persevering in it, they promised to exert themselves to the utmost to + procure subscribers, and insisted that I should make no more applications + in person, but carry on the canvass by proxy. The same hospitable + reception, the same dissuasion, and, that failing, the same kind exertions + in my behalf, I met with at Manchester, Derby, Nottingham, Sheffield,—indeed, + at every place in which I took up my sojourn. I often recall with + affectionate pleasure the many respectable men who interested themselves + for me, a perfect stranger to them, not a few of whom I can still name + among my friends. They will bear witness for me how opposite even then my + principles were to those of Jacobinism or even of democracy, and can + attest the strict accuracy of the statement which I have left on record in + the tenth and eleventh numbers of THE FRIEND. + </p> + <p> + From this rememberable tour I returned with nearly a thousand names on the + subscription list of THE WATCHMAN; yet more than half convinced, that + prudence dictated the abandonment of the scheme. But for this very reason + I persevered in it; for I was at that period of my life so completely + hag-ridden by the fear of being influenced by selfish motives, that to + know a mode of conduct to be the dictate of prudence was a sort of + presumptive proof to my feelings, that the contrary was the dictate of + duty. Accordingly, I commenced the work, which was announced in London by + long bills in letters larger than had ever been seen before, and which, I + have been informed, for I did not see them myself, eclipsed the glories + even of the lottery puffs. But alas! the publication of the very first + number was delayed beyond the day announced for its appearance. In the + second number an essay against fast days, with a most censurable + application of a text from Isaiah for its motto, lost me near five hundred + of my subscribers at one blow. In the two following numbers I made enemies + of all my Jacobin and democratic patrons; for, disgusted by their + infidelity, and their adoption of French morals with French psilosophy; + and perhaps thinking, that charity ought to begin nearest home; Instead of + abusing the government and the Aristocrats chiefly or entirely, as had + been expected of me, I levelled my attacks at “modern patriotism,” and + even ventured to declare my belief, that whatever the motives of ministers + might have been for the sedition, or as it was then the fashion to call + them, the gagging bills, yet the bills themselves would produce an effect + to be desired by all the true friends of freedom, as far as they should + contribute to deter men from openly declaiming on subjects, the principles + of which they had never bottomed and from “pleading to the poor and + ignorant, instead of pleading for them.” At the same time I avowed my + conviction, that national education and a concurring spread of the Gospel + were the indispensable condition of any true political melioration. Thus + by the time the seventh number was published, I had the mortification—(but + why should I say this, when in truth I cared too little for any thing that + concerned my worldly interests to be at all mortified about it?)—of + seeing the preceding numbers exposed in sundry old iron shops for a penny + a piece. At the ninth number I dropt the work. But from the London + publisher I could not obtain a shilling; he was a ——— + and set me at defiance. From other places I procured but little, and after + such delays as rendered that little worth nothing; and I should have been + inevitably thrown into jail by my Bristol printer, who refused to wait + even for a month, for a sum between eighty and ninety pounds, if the money + had not been paid for me by a man by no means affluent, a dear friend, who + attached himself to me from my first arrival at Bristol, who has continued + my friend with a fidelity unconquered by time or even by my own apparent + neglect; a friend from whom I never received an advice that was not wise, + nor a remonstrance that was not gentle and affectionate. + </p> + <p> + Conscientiously an opponent of the first revolutionary war, yet with my + eyes thoroughly opened to the true character and impotence of the + favourers of revolutionary principles in England, principles which I held + in abhorrence,—(for it was part of my political creed, that whoever + ceased to act as an individual by making himself a member of any society + not sanctioned by his Government, forfeited the rights of a citizen)—a + vehement Anti-Ministerialist, but after the invasion of Switzerland, a + more vehement Anti-Gallican, and still more intensely an Anti-Jacobin, I + retired to a cottage at Stowey, and provided for my scanty maintenance by + writing verses for a London Morning Paper. I saw plainly, that literature + was not a profession, by which I could expect to live; for I could not + disguise from myself, that, whatever my talents might or might not be in + other respects, yet they were not of the sort that could enable me to + become a popular writer; and that whatever my opinions might be in + themselves, they were almost equi-distant from all the three prominent + parties, the Pittites, the Foxites, and the Democrats. Of the unsaleable + nature of my writings I had an amusing memento one morning from our own + servant girl. For happening to rise at an earlier hour than usual, I + observed her putting an extravagant quantity of paper into the grate in + order to light the fire, and mildly checked her for her wastefulness; “La, + Sir!” (replied poor Nanny) “why, it is only Watchmen.” + </p> + <p> + I now devoted myself to poetry and to the study of ethics and psychology; + and so profound was my admiration at this time of Hartley’s ESSAY ON MAN, + that I gave his name to my first-born. In addition to the gentleman, my + neighbour, whose garden joined on to my little orchard, and the + cultivation of whose friendship had been my sole motive in choosing Stowey + for my residence, I was so fortunate as to acquire, shortly after my + settlement there, an invaluable blessing in the society and neighbourhood + of one, to whom I could look up with equal reverence, whether I regarded + him as a poet, a philosopher, or a man. His conversation extended to + almost all subjects, except physics and politics; with the latter he never + troubled himself. Yet neither my retirement nor my utter abstraction from + all the disputes of the day could secure me in those jealous times from + suspicion and obloquy, which did not stop at me, but extended to my + excellent friend, whose perfect innocence was even adduced as a proof of + his guilt. One of the many busy sycophants of that day,—(I here use + the word sycophant in its original sense, as a wretch who flatters the + prevailing party by informing against his neighbours, under pretence that + they are exporters of prohibited figs or fancies,—for the moral + application of the term it matters not which)—one of these + sycophantic law-mongrels, discoursing on the politics of the + neighbourhood, uttered the following deep remark: “As to Coleridge, there + is not so much harm in him, for he is a whirl-brain that talks whatever + comes uppermost; but that ———! he is the dark traitor. + You never hear HIM say a syllable on the subject.” + </p> + <p> + Now that the hand of Providence has disciplined all Europe into sobriety, + as men tame wild elephants, by alternate blows and caresses; now that + Englishmen of all classes are restored to their old English notions and + feelings; it will with difficulty be credited, how great an influence was + at that time possessed and exerted by the spirit of secret defamation,—(the + too constant attendant on party-zeal)—during the restless interim + from 1793 to the commencement of the Addington administration, or the year + before the truce of Amiens. For by the latter period the minds of the + partizans, exhausted by excess of stimulation and humbled by mutual + disappointment, had become languid. The same causes, that inclined the + nation to peace, disposed the individuals to reconciliation. Both parties + had found themselves in the wrong. The one had confessedly mistaken the + moral character of the revolution, and the other had miscalculated both + its moral and its physical resources. The experiment was made at the price + of great, almost, we may say, of humiliating sacrifices; and wise men + foresaw that it would fail, at least in its direct and ostensible object. + Yet it was purchased cheaply, and realized an object of equal value, and, + if possible, of still more vital importance. For it brought about a + national unanimity unexampled in our history since the reign of Elizabeth; + and Providence, never wanting to a good work when men have done their + parts, soon provided a common focus in the cause of Spain, which made us + all once more Englishmen by at once gratifying and correcting the + predilections of both parties. The sincere reverers of the throne felt the + cause of loyalty ennobled by its alliance with that of freedom; while the + honest zealots of the people could not but admit, that freedom itself + assumed a more winning form, humanized by loyalty and consecrated by + religious principle. The youthful enthusiasts who, flattered by the + morning rainbow of the French revolution, had made a boast of expatriating + their hopes and fears, now, disciplined by the succeeding storms and + sobered by increase of years, had been taught to prize and honour the + spirit of nationality as the best safeguard of national independence, and + this again as the absolute pre-requisite and necessary basis of popular + rights. + </p> + <p> + If in Spain too disappointment has nipped our too forward expectations, + yet all is not destroyed that is checked. The crop was perhaps springing + up too rank in the stalk to kern well; and there were, doubtless, symptoms + of the Gallican blight on it. If superstition and despotism have been + suffered to let in their wolvish sheep to trample and eat it down even to + the surface, yet the roots remain alive, and the second growth may prove + the stronger and healthier for the temporary interruption. At all events, + to us heaven has been just and gracious. The people of England did their + best, and have received their rewards. Long may we continue to deserve it! + Causes, which it had been too generally the habit of former statesmen to + regard as belonging to another world, are now admitted by all ranks to + have been the main agents of our success. “We fought from heaven; the + stars in their courses fought against Sisera.” If then unanimity grounded + on moral feelings has been among the least equivocal sources of our + national glory, that man deserves the esteem of his countrymen, even as + patriots, who devotes his life and the utmost efforts of his intellect to + the preservation and continuance of that unanimity by the disclosure and + establishment of principles. For by these all opinions must be ultimately + tried; and, (as the feelings of men are worthy of regard only as far as + they are the representatives of their fixed opinions,) on the knowledge of + these all unanimity, not accidental and fleeting, must be grounded. Let + the scholar, who doubts this assertion, refer only to the speeches and + writings of Edmund Burke at the commencement of the American war and + compare them with his speeches and writings at the commencement of the + French revolution. He will find the principles exactly the same and the + deductions the same; but the practical inferences almost opposite in the + one case from those drawn in the other; yet in both equally legitimate and + in both equally confirmed by the results. Whence gained he the superiority + of foresight? Whence arose the striking difference, and in most instances + even, the discrepancy between the grounds assigned by him and by those who + voted with him, on the same questions? How are we to explain the notorious + fact, that the speeches and writings of Edmund Burke are more interesting + at the present day than they were found at the time of their first + publication; while those of his illustrious confederates are either + forgotten, or exist only to furnish proofs, that the same conclusion, + which one man had deduced scientifically, may be brought out by another in + consequence of errors that luckily chanced to neutralize each other. It + would be unhandsome as a conjecture, even were it not, as it actually is, + false in point of fact to attribute this difference to the deficiency of + talent on the part of Burke’s friends, or of experience, or of historical + knowledge. The satisfactory solution is, that Edmund Burke possessed and + had sedulously sharpened that eye, which sees all things, actions, and + events, in relation to the laws that determine their existence and + circumscribe their possibility. He referred habitually to principles. He + was a scientific statesman; and therefore a seer. For every principle + contains in itself the germs of a prophecy; and, as the prophetic power is + the essential privilege of science, so the fulfilment of its oracles + supplies the outward and, (to men in general,) the only test of its claim + to the title. Wearisome as Burke’s refinements appeared to his + parliamentary auditors, yet the cultivated classes throughout Europe have + reason to be thankful, that he + </p> +<p class="pre"> + <span style="margin-left: 10%;">———went on refining,</span><br> + And thought of convincing, while they thought of dining. +</p> + <p> + Our very sign-boards, (said an illustrious friend to me,) give evidence, + that there has been a Titian in the world. In like manner, not only the + debates in parliament, not only our proclamations and state papers, but + the essays and leading paragraphs of our journals are so many + remembrancers of Edmund Burke. Of this the reader may easily convince + himself, if either by recollection or reference he will compare the + opposition newspapers at the commencement and during the five or six + following years of the French revolution with the sentiments, and grounds + of argument assumed in the same class of journals at present, and for some + years past. + </p> + <p> + Whether the spirit of jacobinism, which the writings of Burke exorcised + from the higher and from the literary classes, may not, like the ghost in + Hamlet, be heard moving and mining in the underground chambers with an + activity the more dangerous because less noisy, may admit of a question. I + have given my opinions on this point, and the grounds of them, in my + letters to judge Fletcher occasioned by his charge to the Wexford grand + jury, and published in the Courier. Be this as it may, the evil spirit of + jealousy, and with it the Cerberean whelps of feud and slander, no longer + walk their rounds, in cultivated society. + </p> + <p> + Far different were the days to which these anecdotes have carried me back. + The dark guesses of some zealous Quidnunc met with so congenial a soil in + the grave alarm of a titled Dogberry of our neighbourhood, that a spy was + actually sent down from the government pour surveillance of myself and + friend. There must have been not only abundance, but variety of these + “honourable men” at the disposal of Ministers: for this proved a very + honest fellow. After three weeks’ truly Indian perseverance in tracking + us, (for we were commonly together,) during all which time seldom were we + out of doors, but he contrived to be within hearing,—(and all the + while utterly unsuspected; how indeed could such a suspicion enter our + fancies?)—he not only rejected Sir Dogberry’s request that he would + try yet a little longer, but declared to him his belief, that both my + friend and myself were as good subjects, for aught he could discover to + the contrary, as any in His Majesty’s dominions. He had repeatedly hid + himself, he said, for hours together behind a bank at the sea-side, (our + favourite seat,) and overheard our conversation. At first he fancied, that + we were aware of our danger; for he often heard me talk of one Spy Nozy, + which he was inclined to interpret of himself, and of a remarkable feature + belonging to him; but he was speedily convinced that it was the name of a + man who had made a book and lived long ago. Our talk ran most upon books, + and we were perpetually desiring each other to look at this, and to listen + to that; but he could not catch a word about politics. Once he had joined + me on the road; (this occurred, as I was returning home alone from my + friend’s house, which was about three miles from my own cottage,) and, + passing himself off as a traveller, he had entered into conversation with + me, and talked of purpose in a democrat way in order to draw me out. The + result, it appears, not only convinced him that I was no friend of + jacobinism; but, (he added,) I had “plainly made it out to be such a silly + as well as wicked thing, that he felt ashamed though he had only put it + on.” I distinctly remembered the occurrence, and had mentioned it + immediately on my return, repeating what the traveller with his Bardolph + nose had said, with my own answer; and so little did I suspect the true + object of my “tempter ere accuser,” that I expressed with no small + pleasure my hope and belief, that the conversation had been of some + service to the poor misled malcontent. This incident therefore prevented + all doubt as to the truth of the report, which through a friendly medium + came to me from the master of the village inn, who had been ordered to + entertain the Government gentleman in his best manner, but above all to be + silent concerning such a person being in his house. At length he received + Sir Dogberry’s commands to accompany his guest at the final interview; + and, after the absolving suffrage of the gentleman honoured with the + confidence of Ministers, answered, as follows, to the following queries: + D. “Well, landlord! and what do you know of the person in question? L. I + see him often pass by with maister ——, my landlord, (that is, + the owner of the house,) and sometimes with the new-comers at Holford; but + I never said a word to him or he to me. D. But do you not know, that he + has distributed papers and hand-bills of a seditious nature among the + common people? L. No, your Honour! I never heard of such a thing. D. Have + you not seen this Mr. Coleridge, or heard of, his haranguing and talking + to knots and clusters of the inhabitants?—What are you grinning at, + Sir? L. Beg your Honour’s pardon! but I was only thinking, how they’d have + stared at him. If what I have heard be true, your Honour! they would not + have understood a word he said. When our Vicar was here, Dr. L. the master + of the great school and Canon of Windsor, there was a great dinner party + at maister’s; and one of the farmers, that was there, told us that he and + the Doctor talked real Hebrew Greek at each other for an hour together + after dinner. D. Answer the question, Sir! does he ever harangue the + people? L. I hope your Honour an’t angry with me. I can say no more than I + know. I never saw him talking with any one, but my landlord, and our + curate, and the strange gentleman. D. Has he not been seen wandering on + the hills towards the Channel, and along the shore, with books and papers + in his hand, taking charts and maps of the country? L. Why, as to that, + your Honour! I own, I have heard; I am sure, I would not wish to say ill + of any body; but it is certain, that I have heard—D. Speak out, man! + don’t be afraid, you are doing your duty to your King and Government. What + have you heard? L. Why, folks do say, your Honour! as how that he is a + Poet, and that he is going to put Quantock and all about here in print; + and as they be so much together, I suppose that the strange gentleman has + some consarn in the business.”—So ended this formidable inquisition, + the latter part of which alone requires explanation, and at the same time + entitles the anecdote to a place in my literary life. I had considered it + as a defect in the admirable poem of THE TASK, that the subject, which + gives the title to the work, was not, and indeed could not be, carried on + beyond the three or four first pages, and that, throughout the poem, the + connections are frequently awkward, and the transitions abrupt and + arbitrary. I sought for a subject, that should give equal room and freedom + for description, incident, and impassioned reflections on men, nature, and + society, yet supply in itself a natural connection to the parts, and unity + to the whole. Such a subject I conceived myself to have found in a stream, + traced from its source in the hills among the yellow-red moss and conical + glass-shaped tufts of bent, to the first break or fall, where its drops + become audible, and it begins to form a channel; thence to the peat and + turf barn, itself built of the same dark squares as it sheltered; to the + sheepfold; to the first cultivated plot of ground; to the lonely cottage + and its bleak garden won from the heath; to the hamlet, the villages, the + market-town, the manufactories, and the seaport. My walks therefore were + almost daily on the top of Quantock, and among its sloping coombes. With + my pencil and memorandum-book in my hand, I was making studies, as the + artists call them, and often moulding my thoughts into verse, with the + objects and imagery immediately before my senses. Many circumstances, evil + and good, intervened to prevent the completion of the poem, which was to + have been entitled THE BROOK. Had I finished the work, it was my purpose + in the heat of the moment to have dedicated it to our then committee of + public safety as containing the charts and maps, with which I was to have + supplied the French Government in aid of their plans of invasion. And + these too for a tract of coast that, from Clevedon to Minehead, scarcely + permits the approach of a fishing-boat! + </p> + <p> + All my experience from my first entrance into life to the present hour is + in favour of the warning maxim, that the man, who opposes in toto the + political or religious zealots of his age, is safer from their obloquy + than he who differs from them but in one or two points, or perhaps only in + degree. By that transfer of the feelings of private life into the + discussion of public questions, which is the queen bee in the hive of + party fanaticism, the partisan has more sympathy with an intemperate + opposite than with a moderate friend. We now enjoy an intermission, and + long may it continue! In addition to far higher and more important merits, + our present Bible societies and other numerous associations for national + or charitable objects, may serve perhaps to carry off the superfluous + activity and fervour of stirring minds in innocent hyperboles and the + bustle of management. But the poison-tree is not dead, though the sap may + for a season have subsided to its roots. At least let us not be lulled + into such a notion of our entire security, as not to keep watch and ward, + even on our best feelings. I have seen gross intolerance shown in support + of toleration; sectarian antipathy most obtrusively displayed in the + promotion of an undistinguishing comprehension of sects: and acts of + cruelty, (I had almost said,) of treachery, committed in furtherance of an + object vitally important to the cause of humanity; and all this by men too + of naturally kind dispositions and exemplary conduct. + </p> + <p> + The magic rod of fanaticism is preserved in the very adyta of human + nature; and needs only the re-exciting warmth of a master hand to bud + forth afresh and produce the old fruits. The horror of the Peasants’ war + in Germany, and the direful effects of the Anabaptists’ tenets, (which + differed only from those of jacobinism by the substitution of theological + for philosophical jargon,) struck all Europe for a time with affright. Yet + little more than a century was sufficient to obliterate all effective + memory of these events. The same principles with similar though less + dreadful consequences were again at work from the imprisonment of the + first Charles to the restoration of his son. The fanatic maxim of + extirpating fanaticism by persecution produced a civil war. The war ended + in the victory of the insurgents; but the temper survived, and Milton had + abundant grounds for asserting, that “Presbyter was but OLD PRIEST writ + large!” One good result, thank heaven! of this zealotry was the + re-establishment of the church. And now it might have been hoped, that the + mischievous spirit would have been bound for a season, “and a seal set + upon him, that he should deceive the nation no more.” <a href="#linknote-33" id="linknoteref-33">[33]</a> But + no! The ball of persecution was taken up with undiminished vigour by the + persecuted. The same fanatic principle that, under the solemn oath and + covenant, had turned cathedrals into stables, destroyed the rarest + trophies of art and ancestral piety, and hunted the brightest ornaments of + learning and religion into holes and corners, now marched under episcopal + banners, and, having first crowded the prisons of England, emptied its + whole vial of wrath on the miserable Covenanters of Scotland <a href="#linknote-34" id="linknoteref-34">[34]</a>. A + merciful providence at length constrained both parties to join against a + common enemy. A wise government followed; and the established church + became, and now is, not only the brightest example, but our best and only + sure bulwark, of toleration!—the true and indispensable bank against + a new inundation of persecuting zeal—Esto perpetua! + </p> + <p> + A long interval of quiet succeeded; or rather, the exhaustion had produced + a cold fit of the ague which was symptomatized by indifference among the + many, and a tendency to infidelity or scepticism in the educated classes. + At length those feelings of disgust and hatred, which for a brief while + the multitude had attached to the crimes and absurdities of sectarian and + democratic fanaticism, were transferred to the oppressive privileges of + the noblesse, and the luxury; intrigues and favouritism of the continental + courts. The same principles, dressed in the ostentatious garb of a + fashionable philosophy, once more rose triumphant and effected the French + revolution. And have we not within the last three or four years had reason + to apprehend, that the detestable maxims and correspondent measures of the + late French despotism had already bedimmed the public recollections of + democratic phrensy; had drawn off to other objects the electric force of + the feelings which had massed and upheld those recollections; and that a + favourable concurrence of occasions was alone wanting to awaken the + thunder and precipitate the lightning from the opposite quarter of the + political heaven? + </p> + <p> + In part from constitutional indolence, which in the very hey-day of hope + had kept my enthusiasm in check, but still more from the habits and + influences of a classical education and academic pursuits, scarcely had a + year elapsed from the commencement of my literary and political adventures + before my mind sank into a state of thorough disgust and despondency, both + with regard to the disputes and the parties disputant. With more than + poetic feeling I exclaimed: + </p> +<p class="pre"> + The sensual and the dark rebel in vain,<br> + Slaves by their own compulsion! In mad game<br> + They break their manacles, to wear the name<br> + Of freedom, graven on a heavier chain.<br> + O Liberty! with profitless endeavour<br> + Have I pursued thee many a weary hour;<br> + But thou nor swell’st the victor’s pomp, nor ever<br> + Didst breathe thy soul in forms of human power!<br> + <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Alike from all, howe’er they praise thee,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 10em;">(Nor prayer nor boastful name delays thee)</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 10em;">From Superstition’s harpy minions</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 10em;">And factious Blasphemy’s obscener slaves,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Thou speedest on thy cherub pinions,</span><br> + The guide of homeless winds and playmate of the waves!<br> +</p> + <p> + I retired to a cottage in Somersetshire at the foot of Quantock, and + devoted my thoughts and studies to the foundations of religion and morals. + Here I found myself all afloat. Doubts rushed in; broke upon me “from the + fountains of the great deep,” and fell “from the windows of heaven.” The + fontal truths of natural religion and the books of Revelation alike + contributed to the flood; and it was long ere my ark touched on an Ararat, + and rested. The idea of the Supreme Being appeared to me to be as + necessarily implied in all particular modes of being as the idea of + infinite space in all the geometrical figures by which space is limited. I + was pleased with the Cartesian opinion, that the idea of God is + distinguished from all other ideas by involving its reality; but I was not + wholly satisfied. I began then to ask myself, what proof I had of the + outward existence of anything? Of this sheet of paper for instance, as a + thing in itself, separate from the phaenomenon or image in my perception. + I saw, that in the nature of things such proof is impossible; and that of + all modes of being, that are not objects of the senses, the existence is + assumed by a logical necessity arising from the constitution of the mind + itself,—by the absence of all motive to doubt it, not from any + absolute contradiction in the supposition of the contrary. Still the + existence of a Being, the ground of all existence, was not yet the + existence of a moral creator, and governour. “In the position, that all + reality is either contained in the necessary being as an attribute, or + exists through him, as its ground, it remains undecided whether the + properties of intelligence and will are to be referred to the Supreme + Being in the former or only in the latter sense; as inherent attributes, + or only as consequences that have existence in other things through him <a href="#linknote-35" id="linknoteref-35">[35]</a>. + Were the latter the truth, then notwithstanding all the pre-eminence which + must be assigned to the Eternal First from the sufficiency, unity, and + independence of his being, as the dread ground of the universe, his nature + would yet fall far short of that, which we are bound to comprehend in the + idea of GOD. For, without any knowledge or determining resolve of its own, + it would only be a blind necessary ground of other things and other + spirits; and thus would be distinguished from the FATE of certain ancient + philosophers in no respect, but that of being more definitely and + intelligibly described.” + </p> + <p> + For a very long time, indeed, I could not reconcile personality with + infinity; and my head was with Spinoza, though my whole heart remained + with Paul and John. Yet there had dawned upon me, even before I had met + with the CRITIQUE OF THE PURE REASON, a certain guiding light. If the mere + intellect could make no certain discovery of a holy and intelligent first + cause, it might yet supply a demonstration, that no legitimate argument + could be drawn from the intellect against its truth. And what is this more + than St. Paul’s assertion, that by wisdom,—(more properly translated + by the powers of reasoning)—no man ever arrived at the knowledge of + God? What more than the sublimest, and probably the oldest, book on earth + has taught us, + </p> +<p class="pre"> + Silver and gold man searcheth out:<br> + Bringeth the ore out of the earth, and darkness into light.<br> +<br> + But where findeth he wisdom?<br> + Where is the place of understanding?<br> +<br> + The abyss crieth; it is not in me!<br> + Ocean echoeth back; not in me!<br> +<br> + Whence then cometh wisdom?<br> + Where dwelleth understanding?<br> +<br> + Hidden from the eyes of the living<br> + Kept secret from the fowls of heaven!<br> +<br> + Hell and death answer;<br> + We have heard the rumour thereof from afar!<br> +<br> + GOD marketh out the road to it;<br> + GOD knoweth its abiding place!<br> +<br> + He beholdeth the ends of the earth;<br> + He surveyeth what is beneath the heavens!<br> +<br> + And as he weighed out the winds, and measured the sea,<br> + And appointed laws to the rain,<br> + And a path to the thunder,<br> + A path to the flashes of the lightning!<br> +<br> + Then did he see it,<br> + And he counted it;<br> + He searched into the depth thereof,<br> + And with a line did he compass it round!<br> +<br> + But to man he said,<br> + The fear of the Lord is wisdom for thee!<br> + And to avoid evil,<br> + That is thy understanding. <a href="#linknote-36" id="linknoteref-36">[36]</a> +</p><p>I become convinced, that religion, as both the cornerstone and the +key-stone of morality, must have a moral origin; so far at least, that +the evidence of its doctrines could not, like the truths of abstract +science, be wholly independent of the will. It were therefore to be +expected, that its fundamental truth would be such as might be denied; +though only, by the fool, and even by the fool from the madness of the +heart alone! +</p><p> +The question then concerning our faith in the existence of a God, not +only as the ground of the universe by his essence, but as its maker and +judge by his wisdom and holy will, appeared to stand thus. The sciential +reason, the objects of which are purely theoretical, remains neutral, as +long as its name and semblance are not usurped by the opponents of the +doctrine. But it then becomes an effective ally by exposing the false +show of demonstration, or by evincing the equal demonstrability of the +contrary from premises equally logical <a href="#linknote-37" id="linknoteref-37">[37]</a>. The understanding meantime suggests, the + analogy of experience facilitates, the belief. Nature excites and recalls + it, as by a perpetual revelation. Our feelings almost necessitate it; and + the law of conscience peremptorily commands it. The arguments, that at all + apply to it, are in its favour; and there is nothing against it, but its + own sublimity. It could not be intellectually more evident without + becoming morally less effective; without counteracting its own end by + sacrificing the life of faith to the cold mechanism of a worth less + because compulsory assent. The belief of a God and a future state, (if a + passive acquiescence may be flattered with the name of belief,) does not + indeed always beget a good heart; but a good heart so naturally begets the + belief, that the very few exceptions must be regarded as strange anomalies + from strange and unfortunate circumstances. + </p> + <p> + From these premises I proceeded to draw the following conclusions. First, + that having once fully admitted the existence of an infinite yet + self-conscious Creator, we are not allowed to ground the irrationality of + any other article of faith on arguments which would equally prove that to + be irrational, which we had allowed to be real. Secondly, that whatever is + deducible from the admission of a self-comprehending and creative spirit + may be legitimately used in proof of the possibility of any further + mystery concerning the divine nature. Possibilitatem mysteriorum, + (Trinitatis, etc.) contra insultus Infidelium et Haereticorum a + contradictionibus vindico; haud quidem veritatem, quae revelatione sola + stabiliri possit; says Leibnitz in a letter to his Duke. He then adds the + following just and important remark. “In vain will tradition or texts of + scripture be adduced in support of a doctrine, donec clava + impossibilitatis et contradictionis e manibus horum Herculum extorta + fuerit. For the heretic will still reply, that texts, the literal sense of + which is not so much above as directly against all reason, must be + understood figuratively, as Herod is a fox, and so forth.” + </p> + <p> + These principles I held, philosophically, while in respect of revealed + religion I remained a zealous Unitarian. I considered the idea of the + Trinity a fair scholastic inference from the being of God, as a creative + intelligence; and that it was therefore entitled to the rank of an + esoteric doctrine of natural religion. But seeing in the same no practical + or moral bearing, I confined it to the schools of philosophy. The + admission of the Logos, as hypostasized (that is, neither a mere + attribute, nor a personification) in no respect removed my doubts + concerning the Incarnation and the Redemption by the cross; which I could + neither reconcile in reason with the impassiveness of the Divine Being, + nor in my moral feelings with the sacred distinction between things and + persons, the vicarious payment of a debt and the vicarious expiation of + guilt. A more thorough revolution in my philosophic principles, and a + deeper insight into my own heart, were yet wanting. Nevertheless, I cannot + doubt, that the difference of my metaphysical notions from those of + Unitarians in general contributed to my final re-conversion to the whole + truth in Christ; even as according to his own confession the books of + certain Platonic philosophers (libri quorundam Platonicorum) commenced the + rescue of St. Augustine’s faith from the same error aggravated by the far + darker accompaniment of the Manichaean heresy. + </p> + <p> + While my mind was thus perplexed, by a gracious providence for which I can + never be sufficiently grateful, the generous and munificent patronage of + Mr. Josiah, and Mr. Thomas Wedgwood enabled me to finish my education in + Germany. Instead of troubling others with my own crude notions and + juvenile compositions, I was thenceforward better employed in attempting + to store my own head with the wisdom of others. I made the best use of my + time and means; and there is therefore no period of my life on which I can + look back with such unmingled satisfaction. After acquiring a tolerable + sufficiency in the German language <a href="#linknote-38" id="linknoteref-38">[38]</a> at Ratzeburg, which + with my voyage and journey thither I have described in The Friend, I + proceeded through Hanover to Goettingen. + </p> + <p> + Here I regularly attended the lectures on physiology in the morning, and + on natural history in the evening, under Blumenbach, a name as dear to + every Englishman who has studied at that university, as it is venerable to + men of science throughout Europe! Eichhorn’s lectures on the New Testament + were repeated to me from notes by a student from Ratzeburg, a young man of + sound learning and indefatigable industry, who is now, I believe, a + professor of the oriental languages at Heidelberg. But my chief efforts + were directed towards a grounded knowledge of the German language and + literature. From professor Tychsen I received as many lessons in the + Gothic of Ulphilas as sufficed to make me acquainted with its grammar, and + the radical words of most frequent occurrence; and with the occasional + assistance of the same philosophical linguist, I read through <a href="#linknote-39" id="linknoteref-39">[39]</a> + Ottfried’s metrical paraphrase of the gospel, and the most important + remains of the Theotiscan, or the transitional state of the Teutonic + language from the Gothic to the old German of the Swabian period. Of this + period—(the polished dialect of which is analogous to that of our + Chaucer, and which leaves the philosophic student in doubt, whether the + language has not since then lost more in sweetness and flexibility, than + it has gained in condensation and copiousness)—I read with sedulous + accuracy the Minnesinger (or singers of love, the Provencal poets of the + Swabian court) and the metrical romances; and then laboured through + sufficient specimens of the master singers, their degenerate successors; + not however without occasional pleasure from the rude, yet interesting + strains of Hans Sachs, the cobbler of Nuremberg. Of this man’s genius five + folio volumes with double columns are extant in print, and nearly an equal + number in manuscript; yet the indefatigable bard takes care to inform his + readers, that he never made a shoe the less, but had virtuously reared a + large family by the labour of his hands. + </p> + <p> + In Pindar, Chaucer, Dante, Milton, and many more, we have instances of the + close connection of poetic genius with the love of liberty and of genuine + reformation. The moral sense at least will not be outraged, if I add to + the list the name of this honest shoemaker, (a trade by the by remarkable + for the production of philosophers and poets). + </p> + <p> + His poem entitled THE MORNING STAR, was the very first publication that + appeared in praise and support of Luther; and an excellent hymn of Hans + Sachs, which has been deservedly translated into almost all the European + languages, was commonly sung in the Protestant churches, whenever the + heroic reformer visited them. + </p> + <p> + In Luther’s own German writings, and eminently in his translation of the + Bible, the German language commenced. I mean the language as it is at + present written; that which is called the High-German, as contra- + distinguished from the Platt-Teutsch, the dialect on the flat or northern + countries, and from the Ober-Teutsch, the language of the middle and + Southern Germany. The High German is indeed a lingua communis, not + actually the native language of any province, but the choice and fragrancy + of all the dialects. From this cause it is at once the most copious and + the most grammatical of all the European tongues. + </p> + <p> + Within less than a century after Luther’s death the German was inundated + with pedantic barbarisms. A few volumes of this period I read through from + motives of curiosity; for it is not easy to imagine any thing more + fantastic, than the very appearance of their pages. Almost every third + word is a Latin word with a Germanized ending, the Latin portion being + always printed in Roman letters, while in the last syllable the German + character is retained. + </p> + <p> + At length, about the year 1620, Opitz arose, whose genius more nearly + resembled that of Dryden than any other poet, who at present occurs to my + recollection. In the opinion of Lessing, the most acute of critics, and of + Adelung, the first of Lexicographers, Opitz, and the Silesian poets, his + followers, not only restored the language, but still remain the models of + pure diction. A stranger has no vote on such a question; but after + repeated perusal of the works of Opitz my feelings justified the verdict, + and I seemed to have acquired from them a sort of tact for what is genuine + in the style of later writers. + </p> + <p> + Of the splendid aera, which commenced with Gellert, Klopstock, Ramler, + Lessing, and their compeers, I need not speak. With the opportunities + which I enjoyed, it would have been disgraceful not to have been familiar + with their writings; and I have already said as much as the present + biographical sketch requires concerning the German philosophers, whose + works, for the greater part, I became acquainted with at a far later + period. + </p> + <p> + Soon after my return from Germany I was solicited to undertake the + literary and political department in the Morning Post; and I acceded to + the proposal on the condition that the paper should thenceforwards be + conducted on certain fixed and announced principles, and that I should + neither be obliged nor requested to deviate from them in favour of any + party or any event. In consequence, that journal became and for many years + continued anti-ministerial indeed, yet with a very qualified approbation + of the opposition, and with far greater earnestness and zeal both + anti-Jacobin and anti-Gallican. To this hour I cannot find reason to + approve of the first war either in its commencement or its conduct. Nor + can I understand, with what reason either Mr. Perceval, (whom I am + singular enough to regard as the best and wisest minister of this reign,) + nor the present Administration, can be said to have pursued the plans of + Mr. Pitt. The love of their country, and perseverant hostility to French + principles and French ambition are indeed honourable qualities common to + them and to their predecessor. But it appears to me as clear as the + evidence of the facts can render any question of history, that the + successes of the Perceval and of the existing ministry have been owing to + their having pursued measures the direct contrary to Mr. Pitt’s. Such for + instance are the concentration of the national force to one object; the + abandonment of the subsidizing policy, so far at least as neither to goad + nor bribe the continental courts into war, till the convictions of their + subjects had rendered it a war of their own seeking; and above all, in + their manly and generous reliance on the good sense of the English people, + and on that loyalty which is linked to the very <a href="#linknote-40" id="linknoteref-40">[40]</a> heart of the nation by + the system of credit and the interdependence of property. + </p> + <p> + Be this as it may, I am persuaded that the Morning Post proved a far more + useful ally to the Government in its most important objects, in + consequence of its being generally considered as moderately anti- + ministerial, than if it had been the avowed eulogist of Mr. Pitt. The few, + whose curiosity or fancy should lead them to turn over the journals of + that date, may find a small proof of this in the frequent charges made by + the Morning Chronicle, that such and such essays or leading paragraphs had + been sent from the Treasury. The rapid and unusual increase in the sale of + the Morning Post is a sufficient pledge, that genuine impartiality with a + respectable portion of literary talent will secure the success of a + newspaper without the aid of party or ministerial patronage. But by + impartiality I mean an honest and enlightened adherence to a code of + intelligible principles previously announced, and faithfully referred to + in support of every judgment on men and events; not indiscriminate abuse, + not the indulgence of an editor’s own malignant passions, and still less, + if that be possible, a determination to make money by flattering the envy + and cupidity, the vindictive restlessness and self-conceit of the + half-witted vulgar; a determination almost fiendish, but which, I have + been informed, has been boastfully avowed by one man, the most notorious + of these mob-sycophants! From the commencement of the Addington + administration to the present day, whatever I have written in THE MORNING + POST, or (after that paper was transferred to other proprietors) in THE + COURIER, has been in defence or furtherance of the measures of Government. + </p> +<p class="pre"> + Things of this nature scarce survive that night<br> + That gives them birth; they perish in the sight;<br> + Cast by so far from after-life, that there<br> + Can scarcely aught be said, but that they were! +</p> + <p> + Yet in these labours I employed, and, in the belief of partial friends + wasted, the prime and manhood of my intellect. Most assuredly, they added + nothing to my fortune or my reputation. The industry of the week supplied + the necessities of the week. From government or the friends of government + I not only never received remuneration, nor ever expected it; but I was + never honoured with a single acknowledgment, or expression of + satisfaction. Yet the retrospect is far from painful or matter of regret. + I am not indeed silly enough to take as any thing more than a violent + hyperbole of party debate, Mr. Fox’s assertion that the late war (I trust + that the epithet is not prematurely applied) was a war produced by the + Morning Post; or I should be proud to have the words inscribed on my tomb. + As little do I regard the circumstance, that I was a specified object of + Buonaparte’s resentment during my residence in Italy in consequence of + those essays in the Morning Post during the peace of Amiens. Of this I was + warned, directly, by Baron Von Humboldt, the Prussian Plenipotentiary, who + at that time was the minister of the Prussian court at Rome; and + indirectly, through his secretary, by Cardinal Fesch himself. Nor do I lay + any greater weight on the confirming fact, that an order for my arrest was + sent from Paris, from which danger I was rescued by the kindness of a + noble Benedictine, and the gracious connivance of that good old man, the + present Pope. For the late tyrant’s vindictive appetite was omnivorous, + and preyed equally on a Duc d’Enghien <a href="#linknote-41" id="linknoteref-41">[41]</a>, and the writer of a + newspaper paragraph. Like a true vulture <a href="#linknote-42" id="linknoteref-42">[42]</a>, Napoleon with an eye + not less telescopic, and with a taste equally coarse in his ravin, could + descend from the most dazzling heights to pounce on the leveret in the + brake, or even on the field mouse amid the grass. But I do derive a + gratification from the knowledge, that my essays contributed to introduce + the practice of placing the questions and events of the day in a moral + point of view; in giving a dignity to particular measures by tracing their + policy or impolicy to permanent principles, and an interest to principles + by the application of them to individual measures. In Mr. Burke’s writings + indeed the germs of almost all political truths may be found. But I dare + assume to myself the merit of having first explicitly defined and analyzed + the nature of Jacobinism; and that in distinguishing the Jacobin from the + republican, the democrat, and the mere demagogue, I both rescued the word + from remaining a mere term of abuse, and put on their guard many honest + minds, who even in their heat of zeal against Jacobinism, admitted or + supported principles from which the worst parts of that system may be + legitimately deduced. That these are not necessary practical results of + such principles, we owe to that fortunate inconsequence of our nature, + which permits the heart to rectify the errors of the understanding. The + detailed examination of the consular Government and its pretended + constitution, and the proof given by me, that it was a consummate + despotism in masquerade, extorted a recantation even from the Morning + Chronicle, which had previously extolled this constitution as the + perfection of a wise and regulated liberty. On every great occurrence I + endeavoured to discover in past history the event, that most nearly + resembled it. I procured, wherever it was possible, the contemporary + historians, memorialists, and pamphleteers. Then fairly subtracting the + points of difference from those of likeness, as the balance favoured the + former or the latter, I conjectured that the result would be the same or + different. In the series of essays entitled “A comparison of France under + Napoleon with Rome under the first Caesars,” and in those which followed + “On the probable final restoration of the Bourbons,” I feel myself + authorized to affirm, by the effect produced on many intelligent men, + that, were the dates wanting, it might have been suspected that the essays + had been written within the last twelve months. The same plan I pursued at + the commencement of the Spanish revolution, and with the same success, + taking the war of the United Provinces with Philip II as the ground work + of the comparison. I have mentioned this from no motives of vanity, nor + even from motives of self defence, which would justify a certain degree of + egotism, especially if it be considered, how often and grossly I have been + attacked for sentiments, which I have exerted my best powers to confute + and expose, and how grievously these charges acted to my disadvantage + while I was in Malta. Or rather they would have done so, if my own + feelings had not precluded the wish of a settled establishment in that + island. But I have mentioned it from the full persuasion that, armed with + the two-fold knowledge of history and the human mind, a man will scarcely + err in his judgment concerning the sum total of any future national event, + if he have been able to procure the original documents of the past, + together with authentic accounts of the present, and if he have a + philosophic tact for what is truly important in facts, and in most + instances therefore for such facts as the dignity of history has excluded + from the volumes of our modern compilers, by the courtesy of the age + entitled historians. + </p> + <p> + To have lived in vain must be a painful thought to any man, and especially + so to him who has made literature his profession. I should therefore + rather condole than be angry with the mind, which could attribute to no + worthier feelings than those of vanity or self-love, the satisfaction + which I acknowledged myself to have enjoyed from the republication of my + political essays (either whole or as extracts) not only in many of our own + provincial papers, but in the federal journals throughout America. I + regarded it as some proof of my not having laboured altogether in vain, + that from the articles written by me shortly before and at the + commencement of the late unhappy war with America, not only the sentiments + were adopted, but in some instances the very language, in several of the + Massachusetts state papers. + </p> + <p> + But no one of these motives nor all conjointly would have impelled me to a + statement so uncomfortable to my own feelings, had not my character been + repeatedly attacked, by an unjustifiable intrusion on private life, as of + a man incorrigibly idle, and who intrusted not only with ample talents, + but favoured with unusual opportunities of improving them, had + nevertheless suffered them to rust away without any efficient exertion, + either for his own good or that of his fellow creatures. Even if the + compositions, which I have made public, and that too in a form the most + certain of an extensive circulation, though the least flattering to an + author’s self-love, had been published in books, they would have filled a + respectable number of volumes, though every passage of merely temporary + interest were omitted. My prose writings have been charged with a + disproportionate demand on the attention; with an excess of refinement in + the mode of arriving at truths; with beating the ground for that which + might have been run down by the eye; with the length and laborious + construction of my periods; in short with obscurity and the love of + paradox. But my severest critics have not pretended to have found in my + compositions triviality, or traces of a mind that shrunk from the toil of + thinking. No one has charged me with tricking out in other words the + thoughts of others, or with hashing up anew the cramben jam decies coctam + of English literature or philosophy. Seldom have I written that in a day, + the acquisition or investigation of which had not cost me the previous + labour of a month. + </p> + <p> + But are books the only channel through which the stream of intellectual + usefulness can flow? Is the diffusion of truth to be estimated by + publications; or publications by the truth, which they diffuse or at least + contain? I speak it in the excusable warmth of a mind stung by an + accusation, which has not only been advanced in reviews of the widest + circulation, not only registered in the bulkiest works of periodical + literature, but by frequency of repetition has become an admitted fact in + private literary circles, and thoughtlessly repeated by too many who call + themselves my friends, and whose own recollections ought to have suggested + a contrary testimony. Would that the criterion of a scholar’s utility were + the number and moral value of the truths, which he has been the means of + throwing into the general circulation; or the number and value of the + minds, whom by his conversation or letters, he has excited into activity, + and supplied with the germs of their after-growth! A distinguished rank + might not indeed, even then, be awarded to my exertions; but I should dare + look forward with confidence to an honourable acquittal. I should dare + appeal to the numerous and respectable audiences, which at different times + and in different places honoured my lecture rooms with their attendance, + whether the points of view from which the subjects treated of were + surveyed,—whether the grounds of my reasoning were such, as they had + heard or read elsewhere, or have since found in previous publications. I + can conscientiously declare, that the complete success of the REMORSE on + the first night of its representation did not give me as great or as + heart-felt a pleasure, as the observation that the pit and boxes were + crowded with faces familiar to me, though of individuals whose names I did + not know, and of whom I knew nothing, but that they had attended one or + other of my courses of lectures. It is an excellent though perhaps + somewhat vulgar proverb, that there are cases where a man may be as well + “in for a pound as for a penny.” To those, who from ignorance of the + serious injury I have received from this rumour of having dreamed away my + life to no purpose, injuries which I unwillingly remember at all, much + less am disposed to record in a sketch of my literary life; or to those, + who from their own feelings, or the gratification they derive from + thinking contemptuously of others, would like job’s comforters attribute + these complaints, extorted from me by the sense of wrong, to self conceit + or presumptuous vanity, I have already furnished such ample materials, + that I shall gain nothing by withholding the remainder. I will not + therefore hesitate to ask the consciences of those, who from their long + acquaintance with me and with the circumstances are best qualified to + decide or be my judges, whether the restitution of the suum cuique would + increase or detract from my literary reputation. In this exculpation I + hope to be understood as speaking of myself comparatively, and in + proportion to the claims, which others are entitled to make on my time or + my talents. By what I have effected, am I to be judged by my fellow men; + what I could have done, is a question for my own conscience. On my own + account I may perhaps have had sufficient reason to lament my deficiency + in self-control, and the neglect of concentering my powers to the + realization of some permanent work. But to verse rather than to prose, if + to either, belongs the voice of mourning for + </p> +<p class="pre"> + Keen pangs of Love, awakening as a babe<br> + Turbulent, with an outcry in the heart;<br> + And fears self-willed that shunned the eye of hope;<br> + And hope that scarce would know itself from fear;<br> + Sense of past youth, and manhood come in vain,<br> + And genius given and knowledge won in vain;<br> + And all which I had culled in wood-walks wild,<br> + And all which patient toil had reared, and all,<br> + Commune with thee had opened out—but flowers<br> + Strewed on my corpse, and borne upon my bier,<br> + In the same coffin, for the self-same grave!<br> +</p> + <p> + These will exist, for the future, I trust, only in the poetic strains, + which the feelings at the time called forth. In those only, gentle reader, + </p> +<p class="pre"> + Affectus animi varios, bellumque sequacis<br> + Perlegis invidiae, curasque revolvis inanes,<br> + Quas humilis tenero stylus olim effudit in aevo.<br> + Perlegis et lacrymas, et quod pharetratus acuta<br> + Ille puer puero fecit mihi cuspide vulnus.<br> + Omnia paulatim consumit longior aetas,<br> + Vivendoque simul morimur, rapimurque manendo.<br> + Ipse mihi collatus enim non ille videbor;<br> + Frons alia est, moresque alii, nova mentis imago,<br> + Vox aliudque sonat—Jamque observatio vitae<br> + Multa dedit—lugere nihil, ferre omnia; jamque<br> + Paulatim lacrymas rerum experientia tersit. +</p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI + </h2> + <p> + An affectionate exhortation to those who in early life feel themselves + disposed to become authors. + </p> + <p> + It was a favourite remark of the late Mr. Whitbread’s, that no man does + any thing from a single motive. The separate motives, or rather moods of + mind, which produced the preceding reflections and anecdotes have been + laid open to the reader in each separate instance. But an interest in the + welfare of those, who at the present time may be in circumstances not + dissimilar to my own at my first entrance into life, has been the constant + accompaniment, and (as it were) the under-song of all my feelings. + Whitehead exerting the prerogative of his laureateship addressed to + youthful poets a poetic Charge, which is perhaps the best, and certainly + the most interesting, of his works. With no other privilege than that of + sympathy and sincere good wishes, I would address an affectionate + exhortation to the youthful literati, grounded on my own experience. It + will be but short; for the beginning, middle, and end converge to one + charge: never pursue literature as a trade. With the exception of one + extraordinary man, I have never known an individual, least of all an + individual of genius, healthy or happy without a profession, that is, some + regular employment, which does not depend on the will of the moment, and + which can be carried on so far mechanically that an average quantum only + of health, spirits, and intellectual exertion are requisite to its + faithful discharge. Three hours of leisure, unannoyed by any alien + anxiety, and looked forward to with delight as a change and recreation, + will suffice to realize in literature a larger product of what is truly + genial, than weeks of compulsion. Money, and immediate reputation form + only an arbitrary and accidental end of literary labour. The hope of + increasing them by any given exertion will often prove a stimulant to + industry; but the necessity of acquiring them will in all works of genius + convert the stimulant into a narcotic. Motives by excess reverse their + very nature, and instead of exciting, stun and stupify the mind. For it is + one contradistinction of genius from talent, that its predominant end is + always comprised in the means; and this is one of the many points, which + establish an analogy between genius and virtue. Now though talents may + exist without genius, yet as genius cannot exist, certainly not manifest + itself, without talents, I would advise every scholar, who feels the + genial power working within him, so far to make a division between the + two, as that he should devote his talents to the acquirement of competence + in some known trade or profession, and his genius to objects of his + tranquil and unbiassed choice; while the consciousness of being actuated + in both alike by the sincere desire to perform his duty, will alike + ennoble both. “My dear young friend,” (I would say) “suppose yourself + established in any honourable occupation. From the manufactory or counting + house, from the law-court, or from having visited your last patient, you + return at evening, + </p> +<p class="pre"> + Dear tranquil time, when the sweet sense of Home<br> + Is sweetest——— +</p> + <p> + to your family, prepared for its social enjoyments, with the very + countenances of your wife and children brightened, and their voice of + welcome made doubly welcome, by the knowledge that, as far as they are + concerned, you have satisfied the demands of the day by the labour of the + day. Then, when you retire into your study, in the books on your shelves + you revisit so many venerable friends with whom you can converse. Your own + spirit scarcely less free from personal anxieties than the great minds, + that in those books are still living for you! Even your writing desk with + its blank paper and all its other implements will appear as a chain of + flowers, capable of linking your feelings as well as thoughts to events + and characters past or to come; not a chain of iron, which binds you down + to think of the future and the remote by recalling the claims and feelings + of the peremptory present. But why should I say retire? The habits of + active life and daily intercourse with the stir of the world will tend to + give you such self-command, that the presence of your family will be no + interruption. Nay, the social silence, or undisturbing voices of a wife or + sister will be like a restorative atmosphere, or soft music which moulds a + dream without becoming its object. If facts are required to prove the + possibility of combining weighty performances in literature with full and + independent employment, the works of Cicero and Xenophon among the + ancients; of Sir Thomas More, Bacon, Baxter, or to refer at once to later + and contemporary instances, Darwin and Roscoe, are at once decisive of the + question.” + </p> + <p> + But all men may not dare promise themselves a sufficiency of self- control + for the imitation of those examples: though strict scrutiny should always + be made, whether indolence, restlessness, or a vanity impatient for + immediate gratification, have not tampered with the judgment and assumed + the vizard of humility for the purposes of self- delusion. Still the + Church presents to every man of learning and genius a profession, in which + he may cherish a rational hope of being able to unite the widest schemes + of literary utility with the strictest performance of professional duties. + Among the numerous blessings of Christianity, the introduction of an + established Church makes an especial claim on the gratitude of scholars + and philosophers; in England, at least, where the principles of + Protestantism have conspired with the freedom of the government to double + all its salutary powers by the removal of its abuses. + </p> + <p> + That not only the maxims, but the grounds of a pure morality, the mere + fragments of which + </p> +<p class="pre"> + ———the lofty grave tragedians taught<br> + In chorus or iambic, teachers best<br> + Of moral prudence, with delight received<br> + In brief sententious precepts; <a href="#linknote-43" id="linknoteref-43">[43]</a> +</p> +<p> +and that the sublime truths of the divine unity and attributes, which +a Plato found most hard to learn and deemed it still more difficult to +reveal; that these should have become the almost hereditary property of +childhood and poverty, of the hovel and the workshop; that even to the +unlettered they sound as common place, is a phaenomenon, which must +withhold all but minds of the most vulgar cast from undervaluing the +services even of the pulpit and the reading desk. Yet those, who confine +the efficiency of an established Church to its public offices, can +hardly be placed in a much higher rank of intellect. That to every +parish throughout the kingdom there is transplanted a germ of +civilization; that in the remotest villages there is a nucleus, round +which the capabilities of the place may crystallize and brighten; +a model sufficiently superior to excite, yet sufficiently near to +encourage and facilitate, imitation; this, the unobtrusive, continuous +agency of a protestant church establishment, this it is, which the +patriot, and the philanthropist, who would fain unite the love of +peace with the faith in the progressive melioration of mankind, cannot +estimate at too high a price. It cannot be valued with the gold of +Ophir, with the precious onyx, or the sapphire. No mention shall be made +of coral, or of pearls: for the price of wisdom is above rubies. The +clergyman is with his parishioners and among them; he is neither in +the cloistered cell, nor in the wilderness, but a neighbour and a +family-man, whose education and rank admit him to the mansion of the +rich landholder, while his duties make him the frequent visitor of the +farmhouse and the cottage. He is, or he may become, connected, with +the families of his parish or its vicinity by marriage. And among the +instances of the blindness, or at best of the short-sightedness, which +it is the nature of cupidity to inflict, I know few more striking than +the clamours of the farmers against Church property. Whatever was not +paid to the clergyman would inevitably at the next lease be paid to the +landholder, while, as the case at present stands, the revenues of the +Church are in some sort the reversionary property of every family, that +may have a member educated for the Church, or a daughter that may marry +a clergyman. Instead of being foreclosed and immovable, it is in fact +the only species of landed property, that is essentially moving and +circulative. That there exist no inconveniences, who will pretend to +assert? But I have yet to expect the proof, that the inconveniences are +greater in this than in any other species; or that either the farmers +or the clergy would be benefited by forcing the latter to become either +Trullibers or salaried placemen. Nay, I do not hesitate to declare my +firm persuasion, that whatever reason of discontent the farmers may +assign, the true cause is this; that they may cheat the parson, but +cannot cheat the steward; and that they are disappointed, if they should +have been able to withhold only two pounds less than the legal claim, +having expected to withhold five. At all events, considered relatively +to the encouragement of learning and genius, the establishment presents +a patronage at once so effective and unburdensome, that it would be +impossible to afford the like or equal in any but a Christian and +Protestant country. There is scarce a department of human knowledge +without some bearing on the various critical, historical, philosophical +and moral truths, in which the scholar must be interested as a +clergyman; no one pursuit worthy of a man of genius, which may not be +followed without incongruity. To give the history of the Bible as a +book, would be little less than to relate the origin or first excitement +of all the literature and science, that we now possess. The very +decorum, which the profession imposes, is favourable to the best +purposes of genius, and tends to counteract its most frequent defects. +Finally, that man must be deficient in sensibility, who would not find +an incentive to emulation in the great and burning lights, which in a +long series have illustrated the church of England; who would not hear +from within an echo to the voice from their sacred shrines, +</p> +<p class="pre"> + Et Pater Aeneas et avunculus excitat Hector. +</p> +<p> +But, whatever be the profession or trade chosen, the advantages are many +and important, compared with the state of a mere literary man, who in +any degree depends on the sale of his works for the necessaries and +comforts of life. In the former a man lives in sympathy with the world, +in which he lives. At least he acquires a better and quicker tact for +the knowledge of that, with which men in general can sympathize. He +learns to manage his genius more prudently and efficaciously. His +powers and acquirements gain him likewise more real admiration; for they +surpass the legitimate expectations of others. He is something besides +an author, and is not therefore considered merely as an author. The +hearts of men are open to him, as to one of their own class; and +whether he exerts himself or not in the conversational circles of +his acquaintance, his silence is not attributed to pride, nor his +communicativeness to vanity. To these advantages I will venture to add +a superior chance of happiness in domestic life, were it only that it is +as natural for the man to be out of the circle of his household during +the day, as it is meritorious for the woman to remain for the most part +within it. But this subject involves points of consideration so numerous +and so delicate, and would not only permit, but require such ample +documents from the biography of literary men, that I now merely allude +to it in transitu. When the same circumstance has occurred at very +different times to very different persons, all of whom have some one +thing in common; there is reason to suppose that such circumstance is +not merely attributable to the persons concerned, but is in some measure +occasioned by the one point in common to them all. Instead of the +vehement and almost slanderous dehortation from marriage, which the +Misogyne, Boccaccio<a href="#linknote-44" id="linknoteref-44">[44]</a> addresses to literary + men, I would substitute the simple advice: be not merely a man of letters! + Let literature be an honourable augmentation to your arms; but not + constitute the coat, or fill the escutcheon! + </p> + <p> + To objections from conscience I can of course answer in no other way, than + by requesting the youthful objector (as I have already done on a former + occasion) to ascertain with strict self-examination, whether other + influences may not be at work; whether spirits, “not of health,” and with + whispers “not from heaven,” may not be walking in the twilight of his + consciousness. Let him catalogue his scruples, and reduce them to a + distinct intelligible form; let him be certain, that he has read with a + docile mind and favourable dispositions the best and most fundamental + works on the subject; that he has had both mind and heart opened to the + great and illustrious qualities of the many renowned characters, who had + doubted like himself, and whose researches had ended in the clear + conviction, that their doubts had been groundless, or at least in no + proportion to the counter-weight. Happy will it be for such a man, if + among his contemporaries elder than himself he should meet with one, who, + with similar powers and feelings as acute as his own, had entertained the + same scruples; had acted upon them; and who by after-research (when the + step was, alas! irretrievable, but for that very reason his research + undeniably disinterested) had discovered himself to have quarrelled with + received opinions only to embrace errors, to have left the direction + tracked out for him on the high road of honourable exertion, only to + deviate into a labyrinth, where when he had wandered till his head was + giddy, his best good fortune was finally to have found his way out again, + too late for prudence though not too late for conscience or for truth! + Time spent in such delay is time won: for manhood in the meantime is + advancing, and with it increase of knowledge, strength of judgment, and + above all, temperance of feelings. And even if these should effect no + change, yet the delay will at least prevent the final approval of the + decision from being alloyed by the inward censure of the rashness and + vanity, by which it had been precipitated. It would be a sort of + irreligion, and scarcely less than a libel on human nature to believe, + that there is any established and reputable profession or employment, in + which a man may not continue to act with honesty and honour; and doubtless + there is likewise none, which may not at times present temptations to the + contrary. But wofully will that man find himself mistaken, who imagines + that the profession of literature, or (to speak more plainly) the trade of + authorship, besets its members with fewer or with less insidious + temptations, than the Church, the law, or the different branches of + commerce. But I have treated sufficiently on this unpleasant subject in an + early chapter of this volume. I will conclude the present therefore with a + short extract from Herder, whose name I might have added to the + illustrious list of those, who have combined the successful pursuit of the + Muses, not only with the faithful discharge, but with the highest honours + and honourable emoluments of an established profession. The translation + the reader will find in a note below <a href="#linknote-45" id="linknoteref-45">[45]</a>. “Am sorgfaeltigsten, + meiden sie die Autorschaft. Zu frueh oder unmaessig gebraucht, macht sie + den Kopf wueste and das Herz leer; wenn sie auch sonst keine ueble Folgen + gaebe. Ein Mensch, der nur lieset um zu druecken, lieset wahrscheinlich + uebel; und wer jeden Gedanken, der ihm aufstosst, durch Feder and Presse + versendet, hat sie in kurzer Zeit alle versandt, und wird bald ein blosser + Diener der Druckerey, ein Buchstabensetzer werden.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII + </h2> + <p> + A chapter of requests and premonitions concerning the perusal or omission + of the chapter that follows. + </p> + <p> + In the perusal of philosophical works I have been greatly benefited by a + resolve, which, in the antithetic form and with the allowed quaintness of + an adage or maxim, I have been accustomed to word thus: until you + understand a writer’s ignorance, presume yourself ignorant of his + understanding. This golden rule of mine does, I own, resemble those of + Pythagoras in its obscurity rather than in its depth. If however the + reader will permit me to be my own Hierocles, I trust, that he will find + its meaning fully explained by the following instances. I have now before + me a treatise of a religious fanatic, full of dreams and supernatural + experiences. I see clearly the writer’s grounds, and their hollowness. I + have a complete insight into the causes, which through the medium of his + body has acted on his mind; and by application of received and ascertained + laws I can satisfactorily explain to my own reason all the strange + incidents, which the writer records of himself. And this I can do without + suspecting him of any intentional falsehood. As when in broad day-light a + man tracks the steps of a traveller, who had lost his way in a fog or by a + treacherous moonshine, even so, and with the same tranquil sense of + certainty, can I follow the traces of this bewildered visionary. I + understand his ignorance. + </p> + <p> + On the other hand, I have been re-perusing with the best energies of my + mind the TIMAEUS of Plato. Whatever I comprehend, impresses me with a + reverential sense of the author’s genius; but there is a considerable + portion of the work, to which I can attach no consistent meaning. In other + treatises of the same philosopher, intended for the average comprehensions + of men, I have been delighted with the masterly good sense, with the + perspicuity of the language, and the aptness of the inductions. I + recollect likewise, that numerous passages in this author, which I + thoroughly comprehend, were formerly no less unintelligible to me, than + the passages now in question. It would, I am aware, be quite fashionable + to dismiss them at once as Platonic jargon. But this I cannot do with + satisfaction to my own mind, because I have sought in vain for causes + adequate to the solution of the assumed inconsistency. I have no insight + into the possibility of a man so eminently wise, using words with such + half-meanings to himself, as must perforce pass into no meaning to his + readers. When in addition to the motives thus suggested by my own reason, + I bring into distinct remembrance the number and the series of great men, + who, after long and zealous study of these works had joined in honouring + the name of Plato with epithets, that almost transcend humanity, I feel, + that a contemptuous verdict on my part might argue want of modesty, but + would hardly be received by the judicious, as evidence of superior + penetration. Therefore, utterly baffled in all my attempts to understand + the ignorance of Plato, I conclude myself ignorant of his understanding. + </p> + <p> + In lieu of the various requests which the anxiety of authorship addresses + to the unknown reader, I advance but this one; that he will either pass + over the following chapter altogether, or read the whole connectedly. The + fairest part of the most beautiful body will appear deformed and + monstrous, if dissevered from its place in the organic whole. Nay, on + delicate subjects, where a seemingly trifling difference of more or less + may constitute a difference in kind, even a faithful display of the main + and supporting ideas, if yet they are separated from the forms by which + they are at once clothed and modified, may perchance present a skeleton + indeed; but a skeleton to alarm and deter. Though I might find numerous + precedents, I shall not desire the reader to strip his mind of all + prejudices, nor to keep all prior systems out of view during his + examination of the present. For in truth, such requests appear to me not + much unlike the advice given to hypochondriacal patients in Dr. Buchan’s + domestic medicine; videlicet, to preserve themselves uniformly tranquil + and in good spirits. Till I had discovered the art of destroying the + memory a parte post, without injury to its future operations, and without + detriment to the judgment, I should suppress the request as premature; and + therefore, however much I may wish to be read with an unprejudiced mind, I + do not presume to state it as a necessary condition. + </p> + <p> + The extent of my daring is to suggest one criterion, by which it may be + rationally conjectured beforehand, whether or no a reader would lose his + time, and perhaps his temper, in the perusal of this, or any other + treatise constructed on similar principles. But it would be cruelly + misinterpreted, as implying the least disrespect either for the moral or + intellectual qualities of the individuals thereby precluded. The criterion + is this: if a man receives as fundamental facts, and therefore of course + indemonstrable and incapable of further analysis, the general notions of + matter, spirit, soul, body, action, passiveness, time, space, cause and + effect, consciousness, perception, memory and habit; if he feels his mind + completely at rest concerning all these, and is satisfied, if only he can + analyse all other notions into some one or more of these supposed elements + with plausible subordination and apt arrangement: to such a mind I would + as courteously as possible convey the hint, that for him the chapter was + not written. + </p> +<p class="pre"> + Vir bonus es, doctus, prudens; ast haud tibi spiro. +</p> + <p> + For these terms do in truth include all the difficulties, which the human + mind can propose for solution. Taking them therefore in mass, and + unexamined, it required only a decent apprenticeship in logic, to draw + forth their contents in all forms and colours, as the professors of + legerdemain at our village fairs pull out ribbon after ribbon from their + mouths. And not more difficult is it to reduce them back again to their + different genera. But though this analysis is highly useful in rendering + our knowledge more distinct, it does not really add to it. It does not + increase, though it gives us a greater mastery over, the wealth which we + before possessed. For forensic purposes, for all the established + professions of society, this is sufficient. But for philosophy in its + highest sense as the science of ultimate truths, and therefore scientia + scientiarum, this mere analysis of terms is preparative only, though as a + preparative discipline indispensable. + </p> + <p> + Still less dare a favourable perusal be anticipated from the proselytes of + that compendious philosophy, which talking of mind but thinking of brick + and mortar, or other images equally abstracted from body, contrives a + theory of spirit by nicknaming matter, and in a few hours can qualify its + dullest disciples to explain the omne scibile by reducing all things to + impressions, ideas, and sensations. + </p> + <p> + But it is time to tell the truth; though it requires some courage to avow + it in an age and country, in which disquisitions on all subjects, not + privileged to adopt technical terms or scientific symbols, must be + addressed to the Public. I say then, that it is neither possible nor + necessary for all men, nor for many, to be philosophers. There is a + philosophic (and inasmuch as it is actualized by an effort of freedom, an + artificial) consciousness, which lies beneath or (as it were) behind the + spontaneous consciousness natural to all reflecting beings. As the elder + Romans distinguished their northern provinces into Cis-Alpine and + Trans-Alpine, so may we divide all the objects of human knowledge into + those on this side, and those on the other side of the spontaneous + consciousness; citra et trans conscientiam communem. The latter is + exclusively the domain of pure philosophy, which is therefore properly + entitled transcendental, in order to discriminate it at once, both from + mere reflection and representation on the one hand, and on the other from + those flights of lawless speculation which, abandoned by all distinct + consciousness, because transgressing the bounds and purposes of our + intellectual faculties, are justly condemned, as transcendent <a href="#linknote-46" id="linknoteref-46">[46]</a>. + The first range of hills, that encircles the scanty vale of human life, is + the horizon for the majority of its inhabitants. On its ridges the common + sun is born and departs. From them the stars rise, and touching them they + vanish. By the many, even this range, the natural limit and bulwark of the + vale, is but imperfectly known. Its higher ascents are too often hidden by + mists and clouds from uncultivated swamps, which few have courage or + curiosity to penetrate. To the multitude below these vapours appear, now + as the dark haunts of terrific agents, on which none may intrude with + impunity; and now all aglow, with colours not their own, they are gazed at + as the splendid palaces of happiness and power. But in all ages there have + been a few, who measuring and sounding the rivers of the vale at the feet + of their furthest inaccessible falls have learned, that the sources must + be far higher and far inward; a few, who even in the level streams have + detected elements, which neither the vale itself nor the surrounding + mountains contained or could supply <a href="#linknote-47" id="linknoteref-47">[47]</a>. How and whence to + these thoughts, these strong probabilities, the ascertaining vision, the + intuitive knowledge may finally supervene, can be learnt only by the fact. + I might oppose to the question the words with which <a href="#linknote-48" id="linknoteref-48">[48]</a> Plotinus supposes + Nature to answer a similar difficulty. “Should any one interrogate her, + how she works, if graciously she vouchsafe to listen and speak, she will + reply, it behoves thee not to disquiet me with interrogatories, but to + understand in silence, even as I am silent, and work without words.” + </p> + <p> + Likewise in the fifth book of the fifth Ennead, speaking of the highest + and intuitive knowledge as distinguished from the discursive, or in the + language of Wordsworth, + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “The vision and the faculty divine;” +</p> + <p> + he says: “it is not lawful to inquire from whence it sprang, as if it were + a thing subject to place and motion, for it neither approached hither, nor + again departs from hence to some other place; but it either appears to us + or it does not appear. So that we ought not to pursue it with a view of + detecting its secret source, but to watch in quiet till it suddenly shines + upon us; preparing ourselves for the blessed spectacle as the eye waits + patiently for the rising sun.” They and they only can acquire the + philosophic imagination, the sacred power of self-intuition, who within + themselves can interpret and understand the symbol, that the wings of the + air-sylph are forming within the skin of the caterpillar; those only, who + feel in their own spirits the same instinct, which impels the chrysalis of + the horned fly to leave room in its involucrum for antenna, yet to come. + They know and feel, that the potential works in them, even as the actual + works on them! In short, all the organs of sense are framed for a + corresponding world of sense; and we have it. All the organs of spirit are + framed for a correspondent world of spirit: though the latter organs are + not developed in all alike. But they exist in all, and their first + appearance discloses itself in the moral being. How else could it be, that + even worldlings, not wholly debased, will contemplate the man of simple + and disinterested goodness with contradictory feelings of pity and + respect? “Poor man! he is not made for this world.” Oh! herein they utter + a prophecy of universal fulfilment; for man must either rise or sink. + </p> + <p> + It is the essential mark of the true philosopher to rest satisfied with no + imperfect light, as long as the impossibility of attaining a fuller + knowledge has not been demonstrated. That the common consciousness itself + will furnish proofs by its own direction, that it is connected with + master-currents below the surface, I shall merely assume as a postulate + pro tempore. This having been granted, though but in expectation of the + argument, I can safely deduce from it the equal truth of my former + assertion, that philosophy cannot be intelligible to all, even of the most + learned and cultivated classes. A system, the first principle of which it + is to render the mind intuitive of the spiritual in man (i.e. of that + which lies on the other side of our natural consciousness) must needs have + a great obscurity for those, who have never disciplined and strengthened + this ulterior consciousness. It must in truth be a land of darkness, a + perfect Anti-Goshen, for men to whom the noblest treasures of their own + being are reported only through the imperfect translation of lifeless and + sightless motions. Perhaps, in great part, through words which are but the + shadows of notions; even as the notional understanding itself is but the + shadowy abstraction of living and actual truth. On the IMMEDIATE, which + dwells in every man, and on the original intuition, or absolute + affirmation of it, (which is likewise in every man, but does not in every + man rise into consciousness) all the certainty of our knowledge depends; + and this becomes intelligible to no man by the ministry of mere words from + without. The medium, by which spirits understand each other, is not the + surrounding air; but the freedom which they possess in common, as the + common ethereal element of their being, the tremulous reciprocations of + which propagate themselves even to the inmost of the soul. Where the + spirit of a man is not filled with the consciousness of freedom (were it + only from its restlessness, as of one still struggling in bondage) all + spiritual intercourse is interrupted, not only with others, but even with + himself. No wonder then, that he remains incomprehensible to himself as + well as to others. No wonder, that, in the fearful desert of his + consciousness, he wearies himself out with empty words, to which no + friendly echo answers, either from his own heart, or the heart of a fellow + being; or bewilders himself in the pursuit of notional phantoms, the mere + refractions from unseen and distant truths through the distorting medium + of his own unenlivened and stagnant understanding! To remain + unintelligible to such a mind, exclaims Schelling on a like occasion, is + honour and a good name before God and man. + </p> + <p> + The history of philosophy (the same writer observes) contains instances of + systems, which for successive generations have remained enigmatic. Such he + deems the system of Leibnitz, whom another writer (rashly I think, and + invidiously) extols as the only philosopher, who was himself deeply + convinced of his own doctrines. As hitherto interpreted, however, they + have not produced the effect, which Leibnitz himself, in a most + instructive passage, describes as the criterion of a true philosophy; + namely, that it would at once explain and collect the fragments of truth + scattered through systems apparently the most incongruous. The truth, says + he, is diffused more widely than is commonly believed; but it is often + painted, yet oftener masked, and is sometimes mutilated and sometimes, + alas! in close alliance with mischievous errors. The deeper, however, we + penetrate into the ground of things, the more truth we discover in the + doctrines of the greater number of the philosophical sects. The want of + substantial reality in the objects of the senses, according to the + sceptics; the harmonies or numbers, the prototypes and ideas, to which the + Pythagoreans and Platonists reduced all things: the ONE and ALL of + Parmenides and Plotinus, without <a href="#linknote-49" id="linknoteref-49">[49]</a> Spinozism; the + necessary connection of things according to the Stoics, reconcilable with + the spontaneity of the other schools; the vital-philosophy of the + Cabalists and Hermetists, who assumed the universality of sensation; the + substantial forms and entelechies of Aristotle and the schoolmen, together + with the mechanical solution of all particular phaenomena according to + Democritus and the recent philosophers—all these we shall find + united in one perspective central point, which shows regularity and a + coincidence of all the parts in the very object, which from every other + point of view must appear confused and distorted. The spirit of + sectarianism has been hitherto our fault, and the cause of our failures. + We have imprisoned our own conceptions by the lines, which we have drawn, + in order to exclude the conceptions of others. J’ai trouve que la plupart + des Sectes ont raison dans une bonne partie de ce qu’elles avancent, mais + non pas tant en ce qu’elles nient. + </p> + <p> + A system, which aims to deduce the memory with all the other functions of + intelligence, must of course place its first position from beyond the + memory, and anterior to it, otherwise the principle of solution would be + itself a part of the problem to be solved. Such a position therefore must, + in the first instance be demanded, and the first question will be, by what + right is it demanded? On this account I think it expedient to make some + preliminary remarks on the introduction of Postulates in philosophy. The + word postulate is borrowed from the science of mathematics <a href="#linknote-50" id="linknoteref-50">[50]</a>. In + geometry the primary construction is not demonstrated, but postulated. + This first and most simple construction in space is the point in motion, + or the line. Whether the point is moved in one and the same direction, or + whether its direction is continually changed, remains as yet undetermined. + But if the direction of the point have been determined, it is either by a + point without it, and then there arises the straight line which incloses + no space; or the direction of the point is not determined by a point + without it, and then it must flow back again on itself, that is, there + arises a cyclical line, which does enclose a space. If the straight line + be assumed as the positive, the cyclical is then the negation of the + straight. It is a line, which at no point strikes out into the straight, + but changes its direction continuously. But if the primary line be + conceived as undetermined, and the straight line as determined throughout, + then the cyclical is the third compounded of both. It is at once + undetermined and determined; undetermined through any point without, and + determined through itself. Geometry therefore supplies philosophy with the + example of a primary intuition, from which every science that lays claim + to evidence must take its commencement. The mathematician does not begin + with a demonstrable proposition, but with an intuition, a practical idea. + </p> + <p> + But here an important distinction presents itself. Philosophy is employed + on objects of the inner SENSE, and cannot, like geometry, appropriate to + every construction a correspondent outward intuition. Nevertheless, + philosophy, if it is to arrive at evidence, must proceed from the most + original construction, and the question then is, what is the most original + construction or first productive act for the inner sense. The answer to + this question depends on the direction which is given to the inner sense. + But in philosophy the inner sense cannot have its direction determined by + an outward object. To the original construction of the line I can be + compelled by a line drawn before me on the slate or on sand. The stroke + thus drawn is indeed not the line itself, but only the image or picture of + the line. It is not from it, that we first learn to know the line; but, on + the contrary, we bring this stroke to the original line generated by the + act of the imagination; otherwise we could not define it as without + breadth or thickness. Still however this stroke is the sensuous image of + the original or ideal line, and an efficient mean to excite every + imagination to the intuition of it. + </p> + <p> + It is demanded then, whether there be found any means in philosophy to + determine the direction of the inner sense, as in mathematics it is + determinable by its specific image or outward picture. Now the inner sense + has its direction determined for the greater part only by an act of + freedom. One man’s consciousness extends only to the pleasant or + unpleasant sensations caused in him by external impressions; another + enlarges his inner sense to a consciousness of forms and quantity; a third + in addition to the image is conscious of the conception or notion of the + thing; a fourth attains to a notion of his notions—he reflects on + his own reflections; and thus we may say without impropriety, that the one + possesses more or less inner sense, than the other. This more or less + betrays already, that philosophy in its first principles must have a + practical or moral, as well as a theoretical or speculative side. This + difference in degree does not exist in the mathematics. Socrates in Plato + shows, that an ignorant slave may be brought to understand and of himself + to solve the most difficult geometrical problem. Socrates drew the figures + for the slave in the sand. The disciples of the critical philosophy could + likewise (as was indeed actually done by La Forge and some other followers + of Des Cartes) represent the origin of our representations in + copper-plates; but no one has yet attempted it, and it would be utterly + useless. To an Esquimaux or New Zealander our most popular philosophy + would be wholly unintelligible. The sense, the inward organ, for it is not + yet born in him. So is there many a one among us, yes, and some who think + themselves philosophers too, to whom the philosophic organ is entirely + wanting. To such a man philosophy is a mere play of words and notions, + like a theory of music to the deaf, or like the geometry of light to the + blind. The connection of the parts and their logical dependencies may be + seen and remembered; but the whole is groundless and hollow, unsustained + by living contact, unaccompanied with any realizing intuition which exists + by and in the act that affirms its existence, which is known, because it + is, and is, because it is known. The words of Plotinus, in the assumed + person of Nature, hold true of the philosophic energy. To theoroun mou, + theoraema poiei, osper oi geometrai theorountes graphousin; all’ emon mae + graphousaes, theorousaes de, uphistantai ai ton somaton grammai. With me + the act of contemplation makes the thing contemplated, as the + geometricians contemplating describe lines correspondent; but I not + describing lines, but simply contemplating, the representative forms of + things rise up into existence. + </p> + <p> + The postulate of philosophy and at the same time the test of philosophic + capacity, is no other than the heaven-descended KNOW THYSELF! (E coelo + descendit, Gnothi seauton). And this at once practically and + speculatively. For as philosophy is neither a science of the reason or + understanding only, nor merely a science of morals, but the science of + BEING altogether, its primary ground can be neither merely speculative nor + merely practical, but both in one. All knowledge rests on the coincidence + of an object with a subject. (My readers have been warned in a former + chapter that, for their convenience as well as the writer’s, the term, + subject, is used by me in its scholastic sense as equivalent to mind or + sentient being, and as the necessary correlative of object or quicquid + objicitur menti.) For we can know that only which is true: and the truth + is universally placed in the coincidence of the thought with the thing, of + the representation with the object represented. + </p> + <p> + Now the sum of all that is merely OBJECTIVE, we will henceforth call + NATURE, confining the term to its passive and material sense, as + comprising all the phaenomena by which its existence is made known to us. + On the other hand the sum of all that is SUBJECTIVE, we may comprehend in + the name of the SELF or INTELLIGENCE. Both conceptions are in necessary + antithesis. Intelligence is conceived of as exclusively representative, + nature as exclusively represented; the one as conscious, the other as + without consciousness. Now in all acts of positive knowledge there is + required a reciprocal concurrence of both, namely of the conscious being, + and of that which is in itself unconscious. Our problem is to explain this + concurrence, its possibility and its necessity. + </p> + <p> + During the act of knowledge itself, the objective and subjective are so + instantly united, that we cannot determine to which of the two the + priority belongs. There is here no first, and no second; both are + coinstantaneous and one. While I am attempting to explain this intimate + coalition, I must suppose it dissolved. I must necessarily set out from + the one, to which therefore I give hypothetical antecedence, in order to + arrive at the other. But as there are but two factors or elements in the + problem, subject and object, and as it is left indeterminate from which of + them I should commence, there are two cases equally possible. + </p> + <p> + 1. EITHER THE OBJECTIVE IS TAKEN AS THE FIRST, AND THEN WE HAVE TO ACCOUNT + FOR THE SUPERVENTION OF THE SUBJECTIVE, WHICH COALESCES WITH IT. + </p> + <p> + The notion of the subjective is not contained in the notion of the + objective. On the contrary they mutually exclude each other. The + subjective therefore must supervene to the objective. The conception of + nature does not apparently involve the co-presence of an intelligence + making an ideal duplicate of it, that is, representing it. This desk for + instance would (according to our natural notions) be, though there should + exist no sentient being to look at it. This then is the problem of natural + philosophy. It assumes the objective or unconscious nature as the first, + and as therefore to explain how intelligence can supervene to it, or how + itself can grow into intelligence. If it should appear, that all + enlightened naturalists, without having distinctly proposed the problem to + themselves, have yet constantly moved in the line of its solution, it must + afford a strong presumption that the problem itself is founded in nature. + For if all knowledge has, as it were, two poles reciprocally required and + presupposed, all sciences must proceed from the one or the other, and must + tend toward the opposite as far as the equatorial point in which both are + reconciled and become identical. The necessary tendency therefore of all + natural philosophy is from nature to intelligence; and this, and no other + is the true ground and occasion of the instinctive striving to introduce + theory into our views of natural phaenomena. The highest perfection of + natural philosophy would consist in the perfect spiritualization of all + the laws of nature into laws of intuition and intellect. The phaenomena + (the material) most wholly disappear, and the laws alone (the formal) must + remain. Thence it comes, that in nature itself the more the principle of + law breaks forth, the more does the husk drop off, the phaenomena + themselves become more spiritual and at length cease altogether in our + consciousness. The optical phaenomena are but a geometry, the lines of + which are drawn by light, and the materiality of this light itself has + already become matter of doubt. In the appearances of magnetism all trace + of matter is lost, and of the phaenomena of gravitation, which not a few + among the most illustrious Newtonians have declared no otherwise + comprehensible than as an immediate spiritual influence, there remains + nothing but its law, the execution of which on a vast scale is the + mechanism of the heavenly motions. The theory of natural philosophy would + then be completed, when all nature was demonstrated to be identical in + essence with that, which in its highest known power exists in man as + intelligence and self-consciousness; when the heavens and the earth shall + declare not only the power of their maker, but the glory and the presence + of their God, even as he appeared to the great prophet during the vision + of the mount in the skirts of his divinity. + </p> + <p> + This may suffice to show, that even natural science, which commences with + the material phaenomenon as the reality and substance of things existing, + does yet by the necessity of theorizing unconsciously, and as it were + instinctively, end in nature as an intelligence; and by this tendency the + science of nature becomes finally natural philosophy, the one of the two + poles of fundamental science. + </p> + <p> + 2. OR THE SUBJECTIVE IS TAKEN AS THE FIRST, AND THE PROBLEM THEN IS, HOW + THERE SUPERVENES TO IT A COINCIDENT OBJECTIVE. + </p> + <p> + In the pursuit of these sciences, our success in each, depends on an + austere and faithful adherence to its own principles, with a careful + separation and exclusion of those, which appertain to the opposite + science. As the natural philosopher, who directs his views to the + objective, avoids above all things the intermixture of the subjective in + his knowledge, as for instance, arbitrary suppositions or rather + suflictions, occult qualities, spiritual agents, and the substitution of + final for efficient causes; so on the other hand, the transcendental or + intelligential philosopher is equally anxious to preclude all + interpellation of the objective into the subjective principles of his + science, as for instance the assumption of impresses or configurations in + the brain, correspondent to miniature pictures on the retina painted by + rays of light from supposed originals, which are not the immediate and + real objects of vision, but deductions from it for the purposes of + explanation. This purification of the mind is effected by an absolute and + scientific scepticism, to which the mind voluntarily determines itself for + the specific purpose of future certainty. Des Cartes who (in his + meditations) himself first, at least of the moderns, gave a beautiful + example of this voluntary doubt, this self-determined indetermination, + happily expresses its utter difference from the scepticism of vanity or + irreligion: Nec tamen in Scepticos imitabar, qui dubitant tantum ut + dubitent, et praeter incertitudinem ipsam nihil quaerunt. Nam contra totus + in eo eram ut aliquid certi reperirem <a href="#linknote-51" id="linknoteref-51">[51]</a>. Nor is it less + distinct in its motives and final aim, than in its proper objects, which + are not as in ordinary scepticism the prejudices of education and + circumstance, but those original and innate prejudices which nature + herself has planted in all men, and which to all but the philosopher are + the first principles of knowledge, and the final test of truth. + </p> + <p> + Now these essential prejudices are all reducible to the one fundamental + presumption, THAT THERE EXIST THINGS WITHOUT US. As this on the one hand + originates, neither in grounds nor arguments, and yet on the other hand + remains proof against all attempts to remove it by grounds or arguments + (naturam furca expellas tamen usque redibit;) on the one hand lays claim + to IMMEDIATE certainty as a position at once indemonstrable and + irresistible, and yet on the other hand, inasmuch as it refers to + something essentially different from ourselves, nay even in opposition to + ourselves, leaves it inconceivable how it could possibly become a part of + our immediate consciousness; (in other words how that, which ex hypothesi + is and continues to be extrinsic and alien to our being, should become a + modification of our being) the philosopher therefore compels himself to + treat this faith as nothing more than a prejudice, innate indeed and + connatural, but still a prejudice. + </p> + <p> + The other position, which not only claims but necessitates the admission + of its immediate certainty, equally for the scientific reason of the + philosopher as for the common sense of mankind at large, namely, I AM, + cannot so properly be entitled a prejudice. It is groundless indeed; but + then in the very idea it precludes all ground, and separated from the + immediate consciousness loses its whole sense and import. It is + groundless; but only because it is itself the ground of all other + certainty. Now the apparent contradiction, that the former position, + namely, the existence of things without us, which from its nature cannot + be immediately certain, should be received as blindly and as independently + of all grounds as the existence of our own being, the Transcendental + philosopher can solve only by the supposition, that the former is + unconsciously involved in the latter; that it is not only coherent but + identical, and one and the same thing with our own immediate self + consciousness. To demonstrate this identity is the office and object of + his philosophy. + </p> + <p> + If it be said, that this is idealism, let it be remembered that it is only + so far idealism, as it is at the same time, and on that very account, the + truest and most binding realism. For wherein does the realism of mankind + properly consist? In the assertion that there exists a something without + them, what, or how, or where they know not, which occasions the objects of + their perception? Oh no! This is neither connatural nor universal. It is + what a few have taught and learned in the schools, and which the many + repeat without asking themselves concerning their own meaning. The realism + common to all mankind is far elder and lies infinitely deeper than this + hypothetical explanation of the origin of our perceptions, an explanation + skimmed from the mere surface of mechanical philosophy. It is the table + itself, which the man of common sense believes himself to see, not the + phantom of a table, from which he may argumentatively deduce the reality + of a table, which he does not see. If to destroy the reality of all, that + we actually behold, be idealism, what can be more egregiously so, than the + system of modern metaphysics, which banishes us to a land of shadows, + surrounds us with apparitions, and distinguishes truth from illusion only + by the majority of those who dream the same dream? “I asserted that the + world was mad,” exclaimed poor Lee, “and the world said, that I was mad, + and confound them, they outvoted me.” + </p> + <p> + It is to the true and original realism, that I would direct the attention. + This believes and requires neither more nor less, than the object which it + beholds or presents to itself, is the real and very object. In this sense, + however much we may strive against it, we are all collectively born + idealists, and therefore and only therefore are we at the same time + realists. But of this the philosophers of the schools know nothing, or + despise the faith as the prejudice of the ignorant vulgar, because they + live and move in a crowd of phrases and notions from which human nature + has long ago vanished. Oh, ye that reverence yourselves, and walk humbly + with the divinity in your own hearts, ye are worthy of a better + philosophy! Let the dead bury the dead, but do you preserve your human + nature, the depth of which was never yet fathomed by a philosophy made up + of notions and mere logical entities. + </p> + <p> + In the third treatise of my Logosophia, announced at the end of this + volume, I shall give (Deo volente) the demonstrations and constructions of + the Dynamic Philosophy scientifically arranged. It is, according to my + conviction, no other than the system of Pythagoras and of Plato revived + and purified from impure mixtures. Doctrina per tot manus tradita tandem + in vappam desiit! The science of arithmetic furnishes instances, that a + rule may be useful in practical application, and for the particular + purpose may be sufficiently authenticated by the result, before it has + itself been fully demonstrated. It is enough, if only it be rendered + intelligible. This will, I trust, have been effected in the following + Theses for those of my readers, who are willing to accompany me through + the following chapter, in which the results will be applied to the + deduction of the Imagination, and with it the principles of production and + of genial criticism in the fine arts. + </p> + <p> + THESIS I + </p> + <p> + Truth is correlative to being. Knowledge without a correspondent reality + is no knowledge; if we know, there must be somewhat known by us. To know + is in its very essence a verb active. + </p> + <p> + THESIS II + </p> + <p> + All truth is either mediate, that is, derived from some other truth or + truths; or immediate and original. The latter is absolute, and its formula + A. A.; the former is of dependent or conditional certainty, and + represented in the formula B. A. The certainty, which adheres in A, is + attributable to B. + </p> + <p> + SCHOLIUM. A chain without a staple, from which all the links derived their + stability, or a series without a first, has been not inaptly allegorized, + as a string of blind men, each holding the skirt of the man before him, + reaching far out of sight, but all moving without the least deviation in + one straight line. It would be naturally taken for granted, that there was + a guide at the head of the file: what if it were answered, No! Sir, the + men are without number, and infinite blindness supplies the place of + sight? + </p> + <p> + Equally inconceivable is a cycle of equal truths without a common and + central principle, which prescribes to each its proper sphere in the + system of science. That the absurdity does not so immediately strike us, + that it does not seem equally unimaginable, is owing to a surreptitious + act of the imagination, which, instinctively and without our noticing the + same, not only fills up the intervening spaces, and contemplates the cycle + (of B. C. D. E. F. etc.) as a continuous circle (A.) giving to all + collectively the unity of their common orbit; but likewise supplies, by a + sort of subintelligitur, the one central power, which renders the movement + harmonious and cyclical. + </p> + <p> + THESIS III + </p> + <p> + We are to seek therefore for some absolute truth capable of communicating + to other positions a certainty, which it has not itself borrowed; a truth + self-grounded, unconditional and known by its own light. In short, we have + to find a somewhat which is, simply because it is. In order to be such, it + must be one which is its own predicate, so far at least that all other + nominal predicates must be modes and repetitions of itself. Its existence + too must be such, as to preclude the possibility of requiring a cause or + antecedent without an absurdity. + </p> + <p> + THESIS IV + </p> + <p> + That there can be but one such principle, may be proved a priori; for were + there two or more, each must refer to some other, by which its equality is + affirmed; consequently neither would be self-established, as the + hypothesis demands. And a posteriori, it will be proved by the principle + itself when it is discovered, as involving universal antecedence in its + very conception. + </p> + <p> + SCHOLIUM. If we affirm of a board that it is blue, the predicate (blue) is + accidental, and not implied in the subject, board. If we affirm of a + circle that it is equi-radial, the predicate indeed is implied in the + definition of the subject; but the existence of the subject itself is + contingent, and supposes both a cause and a percipient. The same reasoning + will apply to the indefinite number of supposed indemonstrable truths + exempted from the profane approach of philosophic investigation by the + amiable Beattie, and other less eloquent and not more profound + inaugurators of common sense on the throne of philosophy; a fruitless + attempt, were it only that it is the two-fold function of philosophy to + reconcile reason with common sense, and to elevate common sense into + reason. + </p> + <p> + THESIS V + </p> + <p> + Such a principle cannot be any THING or OBJECT. Each thing is what it is + in consequence of some other thing. An infinite, independent <a href="#linknote-52" id="linknoteref-52">[52]</a> + thing, is no less a contradiction, than an infinite circle or a sideless + triangle. Besides a thing is that, which is capable of being an object + which itself is not the sole percipient. But an object is inconceivable + without a subject as its antithesis. Omne perceptum percipientem supponit. + </p> + <p> + But neither can the principle be found in a subject as a subject, + contra-distinguished from an object: for unicuique percipienti aliquid + objicitur perceptum. It is to be found therefore neither in object nor + subject taken separately, and consequently, as no other third is + conceivable, it must be found in that which is neither subject nor object + exclusively, but which is the identity of both. + </p> + <p> + THESIS VI + </p> + <p> + This principle, and so characterised manifests itself in the SUM or I AM; + which I shall hereafter indiscriminately express by the words spirit, + self, and self-consciousness. In this, and in this alone, object and + subject, being and knowing, are identical, each involving and supposing + the other. In other words, it is a subject which becomes a subject by the + act of constructing itself objectively to itself; but which never is an + object except for itself, and only so far as by the very same act it + becomes a subject. It may be described therefore as a perpetual + self-duplication of one and the same power into object and subject, which + presuppose each other, and can exist only as antitheses. + </p> + <p> + SCHOLIUM. If a man be asked how he knows that he is? he can only answer, + sum quia sum. But if (the absoluteness of this certainty having been + admitted) he be again asked, how he, the individual person, came to be, + then in relation to the ground of his existence, not to the ground of his + knowledge of that existence, he might reply, sum quia Deus est, or still + more philosophically, sum quia in Deo sum. + </p> + <p> + But if we elevate our conception to the absolute self, the great eternal I + AM, then the principle of being, and of knowledge, of idea, and of + reality; the ground of existence, and the ground of the knowledge of + existence, are absolutely identical, Sum quia sum <a href="#linknote-53" id="linknoteref-53">[53]</a>; I am, because I affirm + myself to be; I affirm myself to be, because I am. + </p> + <p> + THESIS VII + </p> + <p> + If then I know myself only through myself, it is contradictory to require + any other predicate of self, but that of self-consciousness. Only in the + self-consciousness of a spirit is there the required identity of object + and of representation; for herein consists the essence of a spirit, that + it is self-representative. If therefore this be the one only immediate + truth, in the certainty of which the reality of our collective knowledge + is grounded, it must follow that the spirit in all the objects which it + views, views only itself. If this could be proved, the immediate reality + of all intuitive knowledge would be assured. It has been shown, that a + spirit is that, which is its own object, yet not originally an object, but + an absolute subject for which all, itself included, may become an object. + It must therefore be an ACT; for every object is, as an object, dead, + fixed, incapable in itself of any action, and necessarily finite. Again + the spirit (originally the identity of object and subject) must in some + sense dissolve this identity, in order to be conscious of it; fit alter et + idem. But this implies an act, and it follows therefore that intelligence + or self-consciousness is impossible, except by and in a will. The + self-conscious spirit therefore is a will; and freedom must be assumed as + a ground of philosophy, and can never be deduced from it. + </p> + <p> + THESIS VIII + </p> + <p> + Whatever in its origin is objective, is likewise as such necessarily + finite. Therefore, since the spirit is not originally an object, and as + the subject exists in antithesis to an object, the spirit cannot + originally be finite. But neither can it be a subject without becoming an + object, and, as it is originally the identity of both, it can be conceived + neither as infinite nor finite exclusively, but as the most original union + of both. In the existence, in the reconciling, and the recurrence of this + contradiction consists the process and mystery of production and life. + </p> + <p> + THESIS IX + </p> + <p> + This principium commune essendi et cognoscendi, as subsisting in a WILL, + or primary ACT of self-duplication, is the mediate or indirect principle + of every science; but it is the immediate and direct principle of the + ultimate science alone, i.e. of transcendental philosophy alone. For it + must be remembered, that all these Theses refer solely to one of the two + Polar Sciences, namely, to that which commences with, and rigidly confines + itself within, the subjective, leaving the objective (as far as it is + exclusively objective) to natural philosophy, which is its opposite pole. + In its very idea therefore as a systematic knowledge of our collective + KNOWING, (scientia scientiae) it involves the necessity of some one + highest principle of knowing, as at once the source and accompanying form + in all particular acts of intellect and perception. This, it has been + shown, can be found only in the act and evolution of self-consciousness. + We are not investigating an absolute principium essendi; for then, I + admit, many valid objections might be started against our theory; but an + absolute principium cognoscendi. The result of both the sciences, or their + equatorial point, would be the principle of a total and undivided + philosophy, as, for prudential reasons, I have chosen to anticipate in the + Scholium to Thesis VI and the note subjoined. In other words, philosophy + would pass into religion, and religion become inclusive of philosophy. We + begin with the I KNOW MYSELF, in order to end with the absolute I AM. We + proceed from the SELF, in order to lose and find all self in GOD. + </p> + <p> + THESIS X + </p> + <p> + The transcendental philosopher does not inquire, what ultimate ground of + our knowledge there may lie out of our knowing, but what is the last in + our knowing itself, beyond which we cannot pass. The principle of our + knowing is sought within the sphere of our knowing. It must be some thing + therefore, which can itself be known. It is asserted only, that the act of + self-consciousness is for us the source and principle of all our possible + knowledge. Whether abstracted from us there exists any thing higher and + beyond this primary self-knowing, which is for us the form of all our + knowing must be decided by the result. + </p> + <p> + That the self-consciousness is the fixed point, to which for us all is + mortised and annexed, needs no further proof. But that the self- + consciousness may be the modification of a higher form of being, perhaps + of a higher consciousness, and this again of a yet higher, and so on in an + infinite regressus; in short, that self-consciousness may be itself + something explicable into something, which must lie beyond the possibility + of our knowledge, because the whole synthesis of our intelligence is first + formed in and through the self-consciousness, does not at all concern us + as transcendental philosophers. For to us, self-consciousness is not a + kind of being, but a kind of knowing, and that too the highest and + farthest that exists for us. It may however be shown, and has in part + already been shown earlier, that even when the Objective is assumed as the + first, we yet can never pass beyond the principle of self-consciousness. + Should we attempt it, we must be driven back from ground to ground, each + of which would cease to be a ground the moment we pressed on it. We must + be whirled down the gulf of an infinite series. But this would make our + reason baffle the end and purpose of all reason, namely, unity and system. + Or we must break off the series arbitrarily, and affirm an absolute + something that is in and of itself at once cause and effect (causa sui), + subject and object, or rather the absolute identity of both. But as this + is inconceivable, except in a self-consciousness, it follows, that even as + natural philosophers we must arrive at the same principle from which as + transcendental philosophers we set out; that is, in a self-consciousness + in which the principium essendi does not stand to the principlum + cognoscende in the relation of cause to effect, but both the one and the + other are co-inherent and identical. Thus the true system of natural + philosophy places the sole reality of things in an ABSOLUTE, which is at + once causa sui et effectus, pataer autopator, uios heautou—in the + absolute identity of subject and object, which it calls nature, and which + in its highest power is nothing else than self-conscious will or + intelligence. In this sense the position of Malebranche, that we see all + things in God, is a strict philosophical truth; and equally true is the + assertion of Hobbes, of Hartley, and of their masters in ancient Greece, + that all real knowledge supposes a prior sensation. For sensation itself + is but vision nascent, not the cause of intelligence, but intelligence + itself revealed as an earlier power in the process of self-construction. + </p> +<p class="pre"> + Makar, ilathi moi;<br> + Pater, ilathi moi<br> + Ei para kosmon,<br> + Ei para moiran<br> + Ton son ethigon!<br> +</p> + <p> + Bearing then this in mind, that intelligence is a self-development, not a + quality supervening to a substance, we may abstract from all degree, and + for the purpose of philosophic construction reduce it to kind, under the + idea of an indestructible power with two opposite and counteracting + forces, which by a metaphor borrowed from astronomy, we may call the + centrifugal and centripetal forces. The intelligence in the one tends to + objectize itself, and in the other to know itself in the object. It will + be hereafter my business to construct by a series of intuitions the + progressive schemes, that must follow from such a power with such forces, + till I arrive at the fulness of the human intelligence. For my present + purpose, I assume such a power as my principle, in order to deduce from it + a faculty, the generation, agency, and application of which form the + contents of the ensuing chapter. + </p> + <p> + In a preceding page I have justified the use of technical terms in + philosophy, whenever they tend to preclude confusion of thought, and when + they assist the memory by the exclusive singleness of their meaning more + than they may, for a short time, bewilder the attention by their + strangeness. I trust, that I have not extended this privilege beyond the + grounds on which I have claimed it; namely, the conveniency of the + scholastic phrase to distinguish the kind from all degrees, or rather to + express the kind with the abstraction of degree, as for instance multeity + instead of multitude; or secondly, for the sake of correspondence in sound + in interdependent or antithetical terms, as subject and object; or lastly, + to avoid the wearying recurrence of circumlocutions and definitions. Thus + I shall venture to use potence, in order to express a specific degree of a + power, in imitation of the Algebraists. I have even hazarded the new verb + potenziate, with its derivatives, in order to express the combination or + transfer of powers. It is with new or unusual terms, as with privileges in + courts of justice or legislature; there can be no legitimate privilege, + where there already exists a positive law adequate to the purpose; and + when there is no law in existence, the privilege is to be justified by its + accordance with the end, or final cause, of all law. Unusual and + new-coined words are doubtless an evil; but vagueness, confusion, and + imperfect conveyance of our thoughts, are a far greater. Every system, + which is under the necessity of using terms not familiarized by the + metaphysics in fashion, will be described as written in an unintelligible + style, and the author must expect the charge of having substituted learned + jargon for clear conception; while, according to the creed of our modern + philosophers, nothing is deemed a clear conception, but what is + representable by a distinct image. Thus the conceivable is reduced within + the bounds of the picturable. Hinc patet, qui fiat, ut cum + irrepraesentabile et impossibile vulgo ejusdem significatus habeantur, + conceptus tam continui, quam infiniti, a plurimis rejiciantur, quippe + quorum, secundum leges cognitionis intuitivae, repraesentatio est + impossibilis. Quanquam autem harum e non paucis scholis explosarum + notionum, praesertim prioris, causam hic non gero, maximi tamen momendi + erit monuisse. gravissimo illos errore labi, qui tam perverse argumentandi + ratione utuntur. Quicquid enim repugnat legibus intellectus et rationis, + utique est impossibile; quod autem, cum rationis purae sit objectum, + legibus cognitionis intuitivae tantummodo non subest, non item. Nam hic + dissensus inter facultatem sensitivam et intellectualem, (quarum indolem + mox exponam,) nihil indigitat, nisi, quas mens ab intellectu acceptas fert + ideas abstractas, illas in concreto exsequi et in intuitus commutare + saepenumero non posse. Haec autem reluctantia subjectiva mentitur, ut + plurimum, repugnantiam aliquam objectivam, et incautos facile fallit, + limitibus, quibus mens humana circumscribitur, pro iis habitis, quibus + ipsa rerum essentia continetur. <a href="#linknote-54" id="linknoteref-54">[54]</a> + </p> + <p> + Critics, who are most ready to bring this charge of pedantry and + unintelligibility, are the most apt to overlook the important fact, that, + besides the language of words, there is a language of spirits—(sermo + interior)—and that the former is only the vehicle of the latter. + Consequently their assurance, that they do not understand the philosophic + writer, instead of proving any thing against the philosophy, may furnish + an equal, and (caeteris paribus) even a stronger presumption against their + own philosophic talent. + </p> + <p> + Great indeed are the obstacles which an English metaphysician has to + encounter. Amongst his most respectable and intelligent judges, there will + be many who have devoted their attention exclusively to the concerns and + interests of human life, and who bring with them to the perusal of a + philosophic system an habitual aversion to all speculations, the utility + and application of which are not evident and immediate. To these I would + in the first instance merely oppose an authority, which they themselves + hold venerable, that of Lord Bacon: non inutiles Scientiae existimandae + sunt, quarum in se nullus est usus, si ingenia acuant et ordinent. + </p> + <p> + There are others, whose prejudices are still more formidable, inasmuch as + they are grounded in their moral feelings and religious principles, which + had been alarmed and shocked by the impious and pernicious tenets defended + by Hume, Priestley, and the French fatalists or necessitarians; some of + whom had perverted metaphysical reasonings to the denial of the mysteries + and indeed of all the peculiar doctrines of Christianity; and others even + to the subversion of all distinction between right and wrong. I would + request such men to consider what an eminent and successful defender of + the Christian faith has observed, that true metaphysics are nothing else + but true divinity, and that in fact the writers, who have given them such + just offence, were sophists, who had taken advantage of the general + neglect into which the science of logic has unhappily fallen, rather than + metaphysicians, a name indeed which those writers were the first to + explode as unmeaning. Secondly, I would remind them, that as long as there + are men in the world to whom the Gnothi seauton is an instinct and a + command from their own nature, so long will there be metaphysicians and + metaphysical speculations; that false metaphysics can be effectually + counteracted by true metaphysics alone; and that if the reasoning be + clear, solid and pertinent, the truth deduced can never be the less + valuable on account of the depth from which it may have been drawn. + </p> + <p> + A third class profess themselves friendly to metaphysics, and believe that + they are themselves metaphysicians. They have no objection to system or + terminology, provided it be the method and the nomenclature to which they + have been familiarized in the writings of Locke, Hume, Hartley, Condillac, + or perhaps Dr. Reid, and Professor Stewart. To objections from this cause, + it is a sufficient answer, that one main object of my attempt was to + demonstrate the vagueness or insufficiency of the terms used in the + metaphysical schools of France and Great Britain since the revolution, and + that the errors which I propose to attack cannot subsist, except as they + are concealed behind the mask of a plausible and indefinite nomenclature. + </p> + <p> + But the worst and widest impediment still remains. It is the predominance + of a popular philosophy, at once the counterfeit and the mortal enemy of + all true and manly metaphysical research. It is that corruption, + introduced by certain immethodical aphorisming eclectics, who, dismissing + not only all system, but all logical connection, pick and choose whatever + is most plausible and showy; who select, whatever words can have some + semblance of sense attached to them without the least expenditure of + thought; in short whatever may enable men to talk of what they do not + understand, with a careful avoidance of every thing that might awaken them + to a moment’s suspicion of their ignorance. This alas! is an irremediable + disease, for it brings with it, not so much an indisposition to any + particular system, but an utter loss of taste and faculty for all system + and for all philosophy. Like echoes that beget each other amongst the + mountains, the praise or blame of such men rolls in volleys long after the + report from the original blunderbuss. Sequacitas est potius et coitio quam + consensus: et tamen (quod pessimum est) pusillanimitas ista non sine + arrogantia et fastidio se offert. <a href="#linknote-55" id="linknoteref-55">[55]</a> + </p> + <p> + I shall now proceed to the nature and genesis of the Imagination; but I + must first take leave to notice, that after a more accurate perusal of Mr. + Wordsworth’s remarks on the Imagination, in his preface to the new edition + of his poems, I find that my conclusions are not so consentient with his + as, I confess, I had taken for granted. In an article contributed by me to + Mr. Southey’s Omniana, On the soul and its organs of sense, are the + following sentences. “These (the human faculties) I would arrange under + the different senses and powers: as the eye, the ear, the touch, etc.; the + imitative power, voluntary and automatic; the imagination, or shaping and + modifying power; the fancy, or the aggregative and associative power; the + understanding, or the regulative, substantiating and realizing power; the + speculative reason, vis theoretica et scientifica, or the power by which + we produce or aim to produce unity, necessity, and universality in all our + knowledge by means of principles a priori <a href="#linknote-56" id="linknoteref-56">[56]</a>; the will, or practical + reason; the faculty of choice (Germanice, Willkuehr) and (distinct both + from the moral will and the choice,) the sensation of volition, which I + have found reason to include under the head of single and double touch.” + To this, as far as it relates to the subject in question, namely the words + (the aggregative and associative power) Mr. Wordsworth’s “objection is + only that the definition is too general. To aggregate and to associate, to + evoke and to combine, belong as well to the Imagination as to the Fancy.” + I reply, that if, by the power of evoking and combining, Mr. Wordsworth + means the same as, and no more than, I meant by the aggregative and + associative, I continue to deny, that it belongs at all to the + Imagination; and I am disposed to conjecture, that he has mistaken the + copresence of Fancy with Imagination for the operation of the latter + singly. A man may work with two very different tools at the same moment; + each has its share in the work, but the work effected by each is distinct + and different. But it will probably appear in the next chapter, that + deeming it necessary to go back much further than Mr. Wordsworth’s subject + required or permitted, I have attached a meaning to both Fancy and + Imagination, which he had not in view, at least while he was writing that + preface. He will judge. Would to Heaven, I might meet with many such + readers! I will conclude with the words of Bishop Jeremy Taylor: “He to + whom all things are one, who draweth all things to one, and seeth all + things in one, may enjoy true peace and rest of spirit.” <a href="#linknote-57" id="linknoteref-57">[57]</a> + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII + </h2> + <p> + On the imagination, or esemplastic power + </p> +<p class="pre"> + O Adam, One Almighty is, from whom<br> + All things proceed, and up to him return,<br> + If not deprav’d from good, created all<br> + Such to perfection, one first matter all,<br> + Endued with various forms, various degrees<br> + Of substance, and, in things that live, of life;<br> + But more refin’d, more spiritous and pure,<br> + As nearer to him plac’d, or nearer tending,<br> + Each in their several active spheres assigu’d,<br> + Till body up to spirit work, in bounds<br> + Proportion’d to each kind. So from the root<br> + Springs lighter the green stalk, from thence the leaves<br> + More aery: last the bright consummate flower<br> + Spirits odorous breathes: flowers and their fruit,<br> + Man’s nourishment, by gradual scale sublim’d,<br> + To vital spirits aspire: to animal:<br> + To intellectual!—give both life and sense,<br> + Fancy and understanding; whence the soul<br> + REASON receives, and reason is her being,<br> + Discursive or intuitive. <a href="#linknote-58" id="linknoteref-58"> [58]</a> +</p> +<p> +“Sane dicerentur si res corporales nil nisi materiale continerent, +verissime in fluxu consistere, neque habere substantiale quicquam, +quemadmodum et Platonici olim recte agnovere.”</p> +<p> +“Hinc igitur, praeter pure mathematica et phantasiae subjecta, collegi +quaedam metaphysica solaque mente perceptibilia, esse admittenda et +massae materiali principium quoddam superius et, ut sic dicam, formale +addendum: quandoquidem omnes veritates rerum corporearum ex solis +axiomatibus logisticis et geometricis, nempe de magno et parvo, toto +et parte, figura et situ, colligi non possint; sed alia de causa et +effectu, actioneque et passione, accedere debeant, quibus ordinis +rerum rationes salventur. Id principium rerum, an entelecheian an vim +appellemus, non refert, modo meminerimus, per solam Virium notionem +intelligibiliter explicari.” <a href="#linknote-59" id="linknoteref-59">[59]</a> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + Sebomai noeron<br> + Kruphian taxin<br> + Chorei TI MESON<br> + Ou katachuthen. <a href="#linknote-60" id="linknoteref-60">[60]</a></p> + +<p> +Des Cartes, speaking as a naturalist, and in imitation of Archimedes, +said, give me matter and motion and I will construct you the universe. +We must of course understand him to have meant; I will render the +construction of the universe intelligible. In the same sense the +transcendental philosopher says; grant me a nature having two contrary +forces, the one of which tends to expand infinitely, while the other +strives to apprehend or find itself in this infinity, and I will +cause the world of intelllgences with the whole system of their +representations to rise up before you. Every other science presupposes +intelligence as already existing and complete: the philosopher +contemplates it in its growth, and as it were represents its history to +the mind from its birth to its maturity. +</p> +<p> +The venerable sage of Koenigsberg has preceded the march of this +master-thought as an effective pioneer in his essay on the introduction +of negative quantities into philosophy, published 1763. In this he +has shown, that instead of assailing the science of mathematics by +metaphysics, as Berkeley did in his ANALYST, or of sophisticating it, +as Wolf did, by the vain attempt of deducing the first principles +of geometry from supposed deeper grounds of ontology, it behoved the +metaphysician rather to examine whether the only province of knowledge, +which man has succeeded in erecting into a pure science, might not +furnish materials, or at least hints, for establishing and pacifying the +unsettled, warring, and embroiled domain of philosophy. An imitation of +the mathematical method had indeed been attempted with no better success +than attended the essay of David to wear the armour of Saul. Another +use however is possible and of far greater promise, namely, the actual +application of the positions which had so wonderfully enlarged the +discoveries of geometry, mutatis mutandis, to philosophical subjects. +Kant having briefly illustrated the utility of such an attempt in the +questions of space, motion, and infinitely small quantities, as employed +by the mathematician, proceeds to the idea of negative quantities and +the transfer of them to metaphysical investigation. Opposites, he +well observes, are of two kinds, either logical, that is, such as are +absolutely incompatible; or real, without being contradictory. The +former he denominates Nihil negativum irrepraesentabile, the connection +of which produces nonsense. A body in motion is something--Aliquid +cogitabile; but a body, at one and the same time in motion and not in +motion, is nothing, or, at most, air articulated into nonsense. But a +motory force of a body in one direction, and an equal force of the +same body in an opposite direction is not incompatible, and the +result, namely, rest, is real and representable. For the purposes of +mathematical calculus it is indifferent which force we term negative, +and which positive, and consequently we appropriate the latter to that, +which happens to be the principal object in our thoughts. Thus if a +man’s capital be ten and his debts eight, the subtraction will be the +same, whether we call the capital negative debt, or the debt negative +capital. But in as much as the latter stands practically in reference to +the former, we of course represent the sum as 10-8. It is equally clear +that two equal forces acting in opposite directions, both being finite +and each distinguished from the other by its direction only, must +neutralize or reduce each other to inaction. Now the transcendental +philosophy demands; first, that two forces should be conceived which +counteract each other by their essential nature; not only not in +consequence of the accidental direction of each, but as prior to all +direction, nay, as the primary forces from which the conditions of all +possible directions are derivative and deducible: secondly, that +these forces should be assumed to be both alike infinite, both alike +indestructible. The problem will then be to discover the result or +product of two such forces, as distinguished from the result of those +forces which are finite, and derive their difference solely from the +circumstance of their direction. When we have formed a scheme or outline +of these two different kinds of force, and of their different results, +by the process of discursive reasoning, it will then remain for us to +elevate the thesis from notional to actual, by contemplating intuitively +this one power with its two inherent indestructible yet counteracting +forces, and the results or generations to which their inter-penetration +gives existence, in the living principle and in the process of our own +self-consciousness. By what instrument this is possible the solution +itself will discover, at the same time that it will reveal to and for +whom it is possible. Non omnia possumus omnes. There is a philosophic +no less than a poetic genius, which is differenced from the highest +perfection of talent, not by degree but by kind. +</p> +<p> +The counteraction then of the two assumed forces does not depend on +their meeting from opposite directions; the power which acts in them +is indestructible; it is therefore inexhaustibly re-ebullient; and as +something must be the result of these two forces, both alike infinite, +and both alike indestructible; and as rest or neutralization cannot be +this result; no other conception is possible, but that the product must +be a tertium aliquid, or finite generation. Consequently this conception +is necessary. Now this tertium aliquid can be no other than an +inter-penetration of the counteracting powers, partaking of both. +</p> +<p> + * * * * * * +</p> +<p> +Thus far had the work been transcribed for the press, when I received +the following letter from a friend, whose practical judgment I have had +ample reason to estimate and revere, and whose taste and sensibility +preclude all the excuses which my self-love might possibly have prompted +me to set up in plea against the decision of advisers of equal good +sense, but with less tact and feeling. +</p> +<p> +“Dear C. +</p> +<p> + “You ask my opinion concerning your Chapter on the Imagination, +both as to the impressions it made on myself, and as to those which I +think it will make on the Public, i.e. that part of the public, who, +from the title of the work and from its forming a sort of introduction +to a volume of poems, are likely to constitute the great majority of +your readers. +</p> +<p> +“As to myself, and stating in the first place the effect on my +understanding, your opinions and method of argument were not only so new +to me, but so directly the reverse of all I had ever been accustomed +to consider as truth, that even if I had comprehended your premises +sufficiently to have admitted them, and had seen the necessity of your +conclusions, I should still have been in that state of mind, which in +your note in Chap. IV you have so ingeniously evolved, as the antithesis +to that in which a man is, when he makes a bull. In your own words, I +should have felt as if I had been standing on my head. +</p> +<p> +“The effect on my feelings, on the other hand, I cannot better +represent, than by supposing myself to have known only our light airy +modern chapels of ease, and then for the first time to have been placed, +and left alone, in one of our largest Gothic cathedrals in a gusty +moonlight night of autumn. ‘Now in glimmer, and now in gloom;’ often +in palpable darkness not without a chilly sensation of terror; then +suddenly emerging into broad yet visionary lights with coloured shadows +of fantastic shapes, yet all decked with holy insignia and mystic +symbols; and ever and anon coming out full upon pictures and stone-work +images of great men, with whose names I was familiar, but which looked +upon me with countenances and an expression, the most dissimilar to all +I had been in the habit of connecting with those names. Those whom I had +been taught to venerate as almost super-human in magnitude of intellect, +I found perched in little fret-work niches, as grotesque dwarfs; while +the grotesques, in my hitherto belief, stood guarding the high altar +with all the characters of apotheosis. In short, what I had supposed +substances were thinned away into shadows, while everywhere shadows were +deepened into substances: +</p> +<p class="pre"> + If substance might be call’d that shadow seem’d,<br> + For each seem’d either! +</p> +<p> +“Yet after all, I could not but repeat the lines which you had quoted +from a MS. poem of your own in the FRIEND, and applied to a work of Mr. +Wordsworth’s though with a few of the words altered: +</p> +<p class="pre"> + <span style="margin-left: 10em;">------An Orphic tale indeed,</span><br> + A tale obscure of high and passionate thoughts<br> + To a strange music chanted! +</p> +<p> +“Be assured, however, that I look forward anxiously to your great book +on the CONSTRUCTIVE PHILOSOPHY, which you have promised and announced: +and that I will do my best to understand it. Only I will not promise to +descend into the dark cave of Trophonius with you, there to rub my +own eyes, in order to make the sparks and figured flashes, which I am +required to see. +</p> +<p> +“So much for myself. But as for the Public I do not hesitate a moment in +advising and urging you to withdraw the Chapter from the present +work, and to reserve it for your announced treatises on the Logos or +communicative intellect in Man and Deity. First, because imperfectly as +I understand the present Chapter, I see clearly that you have done too +much, and yet not enough. You have been obliged to omit so many links, +from the necessity of compression, that what remains, looks (if I may +recur to my former illustration) like the fragments of the winding steps +of an old ruined tower. Secondly, a still stronger argument (at least +one that I am sure will be more forcible with you) is, that your readers +will have both right and reason to complain of you. This Chapter, which +cannot, when it is printed, amount to so little as an hundred pages, +will of necessity greatly increase the expense of the work; and every +reader who, like myself, is neither prepared nor perhaps calculated for +the study of so abstruse a subject so abstrusely treated, will, as +I have before hinted, be almost entitled to accuse you of a sort of +imposition on him. For who, he might truly observe, could from your +title-page, to wit, “My Literary Life and Opinions,” published too as +introductory to a volume of miscellaneous poems, have anticipated, or +even conjectured, a long treatise on Ideal Realism which holds the same +relation in abstruseness to Plotinus, as Plotinus does to Plato. It will +be well, if already you have not too much of metaphysical disquisition +in your work, though as the larger part of the disquisition is +historical, it will doubtless be both interesting and instructive to +many to whose unprepared minds your speculations on the esemplastic +power would be utterly unintelligible. Be assured, if you do publish +this Chapter in the present work, you will be reminded of Bishop +Berkeley’s Siris, announced as an Essay on Tar-water, which beginning +with Tar ends with the Trinity, the omne scibile forming the interspace. +I say in the present work. In that greater work to which you have +devoted so many years, and study so intense and various, it will be in +its proper place. Your prospectus will have described and announced both +its contents and their nature; and if any persons purchase it, who feel +no interest in the subjects of which it treats, they will have +themselves only to blame. +</p> +<p> +“I could add to these arguments one derived from pecuniary motives, and +particularly from the probable effects on the sale of your present +publication; but they would weigh little with you compared with the +preceding. Besides, I have long observed, that arguments drawn from your +own personal interests more often act on you as narcotics than as +stimulants, and that in money concerns you have some small portion of +pig-nature in your moral idiosyncrasy, and, like these amiable +creatures, must occasionally be pulled backward from the boat in order +to make you enter it. All success attend you, for if hard thinking and +hard reading are merits, you have deserved it. +</p> +<p> +“Your affectionate, etc.” + +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + In consequence of this very judicious letter, which produced complete + conviction on my mind, I shall content myself for the present with stating + the main result of the chapter, which I have reserved for that future + publication, a detailed prospectus of which the reader will find at the + close of the second volume. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + The Imagination then I consider either as primary, or secondary. The + primary Imagination I hold to be the living power and prime agent of all + human perception, and as a repetition in the finite mind of the eternal + act of creation in the infinite I AM. The secondary Imagination I consider + as an echo of the former, co-existing with the conscious will, yet still + as identical with the primary in the kind of its agency, and differing + only in degree, and in the mode of its operation. It dissolves, diffuses, + dissipates, in order to recreate: or where this process is rendered + impossible, yet still at all events it struggles to idealize and to unify. + It is essentially vital, even as all objects (as objects) are essentially + fixed and dead. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + FANCY, on the contrary, has no other counters to play with, but fixities + and definites. The fancy is indeed no other than a mode of memory + emancipated from the order of time and space; while it is blended with, + and modified by that empirical phaenomenon of the will, which we express + by the word Choice. But equally with the ordinary memory the Fancy must + receive all its materials ready made from the law of association. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <p> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV + </h2> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Occasion of the Lyrical Ballads, and the objects originally proposed—Preface + to the second edition—The ensuing controversy, its causes and + acrimony—Philosophic definitions of a Poem and Poetry with scholia. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + During the first year that Mr. Wordsworth and I were neighbours, our + conversations turned frequently on the two cardinal points of poetry, the + power of exciting the sympathy of the reader by a faithful adherence to + the truth of nature, and the power of giving the interest of novelty by + the modifying colours of imagination. The sudden charm, which accidents of + light and shade, which moon-light or sunset diffused over a known and + familiar landscape, appeared to represent the practicability of combining + both. These are the poetry of nature. The thought suggested itself—(to + which of us I do not recollect)—that a series of poems might be + composed of two sorts. In the one, the incidents and agents were to be, in + part at least, supernatural; and the excellence aimed at was to consist in + the interesting of the affections by the dramatic truth of such emotions, + as would naturally accompany such situations, supposing them real. And + real in this sense they have been to every human being who, from whatever + source of delusion, has at any time believed himself under supernatural + agency. For the second class, subjects were to be chosen from ordinary + life; the characters and incidents were to be such as will be found in + every village and its vicinity, where there is a meditative and feeling + mind to seek after them, or to notice them, when they present themselves. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + In this idea originated the plan of the LYRICAL BALLADS; in which it was + agreed, that my endeavours should be directed to persons and characters + supernatural, or at least romantic; yet so as to transfer from our inward + nature a human interest and a semblance of truth sufficient to procure for + these shadows of imagination that willing suspension of disbelief for the + moment, which constitutes poetic faith. Mr. Wordsworth, on the other hand, + was to propose to himself as his object, to give the charm of novelty to + things of every day, and to excite a feeling analogous to the + supernatural, by awakening the mind’s attention to the lethargy of custom, + and directing it to the loveliness and the wonders of the world before us; + an inexhaustible treasure, but for which, in consequence of the film of + familiarity and selfish solicitude, we have eyes, yet see not, ears that + hear not, and hearts that neither feel nor understand. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + With this view I wrote THE ANCIENT MARINER, and was preparing among other + poems, THE DARK LADIE, and the CHRISTABEL, in which I should have more + nearly realized my ideal, than I had done in my first attempt. But Mr. + Wordsworth’s industry had proved so much more successful, and the number + of his poems so much greater, that my compositions, instead of forming a + balance, appeared rather an interpolation of heterogeneous matter. Mr. + Wordsworth added two or three poems written in his own character, in the + impassioned, lofty, and sustained diction, which is characteristic of his + genius. In this form the LYRICAL BALLADS were published; and were + presented by him, as an experiment, whether subjects, which from their + nature rejected the usual ornaments and extra-colloquial style of poems in + general, might not be so managed in the language of ordinary life as to + produce the pleasurable interest, which it is the peculiar business of + poetry to impart. To the second edition he added a preface of considerable + length; in which, notwithstanding some passages of apparently a contrary + import, he was understood to contend for the extension of this style to + poetry of all kinds, and to reject as vicious and indefensible all phrases + and forms of speech that were not included in what he (unfortunately, I + think, adopting an equivocal expression) called the language of real life. + From this preface, prefixed to poems in which it was impossible to deny + the presence of original genius, however mistaken its direction might be + deemed, arose the whole long-continued controversy. For from the + conjunction of perceived power with supposed heresy I explain the + inveteracy and in some instances, I grieve to say, the acrimonious + passions, with which the controversy has been conducted by the assailants. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Had Mr. Wordsworth’s poems been the silly, the childish things, which they + were for a long time described as being had they been really distinguished + from the compositions of other poets merely by meanness of language and + inanity of thought; had they indeed contained nothing more than what is + found in the parodies and pretended imitations of them; they must have + sunk at once, a dead weight, into the slough of oblivion, and have dragged + the preface along with them. But year after year increased the number of + Mr. Wordsworth’s admirers. They were found too not in the lower classes of + the reading public, but chiefly among young men of strong sensibility and + meditative minds; and their admiration (inflamed perhaps in some degree by + opposition) was distinguished by its intensity, I might almost say, by its + religious fervour. These facts, and the intellectual energy of the author, + which was more or less consciously felt, where it was outwardly and even + boisterously denied, meeting with sentiments of aversion to his opinions, + and of alarm at their consequences, produced an eddy of criticism, which + would of itself have borne up the poems by the violence with which it + whirled them round and round. With many parts of this preface in the sense + attributed to them and which the words undoubtedly seem to authorize, I + never concurred; but on the contrary objected to them as erroneous in + principle, and as contradictory (in appearance at least) both to other + parts of the same preface, and to the author’s own practice in the greater + part of the poems themselves. Mr. Wordsworth in his recent collection has, + I find, degraded this prefatory disquisition to the end of his second + volume, to be read or not at the reader’s choice. But he has not, as far + as I can discover, announced any change in his poetic creed. At all + events, considering it as the source of a controversy, in which I have + been honoured more than I deserve by the frequent conjunction of my name + with his, I think it expedient to declare once for all, in what points I + coincide with the opinions supported in that preface, and in what points I + altogether differ. But in order to render myself intelligible I must + previously, in as few words as possible, explain my views, first, of a + Poem; and secondly, of Poetry itself, in kind, and in essence. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + The office of philosophical disquisition consists in just distinction; + while it is the privilege of the philosopher to preserve himself + constantly aware, that distinction is not division. In order to obtain + adequate notions of any truth, we must intellectually separate its + distinguishable parts; and this is the technical process of philosophy. + But having so done, we must then restore them in our conceptions to the + unity, in which they actually co-exist; and this is the result of + philosophy. A poem contains the same elements as a prose composition; the + difference therefore must consist in a different combination of them, in + consequence of a different object being proposed. According to the + difference of the object will be the difference of the combination. It is + possible, that the object may be merely to facilitate the recollection of + any given facts or observations by artificial arrangement; and the + composition will be a poem, merely because it is distinguished from prose + by metre, or by rhyme, or by both conjointly. In this, the lowest sense, a + man might attribute the name of a poem to the well-known enumeration of + the days in the several months; + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “Thirty days hath September,<br> + April, June, and November,” etc. +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + and others of the same class and purpose. And as a particular pleasure is + found in anticipating the recurrence of sounds and quantities, all + compositions that have this charm super-added, whatever be their contents, + may be entitled poems. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + So much for the superficial form. A difference of object and contents + supplies an additional ground of distinction. The immediate purpose may be + the communication of truths; either of truth absolute and demonstrable, as + in works of science; or of facts experienced and recorded, as in history. + Pleasure, and that of the highest and most permanent kind, may result from + the attainment of the end; but it is not itself the immediate end. In + other works the communication of pleasure may be the immediate purpose; + and though truth, either moral or intellectual, ought to be the ultimate + end, yet this will distinguish the character of the author, not the class + to which the work belongs. Blest indeed is that state of society, in which + the immediate purpose would be baffled by the perversion of the proper + ultimate end; in which no charm of diction or imagery could exempt the + BATHYLLUS even of an Anacreon, or the ALEXIS of Virgil, from disgust and + aversion! + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + But the communication of pleasure may be the immediate object of a work + not metrically composed; and that object may have been in a high degree + attained, as in novels and romances. Would then the mere superaddition of + metre, with or without rhyme, entitle these to the name of poems? The + answer is, that nothing can permanently please, which does not contain in + itself the reason why it is so, and not otherwise. If metre be superadded, + all other parts must be made consonant with it. They must be such, as to + justify the perpetual and distinct attention to each part, which an exact + correspondent recurrence of accent and sound are calculated to excite. The + final definition then, so deduced, may be thus worded. A poem is that + species of composition, which is opposed to works of science, by proposing + for its immediate object pleasure, not truth; and from all other species—(having + this object in common with it)—it is discriminated by proposing to + itself such delight from the whole, as is compatible with a distinct + gratification from each component part. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Controversy is not seldom excited in consequence of the disputants + attaching each a different meaning to the same word; and in few instances + has this been more striking, than in disputes concerning the present + subject. If a man chooses to call every composition a poem, which is + rhyme, or measure, or both, I must leave his opinion uncontroverted. The + distinction is at least competent to characterize the writer’s intention. + If it were subjoined, that the whole is likewise entertaining or + affecting, as a tale, or as a series of interesting reflections; I of + course admit this as another fit ingredient of a poem, and an additional + merit. But if the definition sought for be that of a legitimate poem, I + answer, it must be one, the parts of which mutually support and explain + each other; all in their proportion harmonizing with, and supporting the + purpose and known influences of metrical arrangement. The philosophic + critics of all ages coincide with the ultimate judgment of all countries, + in equally denying the praises of a just poem, on the one hand, to a + series of striking lines or distiches, each of which, absorbing the whole + attention of the reader to itself, becomes disjoined from its context, and + forms a separate whole, instead of a harmonizing part; and on the other + hand, to an unsustained composition, from which the reader collects + rapidly the general result unattracted by the component parts. The reader + should be carried forward, not merely or chiefly by the mechanical impulse + of curiosity, or by a restless desire to arrive at the final solution; but + by the pleasureable activity of mind excited by the attractions of the + journey itself. Like the motion of a serpent, which the Egyptians made the + emblem of intellectual power; or like the path of sound through the air;—at + every step he pauses and half recedes; and from the retrogressive movement + collects the force which again carries him onward. Praecipitandus est + liber spiritus, says Petronius most happily. The epithet, liber, here + balances the preceding verb; and it is not easy to conceive more meaning + condensed in fewer words. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + But if this should be admitted as a satisfactory character of a poem, we + have still to seek for a definition of poetry. The writings of Plato, and + Jeremy Taylor, and Burnet’s Theory of the Earth, furnish undeniable proofs + that poetry of the highest kind may exist without metre, and even without + the contradistringuishing objects of a poem. The first chapter of Isaiah—(indeed + a very large portion of the whole book)—is poetry in the most + emphatic sense; yet it would be not less irrational than strange to + assert, that pleasure, and not truth was the immediate object of the + prophet. In short, whatever specific import we attach to the word, Poetry, + there will be found involved in it, as a necessary consequence, that a + poem of any length neither can be, nor ought to be, all poetry. Yet if an + harmonious whole is to be produced, the remaining parts must be preserved + in keeping with the poetry; and this can be no otherwise effected than by + such a studied selection and artificial arrangement, as will partake of + one, though not a peculiar property of poetry. And this again can be no + other than the property of exciting a more continuous and equal attention + than the language of prose aims at, whether colloquial or written. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + My own conclusions on the nature of poetry, in the strictest use of the + word, have been in part anticipated in some of the remarks on the Fancy + and Imagination in the early part of this work. What is poetry?—is + so nearly the same question with, what is a poet?—that the answer to + the one is involved in the solution of the other. For it is a distinction + resulting from the poetic genius itself, which sustains and modifies the + images, thoughts, and emotions of the poet’s own mind. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + The poet, described in ideal perfection, brings the whole soul of man into + activity, with the subordination of its faculties to each other according + to their relative worth and dignity. He diffuses a tone and spirit of + unity, that blends, and (as it were) fuses, each into each, by that + synthetic and magical power, to which I would exclusively appropriate the + name of Imagination. This power, first put in action by the will and + understanding, and retained under their irremissive, though gentle and + unnoticed, control, laxis effertur habenis, reveals “itself in the balance + or reconcilement of opposite or discordant” qualities: of sameness, with + difference; of the general with the concrete; the idea with the image; the + individual with the representative; the sense of novelty and freshness + with old and familiar objects; a more than usual state of emotion with + more than usual order; judgment ever awake and steady self-possession with + enthusiasm and feeling profound or vehement; and while it blends and + harmonizes the natural and the artificial, still subordinates art to + nature; the manner to the matter; and our admiration of the poet to our + sympathy with the poetry. Doubtless, as Sir John Davies observes of the + soul—(and his words may with slight alteration be applied, and even + more appropriately, to the poetic Imagination)— + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + Doubtless this could not be, but that she turns<br> + Bodies to spirit by sublimation strange,<br> + As fire converts to fire the things it burns,<br> + As we our food into our nature change.<br> +<br> + From their gross matter she abstracts their forms,<br> + And draws a kind of quintessence from things;<br> + Which to her proper nature she transforms<br> + To bear them light on her celestial wings.<br> +<br> + Thus does she, when from individual states<br> + She doth abstract the universal kinds;<br> + Which then re-clothed in divers names and fates<br> + Steal access through the senses to our minds. +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Finally, Good Sense is the Body of poetic genius, Fancy its Drapery, + Motion its Life, and Imagination the Soul that is everywhere, and in each; + and forms all into one graceful and intelligent whole. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <p> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV + </h2> + <p> + </p> + <p> + The specific symptoms of poetic power elucidated in a critical analysis of + Shakespeare’s VENUS AND ADONIS, and RAPE of LUCRECE. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + In the application of these principles to purposes of practical criticism, + as employed in the appraisement of works more or less imperfect, I have + endeavoured to discover what the qualities in a poem are, which may be + deemed promises and specific symptoms of poetic power, as distinguished + from general talent determined to poetic composition by accidental + motives, by an act of the will, rather than by the inspiration of a genial + and productive nature. In this investigation, I could not, I thought, do + better, than keep before me the earliest work of the greatest genius, that + perhaps human nature has yet produced, our myriad-minded <a href="#linknote-61" id="linknoteref-61">[61]</a> + Shakespeare. I mean the VENUS AND ADONIS, and the LUCRECE; works which + give at once strong promises of the strength, and yet obvious proofs of + the immaturity, of his genius. From these I abstracted the following + marks, as characteristics of original poetic genius in general. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + 1. In the VENUS AND ADONIS, the first and most obvious excellence is the + perfect sweetness of the versification; its adaptation to the subject; and + the power displayed in varying the march of the words without passing into + a loftier and more majestic rhythm than was demanded by the thoughts, or + permitted by the propriety of preserving a sense of melody predominant. + The delight in richness and sweetness of sound, even to a faulty excess, + if it be evidently original, and not the result of an easily imitable + mechanism, I regard as a highly favourable promise in the compositions of + a young man. The man that hath not music in his soul can indeed never be a + genuine poet. Imagery,—(even taken from nature, much more when + transplanted from books, as travels, voyages, and works of natural + history),—affecting incidents, just thoughts, interesting personal + or domestic feelings, and with these the art of their combination or + intertexture in the form of a poem,—may all by incessant effort be + acquired as a trade, by a man of talent and much reading, who, as I once + before observed, has mistaken an intense desire of poetic reputation for a + natural poetic genius; the love of the arbitrary end for a possession of + the peculiar means. But the sense of musical delight, with the power of + producing it, is a gift of imagination; and this together with the power + of reducing multitude into unity of effect, and modifying a series of + thoughts by some one predominant thought or feeling, may be cultivated and + improved, but can never be learned. It is in these that “poeta nascitur + non fit.” + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + 2. A second promise of genius is the choice of subjects very remote from + the private interests and circumstances of the writer himself. At least I + have found, that where the subject is taken immediately from the author’s + personal sensations and experiences, the excellence of a particular poem + is but an equivocal mark, and often a fallacious pledge, of genuine poetic + power. We may perhaps remember the tale of the statuary, who had acquired + considerable reputation for the legs of his goddesses, though the rest of + the statue accorded but indifferently with ideal beauty; till his wife, + elated by her husband’s praises, modestly acknowledged that she had been + his constant model. In the VENUS AND ADONIS this proof of poetic power + exists even to excess. It is throughout as if a superior spirit more + intuitive, more intimately conscious, even than the characters themselves, + not only of every outward look and act, but of the flux and reflux of the + mind in all its subtlest thoughts and feelings, were placing the whole + before our view; himself meanwhile unparticipating in the passions, and + actuated only by that pleasurable excitement, which had resulted from the + energetic fervour of his own spirit in so vividly exhibiting what it had + so accurately and profoundly contemplated. I think, I should have + conjectured from these poems, that even then the great instinct, which + impelled the poet to the drama, was secretly working in him, prompting him—by + a series and never broken chain of imagery, always vivid and, because + unbroken, often minute; by the highest effort of the picturesque in words, + of which words are capable, higher perhaps than was ever realized by any + other poet, even Dante not excepted; to provide a substitute for that + visual language, that constant intervention and running comment by tone, + look and gesture, which in his dramatic works he was entitled to expect + from the players. His Venus and Adonis seem at once the characters + themselves, and the whole representation of those characters by the most + consummate actors. You seem to be told nothing, but to see and hear + everything. Hence it is, from the perpetual activity of attention required + on the part of the reader; from the rapid flow, the quick change, and the + playful nature of the thoughts and images; and above all from the + alienation, and, if I may hazard such an expression, the utter aloofness + of the poet’s own feelings, from those of which he is at once the painter + and the analyst; that though the very subject cannot but detract from the + pleasure of a delicate mind, yet never was poem less dangerous on a moral + account. Instead of doing as Ariosto, and as, still more offensively, + Wieland has done, instead of degrading and deforming passion into + appetite, the trials of love into the struggles of concupiscence; + Shakespeare has here represented the animal impulse itself, so as to + preclude all sympathy with it, by dissipating the reader’s notice among + the thousand outward images, and now beautiful, now fanciful + circumstances, which form its dresses and its scenery; or by diverting our + attention from the main subject by those frequent witty or profound + reflections, which the poet’s ever active mind has deduced from, or + connected with, the imagery and the incidents. The reader is forced into + too much action to sympathize with the merely passive of our nature. As + little can a mind thus roused and awakened be brooded on by mean and + indistinct emotion, as the low, lazy mist can creep upon the surface of a + lake, while a strong gale is driving it onward in waves and billows. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + 3. It has been before observed that images, however beautiful, though + faithfully copied from nature, and as accurately represented in words, do + not of themselves characterize the poet. They become proofs of original + genius only as far as they are modified by a predominant passion; or by + associated thoughts or images awakened by that passion; or when they have + the effect of reducing multitude to unity, or succession to an instant; or + lastly, when a human and intellectual life is transferred to them from the + poet’s own spirit, + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + Which shoots its being through earth, sea, and air. +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + In the two following lines for instance, there is nothing objectionable, + nothing which would preclude them from forming, in their proper place, + part of a descriptive poem: + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + Behold yon row of pines, that shorn and bow’d<br> + Bend from the sea-blast, seen at twilight eve. +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + But with a small alteration of rhythm, the same words would be equally in + their place in a book of topography, or in a descriptive tour. The same + image will rise into semblance of poetry if thus conveyed: + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + Yon row of bleak and visionary pines,<br> + By twilight glimpse discerned, mark! how they flee<br> + From the fierce sea-blast, all their tresses wild<br> + Streaming before them. +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + I have given this as an illustration, by no means as an instance, of that + particular excellence which I had in view, and in which Shakespeare even + in his earliest, as in his latest, works surpasses all other poets. It is + by this, that he still gives a dignity and a passion to the objects which + he presents. Unaided by any previous excitement, they burst upon us at + once in life and in power,— + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “Full many a glorious morning have I seen<br> + Flatter the mountain tops with sovereign eye.”<br> +<br> + “Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul<br> + Of the wide world dreaming on things to come—<br> +<br> + * * * * * *<br> + * * * * * *<br> +<br> + The mortal moon hath her eclipse endured,<br> + And the sad augurs mock their own presage;<br> + Incertainties now crown themselves assur’d,<br> + And Peace proclaims olives of endless age.<br> + Now with the drops of this most balmy time<br> + My love looks fresh, and Death to me subscribes,<br> + Since spite of him, I’ll live in this poor rhyme,<br> + While he insults o’er dull and speechless tribes.<br> + And thou in this shalt find thy monument,<br> + When tyrants’ crests, and tombs of brass are spent.” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + As of higher worth, so doubtless still more characteristic of poetic + genius does the imagery become, when it moulds and colours itself to the + circumstances, passion, or character, present and foremost in the mind. + For unrivalled instances of this excellence, the reader’s own memory will + refer him to the LEAR, OTHELLO, in short to which not of the “great, ever + living, dead man’s” dramatic works? Inopem em copia fecit. How true it is + to nature, he has himself finely expressed in the instance of love in his + 98th Sonnet. + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + From you have I been absent in the spring,<br> + When proud-pied April drest in all its trim,<br> + Hath put a spirit of youth in every thing;<br> + That heavy Saturn laugh’d and leap’d with him.<br> + Yet nor the lays of birds, nor the sweet smell<br> + Of different flowers in odour and in hue,<br> + Could make me any summer’s story tell,<br> + Or from their proud lap pluck them, where they grew<br> + Nor did I wonder at the lilies white,<br> + Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose;<br> + They were, tho’ sweet, but figures of delight,<br> + Drawn after you, you pattern of all those.<br> + Yet seem’d it winter still, and, you away,<br> + As with your shadow, I with these did play!” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Scarcely less sure, or if a less valuable, not less indispensable mark + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + Gonimon men poiaetou———<br> + ———hostis rhaema gennaion lakoi, +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + will the imagery supply, when, with more than the power of the painter, + the poet gives us the liveliest image of succession with the feeling of + simultaneousness:— + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + With this, he breaketh from the sweet embrace<br> + Of those fair arms, which bound him to her breast,<br> + And homeward through the dark laund runs apace;—<br> +<br> + * * * * * * +<br> + Look! how a bright star shooteth from the sky,<br> + So glides he in the night from Venus’ eye. +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + 4. The last character I shall mention, which would prove indeed but + little, except as taken conjointly with the former;—yet without + which the former could scarce exist in a high degree, and (even if this + were possible) would give promises only of transitory flashes and a + meteoric power;—is depth, and energy of thought. No man was ever yet + a great poet, without being at the same time a profound philosopher. For + poetry is the blossom and the fragrancy of all human knowledge, human + thoughts, human passions, emotions, language. In Shakespeare’s poems the + creative power and the intellectual energy wrestle as in a war embrace. + Each in its excess of strength seems to threaten the extinction of the + other. At length in the drama they were reconciled, and fought each with + its shield before the breast of the other. Or like two rapid streams, + that, at their first meeting within narrow and rocky banks, mutually + strive to repel each other and intermix reluctantly and in tumult; but + soon finding a wider channel and more yielding shores blend, and dilate, + and flow on in one current and with one voice. The VENUS AND ADONIS did + not perhaps allow the display of the deeper passions. But the story of + Lucretia seems to favour and even demand their intensest workings. And yet + we find in Shakespeare’s management of the tale neither pathos, nor any + other dramatic quality. There is the same minute and faithful imagery as + in the former poem, in the same vivid colours, inspirited by the same + impetuous vigour of thought, and diverging and contracting with the same + activity of the assimilative and of the modifying faculties; and with a + yet larger display, a yet wider range of knowledge and reflection; and + lastly, with the same perfect dominion, often domination, over the whole + world of language. What then shall we say? even this; that Shakespeare, no + mere child of nature; no automaton of genius; no passive vehicle of + inspiration, possessed by the spirit, not possessing it; first studied + patiently, meditated deeply, understood minutely, till knowledge, become + habitual and intuitive, wedded itself to his habitual feelings, and at + length gave birth to that stupendous power, by which he stands alone, with + no equal or second in his own class; to that power which seated him on one + of the two glory-smitten summits of the poetic mountain, with Milton as + his compeer not rival. While the former darts himself forth, and passes + into all the forms of human character and passion, the one Proteus of the + fire and the flood; the other attracts all forms and things to himself, + into the unity of his own ideal. All things and modes of action shape + themselves anew in the being of Milton; while Shakespeare becomes all + things, yet for ever remaining himself. O what great men hast thou not + produced, England, my country!—Truly indeed— + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + We must be free or die, who speak the tongue,<br> + Which Shakespeare spake; the faith and morals hold,<br> + Which Milton held. In everything we are sprung<br> + Of earth’s first blood, have titles manifold. +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <p> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI + </h2> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Striking points of difference between the Poets of the present age and + those of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries—Wish expressed for + the union of the characteristic merits of both. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Christendom, from its first settlement on feudal rights, has been so far + one great body, however imperfectly organized, that a similar spirit will + be found in each period to have been acting in all its members. The study + of Shakespeare’s poems—(I do not include his dramatic works, + eminently as they too deserve that title)—led me to a more careful + examination of the contemporary poets both in England and in other + countries. But my attention was especially fixed on those of Italy, from + the birth to the death of Shakespeare; that being the country in which the + fine arts had been most sedulously, and hitherto most successfully + cultivated. Abstracted from the degrees and peculiarities of individual + genius, the properties common to the good writers of each period seem to + establish one striking point of difference between the poetry of the + fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, and that of the present age. The remark + may perhaps be extended to the sister art of painting. At least the latter + will serve to illustrate the former. In the present age the poet—(I + would wish to be understood as speaking generally, and without allusion to + individual names)—seems to propose to himself as his main object, + and as that which is the most characteristic of his art, new and striking + images; with incidents that interest the affections or excite the + curiosity. Both his characters and his descriptions he renders, as much as + possible, specific and individual, even to a degree of portraiture. In his + diction and metre, on the other hand, he is comparatively careless. The + measure is either constructed on no previous system, and acknowledges no + justifying principle but that of the writer’s convenience; or else some + mechanical movement is adopted, of which one couplet or stanza is so far + an adequate specimen, as that the occasional differences appear evidently + to arise from accident, or the qualities of the language itself, not from + meditation and an intelligent purpose. And the language from Pope’s + translation of Homer, to Darwin’s Temple of Nature <a href="#linknote-62" id="linknoteref-62">[62]</a>, may, notwithstanding + some illustrious exceptions, be too faithfully characterized, as claiming + to be poetical for no better reason, than that it would be intolerable in + conversation or in prose. Though alas! even our prose writings, nay even + the style of our more set discourses, strive to be in the fashion, and + trick themselves out in the soiled and over-worn finery of the + meretricious muse. It is true that of late a great improvement in this + respect is observable in our most popular writers. But it is equally true, + that this recurrence to plain sense and genuine mother English is far from + being general; and that the composition of our novels, magazines, public + harangues, and the like is commonly as trivial in thought, and yet + enigmatic in expression, as if Echo and Sphinx had laid their heads + together to construct it. Nay, even of those who have most rescued + themselves from this contagion, I should plead inwardly guilty to the + charge of duplicity or cowardice, if I withheld my conviction, that few + have guarded the purity of their native tongue with that jealous care, + which the sublime Dante in his tract De la volgare Eloquenza, declares to + be the first duty of a poet. For language is the armoury of the human + mind; and at once contains the trophies of its past, and the weapons of + its future conquests. Animadverte, says Hobbes, quam sit ab improprietate + verborum pronum hominihus prolabi in errores circa ipsas res! Sat [vero], + says Sennertus, in hac vitae brevitate et naturae obscuritate, rerum est, + quibus cognoscendis tempus impendatur, ut [confusis et multivotis] + sermonibus intelligendis illud consumere opus non sit. [Eheu! quantas + strages paravere verba nubila, quae tot dicunt ut nihil dicunt;—nubes + potius, e quibus et in rebus politicis et in ecclesia turbines et tonitrua + erumpunt!] Et proinde recte dictum putamus a Platone in Gorgia: os an ta + onomata eidei, eisetai kai ta pragmata: et ab Epicteto, archae paideuseos + hae ton onomaton episkepsis: et prudentissime Galenus scribit, hae ton + onomaton chraesis tarachtheisa kai taen ton pragmaton epitarattei gnosin. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Egregie vero J. C. Scaliger, in Lib. I. de Plantis: Est primum, inquit, + sapientis officium, bene sentire, ut sibi vivat: proximum, bene loqui, ut + patriae vivat. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Something analogous to the materials and structure of modern poetry I seem + to have noticed—(but here I beg to be understood as speaking with + the utmost diffidence)—in our common landscape painters. Their + foregrounds and intermediate distances are comparatively unattractive: + while the main interest of the landscape is thrown into the background, + where mountains and torrents and castles forbid the eye to proceed, and + nothing tempts it to trace its way back again. But in the works of the + great Italian and Flemish masters, the front and middle objects of the + landscape are the most obvious and determinate, the interest gradually + dies away in the background, and the charm and peculiar worth of the + picture consists, not so much in the specific objects which it conveys to + the understanding in a visual language formed by the substitution of + figures for words, as in the beauty and harmony of the colours, lines, and + expression, with which the objects are represented. Hence novelty of + subject was rather avoided than sought for. Superior excellence in the + manner of treating the same subjects was the trial and test of the + artist’s merit. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Not otherwise is it with the more polished poets of the fifteenth and + sixteenth centuries, especially those of Italy. The imagery is almost + always general: sun, moon, flowers, breezes, murmuring streams, warbling + songsters, delicious shades, lovely damsels cruel as fair, nymphs, naiads, + and goddesses, are the materials which are common to all, and which each + shaped and arranged according to his judgment or fancy, little solicitous + to add or to particularize. If we make an honourable exception in favour + of some English poets, the thoughts too are as little novel as the images; + and the fable of their narrative poems, for the most part drawn from + mythology, or sources of equal notoriety, derive their chief attractions + from the manner of treating them; from impassioned flow, or picturesque + arrangement. In opposition to the present age, and perhaps in as faulty an + extreme, they placed the essence of poetry in the art. The excellence, at + which they aimed, consisted in the exquisite polish of the diction, + combined with perfect simplicity. This their prime object they attained by + the avoidance of every word, which a gentleman would not use in dignified + conversation, and of every word and phrase, which none but a learned man + would use; by the studied position of words and phrases, so that not only + each part should be melodious in itself, but contribute to the harmony of + the whole, each note referring and conducting to the melody of all the + foregoing and following words of the same period or stanza; and lastly + with equal labour, the greater because unbetrayed, by the variation and + various harmonies of their metrical movement. Their measures, however, + were not indebted for their variety to the introduction of new metres, + such as have been attempted of late in the Alonzo and Imogen, and others + borrowed from the German, having in their very mechanism a specific + overpowering tune, to which the generous reader humours his voice and + emphasis, with more indulgence to the author than attention to the meaning + or quantity of the words; but which, to an ear familiar with the numerous + sounds of the Greek and Roman poets, has an effect not unlike that of + galloping over a paved road in a German stage-waggon without springs. On + the contrary, the elder bards both of Italy and England produced a far + greater as well as more charming variety by countless modifications, and + subtle balances of sound in the common metres of their country. A lasting + and enviable reputation awaits that man of genius, who should attempt and + realize a union;—who should recall the high finish, the + appropriateness, the facility, the delicate proportion, and above all, the + perfusive and omnipresent grace, which have preserved, as in a shrine of + precious amber, the Sparrow of Catullus, the Swallow, the Grasshopper, and + all the other little loves of Anacreon; and which, with bright, though + diminished glories, revisited the youth and early manhood of Christian + Europe, in the vales of <a href="#linknote-63" id="linknoteref-63">[63]</a> +Arno, and the groves of Isis and of Cam; and who with these should +combine the keener interest, deeper pathos, manlier reflection, and the +fresher and more various imagery, which give a value and a name that +will not pass away to the poets who have done honour to our own times, +and to those of our immediate predecessors.</p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <p> + </p> + <h2 id="link2HCH0017"> + CHAPTER XVII + </h2> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Examination of the tenets peculiar to Mr. Wordsworth—Rustic life + (above all, low and rustic life) especially unfavourable to the formation + of a human diction—The best parts of language the product of + philosophers, not of clowns or shepherds—Poetry essentially ideal + and generic—The language of Milton as much the language of real + life, yea, incomparably more so than that of the cottager. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + As far then as Mr. Wordsworth in his preface contended, and most ably + contended, for a reformation in our poetic diction, as far as he has + evinced the truth of passion, and the dramatic propriety of those figures + and metaphors in the original poets, which, stripped of their justifying + reasons, and converted into mere artifices of connection or ornament, + constitute the characteristic falsity in the poetic style of the moderns; + and as far as he has, with equal acuteness and clearness, pointed out the + process by which this change was effected, and the resemblances between + that state into which the reader’s mind is thrown by the pleasurable + confusion of thought from an unaccustomed train of words and images; and + that state which is induced by the natural language of impassioned + feeling; he undertook a useful task, and deserves all praise, both for the + attempt and for the execution. The provocations to this remonstrance in + behalf of truth and nature were still of perpetual recurrence before and + after the publication of this preface. I cannot likewise but add, that the + comparison of such poems of merit, as have been given to the public within + the last ten or twelve years, with the majority of those produced + previously to the appearance of that preface, leave no doubt on my mind, + that Mr. Wordsworth is fully justified in believing his efforts to have + been by no means ineffectual. Not only in the verses of those who have + professed their admiration of his genius, but even of those who have + distinguished themselves by hostility to his theory, and depreciation of + his writings, are the impressions of his principles plainly visible. It is + possible, that with these principles others may have been blended, which + are not equally evident; and some which are unsteady and subvertible from + the narrowness or imperfection of their basis. But it is more than + possible, that these errors of defect or exaggeration, by kindling and + feeding the controversy, may have conduced not only to the wider + propagation of the accompanying truths, but that, by their frequent + presentation to the mind in an excited state, they may have won for them a + more permanent and practical result. A man will borrow a part from his + opponent the more easily, if he feels himself justified in continuing to + reject a part. While there remain important points in which he can still + feel himself in the right, in which he still finds firm footing for + continued resistance, he will gradually adopt those opinions, which were + the least remote from his own convictions, as not less congruous with his + own theory than with that which he reprobates. In like manner with a kind + of instinctive prudence, he will abandon by little and little his weakest + posts, till at length he seems to forget that they had ever belonged to + him, or affects to consider them at most as accidental and “petty + annexments,” the removal of which leaves the citadel unhurt and + unendangered. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + My own differences from certain supposed parts of Mr. Wordsworth’s theory + ground themselves on the assumption, that his words had been rightly + interpreted, as purporting that the proper diction for poetry in general + consists altogether in a language taken, with due exceptions, from the + mouths of men in real life, a language which actually constitutes the + natural conversation of men under the influence of natural feelings. My + objection is, first, that in any sense this rule is applicable only to + certain classes of poetry; secondly, that even to these classes it is not + applicable, except in such a sense, as hath never by any one (as far as I + know or have read,) been denied or doubted; and lastly, that as far as, + and in that degree in which it is practicable, it is yet as a rule + useless, if not injurious, and therefore either need not, or ought not to + be practised. The poet informs his reader, that he had generally chosen + low and rustic life; but not as low and rustic, or in order to repeat that + pleasure of doubtful moral effect, which persons of elevated rank and of + superior refinement oftentimes derive from a happy imitation of the rude + unpolished manners and discourse of their inferiors. For the pleasure so + derived may be traced to three exciting causes. The first is the + naturalness, in fact, of the things represented. The second is the + apparent naturalness of the representation, as raised and qualified by an + imperceptible infusion of the author’s own knowledge and talent, which + infusion does, indeed, constitute it an imitation as distinguished from a + mere copy. The third cause may be found in the reader’s conscious feeling + of his superiority awakened by the contrast presented to him; even as for + the same purpose the kings and great barons of yore retained, sometimes + actual clowns and fools, but more frequently shrewd and witty fellows in + that character. These, however, were not Mr. Wordsworth’s objects. He + chose low and rustic life, “because in that condition the essential + passions of the heart find a better soil, in which they can attain their + maturity, are less under restraint, and speak a plainer and more emphatic + language; because in that condition of life our elementary feelings + coexist in a state of greater simplicity, and consequently may be more + accurately contemplated, and more forcibly communicated; because the + manners of rural life germinate from those elementary feelings; and from + the necessary character of rural occupations are more easily comprehended, + and are more durable; and lastly, because in that condition the passions + of men are incorporated with the beautiful and permanent forms of nature.” + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Now it is clear to me, that in the most interesting of the poems, in which + the author is more or less dramatic, as THE BROTHERS, MICHAEL, RUTH, THE + MAD MOTHER, and others, the persons introduced are by no means taken from + low or rustic life in the common acceptation of those words! and it is not + less clear, that the sentiments and language, as far as they can be + conceived to have been really transferred from the minds and conversation + of such persons, are attributable to causes and circumstances not + necessarily connected with “their occupations and abode.” The thoughts, + feelings, language, and manners of the shepherd- farmers in the vales of + Cumberland and Westmoreland, as far as they are actually adopted in those + poems, may be accounted for from causes, which will and do produce the + same results in every state of life, whether in town or country. As the + two principal I rank that independence, which raises a man above + servitude, or daily toil for the profit of others, yet not above the + necessity of industry and a frugal simplicity of domestic life; and the + accompanying unambitious, but solid and religious, education, which has + rendered few books familiar, but the Bible, and the Liturgy or Hymn book. + To this latter cause, indeed, which is so far accidental, that it is the + blessing of particular countries and a particular age, not the product of + particular places or employments, the poet owes the show of probability, + that his personages might really feel, think, and talk with any tolerable + resemblance to his representation. It is an excellent remark of Dr. Henry + More’s, that “a man of confined education, but of good parts, by constant + reading of the Bible will naturally form a more winning and commanding + rhetoric than those that are learned: the intermixture of tongues and of + artificial phrases debasing their style.” + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + It is, moreover, to be considered that to the formation of healthy + feelings, and a reflecting mind, negations involve impediments not less + formidable than sophistication and vicious intermixture. I am convinced, + that for the human soul to prosper in rustic life a certain vantage-ground + is prerequisite. It is not every man that is likely to be improved by a + country life or by country labours. Education, or original sensibility, or + both, must pre-exist, if the changes, forms, and incidents of nature are + to prove a sufficient stimulant. And where these are not sufficient, the + mind contracts and hardens by want of stimulants: and the man becomes + selfish, sensual, gross, and hard- hearted. Let the management of the Poor + Laws in Liverpool, Manchester, or Bristol be compared with the ordinary + dispensation of the poor rates in agricultural villages, where the farmers + are the overseers and guardians of the poor. If my own experience have not + been particularly unfortunate, as well as that of the many respectable + country clergymen with whom I have conversed on the subject, the result + would engender more than scepticism concerning the desirable influences of + low and rustic life in and for itself. Whatever may be concluded on the + other side, from the stronger local attachments and enterprising spirit of + the Swiss, and other mountaineers, applies to a particular mode of + pastoral life, under forms of property that permit and beget manners truly + republican, not to rustic life in general, or to the absence of artificial + cultivation. On the contrary the mountaineers, whose manners have been so + often eulogized, are in general better educated and greater readers than + men of equal rank elsewhere. But where this is not the case, as among the + peasantry of North Wales, the ancient mountains, with all their terrors + and all their glories, are pictures to the blind, and music to the deaf. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + I should not have entered so much into detail upon this passage, but here + seems to be the point, to which all the lines of difference converge as to + their source and centre;—I mean, as far as, and in whatever respect, + my poetic creed does differ from the doctrines promulgated in this + preface. I adopt with full faith, the principle of Aristotle, that poetry, + as poetry, is essentially ideal, that it avoids and excludes all accident; + that its apparent individualities of rank, character, or occupation must + be representative of a class; and that the persons of poetry must be + clothed with generic attributes, with the common attributes of the class: + not with such as one gifted individual might possibly possess, but such as + from his situation it is most probable before-hand that he would possess. + If my premises are right and my deductions legitimate, it follows that + there can be no poetic medium between the swains of Theocritus and those + of an imaginary golden age. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + The characters of the vicar and the shepherd-mariner in the poem of THE + BROTHERS, and that of the shepherd of Green-head Ghyll in the MICHAEL, + have all the verisimilitude and representative quality, that the purposes + of poetry can require. They are persons of a known and abiding class, and + their manners and sentiments the natural product of circumstances common + to the class. Take Michael for instance: + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + An old man stout of heart, and strong of limb.<br> + His bodily frame had been from youth to age<br> + Of an unusual strength: his mind was keen,<br> + Intense, and frugal, apt for all affairs,<br> + And in his shepherd’s calling he was prompt<br> + And watchful more than ordinary men.<br> + Hence he had learned the meaning of all winds,<br> + Of blasts of every tone; and oftentimes<br> + When others heeded not, He heard the South<br> + Make subterraneous music, like the noise<br> + Of bagpipers on distant Highland hills.<br> + The Shepherd, at such warning, of his flock<br> + Bethought him, and he to himself would say,<br> + ‘The winds are now devising work for me!’<br> + And truly, at all times, the storm, that drives<br> + The traveller to a shelter, summoned him<br> + Up to the mountains: he had been alone<br> + Amid the heart of many thousand mists,<br> + That came to him and left him on the heights.<br> + So lived he, until his eightieth year was past.<br> + And grossly that man errs, who should suppose<br> + That the green valleys, and the streams and rocks,<br> + Were things indifferent to the Shepherd’s thoughts.<br> + Fields, where with cheerful spirits he had breathed<br> + The common air; the hills, which he so oft<br> + Had climbed with vigorous steps; which had impressed<br> + So many incidents upon his mind<br> + Of hardship, skill or courage, joy or fear;<br> + Which, like a book, preserved the memory<br> + Of the dumb animals, whom he had saved,<br> + Had fed or sheltered, linking to such acts,<br> + So grateful in themselves, the certainty<br> + Of honourable gain; these fields, these hills<br> + Which were his living Being, even more<br> + Than his own blood—what could they less? had laid<br> + Strong hold on his affections, were to him<br> + A pleasurable feeling of blind love,<br> + The pleasure which there is in life itself. +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + On the other hand, in the poems which are pitched in a lower key, as the + HARRY GILL, and THE IDIOT BOY, the feelings are those of human nature in + general; though the poet has judiciously laid the scene in the country, in + order to place himself in the vicinity of interesting images, without the + necessity of ascribing a sentimental perception of their beauty to the + persons of his drama. In THE IDIOT BOY, indeed, the mother’s character is + not so much the real and native product of a “situation where the + essential passions of the heart find a better soil, in which they can + attain their maturity and speak a plainer and more emphatic language,” as + it is an impersonation of an instinct abandoned by judgment. Hence the two + following charges seem to me not wholly groundless: at least, they are the + only plausible objections, which I have heard to that fine poem. The one + is, that the author has not, in the poem itself, taken sufficient care to + preclude from the reader’s fancy the disgusting images of ordinary morbid + idiocy, which yet it was by no means his intention to represent. He was + even by the “burr, burr, burr,” uncounteracted by any preceding + description of the boy’s beauty, assisted in recalling them. The other is, + that the idiocy of the boy is so evenly balanced by the folly of the + mother, as to present to the general reader rather a laughable burlesque + on the blindness of anile dotage, than an analytic display of maternal + affection in its ordinary workings. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + In THE THORN, the poet himself acknowledges in a note the necessity of an + introductory poem, in which he should have portrayed the character of the + person from whom the words of the poem are supposed to proceed: a + superstitious man moderately imaginative, of slow faculties and deep + feelings, “a captain of a small trading vessel, for example, who, being + past the middle age of life, had retired upon an annuity, or small + independent income, to some village or country town of which he was not a + native, or in which he had not been accustomed to live. Such men having + nothing to do become credulous and talkative from indolence.” But in a + poem, still more in a lyric poem—and the Nurse in ROMEO AND JULIET + alone prevents me from extending the remark even to dramatic poetry, if + indeed even the Nurse can be deemed altogether a case in point—it is + not possible to imitate truly a dull and garrulous discourser, without + repeating the effects of dullness and garrulity. However this may be, I + dare assert, that the parts—(and these form the far larger portion + of the whole)—which might as well or still better have proceeded + from the poet’s own imagination, and have been spoken in his own + character, are those which have given, and which will continue to give, + universal delight; and that the passages exclusively appropriate to the + supposed narrator, such as the last couplet of the third stanza <a href="#linknote-64" id="linknoteref-64">[64]</a>; + the seven last lines of the tenth <a href="#linknote-65" id="linknoteref-65">[65]</a>; and the five following + stanzas, with the exception of the four admirable lines at the + commencement of the fourteenth, are felt by many unprejudiced and + unsophisticated hearts, as sudden and unpleasant sinkings from the height + to which the poet had previously lifted them, and to which he again + re-elevates both himself and his reader. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + If then I am compelled to doubt the theory, by which the choice of + characters was to be directed, not only a priori, from grounds of reason, + but both from the few instances in which the poet himself need be supposed + to have been governed by it, and from the comparative inferiority of those + instances; still more must I hesitate in my assent to the sentence which + immediately follows the former citation; and which I can neither admit as + particular fact, nor as general rule. “The language, too, of these men has + been adopted (purified indeed from what appear to be its real defects, + from all lasting and rational causes of dislike or disgust) because such + men hourly communicate with the best objects from which the best part of + language is originally derived; and because, from their rank in society + and the sameness and narrow circle of their intercourse, being less under + the action of social vanity, they convey their feelings and notions in + simple and unelaborated expressions.” To this I reply; that a rustic’s + language, purified from all provincialism and grossness, and so far + reconstructed as to be made consistent with the rules of grammar—(which + are in essence no other than the laws of universal logic, applied to + psychological materials)—will not differ from the language of any + other man of common sense, however learned or refined he may be, except as + far as the notions, which the rustic has to convey, are fewer and more + indiscriminate. This will become still clearer, if we add the + consideration—(equally important though less obvious)—that the + rustic, from the more imperfect development of his faculties, and from the + lower state of their cultivation, aims almost solely to convey insulated + facts, either those of his scanty experience or his traditional belief; + while the educated man chiefly seeks to discover and express those + connections of things, or those relative bearings of fact to fact, from + which some more or less general law is deducible. For facts are valuable + to a wise man, chiefly as they lead to the discovery of the indwelling + law, which is the true being of things, the sole solution of their modes + of existence, and in the knowledge of which consists our dignity and our + power. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + As little can I agree with the assertion, that from the objects with which + the rustic hourly communicates the best part of language is formed. For + first, if to communicate with an object implies such an acquaintance with + it, as renders it capable of being discriminately reflected on, the + distinct knowledge of an uneducated rustic would furnish a very scanty + vocabulary. The few things and modes of action requisite for his bodily + conveniences would alone be individualized; while all the rest of nature + would be expressed by a small number of confused general terms. Secondly, + I deny that the words and combinations of words derived from the objects, + with which the rustic is familiar, whether with distinct or confused + knowledge, can be justly said to form the best part of language. It is + more than probable, that many classes of the brute creation possess + discriminating sounds, by which they can convey to each other notices of + such objects as concern their food, shelter, or safety. Yet we hesitate to + call the aggregate of such sounds a language, otherwise than + metaphorically. The best part of human language, properly so called, is + derived from reflection on the acts of the mind itself. It is formed by a + voluntary appropriation of fixed symbols to internal acts, to processes + and results of imagination, the greater part of which have no place in the + consciousness of uneducated man; though in civilized society, by imitation + and passive remembrance of what they hear from their religious instructors + and other superiors, the most uneducated share in the harvest which they + neither sowed, nor reaped. If the history of the phrases in hourly + currency among our peasants were traced, a person not previously aware of + the fact would be surprised at finding so large a number, which three or + four centuries ago were the exclusive property of the universities and the + schools; and, at the commencement of the Reformation, had been transferred + from the school to the pulpit, and thus gradually passed into common life. + The extreme difficulty, and often the impossibility, of finding words for + the simplest moral and intellectual processes of the languages of + uncivilized tribes has proved perhaps the weightiest obstacle to the + progress of our most zealous and adroit missionaries. Yet these tribes are + surrounded by the same nature as our peasants are; but in still more + impressive forms; and they are, moreover, obliged to particularize many + more of them. When, therefore, Mr. Wordsworth adds, “accordingly, such a + language”—(meaning, as before, the language of rustic life purified + from provincialism)—“arising out of repeated experience and regular + feelings, is a more permanent, and a far more philosophical language, than + that which is frequently substituted for it by Poets, who think that they + are conferring honour upon themselves and their art in proportion as they + indulge in arbitrary and capricious habits of expression;” it may be + answered, that the language, which he has in view, can be attributed to + rustics with no greater right, than the style of Hooker or Bacon to Tom + Brown or Sir Roger L’Estrange. Doubtless, if what is peculiar to each were + omitted in each, the result must needs be the same. Further, that the + poet, who uses an illogical diction, or a style fitted to excite only the + low and changeable pleasure of wonder by means of groundless novelty, + substitutes a language of folly and vanity, not for that of the rustic, + but for that of good sense and natural feeling. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Here let me be permitted to remind the reader, that the positions, which I + controvert, are contained in the sentences—“a selection of the real + language of men;”—“the language of these men” (that is, men in low + and rustic life) “has been adopted; I have proposed to myself to imitate, + and, as far as is possible, to adopt the very language of men.” + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + “Between the language of prose and that of metrical composition, there + neither is, nor can be, any essential difference:” it is against these + exclusively that my opposition is directed. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + I object, in the very first instance, to an equivocation in the use of the + word “real.” Every man’s language varies, according to the extent of his + knowledge, the activity of his faculties, and the depth or quickness of + his feelings. Every man’s language has, first, its individualities; + secondly, the common properties of the class to which he belongs; and + thirdly, words and phrases of universal use. The language of Hooker, + Bacon, Bishop Taylor, and Burke differs from the common language of the + learned class only by the superior number and novelty of the thoughts and + relations which they had to convey. The language of Algernon Sidney + differs not at all from that, which every well-educated gentleman would + wish to write, and (with due allowances for the undeliberateness, and less + connected train, of thinking natural and proper to conversation) such as + he would wish to talk. Neither one nor the other differ half as much from + the general language of cultivated society, as the language of Mr. + Wordsworth’s homeliest composition differs from that of a common peasant. + For “real” therefore, we must substitute ordinary, or lingua communis. And + this, we have proved, is no more to be found in the phraseology of low and + rustic life than in that of any other class. Omit the peculiarities of + each and the result of course must be common to all. And assuredly the + omissions and changes to be made in the language of rustics, before it + could be transferred to any species of poem, except the drama or other + professed imitation, are at least as numerous and weighty, as would be + required in adapting to the same purpose the ordinary language of + tradesmen and manufacturers. Not to mention, that the language so highly + extolled by Mr. Wordsworth varies in every county, nay in every village, + according to the accidental character of the clergyman, the existence or + non-existence of schools; or even, perhaps, as the exciteman, publican, + and barber happen to be, or not to be, zealous politicians, and readers of + the weekly newspaper pro bono publico. Anterior to cultivation the lingua + communis of every country, as Dante has well observed, exists every where + in parts, and no where as a whole. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Neither is the case rendered at all more tenable by the addition of the + words, “in a state of excitement.” For the nature of a man’s words, where + he is strongly affected by joy, grief, or anger, must necessarily depend + on the number and quality of the general truths, conceptions and images, + and of the words expressing them, with which his mind had been previously + stored. For the property of passion is not to create; but to set in + increased activity. At least, whatever new connections of thoughts or + images, or—(which is equally, if not more than equally, the + appropriate effect of strong excitement)—whatever generalizations of + truth or experience the heat of passion may produce; yet the terms of + their conveyance must have pre-existed in his former conversations, and + are only collected and crowded together by the unusual stimulation. It is + indeed very possible to adopt in a poem the unmeaning repetitions, + habitual phrases, and other blank counters, which an unfurnished or + confused understanding interposes at short intervals, in order to keep + hold of his subject, which is still slipping from him, and to give him + time for recollection; or, in mere aid of vacancy, as in the scanty + companies of a country stage the same player pops backwards and forwards, + in order to prevent the appearance of empty spaces, in the procession of + Macbeth, or Henry VIII. But what assistance to the poet, or ornament to + the poem, these can supply, I am at a loss to conjecture. Nothing + assuredly can differ either in origin or in mode more widely from the + apparent tautologies of intense and turbulent feeling, in which the + passion is greater and of longer endurance than to be exhausted or + satisfied by a single representation of the image or incident exciting it. + Such repetitions I admit to be a beauty of the highest kind; as + illustrated by Mr. Wordsworth himself from the song of Deborah. At her + feet he bowed, he fell, he lay down: at her feet he bowed, he fell: where + he bowed, there he fell down dead. Judges v. 27. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <p> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVIII + </h2> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Language of metrical composition, why and wherein essentially different + from that of prose—Origin and elements of metre—Its necessary + consequences, and the conditions thereby imposed on the metrical writer in + the choice of his diction. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + I conclude, therefore, that the attempt is impracticable; and that, were + it not impracticable, it would still be useless. For the very power of + making the selection implies the previous possession of the language + selected. Or where can the poet have lived? And by what rules could he + direct his choice, which would not have enabled him to select and arrange + his words by the light of his own judgment? We do not adopt the language + of a class by the mere adoption of such words exclusively, as that class + would use, or at least understand; but likewise by following the order, in + which the words of such men are wont to succeed each other. Now this + order, in the intercourse of uneducated men, is distinguished from the + diction of their superiors in knowledge and power, by the greater + disjunction and separation in the component parts of that, whatever it be, + which they wish to communicate. There is a want of that prospectiveness of + mind, that surview, which enables a man to foresee the whole of what he is + to convey, appertaining to any one point; and by this means so to + subordinate and arrange the different parts according to their relative + importance, as to convey it at once, and as an organized whole. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Now I will take the first stanza, on which I have chanced to open, in the + Lyrical Ballads. It is one the most simple and the least peculiar in its + language. + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “In distant countries have I been,<br> + And yet I have not often seen<br> + A healthy man, a man full grown,<br> + Weep in the public roads, alone.<br> + But such a one, on English ground,<br> + And in the broad highway, I met;<br> + Along the broad highway he came,<br> + His cheeks with tears were wet<br> + Sturdy he seemed, though he was sad;<br> + And in his arms a lamb he had.” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + The words here are doubtless such as are current in all ranks of life; and + of course not less so in the hamlet and cottage than in the shop, + manufactory, college, or palace. But is this the order, in which the + rustic would have placed the words? I am grievously deceived, if the + following less compact mode of commencing the same tale be not a far more + faithful copy. “I have been in a many parts, far and near, and I don’t + know that I ever saw before a man crying by himself in the public road; a + grown man I mean, that was neither sick nor hurt,” etc., etc. But when I + turn to the following stanza in The Thorn: + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “At all times of the day and night<br> + This wretched woman thither goes;<br> + And she is known to every star,<br> + And every wind that blows<br> + And there, beside the Thorn, she sits,<br> + When the blue day-light’s in the skies,<br> + And when the whirlwind’s on the hill,<br> + Or frosty air is keen and still,<br> + And to herself she cries,<br> + Oh misery! Oh misery!<br> + Oh woe is me! Oh misery!” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + and compare this with the language of ordinary men; or with that which I + can conceive at all likely to proceed, in real life, from such a narrator, + as is supposed in the note to the poem; compare it either in the + succession of the images or of the sentences; I am reminded of the sublime + prayer and hymn of praise, which Milton, in opposition to an established + liturgy, presents as a fair specimen of common extemporary devotion, and + such as we might expect to hear from every self-inspired minister of a + conventicle! And I reflect with delight, how little a mere theory, though + of his own workmanship, interferes with the processes of genuine + imagination in a man of true poetic genius, who possesses, as Mr. + Wordsworth, if ever man did, most assuredly does possess, + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “The Vision and the Faculty divine.” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + One point then alone remains, but that the most important; its examination + having been, indeed, my chief inducement for the preceding inquisition. + “There neither is nor can be any essential difference between the language + of prose and metrical composition.” Such is Mr. Wordsworth’s assertion. + Now prose itself, at least in all argumentative and consecutive works, + differs, and ought to differ, from the language of conversation; even as + <a href="#linknote-66" id="linknoteref-66">[66]</a> + reading ought to differ from talking. Unless therefore the difference + denied be that of the mere words, as materials common to all styles of + writing, and not of the style itself in the universally admitted sense of + the term, it might be naturally presumed that there must exist a still + greater between the ordonnance of poetic composition and that of prose, + than is expected to distinguish prose from ordinary conversation. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + There are not, indeed, examples wanting in the history of literature, of + apparent paradoxes that have summoned the public wonder as new and + startling truths, but which, on examination, have shrunk into tame and + harmless truisms; as the eyes of a cat, seen in the dark, have been + mistaken for flames of fire. But Mr. Wordsworth is among the last men, to + whom a delusion of this kind would be attributed by anyone, who had + enjoyed the slightest opportunity of understanding his mind and character. + Where an objection has been anticipated by such an author as natural, his + answer to it must needs be interpreted in some sense which either is, or + has been, or is capable of being controverted. My object then must be to + discover some other meaning for the term “essential difference” in this + place, exclusive of the indistinction and community of the words + themselves. For whether there ought to exist a class of words in the + English, in any degree resembling the poetic dialect of the Greek and + Italian, is a question of very subordinate importance. The number of such + words would be small indeed, in our language; and even in the Italian and + Greek, they consist not so much of different words, as of slight + differences in the forms of declining and conjugating the same words; + forms, doubtless, which having been, at some period more or less remote, + the common grammatic flexions of some tribe or province, had been + accidentally appropriated to poetry by the general admiration of certain + master intellects, the first established lights of inspiration, to whom + that dialect happened to be native. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Essence, in its primary signification, means the principle of + individuation, the inmost principle of the possibility of any thing, as + that particular thing. It is equivalent to the idea of a thing, whenever + we use the word, idea, with philosophic precision. Existence, on the other + hand, is distinguished from essence, by the superinduction of reality. + Thus we speak of the essence, and essential properties of a circle; but we + do not therefore assert, that any thing, which really exists, is + mathematically circular. Thus too, without any tautology we contend for + the existence of the Supreme Being; that is, for a reality correspondent + to the idea. There is, next, a secondary use of the word essence, in which + it signifies the point or ground of contra-distinction between two + modifications of the same substance or subject. Thus we should be allowed + to say, that the style of architecture of Westminster Abbey is essentially + different from that of St. Paul, even though both had been built with + blocks cut into the same form, and from the same quarry. Only in this + latter sense of the term must it have been denied by Mr. Wordsworth (for + in this sense alone is it affirmed by the general opinion) that the + language of poetry (that is the formal construction, or architecture, of + the words and phrases) is essentially different from that of prose. Now + the burden of the proof lies with the oppugner, not with the supporters of + the common belief. Mr. Wordsworth, in consequence, assigns as the proof of + his position, “that not only the language of a large portion of every good + poem, even of the most elevated character, must necessarily, except with + reference to the metre, in no respect differ from that of good prose, but + likewise that some of the most interesting parts of the best poems will be + found to be strictly the language of prose, when prose is well written. + The truth of this assertion might be demonstrated by innumerable passages + from almost all the poetical writings, even of Milton himself.” He then + quotes Gray’s sonnet— + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “In vain to me the smiling mornings shine,<br> + And reddening Phoebus lifts his golden fire;<br> + The birds in vain their amorous descant join,<br> + Or cheerful fields resume their green attire.<br> + These ears, alas! for other notes repine;<br> + <i>A different object do these eyes require;<br> + My lonely anguish melts no heart but mine;<br> + And in my breast the imperfect joys expire.</i><br> + Yet morning smiles the busy race to cheer,<br> + And new-born pleasure brings to happier men;<br> + The fields to all their wonted tribute bear;<br> + To warm their little loves the birds complain:<br> + <i>I fruitless mourn to him that cannot hear,<br> + And weep the more, because I weep in vain.”</i> +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + and adds the following remark:—“It will easily be perceived, that + the only part of this Sonnet which is of any value, is the lines printed + in italics; it is equally obvious, that, except in the rhyme, and in the + use of the single word `fruitless’ for fruitlessly, which is so far a + defect, the language of these lines does in no respect differ from that of + prose.” + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + An idealist defending his system by the fact, that when asleep we often + believe ourselves awake, was well answered by his plain neighbour, “Ah, + but when awake do we ever believe ourselves asleep?” Things identical must + be convertible. The preceding passage seems to rest on a similar sophism. + For the question is not, whether there may not occur in prose an order of + words, which would be equally proper in a poem; nor whether there are not + beautiful lines and sentences of frequent occurrence in good poems, which + would be equally becoming as well as beautiful in good prose; for neither + the one nor the other has ever been either denied or doubted by any one. + The true question must be, whether there are not modes of expression, a + construction, and an order of sentences, which are in their fit and + natural place in a serious prose composition, but would be + disproportionate and heterogeneous in metrical poetry; and, vice versa, + whether in the language of a serious poem there may not be an arrangement + both of words and sentences, and a use and selection of (what are called) + figures of speech, both as to their kind, their frequency, and their + occasions, which on a subject of equal weight would be vicious and alien + in correct and manly prose. I contend, that in both cases this unfitness + of each for the place of the other frequently will and ought to exist. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + And first from the origin of metre. This I would trace to the balance in + the mind effected by that spontaneous effort which strives to hold in + check the workings of passion. It might be easily explained likewise in + what manner this salutary antagonism is assisted by the very state, which + it counteracts; and how this balance of antagonists became organized into + metre (in the usual acceptation of that term), by a supervening act of the + will and judgment, consciously and for the foreseen purpose of pleasure. + Assuming these principles, as the data of our argument, we deduce from + them two legitimate conditions, which the critic is entitled to expect in + every metrical work. First, that, as the elements of metre owe their + existence to a state of increased excitement, so the metre itself should + be accompanied by the natural language of excitement. Secondly, that as + these elements are formed into metre artificially, by a voluntary act, + with the design and for the purpose of blending delight with emotion, so + the traces of present volition should throughout the metrical language be + proportionately discernible. Now these two conditions must be reconciled + and co- present. There must be not only a partnership, but a union; an + interpenetration of passion and of will, of spontaneous impulse and of + voluntary purpose. Again, this union can be manifested only in a frequency + of forms and figures of speech, (originally the offspring of passion, but + now the adopted children of power), greater than would be desired or + endured, where the emotion is not voluntarily encouraged and kept up for + the sake of that pleasure, which such emotion, so tempered and mastered by + the will, is found capable of communicating. It not only dictates, but of + itself tends to produce a more frequent employment of picturesque and + vivifying language, than would be natural in any other case, in which + there did not exist, as there does in the present, a previous and well + understood, though tacit, compact between the poet and his reader, that + the latter is entitled to expect, and the former bound to supply this + species and degree of pleasurable excitement. We may in some measure apply + to this union the answer of Polixenes, in the Winter’s Tale, to Perdita’s + neglect of the streaked gilliflowers, because she had heard it said, + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “There is an art, which, in their piedness, shares<br> + With great creating nature.<br> + POL. <span style="margin-left:15em;">Say there be;</span><br> + Yet nature is made better by no mean,<br> + But nature makes that mean; so, o’er that art,<br> + Which, you say, adds to nature, is an art,<br> + That nature makes. You see, sweet maid, we marry<br> + A gentler scion to the wildest stock;<br> + And make conceive a bark of baser kind<br> + By bud of nobler race. This is an art,<br> + Which does mend nature,—change it rather; but<br> + The art itself is nature.” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Secondly, I argue from the effects of metre. As far as metre acts in and + for itself, it tends to increase the vivacity and susceptibility both of + the general feelings and of the attention. This effect it produces by the + continued excitement of surprise, and by the quick reciprocations of + curiosity still gratified and still re-excited, which are too slight + indeed to be at any one moment objects of distinct consciousness, yet + become considerable in their aggregate influence. As a medicated + atmosphere, or as wine during animated conversation, they act powerfully, + though themselves unnoticed. Where, therefore, correspondent food and + appropriate matter are not provided for the attention and feelings thus + roused there must needs be a disappointment felt; like that of leaping in + the dark from the last step of a stair-case, when we had prepared our + muscles for a leap of three or four. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + The discussion on the powers of metre in the preface is highly ingenious + and touches at all points on truth. But I cannot find any statement of its + powers considered abstractly and separately. On the contrary Mr. + Wordsworth seems always to estimate metre by the powers, which it exerts + during, (and, as I think, in consequence of) its combination with other + elements of poetry. Thus the previous difficulty is left unanswered, what + the elements are, with which it must be combined, in order to produce its + own effects to any pleasurable purpose. Double and tri-syllable rhymes, + indeed, form a lower species of wit, and, attended to exclusively for + their own sake, may become a source of momentary amusement; as in poor + Smart’s distich to the Welsh Squire who had promised him a hare: + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “Tell me, thou son of great Cadwallader!<br> + Hast sent the hare? or hast thou swallow’d her?” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + But for any poetic purposes, metre resembles, (if the aptness of the + simile may excuse its meanness), yeast, worthless or disagreeable by + itself, but giving vivacity and spirit to the liquor with which it is + proportionally combined. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + The reference to THE CHILDREN IN THE WOOD by no means satisfies my + judgment. We all willingly throw ourselves back for awhile into the + feelings of our childhood. This ballad, therefore, we read under such + recollections of our own childish feelings, as would equally endear to us + poems, which Mr. Wordsworth himself would regard as faulty in the opposite + extreme of gaudy and technical ornament. Before the invention of printing, + and in a still greater degree, before the introduction of writing, metre, + especially alliterative metre, (whether alliterative at the beginning of + the words, as in PIERCE PLOUMAN, or at the end, as in rhymes) possessed an + independent value as assisting the recollection, and consequently the + preservation, of any series of truths or incidents. But I am not convinced + by the collation of facts, that THE CHILDREN IN THE WOOD owes either its + preservation, or its popularity, to its metrical form. Mr. Marshal’s + repository affords a number of tales in prose inferior in pathos and + general merit, some of as old a date, and many as widely popular. TOM + HICKATHRIFT, JACK THE GIANT-KILLER, GOODY TWO-SHOES, and LITTLE RED + RIDING-HOOD are formidable rivals. And that they have continued in prose, + cannot be fairly explained by the assumption, that the comparative + meanness of their thoughts and images precluded even the humblest forms of + metre. The scene of GOODY TWO-SHOES in the church is perfectly susceptible + of metrical narration; and, among the thaumata thaumastotata even of the + present age, I do not recollect a more astonishing image than that of the + “whole rookery, that flew out of the giant’s beard,” scared by the + tremendous voice, with which this monster answered the challenge of the + heroic TOM HICKATHRIFT! + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + If from these we turn to compositions universally, and independently of + all early associations, beloved and admired; would the MARIA, THE MONK, or + THE POOR MAN’S ASS of Sterne, be read with more delight, or have a better + chance of immortality, had they without any change in the diction been + composed in rhyme, than in their present state? If I am not grossly + mistaken, the general reply would be in the negative. Nay, I will confess, + that, in Mr. Wordsworth’s own volumes, the ANECDOTE FOR FATHERS, SIMON + LEE, ALICE FELL, BEGGARS, and THE SAILOR’S MOTHER, notwithstanding the + beauties which are to be found in each of them where the poet interposes + the music of his own thoughts, would have been more delightful to me in + prose, told and managed, as by Mr. Wordsworth they would have been, in a + moral essay or pedestrian tour. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Metre in itself is simply a stimulant of the attention, and therefore + excites the question: Why is the attention to be thus stimulated? Now the + question cannot be answered by the pleasure of the metre itself; for this + we have shown to be conditional, and dependent on the appropriateness of + the thoughts and expressions, to which the metrical form is superadded. + Neither can I conceive any other answer that can be rationally given, + short of this: I write in metre, because I am about to use a language + different from that of prose. Besides, where the language is not such, how + interesting soever the reflections are, that are capable of being drawn by + a philosophic mind from the thoughts or incidents of the poem, the metre + itself must often become feeble. Take the last three stanzas of THE + SAILOR’S MOTHER, for instance. If I could for a moment abstract from the + effect produced on the author’s feelings, as a man, by the incident at the + time of its real occurrence, I would dare appeal to his own judgment, + whether in the metre itself he found a sufficient reason for their being + written metrically? + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + And, thus continuing, she said,<br> + “I had a Son, who many a day<br> + Sailed on the seas; but he is dead;<br> + In Denmark he was cast away;<br> + And I have travelled far as Hull to see<br> + What clothes he might have left, or other property.<br> +<br> + The Bird and Cage they both were his<br> + ’Twas my Son’s Bird; and neat and trim<br> + He kept it: many voyages<br> + This Singing-bird hath gone with him;<br> + When last he sailed he left the Bird behind;<br> + As it might be, perhaps, from bodings of his mind.<br> +<br> + He to a Fellow-lodger’s care<br> + Had left it, to be watched and fed,<br> + Till he came back again; and there<br> + I found it when my Son was dead;<br> + And now, God help me for my little wit!<br> + I trail it with me, Sir! he took so much delight in it.” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + If disproportioning the emphasis we read these stanzas so as to make the + rhymes perceptible, even tri-syllable rhymes could scarcely produce an + equal sense of oddity and strangeness, as we feel here in finding rhymes + at all in sentences so exclusively colloquial. I would further ask + whether, but for that visionary state, into which the figure of the woman + and the susceptibility of his own genius had placed the poet’s + imagination,—(a state, which spreads its influence and colouring + over all, that co-exists with the exciting cause, and in which + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “The simplest, and the most familiar things<br> + Gain a strange power of spreading awe around them,”) <a href="#linknote-67" id="linknoteref-67">[67]</a> +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + I would ask the poet whether he would not have felt an abrupt downfall in + these verses from the preceding stanza? + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “The ancient spirit is not dead;<br> + Old times, thought I, are breathing there;<br> + Proud was I that my country bred<br> + Such strength, a dignity so fair:<br> + She begged an alms, like one in poor estate;<br> + I looked at her again, nor did my pride abate.” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + It must not be omitted, and is besides worthy of notice, that those + stanzas furnish the only fair instance that I have been able to discover + in all Mr. Wordsworth’s writings, of an actual adoption, or true + imitation, of the real and very language of low and rustic life, freed + from provincialisms. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Thirdly, I deduce the position from all the causes elsewhere assigned, + which render metre the proper form of poetry, and poetry imperfect and + defective without metre. Metre, therefore, having been connected with + poetry most often and by a peculiar fitness, whatever else is combined + with metre must, though it be not itself essentially poetic, have + nevertheless some property in common with poetry, as an intermedium of + affinity, a sort, (if I may dare borrow a well-known phrase from technical + chemistry), of mordaunt between it and the super-added metre. Now poetry, + Mr. Wordsworth truly affirms, does always imply passion: which word must + be here understood in its most general sense, as an excited state of the + feelings and faculties. And as every passion has its proper pulse, so will + it likewise have its characteristic modes of expression. But where there + exists that degree of genius and talent which entitles a writer to aim at + the honours of a poet, the very act of poetic composition itself is, and + is allowed to imply and to produce, an unusual state of excitement, which + of course justifies and demands a correspondent difference of language, as + truly, though not perhaps in as marked a degree, as the excitement of + love, fear, rage, or jealousy. The vividness of the descriptions or + declamations in Donne or Dryden, is as much and as often derived from the + force and fervour of the describer, as from the reflections, forms or + incidents, which constitute their subject and materials. The wheels take + fire from the mere rapidity of their motion. To what extent, and under + what modifications, this may be admitted to act, I shall attempt to define + in an after remark on Mr. Wordsworth’s reply to this objection, or rather + on his objection to this reply, as already anticipated in his preface. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Fourthly, and as intimately connected with this, if not the same argument + in a more general form, I adduce the high spiritual instinct of the human + being impelling us to seek unity by harmonious adjustment, and thus + establishing the principle that all the parts of an organized whole must + be assimilated to the more important and essential parts. This and the + preceding arguments may be strengthened by the reflection, that the + composition of a poem is among the imitative arts; and that imitation, as + opposed to copying, consists either in the interfusion of the same + throughout the radically different, or of the different throughout a base + radically the same. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Lastly, I appeal to the practice of the best poets, of all countries and + in all ages, as authorizing the opinion, (deduced from all the foregoing,) + that in every import of the word essential, which would not here involve a + mere truism, there may be, is, and ought to be an essential difference + between the language of prose and of metrical composition. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + In Mr. Wordsworth’s criticism of Gray’s Sonnet, the reader’s sympathy with + his praise or blame of the different parts is taken for granted rather + perhaps too easily. He has not, at least, attempted to win or compel it by + argumentative analysis. In my conception at least, the lines rejected as + of no value do, with the exception of the two first, differ as much and as + little from the language of common life, as those which he has printed in + italics as possessing genuine excellence. Of the five lines thus + honourably distinguished, two of them differ from prose even more widely, + than the lines which either precede or follow, in the position of the + words. + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “A different object do these eyes require;<br> + My lonely anguish melts no heart but mine;<br> + And in my breast the imperfect joys expire.” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + But were it otherwise, what would this prove, but a truth, of which no man + ever doubted?—videlicet, that there are sentences, which would be + equally in their place both in verse and prose. Assuredly it does not + prove the point, which alone requires proof; namely, that there are not + passages, which would suit the one and not suit the other. The first line + of this sonnet is distinguished from the ordinary language of men by the + epithet to morning. For we will set aside, at present, the consideration, + that the particular word “smiling” is hackneyed, and, as it involves a + sort of personification, not quite congruous with the common and material + attribute of “shining.” And, doubtless, this adjunction of epithets for + the purpose of additional description, where no particular attention is + demanded for the quality of the thing, would be noticed as giving a poetic + cast to a man’s conversation. Should the sportsman exclaim, “Come boys! + the rosy morning calls you up:” he will be supposed to have some song in + his head. But no one suspects this, when he says, “A wet morning shall not + confine us to our beds.” This then is either a defect in poetry, or it is + not. Whoever should decide in the affirmative, I would request him to + re-peruse any one poem, of any confessedly great poet from Homer to + Milton, or from Aeschylus to Shakespeare; and to strike out, (in thought I + mean), every instance of this kind. If the number of these fancied + erasures did not startle him; or if he continued to deem the work improved + by their total omission; he must advance reasons of no ordinary strength + and evidence, reasons grounded in the essence of human nature. Otherwise, + I should not hesitate to consider him as a man not so much proof against + all authority, as dead to it. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + The second line, + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “And reddening Phoebus lifts his golden fire;—” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + has indeed almost as many faults as words. But then it is a bad line, not + because the language is distinct from that of prose; but because it + conveys incongruous images; because it confounds the cause and the effect; + the real thing with the personified representative of the thing; in short, + because it differs from the language of good sense! That the “Phoebus” is + hackneyed, and a school-boy image, is an accidental fault, dependent on + the age in which the author wrote, and not deduced from the nature of the + thing. That it is part of an exploded mythology, is an objection more + deeply grounded. Yet when the torch of ancient learning was re-kindled, so + cheering were its beams, that our eldest poets, cut off by Christianity + from all accredited machinery, and deprived of all acknowledged guardians + and symbols of the great objects of nature, were naturally induced to + adopt, as a poetic language, those fabulous personages, those forms of the + <a href="#linknote-68" id="linknoteref-68">[68]</a>supernatural + in nature, which had given them such dear delight in the poems of their + great masters. Nay, even at this day what scholar of genial taste will not + so far sympathize with them, as to read with pleasure in Petrarch, + Chaucer, or Spenser, what he would perhaps condemn as puerile in a modern + poet? + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + I remember no poet, whose writings would safelier stand the test of Mr. + Wordsworth’s theory, than Spenser. Yet will Mr. Wordsworth say, that the + style of the following stanza is either undistinguished from prose, and + the language of ordinary life? Or that it is vicious, and that the stanzas + are blots in THE FAERY QUEEN? + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “By this the northern wagoner had set<br> + His sevenfold teme behind the stedfast starre,<br> + That was in ocean waves yet never wet,<br> + But firme is fixt and sendeth light from farre<br> + To all that in the wild deep wandering arre<br> + And chearfull chaunticlere with his note shrill<br> + Had warned once that Phoebus’ fiery carre<br> + In hast was climbing up the easterne hill,<br> + Full envious that night so long his roome did fill.”<br> +<br> + “At last the golden orientall gate<br> + Of greatest heaven gan to open fayre,<br> + And Phoebus fresh, as brydegrome to his mate,<br> + Came dauncing forth, shaking his deawie hayre,<br> + And hurl’d his glist’ring beams through gloomy ayre:<br> + Which when the wakeful elfe perceived, streightway<br> + He started up, and did him selfe prepayre<br> + In sun-bright armes and battailous array;<br> + For with that pagan proud he combat will that day.” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + On the contrary to how many passages, both in hymn books and in blank + verse poems, could I, (were it not invidious), direct the reader’s + attention, the style of which is most unpoetic, because, and only because, + it is the style of prose? He will not suppose me capable of having in my + mind such verses, as + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “I put my hat upon my head<br> + And walk’d into the Strand;<br> + And there I met another man,<br> + Whose hat was in his hand.” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + To such specimens it would indeed be a fair and full reply, that these + lines are not bad, because they are unpoetic; but because they are empty + of all sense and feeling; and that it were an idle attempt to prove that + “an ape is not a Newton, when it is self-evident that he is not a man.” + But the sense shall be good and weighty, the language correct and + dignified, the subject interesting and treated with feeling; and yet the + style shall, notwithstanding all these merits, be justly blamable as + prosaic, and solely because the words and the order of the words would + find their appropriate place in prose, but are not suitable to metrical + composition. The CIVIL WARS of Daniel is an instructive, and even + interesting work; but take the following stanzas, (and from the hundred + instances which abound I might probably have selected others far more + striking): + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “And to the end we may with better ease<br> + Discern the true discourse, vouchsafe to shew<br> + What were the times foregoing near to these,<br> + That these we may with better profit know.<br> + Tell how the world fell into this disease;<br> + And how so great distemperature did grow;<br> + So shall we see with what degrees it came;<br> + How things at full do soon wax out of frame.”<br> +<br> + “Ten kings had from the Norman Conqu’ror reign’d<br> + With intermix’d and variable fate,<br> + When England to her greatest height attain’d<br> + Of power, dominion, glory, wealth, and state;<br> + After it had with much ado sustain’d<br> + The violence of princes, with debate<br> + For titles and the often mutinies<br> + Of nobles for their ancient liberties.”<br> +<br> + “For first, the Norman, conqu’ring all by might,<br> + By might was forc’d to keep what he had got;<br> + Mixing our customs and the form of right<br> + With foreign constitutions, he had brought;<br> + Mast’ring the mighty, humbling the poorer wight,<br> + By all severest means that could be wrought;<br> + And, making the succession doubtful, rent<br> + His new-got state, and left it turbulent.”<br> +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Will it be contended on the one side, that these lines are mean and + senseless? Or on the other, that they are not prosaic, and for that reason + unpoetic? This poet’s well-merited epithet is that of the “well-languaged + Daniel;” but likewise, and by the consent of his contemporaries no less + than of all succeeding critics, “the prosaic Daniel.” Yet those, who thus + designate this wise and amiable writer from the frequent incorrespondency + of his diction to his metre in the majority of his compositions, not only + deem them valuable and interesting on other accounts; but willingly admit, + that there are to be found throughout his poems, and especially in his + EPISTLES and in his HYMEN’S TRIUMPH, many and exquisite specimens of that + style which, as the neutral ground of prose and verse, is common to both. + A fine and almost faultless extract, eminent as for other beauties, so for + its perfection in this species of diction, may be seen in Lamb’s DRAMATIC + SPECIMENS, a work of various interest from the nature of the selections + themselves, (all from the plays of Shakespeare’s contemporaries),—and + deriving a high additional value from the notes, which are full of just + and original criticism, expressed with all the freshness of originality. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Among the possible effects of practical adherence to a theory, that aims + to identify the style of prose and verse,—(if it does not indeed + claim for the latter a yet nearer resemblance to the average style of men + in the viva voce intercourse of real life)—we might anticipate the + following as not the least likely to occur. It will happen, as I have + indeed before observed, that the metre itself, the sole acknowledged + difference, will occasionally become metre to the eye only. The existence + of prosaisms, and that they detract from the merit of a poem, must at + length be conceded, when a number of successive lines can be rendered, + even to the most delicate ear, unrecognizable as verse, or as having even + been intended for verse, by simply transcribing them as prose; when if the + poem be in blank verse, this can be effected without any alteration, or at + most by merely restoring one or two words to their proper places, from + which they have been transplanted <a href="#linknote-69" id="linknoteref-69">[69]</a> for no assignable cause + or reason but that of the author’s convenience; but if it be in rhyme, by + the mere exchange of the final word of each line for some other of the + same meaning, equally appropriate, dignified and euphonic. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + The answer or objection in the preface to the anticipated remark “that + metre paves the way to other distinctions,” is contained in the following + words. “The distinction of rhyme and metre is regular and uniform, and + not, like that produced by (what is usually called) poetic diction, + arbitrary, and subject to infinite caprices, upon which no calculation + whatever can be made. In the one case the reader is utterly at the mercy + of the poet respecting what imagery or diction he may choose to connect + with the passion.” But is this a poet, of whom a poet is speaking? No + surely! rather of a fool or madman: or at best of a vain or ignorant + phantast! And might not brains so wild and so deficient make just the same + havoc with rhymes and metres, as they are supposed to effect with modes + and figures of speech? How is the reader at the mercy of such men? If he + continue to read their nonsense, is it not his own fault? The ultimate end + of criticism is much more to establish the principles of writing, than to + furnish rules how to pass judgment on what has been written by others; if + indeed it were possible that the two could be separated. But if it be + asked, by what principles the poet is to regulate his own style, if he do + not adhere closely to the sort and order of words which he hears in the + market, wake, high-road, or plough-field? I reply; by principles, the + ignorance or neglect of which would convict him of being no poet, but a + silly or presumptuous usurper of the name. By the principles of grammar, + logic, psychology. In one word by such a knowledge of the facts, material + and spiritual, that most appertain to his art, as, if it have been + governed and applied by good sense, and rendered instinctive by habit, + becomes the representative and reward of our past conscious reasonings, + insights, and conclusions, and acquires the name of Taste. By what rule + that does not leave the reader at the poet’s mercy, and the poet at his + own, is the latter to distinguish between the language suitable to + suppressed, and the language, which is characteristic of indulged, anger? + Or between that of rage and that of jealousy? Is it obtained by wandering + about in search of angry or jealous people in uncultivated society, in + order to copy their words? Or not far rather by the power of imagination + proceeding upon the all in each of human nature? By meditation, rather + than by observation? And by the latter in consequence only of the former? + As eyes, for which the former has pre-determined their field of vision, + and to which, as to its organ, it communicates a microscopic power? There + is not, I firmly believe, a man now living, who has, from his own inward + experience, a clearer intuition, than Mr. Wordsworth himself, that the + last mentioned are the true sources of genial discrimination. Through the + same process and by the same creative agency will the poet distinguish the + degree and kind of the excitement produced by the very act of poetic + composition. As intuitively will he know, what differences of style it at + once inspires and justifies; what intermixture of conscious volition is + natural to that state; and in what instances such figures and colours of + speech degenerate into mere creatures of an arbitrary purpose, cold + technical artifices of ornament or connection. For, even as truth is its + own light and evidence, discovering at once itself and falsehood, so is it + the prerogative of poetic genius to distinguish by parental instinct its + proper offspring from the changelings, which the gnomes of vanity or the + fairies of fashion may have laid in its cradle or called by its names. + Could a rule be given from without, poetry would cease to be poetry, and + sink into a mechanical art. It would be morphosis, not poiaesis. The rules + of the Imagination are themselves the very powers of growth and + production. The words to which they are reducible, present only the + outlines and external appearance of the fruit. A deceptive counterfeit of + the superficial form and colours may be elaborated; but the marble peach + feels cold and heavy, and children only put it to their mouths. We find no + difficulty in admitting as excellent, and the legitimate language of + poetic fervour self-impassioned, Donne’s apostrophe to the Sun in the + second stanza of his PROGRESS OF THE SOUL. + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “Thee, eye of heaven! this great Soul envies not;<br> + By thy male force is all, we have, begot.<br> + In the first East thou now beginn’st to shine,<br> + Suck’st early balm and island spices there,<br> + And wilt anon in thy loose-rein’d career<br> + At Tagus, Po, Seine, Thames, and Danow dine,<br> + And see at night this western world of mine:<br> + Yet hast thou not more nations seen than she,<br> + Who before thee one day began to be,<br> + And, thy frail light being quench’d, shall long, long outlive + <span style="margin-left:20em;">thee.”</span><br> +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Or the next stanza but one: + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “Great Destiny, the commissary of God,<br> + That hast mark’d out a path and period<br> + For every thing! Who, where we offspring took,<br> + Our ways and ends see’st at one instant: thou<br> + Knot of all causes! Thou, whose changeless brow<br> + Ne’er smiles nor frowns! O! vouchsafe thou to look,<br> + And shew my story in thy eternal book,” etc. +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + As little difficulty do we find in excluding from the honours of + unaffected warmth and elevation the madness prepense of pseudopoesy, or + the startling hysteric of weakness over-exerting itself, which bursts on + the unprepared reader in sundry odes and apostrophes to abstract terms. + Such are the Odes to jealousy, to Hope, to Oblivion, and the like, in + Dodsley’s collection and the magazines of that day, which seldom fail to + remind me of an Oxford copy of verses on the two SUTTONS, commencing with + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “Inoculation, heavenly maid! descend!” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + It is not to be denied that men of undoubted talents, and even poets of + true, though not of first-rate, genius, have from a mistaken theory + deluded both themselves and others in the opposite extreme. I once read to + a company of sensible and well-educated women the introductory period of + Cowley’s preface to his “Pindaric Odes,” written in imitation of the style + and manner of the odes of Pindar. “If,” (says Cowley), “a man should + undertake to translate Pindar, word for word, it would be thought that one + madman had translated another as may appear, when he, that understands not + the original, reads the verbal traduction of him into Latin prose, than + which nothing seems more raving.” I then proceeded with his own free + version of the second Olympic, composed for the charitable purpose of + rationalizing the Theban Eagle. + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “Queen of all harmonious things,<br> + Dancing words and speaking strings,<br> + What god, what hero, wilt thou sing?<br> + What happy man to equal glories bring?<br> + Begin, begin thy noble choice,<br> + And let the hills around reflect the image of thy voice.<br> + Pisa does to Jove belong,<br> + Jove and Pisa claim thy song.<br> + The fair first-fruits of war, th’ Olympic games,<br> + Alcides, offer’d up to Jove;<br> + Alcides, too, thy strings may move,<br> + But, oh! what man to join with these can worthy prove?<br> + Join Theron boldly to their sacred names;<br> + Theron the next honour claims;<br> + Theron to no man gives place,<br> + Is first in Pisa’s and in Virtue’s race;<br> + Theron there, and he alone,<br> + Ev’n his own swift forefathers has outgone.” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + One of the company exclaimed, with the full assent of the rest, that if + the original were madder than this, it must be incurably mad. I then + translated the ode from the Greek, and as nearly as possible, word for + word; and the impression was, that in the general movement of the periods, + in the form of the connections and transitions, and in the sober majesty + of lofty sense, it appeared to them to approach more nearly, than any + other poetry they had heard, to the style of our Bible, in the prophetic + books. The first strophe will suffice as a specimen: + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “Ye harp-controlling hymns! (or) ye hymns the sovereigns of harps!<br> + What God? what Hero?<br> + What Man shall we celebrate?<br> + Truly Pisa indeed is of Jove,<br> + But the Olympiad (or the Olympic games) did Hercules establish,<br> + The first-fruits of the spoils of war.<br> + But Theron for the four-horsed car,<br> + That bore victory to him,<br> + It behoves us now to voice aloud:<br> + The Just, the Hospitable,<br> + The Bulwark of Agrigentum,<br> + Of renowned fathers<br> + The Flower, even him<br> + Who preserves his native city erect and safe.” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + But are such rhetorical caprices condemnable only for their deviation from + the language of real life? and are they by no other means to be precluded, + but by the rejection of all distinctions between prose and verse, save + that of metre? Surely good sense, and a moderate insight into the + constitution of the human mind, would be amply sufficient to prove, that + such language and such combinations are the native product neither of the + fancy nor of the imagination; that their operation consists in the + excitement of surprise by the juxta-position and apparent reconciliation + of widely different or incompatible things. As when, for instance, the + hills are made to reflect the image of a voice. Surely, no unusual taste + is requisite to see clearly, that this compulsory juxtaposition is not + produced by the presentation of impressive or delightful forms to the + inward vision, nor by any sympathy with the modifying powers with which + the genius of the poet had united and inspirited all the objects of his + thought; that it is therefore a species of wit, a pure work of the will, + and implies a leisure and self-possession both of thought and of feeling, + incompatible with the steady fervour of a mind possessed and filled with + the grandeur of its subject. To sum up the whole in one sentence. When a + poem, or a part of a poem, shall be adduced, which is evidently vicious in + the figures and centexture of its style, yet for the condemnation of which + no reason can be assigned, except that it differs from the style in which + men actually converse, then, and not till then, can I hold this theory to + be either plausible, or practicable, or capable of furnishing either rule, + guidance, or precaution, that might not, more easily and more safely, as + well as more naturally, have been deduced in the author’s own mind from + considerations of grammar, logic, and the truth and nature of things, + confirmed by the authority of works, whose fame is not of one country nor + of one age. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <p> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIX + </h2> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Continuation—Concerning the real object which, it is probable, Mr. + Wordsworth had before him in his critical preface—Elucidation and + application of this. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + It might appear from some passages in the former part of Mr. Wordsworth’s + preface, that he meant to confine his theory of style, and the necessity + of a close accordance with the actual language of men, to those particular + subjects from low and rustic life, which by way of experiment he had + purposed to naturalize as a new species in our English poetry. But from + the train of argument that follows; from the reference to Milton; and from + the spirit of his critique on Gray’s sonnet; those sentences appear to + have been rather courtesies of modesty, than actual limitations of his + system. Yet so groundless does this system appear on a close examination; + and so strange and overwhelming <a href="#linknote-70" id="linknoteref-70">[70]</a> in its consequences, + that I cannot, and I do not, believe that the poet did ever himself adopt + it in the unqualified sense, in which his expressions have been understood + by others, and which, indeed, according to all the common laws of + interpretation they seem to bear. What then did he mean? I apprehend, that + in the clear perception, not unaccompanied with disgust or contempt, of + the gaudy affectations of a style which passed current with too many for + poetic diction, (though in truth it had as little pretensions to poetry, + as to logic or common sense,) he narrowed his view for the time; and + feeling a justifiable preference for the language of nature and of good + sense, even in its humblest and least ornamented forms, he suffered + himself to express, in terms at once too large and too exclusive, his + predilection for a style the most remote possible from the false and showy + splendour which he wished to explode. It is possible, that this + predilection, at first merely comparative, deviated for a time into direct + partiality. But the real object which he had in view, was, I doubt not, a + species of excellence which had been long before most happily + characterized by the judicious and amiable Garve, whose works are so + justly beloved and esteemed by the Germans, in his remarks on Gellert, + from which the following is literally translated. “The talent, that is + required in order to make, excellent verses, is perhaps greater than the + philosopher is ready to admit, or would find it in his power to acquire: + the talent to seek only the apt expression of the thought, and yet to find + at the same time with it the rhyme and the metre. Gellert possessed this + happy gift, if ever any one of our poets possessed it; and nothing perhaps + contributed more to the great and universal impression which his fables + made on their first publication, or conduces more to their continued + popularity. It was a strange and curious phaenomenon, and such as in + Germany had been previously unheard of, to read verses in which everything + was expressed just as one would wish to talk, and yet all dignified, + attractive, and interesting; and all at the same time perfectly correct as + to the measure of the syllables and the rhyme. It is certain, that poetry + when it has attained this excellence makes a far greater impression than + prose. So much so indeed, that even the gratification which the very + rhymes afford, becomes then no longer a contemptible or trifling + gratification.” <a href="#linknote-71" id="linknoteref-71">[71]</a></p> +<p> +However novel this phaenomenon may have been in Germany at the time +of Gellert, it is by no means new, nor yet of recent existence in our +language. Spite of the licentiousness with which Spenser occasionally +compels the orthography of his words into a subservience to his rhymes, +the whole FAIRY QUEEN is an almost continued instance of this beauty. +Waller’s song GO, LOVELY ROSE, is doubtless familiar to most of my +readers; but if I had happened to have had by me the Poems of Cotton, +more but far less deservedly celebrated as the author of the VIRGIL +TRAVESTIED, I should have indulged myself, and I think have gratified +many, who are not acquainted with his serious works, by selecting some +admirable specimens of this style. There are not a few poems in that +volume, replete with every excellence of thought, image, and passion, +which we expect or desire in the poetry of the milder muse; and yet so +worded, that the reader sees no one reason either in the selection or +the order of the words, why he might not have said the very same in an +appropriate conversation, and cannot conceive how indeed he could have +expressed such thoughts otherwise without loss or injury to his meaning. +</p> +<p> +But in truth our language is, and from the first dawn of poetry ever +has been, particularly rich in compositions distinguished by this +excellence. The final e, which is now mute, in Chaucer’s age was either +sounded or dropt indifferently. We ourselves still use either “beloved” or “belov’d” + according as the rhyme, or measure, or the purpose of more or less + solemnity may require. Let the reader then only adopt the pronunciation of + the poet and of the court, at which he lived, both with respect to the + final e and to the accentuation of the last syllable; I would then venture + to ask, what even in the colloquial language of elegant and unaffected + women, (who are the peculiar mistresses of “pure English and undefiled,”) + what could we hear more natural, or seemingly more unstudied, than the + following stanzas from Chaucer’s TROILUS AND CRESEIDE. + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “And after this forth to the gate he wente,<br> + Ther as Creseide out rode a ful gode pass,<br> + And up and doun there made he many’ a wente,<br> + And to himselfe ful oft he said, Alas!<br> + Fro hennis rode my blisse and my solas<br> + As woulde blisful God now for his joie,<br> + I might her sene agen come in to Troie!<br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">And to the yondir hil I gan her Bide,</span><br> + Alas! and there I toke of her my leve<br> + And yond I saw her to her fathir ride;<br> + For sorow of whiche mine hert shall to-cleve;<br> + And hithir home I came whan it was eve,<br> + And here I dwel, out-cast from ally joie,<br> + And steal, til I maie sene her efte in Troie.<br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">“And of himselfe imaginid he ofte</span><br> + To ben defaitid, pale and woxin lesse<br> + Than he was wonte, and that men saidin softe,<br> + What may it be? who can the sothe gesse,<br> + Why Troilus hath al this hevinesse?<br> + And al this n’ as but his melancolie,<br> + That he had of himselfe suche fantasie.<br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Anothir time imaginin he would</span><br> + That every wight, that past him by the wey,<br> + Had of him routhe, and that thei saien should,<br> + I am right sory, Troilus wol dey!<br> + And thus he drove a daie yet forth or twey,<br> + As ye have herde: suche life gan he to lede<br> + As he that stode betwixin hope and drede:<br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">For which him likid in his songis shewe</span><br> + Th’ encheson of his wo as he best might,<br> + And made a songe of words but a fewe,<br> + Somwhat his woful herte for to light,<br> + And whan he was from every mann’is sight<br> + With softe voice he of his lady dere,<br> + That absent was, gan sing as ye may here:<br> +<br> + * * * * * *<br> +<br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">This song, when he thus songin had, ful Bone</span><br> + He fil agen into his sighis olde<br> + And every night, as was his wonte to done;<br> + He stode the bright moone to beholde<br> + And all his sorowe to the moone he tolde,<br> + And said: I wis, whan thou art hornid newe,<br> + I shall be glad, if al the world be trewe!”<br> +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Another exquisite master of this species of style, where the scholar and + the poet supplies the material, but the perfect well-bred gentleman the + expressions and the arrangement, is George Herbert. As from the nature of + the subject, and the too frequent quaintness of the thoughts, his TEMPLE; + or SACRED POEMS AND PRIVATE EJACULATIONS are Comparatively but little + known, I shall extract two poems. The first is a sonnet, equally admirable + for the weight, number, and expression of the thoughts, and for the simple + dignity of the language. Unless, indeed, a fastidious taste should object + to the latter half of the sixth line. The second is a poem of greater + length, which I have chosen not only for the present purpose, but likewise + as a striking example and illustration of an assertion hazarded in a + former page of these sketches namely, that the characteristic fault of our + elder poets is the reverse of that, which distinguishes too many of our + more recent versifiers; the one conveying the most fantastic thoughts in + the most correct and natural language; the other in the most fantastic + language conveying the most trivial thoughts. The latter is a riddle of + words; the former an enigma of thoughts. The one reminds me of an odd + passage in Drayton’s IDEAS + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + As other men, so I myself do muse,<br> + Why in this sort I wrest invention so;<br> + And why these giddy metaphors I use,<br> + Leaving the path the greater part do go;<br> + I will resolve you: I am lunatic! <a href="#linknote-72" id="linknoteref-72">[72]</a> +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + The other recalls a still odder passage in THE SYNAGOGUE: or THE SHADOW OF + THE TEMPLE, a connected series of poems in imitation of Herbert’s TEMPLE, + and, in some editions, annexed to it. + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + <span style="margin-left:5em;">O how my mind</span><br> + <span style="margin-left:10em;">Is gravell’d!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left:15em;">Not a thought,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left:5em;">That I can find,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left:10em;">But’s ravell’d</span><br> + <span style="margin-left:15em;">All to nought!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left:5em;">Short ends of threds,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left:10em;">And narrow shreds</span><br> + <span style="margin-left:15em;">Of lists,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left:10em;">Knots, snarled ruffs,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left:15em;">Loose broken tufts</span><br> + <span style="margin-left:20em;">Of twists,</span><br> + Are my torn meditations ragged clothing,<br> + Which, wound and woven, shape a suit for nothing:<br> + One while I think, and then I am in pain<br> + To think how to unthink that thought again. +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Immediately after these burlesque passages I cannot proceed to the + extracts promised, without changing the ludicrous tone of feeling by the + interposition of the three following stanzas of Herbert’s. + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + VIRTUE.<br> +<br> + Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright,<br> + The bridal of the earth and sky,<br> + The dew shall weep thy fall to-night;<br> + <span style="margin-left:5em;">For thou must die.</span><br> +<br> + Sweet rose, whose hue angry and brave<br> + Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye<br> + Thy root is ever in its grave,<br> + <span style="margin-left:5em;">And thou must die.</span><br> +<br> + Sweet spring, full of sweet days and roses,<br> + A box, where sweets compacted lie<br> + My music shews, ye have your closes,<br> + <span style="margin-left:5em;">And all must die.</span> +</p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + THE BOSOM SIN:<br> + A SONNET BY GEORGE HERBERT.<br> +<br> + <span style="margin-left:5em;">Lord, with what care hast thou begirt us round,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left:5em;">Parents first season us; then schoolmasters</span><br> + <span style="margin-left:5em;">Deliver us to laws; they send us bound</span><br> + <span style="margin-left:5em;">To rules of reason, holy messengers,</span><br> + Pulpits and Sundays, sorrow dogging sin,<br> + <span style="margin-left:5em;">Afflictions sorted, anguish of all sizes,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left:5em;">Fine nets and stratagems to catch us in,</span><br> + Bibles laid open, millions of surprises;<br> + Blessings beforehand, ties of gratefulness,<br> + <span style="margin-left:5em;">The sound of Glory ringing in our ears</span><br> + <span style="margin-left:5em;">Without, our shame; within, our consciences;</span><br> + Angels and grace, eternal hopes and fears.<br> + <span style="margin-left:5em;">Yet all these fences and their whole array</span><br> + <span style="margin-left:5em;">One cunning bosom-sin blows quite away.</span> +</p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + LOVE UNKNOWN.<br> +<br> + Dear friend, sit down, the tale is long and sad<br> + And in my faintings, I presume, your love<br> + Will more comply than help. A Lord I had,<br> + And have, of whom some grounds, which may improve,<br> + I hold for two lives, and both lives in me.<br> + To him I brought a dish of fruit one day,<br> + And in the middle placed my heart. But he<br> + <span style="margin-left:20em;">(I sigh to say)</span><br> + Look’d on a servant, who did know his eye,<br> + Better than you know me, or (which is one)<br> + Than I myself. The servant instantly,<br> + Quitting the fruit, seiz’d on my heart alone,<br> + And threw it in a font, wherein did fall<br> + A stream of blood, which issued from the side<br> + Of a great rock: I well remember all,<br> + And have good cause: there it was dipt and dyed,<br> + And wash’d, and wrung: the very wringing yet<br> + Enforceth tears. “Your heart was foul, I fear.”<br> + Indeed ’tis true. I did and do commit<br> + Many a fault, more than my lease will bear;<br> + Yet still ask’d pardon, and was not denied.<br> + But you shall hear. After my heart was well,<br> + And clean and fair, as I one eventide<br> + <span style="margin-left:20em;">(I sigh to tell)</span><br> + Walk’d by myself abroad, I saw a large<br> + And spacious furnace flaming, and thereon<br> + A boiling caldron, round about whose verge<br> + Was in great letters set AFFLICTION.<br> + The greatness shew’d the owner. So I went<br> + To fetch a sacrifice out of my fold,<br> + Thinking with that, which I did thus present,<br> + To warm his love, which, I did fear, grew cold.<br> + But as my heart did tender it, the man<br> + Who was to take it from me, slipt his hand,<br> + And threw my heart into the scalding pan;<br> + My heart that brought it (do you understand?)<br> + The offerer’s heart. “Your heart was hard, I fear.”<br> + Indeed ’tis true. I found a callous matter<br> + Began to spread and to expatiate there:<br> + But with a richer drug than scalding water<br> + I bath’d it often, ev’n with holy blood,<br> + Which at a board, while many drank bare wine,<br> + A friend did steal into my cup for good,<br> + Ev’n taken inwardly, and most divine<br> + To supple hardnesses. But at the length<br> + Out of the caldron getting, soon I fled<br> + Unto my house, where to repair the strength<br> + Which I had lost, I hasted to my bed:<br> + But when I thought to sleep out all these faults,<br> + <span style="margin-left:20em;">(I sigh to speak)</span><br> + I found that some had stuff’d the bed with thoughts,<br> + I would say thorns. Dear, could my heart not break,<br> + When with my pleasures ev’n my rest was gone?<br> + Full well I understood who had been there:<br> + For I had given the key to none but one:<br> + It must be he. “Your heart was dull, I fear.”<br> + Indeed a slack and sleepy state of mind<br> + Did oft possess me; so that when I pray’d,<br> + Though my lips went, my heart did stay behind.<br> + But all my scores were by another paid,<br> + Who took my guilt upon him. “Truly, Friend,<br> + “For aught I hear, your Master shews to you<br> + “More favour than you wot of. Mark the end.<br> + “The font did only what was old renew<br> + “The caldron suppled what was grown too hard:<br> + “The thorns did quicken what was grown too dull:<br> + “All did but strive to mend what you had marr’d.<br> + “Wherefore be cheer’d, and praise him to the full<br> + “Each day, each hour, each moment of the week<br> + “Who fain would have you be new, tender quick.” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <p> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER XX + </h2> + <p> + </p> + <p> + The former subject continued—The neutral style, or that common to + Prose and Poetry, exemplified by specimens from Chaucer, Herbert, and + others. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + I have no fear in declaring my conviction, that the excellence defined and + exemplified in the preceding chapter is not the characteristic excellence + of Mr. Wordsworth’s style; because I can add with equal sincerity, that it + is precluded by higher powers. The praise of uniform adherence to genuine, + logical English is undoubtedly his; nay, laying the main emphasis on the + word uniform, I will dare add that, of all contemporary poets, it is his + alone. For, in a less absolute sense of the word, I should certainly + include Mr. Bowies, Lord Byron, and, as to all his later writings, Mr. + Southey, the exceptions in their works being so few and unimportant. But + of the specific excellence described in the quotation from Garve, I appear + to find more, and more undoubted specimens in the works of others; for + instance, among the minor poems of Mr. Thomas Moore, and of our + illustrious Laureate. To me it will always remain a singular and + noticeable fact; that a theory, which would establish this lingua + communis, not only as the best, but as the only commendable style, should + have proceeded from a poet, whose diction, next to that of Shakespeare and + Milton, appears to me of all others the most individualized and + characteristic. And let it be remembered too, that I am now interpreting + the controverted passages of Mr. Wordsworth’s critical preface by the + purpose and object, which he may be supposed to have intended, rather than + by the sense which the words themselves must convey, if they are taken + without this allowance. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + A person of any taste, who had but studied three or four of Shakespeare’s + principal plays, would without the name affixed scarcely fail to recognise + as Shakespeare’s a quotation from any other play, though but of a few + lines. A similar peculiarity, though in a less degree, attends Mr. + Wordsworth’s style, whenever he speaks in his own person; or whenever, + though under a feigned name, it is clear that he himself is still + speaking, as in the different dramatis personae of THE RECLUSE. Even in + the other poems, in which he purposes to be most dramatic, there are few + in which it does not occasionally burst forth. The reader might often + address the poet in his own words with reference to the persons + introduced: + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “It seems, as I retrace the ballad line by line<br> + That but half of it is theirs, and the better half is thine.” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Who, having been previously acquainted with any considerable portion of + Mr. Wordsworth’s publications, and having studied them with a full feeling + of the author’s genius, would not at once claim as Wordsworthian the + little poem on the rainbow? + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “The Child is father of the Man, etc.” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Or in the LUCY GRAY? + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “No mate, no comrade Lucy knew;<br> + She dwelt on a wide moor;<br> + The sweetest thing that ever grew<br> + Beside a human door.” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Or in the IDLE SHEPHERD-BOYS? + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “Along the river’s stony marge<br> + The sand-lark chants a joyous song;<br> + The thrush is busy in the wood,<br> + And carols loud and strong.<br> + A thousand lambs are on the rocks,<br> + All newly born! both earth and sky<br> + Keep jubilee, and more than all,<br> + Those boys with their green coronal;<br> + They never hear the cry,<br> + That plaintive cry! which up the hill<br> + Comes from the depth of Dungeon-Ghyll.” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Need I mention the exquisite description of the Sea-Loch in THE BLIND + HIGHLAND BOY. Who but a poet tells a tale in such language to the little + ones by the fire-side as— + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “Yet had he many a restless dream;<br> + Both when he heard the eagle’s scream,<br> + And when he heard the torrents roar,<br> + And heard the water beat the shore<br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Near where their cottage stood.</span><br> +<br> + Beside a lake their cottage stood,<br> + Not small like our’s, a peaceful flood;<br> + But one of mighty size, and strange;<br> + That, rough or smooth, is full of change,<br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">And stirring in its bed.</span><br> +<br> + For to this lake, by night and day,<br> + The great Sea-water finds its way<br> + Through long, long windings of the hills,<br> + And drinks up all the pretty rills<br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">And rivers large and strong:</span><br> +<br> + Then hurries back the road it came<br> + Returns on errand still the same;<br> + This did it when the earth was new;<br> + And this for evermore will do,<br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">As long as earth shall last.</span><br> + + And, with the coming of the tide,<br> + Come boats and ships that sweetly ride,<br> + Between the woods and lofty rocks;<br> + And to the shepherds with their flocks<br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Bring tales of distant lands.”</span><br> +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + I might quote almost the whole of his RUTH, but take the following + stanzas: + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + But, as you have before been told,<br> + This Stripling, sportive, gay, and bold,<br> + And, with his dancing crest,<br> + So beautiful, through savage lands<br> + Had roamed about with vagrant bands<br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Of Indians in the West.</span><br> +<br> + The wind, the tempest roaring high,<br> + The tumult of a tropic sky,<br> + Might well be dangerous food<br> + For him, a Youth to whom was given<br> + So much of earth—so much of heaven,<br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">And such impetuous blood.</span><br> +<br> + Whatever in those climes he found<br> + Irregular in sight or sound<br> + Did to his mind impart<br> + A kindred impulse, seemed allied<br> + To his own powers, and justified<br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">The workings of his heart.</span><br> +<br> + Nor less, to feed voluptuous thought,<br> + The beauteous forms of nature wrought,<br> + Fair trees and lovely flowers;<br> + The breezes their own languor lent;<br> + The stars had feelings, which they sent<br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Into those magic bowers.</span><br> +<br> + Yet in his worst pursuits, I ween,<br> + That sometimes there did intervene<br> + Pure hopes of high intent<br> + For passions linked to forms so fair<br> + And stately, needs must have their share<br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Of noble sentiment.”</span><br> +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + But from Mr. Wordsworth’s more elevated compositions, which already form + three-fourths of his works; and will, I trust, constitute hereafter a + still larger proportion;—from these, whether in rhyme or blank + verse, it would be difficult and almost superfluous to select instances of + a diction peculiarly his own, of a style which cannot be imitated without + its being at once recognised, as originating in Mr. Wordsworth. It would + not be easy to open on any one of his loftier strains, that does not + contain examples of this; and more in proportion as the lines are more + excellent, and most like the author. For those, who may happen to have + been less familiar with his writings, I will give three specimens taken + with little choice. The first from the lines on the BOY OF WINANDER-MERE,—who + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “Blew mimic hootings to the silent owls,<br> + That they might answer him.—And they would shout<br> + Across the watery vale, and shout again,<br> + With long halloos, and screams, and echoes loud<br> + Redoubled and redoubled; concourse wild<br> + Of mirth and jocund din! And when it chanced,<br> + That pauses of deep silence mocked his skill,<br> + Then sometimes in that silence, while he hung<br> + Listening, a gentle shock of mild surprise<br> + Has carried far into his heart the voice<br> + Of mountain-torrents; or the visible scene <a href="#linknote-73" id="linknoteref-73">[73]</a><br> + Would enter unawares into his mind<br> + With all its solemn imagery, its rocks,<br> + Its woods, and that uncertain heaven, received<br> + Into the bosom of the steady lake.” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + The second shall be that noble imitation of Drayton <a href="#linknote-74" id="linknoteref-74">[74]</a> (if it was not rather a + coincidence) in the lines TO JOANNA. + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + —“When I had gazed perhaps two minutes’ space,<br> + Joanna, looking in my eyes, beheld<br> + That ravishment of mine, and laughed aloud.<br> + The Rock, like something starting from a sleep,<br> + Took up the Lady’s voice, and laughed again!<br> + That ancient woman seated on Helm-crag<br> + Was ready with her cavern; Hammar-scar<br> + And the tall Steep of Silver-How sent forth<br> + A noise of laughter; southern Lougbrigg heard,<br> + And Fairfield answered with a mountain tone.<br> + Helvellyn far into the clear blue sky<br> + Carried the lady’s voice!—old Skiddaw blew<br> + His speaking trumpet!—back out of the clouds<br> + From Glaramara southward came the voice:<br> + And Kirkstone tossed it from its misty head!” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + The third, which is in rhyme, I take from the SONG AT THE FEAST OF + BROUGHAM CASTLE, upon the restoration of Lord Clifford, the Shepherd, to + the Estates and Honours of his Ancestors. + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + ———“Now another day is come,<br> + Fitter hope, and nobler doom;<br> + He hath thrown aside his crook,<br> + And hath buried deep his book;<br> + Armour rusting in his halls<br> + On the blood of Clifford calls,—<br> + ‘Quell the Scot,’ exclaims the Lance!<br> + Bear me to the heart of France,<br> + Is the longing of the Shield—<br> + Tell thy name, thou trembling Field!—<br> + Field of death, where’er thou be,<br> + Groan thou with our victory!<br> + Happy day, and mighty hour,<br> + When our Shepherd, in his power,<br> + Mailed and horsed, with lance and sword,<br> + To his ancestors restored,<br> + Like a re-appearing Star,<br> + Like a glory from afar,<br> + First shall head the flock of war!”<br> +<br> + “Alas! the fervent harper did not know,<br> + That for a tranquil Soul the Lay was framed,<br> + Who, long compelled in humble walks to go,<br> + Was softened into feeling, soothed, and tamed.<br> +<br> + Love had he found in huts where poor men lie;<br> + His daily teachers had been woods and rills,<br> + The silence that is in the starry sky,<br> + The sleep that is among the lonely hills.”<br> +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + The words themselves in the foregoing extracts, are, no doubt, + sufficiently common for the greater part.—But in what poem are they + not so, if we except a few misadventurous attempts to translate the arts + and sciences into verse? In THE EXCURSION the number of polysyllabic (or + what the common people call, dictionary) words is more than usually great. + And so must it needs be, in proportion to the number and variety of an + author’s conceptions, and his solicitude to express them with precision.—But + are those words in those places commonly employed in real life to express + the same thought or outward thing? Are they the style used in the ordinary + intercourse of spoken words? No! nor are the modes of connections; and + still less the breaks and transitions. Would any but a poet—at least + could any one without being conscious that he had expressed himself with + noticeable vivacity—have described a bird singing loud by, “The + thrush is busy in the wood?”—or have spoken of boys with a string of + club-moss round their rusty hats, as the boys “with their green coronal?”—or + have translated a beautiful May-day into “Both earth and sky keep + jubilee!”—or have brought all the different marks and circumstances + of a sealoch before the mind, as the actions of a living and acting power? + Or have represented the reflection of the sky in the water, as “That + uncertain heaven received into the bosom of the steady lake?” Even the + grammatical construction is not unfrequently peculiar; as “The wind, the + tempest roaring high, the tumult of a tropic sky, might well be dangerous + food to him, a youth to whom was given, etc.” There is a peculiarity in + the frequent use of the asymartaeton (that is, the omission of the + connective particle before the last of several words, or several sentences + used grammatically as single words, all being in the same case and + governing or governed by the same verb) and not less in the construction + of words by apposition (“to him, a youth”). In short, were there excluded + from Mr. Wordsworth’s poetic compositions all, that a literal adherence to + the theory of his preface would exclude, two thirds at least of the marked + beauties of his poetry must be erased. For a far greater number of lines + would be sacrificed than in any other recent poet; because the pleasure + received from Wordsworth’s poems being less derived either from excitement + of curiosity or the rapid flow of narration, the striking passages form a + larger proportion of their value. I do not adduce it as a fair criterion + of comparative excellence, nor do I even think it such; but merely as + matter of fact. I affirm, that from no contemporary writer could so many + lines be quoted, without reference to the poem in which they are found, + for their own independent weight or beauty. From the sphere of my own + experience I can bring to my recollection three persons of no every-day + powers and acquirements, who had read the poems of others with more and + more unallayed pleasure, and had thought more highly of their authors, as + poets; who yet have confessed to me, that from no modern work had so many + passages started up anew in their minds at different times, and as + different occasions had awakened a meditative mood. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <p> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXI + </h2> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Remarks on the present mode of conducting critical journals. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Long have I wished to see a fair and philosophical inquisition into the + character of Wordsworth, as a poet, on the evidence of his published + works; and a positive, not a comparative, appreciation of their + characteristic excellencies, deficiencies, and defects. I know no claim + that the mere opinion of any individual can have to weigh down the opinion + of the author himself; against the probability of whose parental + partiality we ought to set that of his having thought longer and more + deeply on the subject. But I should call that investigation fair and + philosophical in which the critic announces and endeavours to establish + the principles, which he holds for the foundation of poetry in general, + with the specification of these in their application to the different + classes of poetry. Having thus prepared his canons of criticism for praise + and condemnation, he would proceed to particularize the most striking + passages to which he deems them applicable, faithfully noticing the + frequent or infrequent recurrence of similar merits or defects, and as + faithfully distinguishing what is characteristic from what is accidental, + or a mere flagging of the wing. Then if his premises be rational, his + deductions legitimate, and his conclusions justly applied, the reader, and + possibly the poet himself, may adopt his judgment in the light of judgment + and in the independence of free-agency. If he has erred, he presents his + errors in a definite place and tangible form, and holds the torch and + guides the way to their detection. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + I most willingly admit, and estimate at a high value, the services which + the EDINBURGH REVIEW, and others formed afterwards on the same plan, have + rendered to society in the diffusion of knowledge. I think the + commencement of the EDINBURGH REVIEW an important epoch in periodical + criticism; and that it has a claim upon the gratitude of the literary + republic, and indeed of the reading public at large, for having originated + the scheme of reviewing those books only, which are susceptible and + deserving of argumentative criticism. Not less meritorious, and far more + faithfully and in general far more ably executed, is their plan of + supplying the vacant place of the trash or mediocrity, wisely left to sink + into oblivion by its own weight, with original essays on the most + interesting subjects of the time, religious, or political; in which the + titles of the books or pamphlets prefixed furnish only the name and + occasion of the disquisition. I do not arraign the keenness, or asperity + of its damnatory style, in and for itself, as long as the author is + addressed or treated as the mere impersonation of the work then under + trial. I have no quarrel with them on this account, as long as no personal + allusions are admitted, and no re-commitment (for new trial) of juvenile + performances, that were published, perhaps forgotten, many years before + the commencement of the review: since for the forcing back of such works + to public notice no motives are easily assignable, but such as are + furnished to the critic by his own personal malignity; or what is still + worse, by a habit of malignity in the form of mere wantonness. + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “No private grudge they need, no personal spite<br> + The viva sectio is its own delight!<br> + All enmity, all envy, they disclaim,<br> + Disinterested thieves of our good name:<br> + Cool, sober murderers of their neighbour’s fame!”<br> + <span style="margin-left: 20em;">S. T. C.</span><br> +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Every censure, every sarcasm respecting a publication which the critic, + with the criticised work before him, can make good, is the critic’s right. + The writer is authorized to reply, but not to complain. Neither can anyone + prescribe to the critic, how soft or how hard; how friendly, or how + bitter, shall be the phrases which he is to select for the expression of + such reprehension or ridicule. The critic must know, what effect it is his + object to produce; and with a view to this effect must he weigh his words. + But as soon as the critic betrays, that he knows more of his author, than + the author’s publications could have told him; as soon as from this more + intimate knowledge, elsewhere obtained, he avails himself of the slightest + trait against the author; his censure instantly becomes personal injury, + his sarcasms personal insults. He ceases to be a critic, and takes on him + the most contemptible character to which a rational creature can be + degraded, that of a gossip, backbiter, and pasquillant: but with this + heavy aggravation, that he steals the unquiet, the deforming passions of + the world into the museum; into the very place which, next to the chapel + and oratory, should be our sanctuary, and secure place of refuge; offers + abominations on the altar of the Muses; and makes its sacred paling the + very circle in which he conjures up the lying and profane spirit. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + This determination of unlicensed personality, and of permitted and + legitimate censure, (which I owe in part to the illustrious Lessing, + himself a model of acute, spirited, sometimes stinging, but always + argumentative and honourable, criticism) is beyond controversy the true + one: and though I would not myself exercise all the rights of the latter, + yet, let but the former be excluded, I submit myself to its exercise in + the hands of others, without complaint and without resentment. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Let a communication be formed between any number of learned men in the + various branches of science and literature; and whether the president and + central committee be in London, or Edinburgh, if only they previously lay + aside their individuality, and pledge themselves inwardly, as well as + ostensibly, to administer judgment according to a constitution and code of + laws; and if by grounding this code on the two-fold basis of universal + morals and philosophic reason, independent of all foreseen application to + particular works and authors, they obtain the right to speak each as the + representative of their body corporate; they shall have honour and good + wishes from me, and I shall accord to them their fair dignities, though + self-assumed, not less cheerfully than if I could inquire concerning them + in the herald’s office, or turn to them in the book of peerage. However + loud may be the outcries for prevented or subverted reputation, however + numerous and impatient the complaints of merciless severity and + insupportable despotism, I shall neither feel, nor utter aught but to the + defence and justification of the critical machine. Should any literary + Quixote find himself provoked by its sounds and regular movements, I + should admonish him with Sancho Panza, that it is no giant but a windmill; + there it stands on its own place, and its own hillock, never goes out of + its way to attack anyone, and to none and from none either gives or asks + assistance. When the public press has poured in any part of its produce + between its mill-stones, it grinds it off, one man’s sack the same as + another, and with whatever wind may happen to be then blowing. All the + two-and-thirty winds are alike its friends. Of the whole wide atmosphere + it does not desire a single finger-breadth more than what is necessary for + its sails to turn round in. But this space must be left free and + unimpeded. Gnats, beetles, wasps, butterflies, and the whole tribe of + ephemerals and insignificants, may flit in and out and between; may hum, + and buzz, and jar; may shrill their tiny pipes, and wind their puny horns, + unchastised and unnoticed. But idlers and bravadoes of larger size and + prouder show must beware, how they place themselves within its sweep. Much + less may they presume to lay hands on the sails, the strength of which is + neither greater nor less than as the wind is, which drives them round. + Whomsoever the remorseless arm slings aloft, or whirls along with it in + the air, he has himself alone to blame; though, when the same arm throws + him from it, it will more often double than break the force of his fall. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Putting aside the too manifest and too frequent interference of national + party, and even personal predilection or aversion; and reserving for + deeper feelings those worse and more criminal intrusions into the + sacredness of private life, which not seldom merit legal rather than + literary chastisement, the two principal objects and occasions which I + find for blame and regret in the conduct of the review in question are + first, its unfaithfulness to its own announced and excellent plan, by + subjecting to criticism works neither indecent nor immoral, yet of such + trifling importance even in point of size and, according to the critic’s + own verdict, so devoid of all merit, as must excite in the most candid + mind the suspicion, either that dislike or vindictive feelings were at + work; or that there was a cold prudential pre-determination to increase + the sale of the review by flattering the malignant passions of human + nature. That I may not myself become subject to the charge, which I am + bringing against others, by an accusation without proof, I refer to the + article on Dr. Rennell’s sermon in the very first number of the EDINBURGH + REVIEW as an illustration of my meaning. If in looking through all the + succeeding volumes the reader should find this a solitary instance, I must + submit to that painful forfeiture of esteem, which awaits a groundless or + exaggerated charge. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + The second point of objection belongs to this review only in common with + all other works of periodical criticism: at least, it applies in common to + the general system of all, whatever exception there may be in favour of + particular articles. Or if it attaches to THE EDINBURGH REVIEW, and to its + only corrival (THE QUARTERLY), with any peculiar force, this results from + the superiority of talent, acquirement, and information which both have so + undeniably displayed; and which doubtless deepens the regret though not + the blame. I am referring to the substitution of assertion for argument; + to the frequency of arbitrary and sometimes petulant verdicts, not seldom + unsupported even by a single quotation from the work condemned, which + might at least have explained the critic’s meaning, if it did not prove + the justice of his sentence. Even where this is not the case, the extracts + are too often made without reference to any general grounds or rules from + which the faultiness or inadmissibility of the qualities attributed may be + deduced; and without any attempt to show, that the qualities are + attributable to the passage extracted. I have met with such extracts from + Mr. Wordsworth’s poems, annexed to such assertions, as led me to imagine, + that the reviewer, having written his critique before he had read the + work, had then pricked with a pin for passages, wherewith to illustrate + the various branches of his preconceived opinions. By what principle of + rational choice can we suppose a critic to have been directed (at least in + a Christian country, and himself, we hope, a Christian) who gives the + following lines, portraying the fervour of solitary devotion excited by + the magnificent display of the Almighty’s works, as a proof and example of + an author’s tendency to downright ravings, and absolute unintelligibility? + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “O then what soul was his, when on the tops<br> + Of the high mountains he beheld the sun<br> + Rise up, and bathe the world in light! He looked—<br> + Ocean and earth, the solid frame of earth,<br> + And ocean’s liquid mass, beneath him lay<br> + In gladness and deep joy. The clouds were touched,<br> + And in their silent faces did he read<br> + Unutterable love. Sound needed none,<br> + Nor any voice of joy: his spirit drank<br> + The spectacle! sensation, soul, and form,<br> + All melted into him; they swallowed up<br> + His animal being; in them did he live,<br> + And by them did he live: they were his life.” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Can it be expected, that either the author or his admirers, should be + induced to pay any serious attention to decisions which prove nothing but + the pitiable state of the critic’s own taste and sensibility? On opening + the review they see a favourite passage, of the force and truth of which + they had an intuitive certainty in their own inward experience confirmed, + if confirmation it could receive, by the sympathy of their most + enlightened friends; some of whom perhaps, even in the world’s opinion, + hold a higher intellectual rank than the critic himself would presume to + claim. And this very passage they find selected, as the characteristic + effusion of a mind deserted by reason!—as furnishing evidence that + the writer was raving, or he could not have thus strung words together + without sense or purpose! No diversity of taste seems capable of + explaining such a contrast in judgment. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + That I had over-rated the merit of a passage or poem, that I had erred + concerning the degree of its excellence, I might be easily induced to + believe or apprehend. But that lines, the sense of which I had analysed + and found consonant with all the best convictions of my understanding; and + the imagery and diction of which had collected round those convictions my + noblest as well as my most delightful feelings; that I should admit such + lines to be mere nonsense or lunacy, is too much for the most ingenious + arguments to effect. But that such a revolution of taste should be brought + about by a few broad assertions, seems little less than impossible. On the + contrary, it would require an effort of charity not to dismiss the + criticism with the aphorism of the wise man, in animam malevolam sapientia + haud intrare potest. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + What then if this very critic should have cited a large number of single + lines and even of long paragraphs, which he himself acknowledges to + possess eminent and original beauty? What if he himself has owned, that + beauties as great are scattered in abundance throughout the whole book? + And yet, though under this impression, should have commenced his critique + in vulgar exultation with a prophecy meant to secure its own fulfilment? + With a “This won’t do!” What? if after such acknowledgments extorted from + his own judgment he should proceed from charge to charge of tameness and + raving; flights and flatness; and at length, consigning the author to the + house of incurables, should conclude with a strain of rudest contempt + evidently grounded in the distempered state of his own moral associations? + Suppose too all this done without a single leading principle established + or even announced, and without any one attempt at argumentative deduction, + though the poet had presented a more than usual opportunity for it, by + having previously made public his own principles of judgment in poetry, + and supported them by a connected train of reasoning! + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + The office and duty of the poet is to select the most dignified as well as + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “The gayest, happiest attitude of things.” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + The reverse, for in all cases a reverse is possible, is the appropriate + business of burlesque and travesty, a predominant taste for which has been + always deemed a mark of a low and degraded mind. When I was at Rome, among + many other visits to the tomb of Julius II. I went thither once with a + Prussian artist, a man of genius and great vivacity of feeling. As we were + gazing on Michael Angelo’s MOSES, our conversation turned on the horns and + beard of that stupendous statue; of the necessity of each to support the + other; of the super-human effect of the former, and the necessity of the + existence of both to give a harmony and integrity both to the image and + the feeling excited by it. Conceive them removed, and the statue would + become un-natural, without being super-natural. We called to mind the + horns of the rising sun, and I repeated the noble passage from Taylor’s + HOLY DYING. That horns were the emblem of power and sovereignty among the + Eastern nations, and are still retained as such in Abyssinia; the Achelous + of the ancient Greeks; and the probable ideas and feelings, that + originally suggested the mixture of the human and the brute form in the + figure, by which they realized the idea of their mysterious Pan, as + representing intelligence blended with a darker power, deeper, mightier, + and more universal than the conscious intellect of man; than intelligence;—all + these thoughts and recollections passed in procession before our minds. My + companion who possessed more than his share of the hatred, which his + countrymen bore to the French, had just observed to me, “a Frenchman, Sir! + is the only animal in the human shape, that by no possibility can lift + itself up to religion or poetry:” when, lo! two French officers of + distinction and rank entered the church! “Mark you,” whispered the + Prussian, “the first thing which those scoundrels will notice—(for + they will begin by instantly noticing the statue in parts, without one + moment’s pause of admiration impressed by the whole)—will be the + horns and the beard. And the associations, which they will immediately + connect with them will be those of a he-goat and a cuckold.” Never did man + guess more luckily. Had he inherited a portion of the great legislator’s + prophetic powers, whose statue we had been contemplating, he could + scarcely have uttered words more coincident with the result: for even as + he had said, so it came to pass. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + In THE EXCURSION the poet has introduced an old man, born in humble but + not abject circumstances, who had enjoyed more than usual advantages of + education, both from books and from the more awful discipline of nature. + This person he represents, as having been driven by the restlessness of + fervid feelings, and from a craving intellect to an itinerant life; and as + having in consequence passed the larger portion of his time, from earliest + manhood, in villages and hamlets from door to door, + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “A vagrant Merchant bent beneath his load.” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Now whether this be a character appropriate to a lofty didactick poem, is + perhaps questionable. It presents a fair subject for controversy; and the + question is to be determined by the congruity or incongruity of such a + character with what shall be proved to be the essential constituents of + poetry. But surely the critic who, passing by all the opportunities which + such a mode of life would present to such a man; all the advantages of the + liberty of nature, of solitude, and of solitary thought; all the varieties + of places and seasons, through which his track had lain, with all the + varying imagery they bring with them; and lastly, all the observations of + men, + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “Their manners, their enjoyments, and pursuits,<br> + Their passions and their feelings=” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + which the memory of these yearly journeys must have given and recalled to + such a mind—the critic, I say, who from the multitude of possible + associations should pass by all these in order to fix his attention + exclusively on the pin-papers, and stay-tapes, which might have been among + the wares of his pack; this critic, in my opinion, cannot be thought to + possess a much higher or much healthier state of moral feeling, than the + Frenchmen above recorded. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <p> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXII + </h2> + <p> + </p> + <p> + The characteristic defects of Wordsworth’s poetry, with the principles + from which the judgment, that they are defects, is deduced—Their + proportion to the beauties—For the greatest part characteristic of + his theory only. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + If Mr. Wordsworth have set forth principles of poetry which his arguments + are insufficient to support, let him and those who have adopted his + sentiments be set right by the confutation of those arguments, and by the + substitution of more philosophical principles. And still let the due + credit be given to the portion and importance of the truths, which are + blended with his theory; truths, the too exclusive attention to which had + occasioned its errors, by tempting him to carry those truths beyond their + proper limits. If his mistaken theory have at all influenced his poetic + compositions, let the effects be pointed out, and the instances given. But + let it likewise be shown, how far the influence has acted; whether + diffusively, or only by starts; whether the number and importance of the + poems and passages thus infected be great or trifling compared with the + sound portion; and lastly, whether they are inwoven into the texture of + his works, or are loose and separable. The result of such a trial would + evince beyond a doubt, what it is high time to announce decisively and + aloud, that the supposed characteristics of Mr. Wordsworth’s poetry, + whether admired or reprobated; whether they are simplicity or simpleness; + faithful adherence to essential nature, or wilful selections from human + nature of its meanest forms and under the least attractive associations; + are as little the real characteristics of his poetry at large, as of his + genius and the constitution of his mind. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + In a comparatively small number of poems he chose to try an experiment; + and this experiment we will suppose to have failed. Yet even in these + poems it is impossible not to perceive that the natural tendency of the + poet’s mind is to great objects and elevated conceptions. The poem + entitled FIDELITY is for the greater part written in language, as unraised + and naked as any perhaps in the two volumes. Yet take the following stanza + and compare it with the preceding stanzas of the same poem. + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “There sometimes doth a leaping fish<br> + Send through the tarn a lonely cheer;<br> + The crags repeat the raven’s croak,<br> + In symphony austere;<br> + Thither the rainbow comes—the cloud—<br> + And mists that spread the flying shroud;<br> + And sun-beams; and the sounding blast,<br> + That, if it could, would hurry past;<br> + But that enormous barrier holds it fast.” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Or compare the four last lines of the concluding stanza with the former + half. + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “Yes, proof was plain that, since the day<br> + On which the Traveller thus had died,<br> + The Dog had watched about the spot,<br> + Or by his Master’s side:<br> + How nourish’d here through such long time<br> + He knows, who gave that love sublime,—<br> + And gave that strength of feeling, great<br> + Above all human estimate!” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Can any candid and intelligent mind hesitate in determining, which of + these best represents the tendency and native character of the poet’s + genius? Will he not decide that the one was written because the poet would + so write, and the other because he could not so entirely repress the force + and grandeur of his mind, but that he must in some part or other of every + composition write otherwise? In short, that his only disease is the being + out of his element; like the swan, that, having amused himself, for a + while, with crushing the weeds on the river’s bank, soon returns to his + own majestic movements on its reflecting and sustaining surface. Let it be + observed that I am here supposing the imagined judge, to whom I appeal, to + have already decided against the poet’s theory, as far as it is different + from the principles of the art, generally acknowledged. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + I cannot here enter into a detailed examination of Mr. Wordsworth’s works; + but I will attempt to give the main results of my own judgment, after an + acquaintance of many years, and repeated perusals. And though, to + appreciate the defects of a great mind it is necessary to understand + previously its characteristic excellences, yet I have already expressed + myself with sufficient fulness, to preclude most of the ill effects that + might arise from my pursuing a contrary arrangement. I will therefore + commence with what I deem the prominent defects of his poems hitherto + published. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + The first characteristic, though only occasional defect, which I appear to + myself to find in these poems is the inconstancy of the style. Under this + name I refer to the sudden and unprepared transitions from lines or + sentences of peculiar felicity—(at all events striking and original)—to + a style, not only unimpassioned but undistinguished. He sinks too often + and too abruptly to that style, which I should place in the second + division of language, dividing it into the three species; first, that + which is peculiar to poetry; second, that which is only proper in prose; + and third, the neutral or common to both. There have been works, such as + Cowley’s Essay on Cromwell, in which prose and verse are intermixed (not + as in the Consolation of Boetius, or the ARGENIS of Barclay, by the + insertion of poems supposed to have been spoken or composed on occasions + previously related in prose, but) the poet passing from one to the other, + as the nature of the thoughts or his own feelings dictated. Yet this mode + of composition does not satisfy a cultivated taste. There is something + unpleasant in the being thus obliged to alternate states of feeling so + dissimilar, and this too in a species of writing, the pleasure from which + is in part derived from the preparation and previous expectation of the + reader. A portion of that awkwardness is felt which hangs upon the + introduction of songs in our modern comic operas; and to prevent which the + judicious Metastasio (as to whose exquisite taste there can be no + hesitation, whatever doubts may be entertained as to his poetic genius) + uniformly placed the aria at the end of the scene, at the same time that + he almost always raises and impassions the style of the recitative + immediately preceding. Even in real life, the difference is great and + evident between words used as the arbitrary marks of thought, our smooth + market-coin of intercourse, with the image and superscription worn out by + currency; and those which convey pictures either borrowed from one outward + object to enliven and particularize some other; or used allegorically to + body forth the inward state of the person speaking; or such as are at + least the exponents of his peculiar turn and unusual extent of faculty. So + much so indeed, that in the social circles of private life we often find a + striking use of the latter put a stop to the general flow of conversation, + and by the excitement arising from concentred attention produce a sort of + damp and interruption for some minutes after. But in the perusal of works + of literary art, we prepare ourselves for such language; and the business + of the writer, like that of a painter whose subject requires unusual + splendour and prominence, is so to raise the lower and neutral tints, that + what in a different style would be the commanding colours, are here used + as the means of that gentle degradation requisite in order to produce the + effect of a whole. Where this is not achieved in a poem, the metre merely + reminds the reader of his claims in order to disappoint them; and where + this defect occurs frequently, his feelings are alternately startled by + anticlimax and hyperclimax. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + I refer the reader to the exquisite stanzas cited for another purpose from + THE BLIND HIGHLAND BOY; and then annex, as being in my opinion instances + of this disharmony in style, the two following: + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “And one, the rarest, was a shell,<br> + Which he, poor child, had studied well:<br> + The shell of a green turtle, thin<br> + And hollow;—you might sit therein,<br> + <span style="margin-left: 10em;">It was so wide, and deep.”</span><br> +<br> + “Our Highland Boy oft visited<br> + The house which held this prize; and, led<br> + By choice or chance, did thither come<br> + One day, when no one was at home,<br> + <span style="margin-left: 10em;">And found the door unbarred.”</span><br> +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Or page 172, vol. I. + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “’Tis gone forgotten, let me do<br> + My best. There was a smile or two—<br> + I can remember them, I see<br> + The smiles worth all the world to me.<br> + Dear Baby! I must lay thee down:<br> + Thou troublest me with strange alarms;<br> + Smiles hast thou, sweet ones of thine own;<br> + I cannot keep thee in my arms;<br> + For they confound me: as it is,<br> + I have forgot those smiles of his!”<br> +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Or page 269, vol. I. + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “Thou hast a nest, for thy love and thy rest<br> + And though little troubled with sloth<br> + Drunken lark! thou would’st be loth<br> + To be such a traveller as I.<br> + <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Happy, happy liver!</span><br> + <i>With a soul as strong as a mountain river<br> + Pouring out praise to th’ Almighty giver,</i><br> + Joy and jollity be with us both!<br> + Hearing thee or else some other,<br> + <span style="margin-left: 10em;">As merry a brother</span><br> + I on the earth will go plodding on<br> + By myself cheerfully till the day is done.” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + The incongruity, which I appear to find in this passage, is that of the + two noble lines in italics with the preceding and following. So vol. II. + page 30. + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “Close by a Pond, upon the further side,<br> + He stood alone; a minute’s space I guess,<br> + I watch’d him, he continuing motionless<br> + To the Pool’s further margin then I drew;<br> + He being all the while before me full in view.” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Compare this with the repetition of the same image, the next stanza but + two. + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “And, still as I drew near with gentle pace,<br> + Beside the little pond or moorish flood<br> + Motionless as a Cloud the Old Man stood,<br> + That heareth not the loud winds when they call;<br> + And moveth altogether, if it move at all.” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Or lastly, the second of the three following stanzas, compared both with + the first and the third. + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “My former thoughts returned; the fear that kills;<br> + And hope that is unwilling to be fed;<br> + Cold, pain, and labour, and all fleshly ills;<br> + And mighty Poets in their misery dead.<br> + But now, perplex’d by what the Old Man had said,<br> + My question eagerly did I renew,<br> + ‘How is it that you live, and what is it you do?’<br> +<br> + “He with a smile did then his words repeat;<br> + And said, that gathering Leeches far and wide<br> + He travell’d; stirring thus about his feet<br> + The waters of the Ponds where they abide.<br> + `Once I could meet with them on every side;<br> + ‘But they have dwindled long by slow decay;<br> + ‘Yet still I persevere, and find them where I may.’<br> +<br> + While he was talking thus, the lonely place,<br> + The Old Man’s shape, and speech, all troubled me<br> + In my mind’s eye I seemed to see him pace<br> + About the weary moors continually,<br> + Wandering about alone and silently.”<br> +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Indeed this fine poem is especially characteristic of the author. There is + scarce a defect or excellence in his writings of which it would not + present a specimen. But it would be unjust not to repeat that this defect + is only occasional. From a careful reperusal of the two volumes of poems, + I doubt whether the objectionable passages would amount in the whole to + one hundred lines; not the eighth part of the number of pages. In THE + EXCURSION the feeling of incongruity is seldom excited by the diction of + any passage considered in itself, but by the sudden superiority of some + other passage forming the context. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + The second defect I can generalize with tolerable accuracy, if the reader + will pardon an uncouth and new-coined word. There is, I should say, not + seldom a matter-of-factness in certain poems. This may be divided into, + first, a laborious minuteness and fidelity in the representation of + objects, and their positions, as they appeared to the poet himself; + secondly, the insertion of accidental circumstances, in order to the full + explanation of his living characters, their dispositions and actions; + which circumstances might be necessary to establish the probability of a + statement in real life, where nothing is taken for granted by the hearer; + but appear superfluous in poetry, where the reader is willing to believe + for his own sake. To this actidentality I object, as contravening the + essence of poetry, which Aristotle pronounces to be spoudaiotaton kai + philosophotaton genos, the most intense, weighty and philosophical product + of human art; adding, as the reason, that it is the most catholic and + abstract. The following passage from Davenant’s prefatory letter to Hobbes + well expresses this truth. “When I considered the actions which I meant to + describe; (those inferring the persons), I was again persuaded rather to + choose those of a former age, than the present; and in a century so far + removed, as might preserve me from their improper examinations, who know + not the requisites of a poem, nor how much pleasure they lose, (and even + the pleasures of heroic poesy are not unprofitable), who take away the + liberty of a poet, and fetter his feet in the shackles of an historian. + For why should a poet doubt in story to mend the intrigues of fortune by + more delightful conveyances of probable fictions, because austere + historians have entered into bond to truth? An obligation, which were in + poets as foolish and unnecessary, as is the bondage of false martyrs, who + lie in chains for a mistaken opinion. But by this I would imply, that + truth, narrative and past, is the idol of historians, (who worship a dead + thing), and truth operative, and by effects continually alive, is the + mistress of poets, who hath not her existence in matter, but in reason.” + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + For this minute accuracy in the painting of local imagery, the lines in + THE EXCURSION, pp. 96, 97, and 98, may be taken, if not as a striking + instance, yet as an illustration of my meaning. It must be some strong + motive—(as, for instance, that the description was necessary to the + intelligibility of the tale)—which could induce me to describe in a + number of verses what a draughtsman could present to the eye with + incomparably greater satisfaction by half a dozen strokes of his pencil, + or the painter with as many touches of his brush. Such descriptions too + often occasion in the mind of a reader, who is determined to understand + his author, a feeling of labour, not very dissimilar to that, with which + he would construct a diagram, line by line, for a long geometrical + proposition. It seems to be like taking the pieces of a dissected map out + of its box. We first look at one part, and then at another, then join and + dove-tail them; and when the successive acts of attention have been + completed, there is a retrogressive effort of mind to behold it as a + whole. The poet should paint to the imagination, not to the fancy; and I + know no happier case to exemplify the distinction between these two + faculties. Master-pieces of the former mode of poetic painting abound in + the writings of Milton, for example: + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “The fig-tree; not that kind for fruit renown’d,<br> + “But such as at this day, to Indians known,<br> + “In Malabar or Decan spreads her arms<br> + “Branching so broad and long, that in the ground<br> + “The bended twigs take root, and daughters grow<br> + “About the mother tree, a pillar’d shade<br> + “High over-arch’d and ECHOING WALKS BETWEEN;<br> + “There oft the Indian herdsman, shunning heat,<br> + “Shelters in cool, and tends his pasturing herds<br> + “At hoop-holes cut through thickest shade.” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + This is creation rather than painting, or if painting, yet such, and with + such co-presence of the whole picture flashed at once upon the eye, as the + sun paints in a camera obscura. But the poet must likewise understand and + command what Bacon calls the vestigia communia of the senses, the latency + of all in each, and more especially as by a magical penny duplex, the + excitement of vision by sound and the exponents of sound. Thus, “The + echoing walks between,” may be almost said to reverse the fable in + tradition of the head of Memnon, in the Egyptian statue. Such may be + deservedly entitled the creative words in the world of imagination. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + The second division respects an apparent minute adherence to matter- + of-fact in character and Incidents; a biographical attention to + probability, and an anxiety of explanation and retrospect. Under this head + I shall deliver, with no feigned diffidence, the results of my best + reflection on the great point of controversy between Mr. Wordsworth and + his objectors; namely, on the choice of his characters. I have already + declared, and, I trust justified, my utter dissent from the mode of + argument which his critics have hitherto employed. To their question, “Why + did you choose such a character, or a character from such a rank of life?”—the + poet might in my opinion fairly retort: why with the conception of my + character did you make wilful choice of mean or ludicrous associations not + furnished by me, but supplied from your own sickly and fastidious + feelings? How was it, indeed, probable, that such arguments could have any + weight with an author, whose plan, whose guiding principle, and main + object it was to attack and subdue that state of association, which leads + us to place the chief value on those things on which man differs from man, + and to forget or disregard the high dignities, which belong to Human + Nature, the sense and the feeling, which may be, and ought to be, found in + all ranks? The feelings with which, as Christians, we contemplate a mixed + congregation rising or kneeling before their common Maker, Mr. Wordsworth + would have us entertain at all times, as men, and as readers; and by the + excitement of this lofty, yet prideless impartiality in poetry, he might + hope to have encouraged its continuance in real life. The praise of good + men be his! In real life, and, I trust, even in my imagination, I honour a + virtuous and wise man, without reference to the presence or absence of + artificial advantages. Whether in the person of an armed baron, a + laurelled bard, or of an old Pedlar, or still older Leech-gatherer, the + same qualities of head and heart must claim the same reverence. And even + in poetry I am not conscious, that I have ever suffered my feelings to be + disturbed or offended by any thoughts or images, which the poet himself + has not presented. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + But yet I object, nevertheless, and for the following reasons. First, + because the object in view, as an immediate object, belongs to the moral + philosopher, and would be pursued, not only more appropriately, but in my + opinion with far greater probability of success, in sermons or moral + essays, than in an elevated poem. It seems, indeed, to destroy the main + fundamental distinction, not only between a poem and prose, but even + between philosophy and works of fiction, inasmuch as it proposes truth for + its immediate object, instead of pleasure. Now till the blessed time shall + come, when truth itself shall be pleasure, and both shall be so united, as + to be distinguishable in words only, not in feeling, it will remain the + poet’s office to proceed upon that state of association, which actually + exists as general; instead of attempting first to make it what it ought to + be, and then to let the pleasure follow. But here is unfortunately a small + hysteron-proteron. For the communication of pleasure is the introductory + means by which alone the poet must expect to moralize his readers. + Secondly: though I were to admit, for a moment, this argument to be + groundless: yet how is the moral effect to be produced, by merely + attaching the name of some low profession to powers which are least + likely, and to qualities which are assuredly not more likely, to be found + in it? The Poet, speaking in his own person, may at once delight and + improve us by sentiments, which teach us the independence of goodness, of + wisdom, and even of genius, on the favours of fortune. And having made a + due reverence before the throne of Antonine, he may bow with equal awe + before Epictetus among his fellow-slaves + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + <span style="margin-left: 20em;">———“and rejoice</span><br> + In the plain presence of his dignity.” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Who is not at once delighted and improved, when the Poet Wordsworth + himself exclaims, + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “Oh! many are the Poets that are sown<br> + By Nature; men endowed with highest gifts<br> + The vision and the faculty divine,<br> + Yet wanting the accomplishment of verse,<br> + Nor having e’er, as life advanced, been led<br> + By circumstance to take unto the height<br> + The measure of themselves, these favoured Beings,<br> + All but a scattered few, live out their time,<br> + Husbanding that which they possess within,<br> + And go to the grave, unthought of. Strongest minds<br> + Are often those of whom the noisy world<br> + Hears least.” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + To use a colloquial phrase, such sentiments, in such language, do one’s + heart good; though I for my part, have not the fullest faith in the truth + of the observation. On the contrary I believe the instances to be + exceedingly rare; and should feel almost as strong an objection to + introduce such a character in a poetic fiction, as a pair of black swans + on a lake, in a fancy landscape. When I think how many, and how much + better books than Homer, or even than Herodotus, Pindar or Aeschylus, + could have read, are in the power of almost every man, in a country where + almost every man is instructed to read and write; and how restless, how + difficultly hidden, the powers of genius are; and yet find even in + situations the most favourable, according to Mr. Wordsworth, for the + formation of a pure and poetic language; in situations which ensure + familiarity with the grandest objects of the imagination; but one Burns, + among the shepherds of Scotland, and not a single poet of humble life + among those of English lakes and mountains; I conclude, that Poetic Genius + is not only a very delicate but a very rare plant. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + But be this as it may, the feelings with which, + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “I think of Chatterton, the marvellous Boy,<br> + The sleepless Soul, that perished in his pride;<br> + Of Burns, who walk’d in glory and in joy<br> + Behind his plough, upon the mountain-side”— +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + are widely different from those with which I should read a poem, where the + author, having occasion for the character of a poet and a philosopher in + the fable of his narration, had chosen to make him a chimney-sweeper; and + then, in order to remove all doubts on the subject, had invented an + account of his birth, parentage and education, with all the strange and + fortunate accidents which had concurred in making him at once poet, + philosopher, and sweep! Nothing, but biography, can justify this. If it be + admissible even in a novel, it must be one in the manner of De Foe’s, that + were meant to pass for histories, not in the manner of Fielding’s: In THE + LIFE OF MOLL FLANDERS, Or COLONEL JACK, not in a TOM JONES, or even a + JOSEPH ANDREWS. Much less then can it be legitimately introduced in a + poem, the characters of which, amid the strongest individualization, must + still remain representative. The precepts of Horace, on this point, are + grounded on the nature both of poetry and of the human mind. They are not + more peremptory, than wise and prudent. For in the first place a deviation + from them perplexes the reader’s feelings, and all the circumstances which + are feigned in order to make such accidents less improbable, divide and + disquiet his faith, rather than aid and support it. Spite of all attempts, + the fiction will appear, and unfortunately not as fictitious but as false. + The reader not only knows, that the sentiments and language are the poet’s + own, and his own too in his artificial character, as poet; but by the + fruitless endeavours to make him think the contrary, he is not even + suffered to forget it. The effect is similar to that produced by an Epic + Poet, when the fable and the characters are derived from Scripture + history, as in THE MESSIAH of Klopstock, or in CUMBERLAND’S CALVARY; and + not merely suggested by it as in the PARADISE LOST of Milton. That + illusion, contradistinguished from delusion, that negative faith, which + simply permits the images presented to work by their own force, without + either denial or affirmation of their real existence by the judgment, is + rendered impossible by their immediate neighbourhood to words and facts of + known and absolute truth. A faith, which transcends even historic belief, + must absolutely put out this mere poetic analogon of faith, as the summer + sun is said to extinguish our household fires, when it shines full upon + them. What would otherwise have been yielded to as pleasing fiction, is + repelled as revolting falsehood. The effect produced in this latter case + by the solemn belief of the reader, is in a less degree brought about in + the instances, to which I have been objecting, by the balked attempts of + the author to make him believe. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Add to all the foregoing the seeming uselessness both of the project and + of the anecdotes from which it is to derive support. Is there one word, + for instance, attributed to the pedlar in THE EXCURSION, characteristic of + a Pedlar? One sentiment, that might not more plausibly, even without the + aid of any previous explanation, have proceeded from any wise and + beneficent old man, of a rank or profession in which the language of + learning and refinement are natural and to be expected? Need the rank have + been at all particularized, where nothing follows which the knowledge of + that rank is to explain or illustrate? When on the contrary this + information renders the man’s language, feelings, sentiments, and + information a riddle, which must itself be solved by episodes of anecdote? + Finally when this, and this alone, could have induced a genuine Poet to + inweave in a poem of the loftiest style, and on subjects the loftiest and + of most universal interest, such minute matters of fact, (not unlike those + furnished for the obituary of a magazine by the friends of some obscure + “ornament of society lately deceased” in some obscure town,) as + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “Among the hills of Athol he was born<br> + There, on a small hereditary Farm,<br> + An unproductive slip of rugged ground,<br> + His Father dwelt; and died in poverty;<br> + While He, whose lowly fortune I retrace,<br> + The youngest of three sons, was yet a babe,<br> + A little One—unconscious of their loss.<br> + But ere he had outgrown his infant days<br> + His widowed Mother, for a second Mate,<br> + Espoused the teacher of the Village School;<br> + Who on her offspring zealously bestowed<br> + Needful instruction.”<br> +<br> + “From his sixth year, the Boy of whom I speak,<br> + In summer tended cattle on the Hills;<br> + But, through the inclement and the perilous days<br> + Of long-continuing winter, he repaired<br> + To his Step-father’s School,”-etc.<br> +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + For all the admirable passages interposed in this narration, might, with + trifling alterations, have been far more appropriately, and with far + greater verisimilitude, told of a poet in the character of a poet; and + without incurring another defect which I shall now mention, and a + sufficient illustration of which will have been here anticipated. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Third; an undue predilection for the dramatic form in certain poems, from + which one or other of two evils result. Either the thoughts and diction + are different from that of the poet, and then there arises an incongruity + of style; or they are the same and indistinguishable, and then it presents + a species of ventriloquism, where two are represented as talking, while in + truth one man only speaks. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + The fourth class of defects is closely connected with the former; but yet + are such as arise likewise from an intensity of feeling disproportionate + to such knowledge and value of the objects described, as can be fairly + anticipated of men in general, even of the most cultivated classes; and + with which therefore few only, and those few particularly circumstanced, + can be supposed to sympathize: In this class, I comprise occasional + prolixity, repetition, and an eddying, instead of progression, of thought. + As instances, see pages 27, 28, and 62 of the Poems, vol. I. and the first + eighty lines of the VIth Book of THE EXCURSION. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Fifth and last; thoughts and images too great for the subject. This is an + approximation to what might be called mental bombast, as distinguished + from verbal: for, as in the latter there is a disproportion of the + expressions to the thoughts so in this there is a disproportion of thought + to the circumstance and occasion. This, by the bye, is a fault of which + none but a man of genius is capable. It is the awkwardness and strength of + Hercules with the distaff of Omphale. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + It is a well-known fact, that bright colours in motion both make and leave + the strongest impressions on the eye. Nothing is more likely too, than + that a vivid image or visual spectrum, thus originated, may become the + link of association in recalling the feelings and images that had + accompanied the original impression. But if we describe this in such + lines, as + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “They flash upon that inward eye,<br> + Which is the bliss of solitude!” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + in what words shall we describe the joy of retrospection, when the images + and virtuous actions of a whole well-spent life, pass before that + conscience which is indeed the inward eye: which is indeed “the bliss of + solitude?” Assuredly we seem to sink most abruptly, not to say + burlesquely, and almost as in a medley, from this couplet to— + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"><br> + “And then my heart with pleasure fills, + And dances with the daffodils.” <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Vol. I. p. 328.</span> +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + The second instance is from vol. II. page 12, where the poet having gone + out for a day’s tour of pleasure, meets early in the morning with a knot + of Gipsies, who had pitched their blanket-tents and straw-beds, together + with their children and asses, in some field by the road-side. At the + close of the day on his return our tourist found them in the same place. + “Twelve hours,” says he, + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “Twelve hours, twelve bounteous hours are gone, while I<br> + Have been a traveller under open sky,<br> + Much witnessing of change and cheer,<br> + Yet as I left I find them here!” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Whereat the poet, without seeming to reflect that the poor tawny wanderers + might probably have been tramping for weeks together through road and + lane, over moor and mountain, and consequently must have been right glad + to rest themselves, their children and cattle, for one whole day; and + overlooking the obvious truth, that such repose might be quite as + necessary for them, as a walk of the same continuance was pleasing or + healthful for the more fortunate poet; expresses his indignation in a + series of lines, the diction and imagery of which would have been rather + above, than below the mark, had they been applied to the immense empire of + China improgressive for thirty centuries: + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “The weary Sun betook himself to rest:—<br> + —Then issued Vesper from the fulgent west,<br> + Outshining, like a visible God,<br> + The glorious path in which he trod.<br> + And now, ascending, after one dark hour,<br> + And one night’s diminution of her power,<br> + Behold the mighty Moon! this way<br> + She looks, as if at them—but they<br> + Regard not her:—oh, better wrong and strife,<br> + Better vain deeds or evil than such life!<br> + The silent Heavens have goings on<br> + The stars have tasks!—but these have none!” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + The last instance of this defect,(for I know no other than these already + cited) is from the Ode, page 351, vol. II., where, speaking of a child, “a + six years’ Darling of a pigmy size,” he thus addresses him: + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “Thou best Philosopher, who yet dost keep<br> + Thy heritage, thou Eye among the blind,<br> + That, deaf and silent, read’st the eternal deep,<br> + Haunted for ever by the Eternal Mind,—<br> + Mighty Prophet! Seer blest!<br> + On whom those truths do rest,<br> + Which we are toiling all our lives to find!<br> + Thou, over whom thy Immortality<br> + Broods like the Day, a Master o’er a Slave,<br> + A Present which is not to be put by!” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Now here, not to stop at the daring spirit of metaphor which connects the + epithets “deaf and silent,” with the apostrophized eye: or (if we are to + refer it to the preceding word, “Philosopher”), the faulty and equivocal + syntax of the passage; and without examining the propriety of making a + “Master brood o’er a Slave,” or “the Day” brood at all; we will merely + ask, what does all this mean? In what sense is a child of that age a + Philosopher? In what sense does he read “the eternal deep?” In what sense + is he declared to be “for ever haunted” by the Supreme Being? or so + inspired as to deserve the splendid titles of a Mighty Prophet, a blessed + Seer? By reflection? by knowledge? by conscious intuition? or by any form + or modification of consciousness? These would be tidings indeed; but such + as would pre-suppose an immediate revelation to the inspired communicator, + and require miracles to authenticate his inspiration. Children at this age + give us no such information of themselves; and at what time were we dipped + in the Lethe, which has produced such utter oblivion of a state so + godlike? There are many of us that still possess some remembrances, more + or less distinct, respecting themselves at six years old; pity that the + worthless straws only should float, while treasures, compared with which + all the mines of Golconda and Mexico were but straws, should be absorbed + by some unknown gulf into some unknown abyss. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + But if this be too wild and exorbitant to be suspected as having been the + poet’s meaning; if these mysterious gifts, faculties, and operations, are + not accompanied with consciousness; who else is conscious of them? or how + can it be called the child, if it be no part of the child’s conscious + being? For aught I know, the thinking Spirit within me may be + substantially one with the principle of life, and of vital operation. For + aught I know, it might be employed as a secondary agent in the marvellous + organization and organic movements of my body. But, surely, it would be + strange language to say, that I construct my heart! or that I propel the + finer influences through my nerves! or that I compress my brain, and draw + the curtains of sleep round my own eyes! Spinoza and Behmen were, on + different systems, both Pantheists; and among the ancients there were + philosophers, teachers of the EN KAI PAN, who not only taught that God was + All, but that this All constituted God. Yet not even these would confound + the part, as a part, with the whole, as the whole. Nay, in no system is + the distinction between the individual and God, between the Modification, + and the one only Substance, more sharply drawn, than in that of Spinoza. + Jacobi indeed relates of Lessing, that, after a conversation with him at + the house of the Poet, Gleim, (the Tyrtaeus and Anacreon of the German + Parnassus,) in which conversation Lessing had avowed privately to Jacobi + his reluctance to admit any personal existence of the Supreme Being, or + the possibility of personality except in a finite Intellect, and while + they were sitting at table, a shower of rain came on unexpectedly. Gleim + expressed his regret at the circumstance, because they had meant to drink + their wine in the garden: upon which Lessing in one of his half-earnest, + half-joking moods, nodded to Jacobi, and said, “It is I, perhaps, that am + doing that,” i.e. raining!—and Jacobi answered, “or perhaps I;” + Gleim contented himself with staring at them both, without asking for any + explanation. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + So with regard to this passage. In what sense can the magnificent + attributes, above quoted, be appropriated to a child, which would not make + them equally suitable to a bee, or a dog, or afield of corn: or even to a + ship, or to the wind and waves that propel it? The omnipresent Spirit + works equally in them, as in the child; and the child is equally + unconscious of it as they. It cannot surely be, that the four lines, + immediately following, are to contain the explanation? + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + <span style="margin-left: 10em;">“To whom the grave</span><br> + Is but a lonely bed without the sense or sight<br> + <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Of day or the warm light,</span><br> + A place of thought where we in waiting lie;”— +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Surely, it cannot be that this wonder-rousing apostrophe is but a comment + on the little poem, “We are Seven?”—that the whole meaning of the + passage is reducible to the assertion, that a child, who by the bye at six + years old would have been better instructed in most Christian families, + has no other notion of death than that of lying in a dark, cold place? And + still, I hope, not as in a place of thought! not the frightful notion of + lying awake in his grave! The analogy between death and sleep is too + simple, too natural, to render so horrid a belief possible for children; + even had they not been in the habit, as all Christian children are, of + hearing the latter term used to express the former. But if the child’s + belief be only, that “he is not dead, but sleepeth:” wherein does it + differ from that of his father and mother, or any other adult and + instructed person? To form an idea of a thing’s becoming nothing; or of + nothing becoming a thing; is impossible to all finite beings alike, of + whatever age, and however educated or uneducated. Thus it is with splendid + paradoxes in general. If the words are taken in the common sense, they + convey an absurdity; and if, in contempt of dictionaries and custom, they + are so interpreted as to avoid the absurdity, the meaning dwindles into + some bald truism. Thus you must at once understand the words contrary to + their common import, in order to arrive at any sense; and according to + their common import, if you are to receive from them any feeling of + sublimity or admiration. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Though the instances of this defect in Mr. Wordsworth’s poems are so few, + that for themselves it would have been scarcely just to attract the + reader’s attention toward them; yet I have dwelt on it, and perhaps the + more for this very reason. For being so very few, they cannot sensibly + detract from the reputation of an author, who is even characterized by the + number of profound truths in his writings, which will stand the severest + analysis; and yet few as they are, they are exactly those passages which + his blind admirers would be most likely, and best able, to imitate. But + Wordsworth, where he is indeed Wordsworth, may be mimicked by copyists, he + may be plundered by plagiarists; but he cannot be imitated, except by + those who are not born to be imitators. For without his depth of feeling + and his imaginative power his sense would want its vital warmth and + peculiarity; and without his strong sense, his mysticism would become + sickly—mere fog, and dimness! + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + To these defects which, as appears by the extracts, are only occasional, I + may oppose, with far less fear of encountering the dissent of any candid + and intelligent reader, the following (for the most part correspondent) + excellencies. First, an austere purity of language both grammatically and + logically; in short a perfect appropriateness of the words to the meaning. + Of how high value I deem this, and how particularly estimable I hold the + example at the present day, has been already stated: and in part too the + reasons on which I ground both the moral and intellectual importance of + habituating ourselves to a strict accuracy of expression. It is + noticeable, how limited an acquaintance with the masterpieces of art will + suffice to form a correct and even a sensitive taste, where none but + master-pieces have been seen and admired: while on the other hand, the + most correct notions, and the widest acquaintance with the works of + excellence of all ages and countries, will not perfectly secure us against + the contagious familiarity with the far more numerous offspring of + tastelessness or of a perverted taste. If this be the case, as it + notoriously is, with the arts of music and painting, much more difficult + will it be, to avoid the infection of multiplied and daily examples in the + practice of an art, which uses words, and words only, as its instruments. + In poetry, in which every line, every phrase, may pass the ordeal of + deliberation and deliberate choice, it is possible, and barely possible, + to attain that ultimatum which I have ventured to propose as the + infallible test of a blameless style; namely: its untranslatableness in + words of the same language without injury to the meaning. Be it observed, + however, that I include in the meaning of a word not only its + correspondent object, but likewise all the associations which it recalls. + For language is framed to convey not the object alone but likewise the + character, mood and intentions of the person who is representing it. In + poetry it is practicable to preserve the diction uncorrupted by the + affectations and misappropriations, which promiscuous authorship, and + reading not promiscuous only because it is disproportionally most + conversant with the compositions of the day, have rendered general. Yet + even to the poet, composing in his own province, it is an arduous work: + and as the result and pledge of a watchful good sense of fine and luminous + distinction, and of complete self-possession, may justly claim all the + honour which belongs to an attainment equally difficult and valuable, and + the more valuable for being rare. It is at all times the proper food of + the understanding; but in an age of corrupt eloquence it is both food and + antidote. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + In prose I doubt whether it be even possible to preserve our style wholly + unalloyed by the vicious phraseology which meets us everywhere, from the + sermon to the newspaper, from the harangue of the legislator to the speech + from the convivial chair, announcing a toast or sentiment. Our chains + rattle, even while we are complaining of them. The poems of Boetius rise + high in our estimation when we compare them with those of his + contemporaries, as Sidonius Apollinaris, and others. They might even be + referred to a purer age, but that the prose, in which they are set, as + jewels in a crown of lead or iron, betrays the true age of the writer. + Much however may be effected by education. I believe not only from grounds + of reason, but from having in great measure assured myself of the fact by + actual though limited experience, that, to a youth led from his first + boyhood to investigate the meaning of every word and the reason of its + choice and position, logic presents itself as an old acquaintance under + new names. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + On some future occasion, more especially demanding such disquisition, I + shall attempt to prove the close connection between veracity and habits of + mental accuracy; the beneficial after-effects of verbal precision in the + preclusion of fanaticism, which masters the feelings more especially by + indistinct watch-words; and to display the advantages which language + alone, at least which language with incomparably greater ease and + certainty than any other means, presents to the instructor of impressing + modes of intellectual energy so constantly, so imperceptibly, and as it + were by such elements and atoms, as to secure in due time the formation of + a second nature. When we reflect, that the cultivation of the judgment is + a positive command of the moral law, since the reason can give the + principle alone, and the conscience bears witness only to the motive, + while the application and effects must depend on the judgment when we + consider, that the greater part of our success and comfort in life depends + on distinguishing the similar from the same, that which is peculiar in + each thing from that which it has in common with others, so as still to + select the most probable, instead of the merely possible or positively + unfit, we shall learn to value earnestly and with a practical seriousness + a mean, already prepared for us by nature and society, of teaching the + young mind to think well and wisely by the same unremembered process and + with the same never forgotten results, as those by which it is taught to + speak and converse. Now how much warmer the interest is, how much more + genial the feelings of reality and practicability, and thence how much + stronger the impulses to imitation are, which a contemporary writer, and + especially a contemporary poet, excites in youth and commencing manhood, + has been treated of in the earlier pages of these sketches. I have only to + add, that all the praise which is due to the exertion of such influence + for a purpose so important, joined with that which must be claimed for the + infrequency of the same excellence in the same perfection, belongs in full + right to Mr. Wordsworth. I am far however from denying that we have poets + whose general style possesses the same excellence, as Mr. Moore, Lord + Byron, Mr. Bowles, and, in all his later and more important works, our + laurel-honouring Laureate. But there are none, in whose works I do not + appear to myself to find more exceptions, than in those of Wordsworth. + Quotations or specimens would here be wholly out of place, and must be + left for the critic who doubts and would invalidate the justice of this + eulogy so applied. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + The second characteristic excellence of Mr. Wordsworth’s work is: a + correspondent weight and sanity of the Thoughts and Sentiments,—won, + not from books; but—from the poet’s own meditative observation. They + are fresh and have the dew upon them. His muse, at least when in her + strength of wing, and when she hovers aloft in her proper element, + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + Makes audible a linked lay of truth,<br> + Of truth profound a sweet continuous lay,<br> + Not learnt, but native, her own natural notes!<br> +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Even throughout his smaller poems there is scarcely one, which is not + rendered valuable by some just and original reflection. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + See page 25, vol. II.: or the two following passages in one of his + humblest compositions. + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “O Reader! had you in your mind<br> + Such stores as silent thought can bring,<br> + O gentle Reader! you would find<br> + A tale in every thing;” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + and + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “I’ve heard of hearts unkind, kind deeds<br> + With coldness still returning;<br> + Alas! the gratitude of men<br> + Has oftener left me mourning;” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + or in a still higher strain the six beautiful quatrains, page 134. + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “Thus fares it still in our decay:<br> + And yet the wiser mind<br> + Mourns less for what age takes away<br> + Than what it leaves behind.<br> +<br> + The Blackbird in the summer trees,<br> + The Lark upon the hill,<br> + Let loose their carols when they please,<br> + Are quiet when they will.<br> +<br> + With Nature never do they wage<br> + A foolish strife; they see<br> + A happy youth, and their old age<br> + Is beautiful and free!<br> +<br> + But we are pressed by heavy laws;<br> + And often glad no more,<br> + We wear a face of joy, because<br> + We have been glad of yore.<br> +<br> + If there is one, who need bemoan<br> + His kindred laid in earth,<br> + The household hearts that were his own,<br> + It is the man of mirth.<br> +<br> + My days, my Friend, are almost gone,<br> + My life has been approved,<br> + And many love me; but by none<br> + Am I enough beloved;” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + or the sonnet on Buonaparte, page 202, vol. II. or finally (for a volume + would scarce suffice to exhaust the instances,) the last stanza of the + poem on the withered Celandine, vol. II. p. 312. + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “To be a Prodigal’s Favorite—then, worse truth,<br> + A Miser’s Pensioner—behold our lot!<br> + O Man! That from thy fair and shining youth<br> + Age might but take the things Youth needed not.” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Both in respect of this and of the former excellence, Mr. Wordsworth + strikingly resembles Samuel Daniel, one of the golden writers of our + golden Elizabethan age, now most causelessly neglected: Samuel Daniel, + whose diction bears no mark of time, no distinction of age which has been, + and as long as our language shall last, will be so far the language of the + to-day and for ever, as that it is more intelligible to us, than the + transitory fashions of our own particular age. A similar praise is due to + his sentiments. No frequency of perusal can deprive them of their + freshness. For though they are brought into the full day-light of every + reader’s comprehension; yet are they drawn up from depths which few in any + age are privileged to visit, into which few in any age have courage or + inclination to descend. If Mr. Wordsworth is not equally with Daniel alike + intelligible to all readers of average understanding in all passages of + his works, the comparative difficulty does not arise from the greater + impurity of the ore, but from the nature and uses of the metal. A poem is + not necessarily obscure, because it does not aim to be popular. It is + enough, if a work be perspicuous to those for whom it is written, and + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “Fit audience find, though few.” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + To the “Ode on the Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of early + Childhood” the poet might have prefixed the lines which Dante addresses to + one of his own Canzoni— + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “Canzone, i’ credo, che saranno radi<br> + Color, che tua ragione intendan bene,<br> + Tanto lor sei faticoso ed alto.”<br> +<br> + “O lyric song, there will be few, I think,<br> + Who may thy import understand aright:<br> + Thou art for them so arduous and so high!” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + But the ode was intended for such readers only as had been accustomed to + watch the flux and reflux of their inmost nature, to venture at times into + the twilight realms of consciousness, and to feel a deep interest in modes + of inmost being, to which they know that the attributes of time and space + are inapplicable and alien, but which yet can not be conveyed, save in + symbols of time and space. For such readers the sense is sufficiently + plain, and they will be as little disposed to charge Mr. Wordsworth with + believing the Platonic pre-existence in the ordinary interpretation of the + words, as I am to believe, that Plato himself ever meant or taught it. + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + Polla oi ut’ ankonos <br> + okea belae<br> + endon enti pharetras<br> + phonanta synetoisin; es<br> + de to pan hermaeneon<br> + chatizei; sophos o polla <br> + eidos phua;<br> + mathontes de labroi<br> + panglossia, korakes os,<br> + akranta garueton<br> + Dios pros ornicha theion. +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Third (and wherein he soars far above Daniel) the sinewy strength and + originality of single lines and paragraphs: the frequent curiosa felicitas + of his diction, of which I need not here give specimens, having + anticipated them in a preceding page. This beauty, and as eminently + characteristic of Wordsworth’s poetry, his rudest assailants have felt + themselves compelled to acknowledge and admire. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Fourth; the perfect truth of nature in his images and descriptions as + taken immediately from nature, and proving a long and genial intimacy with + the very spirit which gives the physiognomic expression to all the works + of nature. Like a green field reflected in a calm and perfectly + transparent lake, the image is distinguished from the reality only by its + greater softness and lustre. Like the moisture or the polish on a pebble, + genius neither distorts nor false-colours its objects; but on the contrary + brings out many a vein and many a tint, which escape the eye of common + observation, thus raising to the rank of gems what had been often kicked + away by the hurrying foot of the traveller on the dusty high road of + custom. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Let me refer to the whole description of skating, vol. I. page 42 to 47, + especially to the lines + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “So through the darkness and the cold we flew,<br> + And not a voice was idle. with the din<br> + Meanwhile the precipices rang aloud;<br> + The leafless trees and every icy crag<br> + Tinkled like iron; while the distant hills<br> + Into the tumult sent an alien sound<br> + Of melancholy, not unnoticed, while the stars,<br> + Eastward, were sparkling clear, and in the west<br> + The orange sky of evening died away.” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Or to the poem on THE GREEN LINNET, vol. I. page 244. What can be more + accurate yet more lovely than the two concluding stanzas? + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “Upon yon tuft of hazel trees,<br> + That twinkle to the gusty breeze,<br> + Behold him perched in ecstasies,<br> + <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Yet seeming still to hover;</span><br> + There! where the flutter of his wings<br> + Upon his back and body flings<br> + Shadows and sunny glimmerings,<br> + <span style="margin-left: 10em;">That cover him all over.</span><br> +<br> + While thus before my eyes he gleams,<br> + A Brother of the Leaves he seems;<br> + When in a moment forth he teems<br> + <span style="margin-left: 10em;">His little song in gushes</span><br> + As if it pleased him to disdain<br> + And mock the Form which he did feign<br> + While he was dancing with the train<br> + <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Of Leaves among the bushes.”</span> +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Or the description of the blue-cap, and of the noontide silence, page 284; + or the poem to the cuckoo, page 299; or, lastly, though I might multiply + the references to ten times the number, to the poem, so completely + Wordsworth’s, commencing + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “Three years she grew in sun and shower”— +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Fifth: a meditative pathos, a union of deep and subtle thought with + sensibility; a sympathy with man as man; the sympathy indeed of a + contemplator, rather than a fellow-sufferer or co-mate, (spectator, haud + particeps) but of a contemplator, from whose view no difference of rank + conceals the sameness of the nature; no injuries of wind or weather, or + toil, or even of ignorance, wholly disguise the human face divine. The + superscription and the image of the Creator still remain legible to him + under the dark lines, with which guilt or calamity had cancelled or + cross-barred it. Here the Man and the Poet lose and find themselves in + each other, the one as glorified, the latter as substantiated. In this + mild and philosophic pathos, Wordsworth appears to me without a compeer. + Such as he is: so he writes. See vol. I. page 134 to 136, or that most + affecting composition, THE AFFLICTION OF MARGARET —— OF + ——, page 165 to 168, which no mother, and, if I may judge by + my own experience, no parent can read without a tear. Or turn to that + genuine lyric, in the former edition, entitled, THE MAD MOTHER, page 174 + to 178, of which I cannot refrain from quoting two of the stanzas, both of + them for their pathos, and the former for the fine transition in the two + concluding lines of the stanza, so expressive of that deranged state, in + which, from the increased sensibility, the sufferer’s attention is + abruptly drawn off by every trifle, and in the same instant plucked back + again by the one despotic thought, bringing home with it, by the blending, + fusing power of Imagination and Passion, the alien object to which it had + been so abruptly diverted, no longer an alien but an ally and an inmate. + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “Suck, little babe, oh suck again!<br> + It cools my blood; it cools my brain;<br> + Thy lips, I feel them, baby! They<br> + Draw from my heart the pain away.<br> + Oh! press me with thy little hand;<br> + It loosens something at my chest<br> + About that tight and deadly band<br> + I feel thy little fingers prest.<br> + The breeze I see is in the tree!<br> + It comes to cool my babe and me.” +<br><br> + “Thy father cares not for my breast,<br> + ’Tis thine, sweet baby, there to rest;<br> + ’Tis all thine own!—and if its hue<br> + Be changed, that was so fair to view,<br> + ’Tis fair enough for thee, my dove!<br> + My beauty, little child, is flown,<br> + But thou wilt live with me in love;<br> + And what if my poor cheek be brown?<br> + ’Tis well for me, thou canst not see<br> + How pale and wan it else would be.” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Last, and pre-eminently, I challenge for this poet the gift of Imagination + in the highest and strictest sense of the word. In the play of fancy, + Wordsworth, to my feelings, is not always graceful, and sometimes + recondite. The likeness is occasionally too strange, or demands too + peculiar a point of view, or is such as appears the creature of + predetermined research, rather than spontaneous presentation. Indeed his + fancy seldom displays itself, as mere and unmodified fancy. But in + imaginative power, he stands nearest of all modern writers to Shakespeare + and Milton; and yet in a kind perfectly unborrowed and his own. To employ + his own words, which are at once an instance and an illustration, he does + indeed to all thoughts and to all objects— + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + <span style="margin-left: 10em;">“———add the gleam,</span><br> + The light that never was, on sea or land,<br> + The consecration, and the Poet’s dream.”<br> +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + I shall select a few examples as most obviously manifesting this faculty; + but if I should ever be fortunate enough to render my analysis of + Imagination, its origin and characters, thoroughly intelligible to the + reader, he will scarcely open on a page of this poet’s works without + recognising, more or less, the presence and the influences of this + faculty. From the poem on the YEW TREES, vol. I. page 303, 304. + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + <span style="margin-left: 10em;">“But worthier still of note</span><br> + Are those fraternal Four of Borrowdale,<br> + Joined in one solemn and capacious grove;<br> + Huge trunks!—and each particular trunk a growth<br> + Of intertwisted fibres serpentine<br> + Up-coiling, and inveterately convolved;<br> + Not uninformed with phantasy, and looks<br> + That threaten the profane;—a pillared shade,<br> + Upon whose grassless floor of red-brown hue,<br> + By sheddings from the pinal umbrage tinged<br> + Perennially—beneath whose sable roof<br> + Of boughs, as if for festal purpose, decked<br> + With unrejoicing berries—ghostly shapes<br> + May meet at noontide; FEAR and trembling HOPE,<br> + SILENCE and FORESIGHT; DEATH, the Skeleton,<br> + And TIME, the Shadow; there to celebrate,<br> + As in a natural temple scattered o’er<br> + With altars undisturbed of mossy stone,<br> + United worship; or in mute repose<br> + To lie, and listen to the mountain flood<br> + Murmuring from Glazamara’s inmost caves.”<br> +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + The effect of the old man’s figure in the poem of RESOLUTION AND + INDEPENDENCE, vol. II. page 33. + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “While he was talking thus, the lonely place,<br> + The Old Man’s shape, and speech, all troubled me<br> + In my mind’s eye I seemed to see him pace<br> + About the weary moors continually,<br> + Wandering about alone and silently.” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Or the 8th, 9th, 19th, 26th, 31st, and 33rd, in the collection of + miscellaneous sonnets—the sonnet on the subjugation of Switzerland, + page 210, or the last ode, from which I especially select the two + following stanzas or paragraphs, page 349 to 350. + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting:<br> + The Soul that rises with us, our life’s Star,<br> + Hath had elsewhere its setting,<br> + <span style="margin-left: 10em;">And cometh from afar.</span><br> + Not in entire forgetfulness,<br> + And not in utter nakedness,<br> + But trailing clouds of glory do we come<br> + From God, who is our home:<br> + Heaven lies about us in our infancy!<br> + Shades of the prison-house begin to close<br> + <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Upon the growing Boy;</span><br> + But He beholds the light, and whence it flows,<br> + <span style="margin-left: 10em;">He sees it in his joy!</span><br> + The Youth who daily further from the East<br> + Must travel, still is Nature’s Priest,<br> + <span style="margin-left: 10em;">And by the vision splendid</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Is on his way attended;</span><br> + At length the Man perceives it die away,<br> + And fade into the light of common day.”<br> +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + And page 352 to 354 of the same ode. + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “O joy! that in our embers<br> + Is something that doth live,<br> + That nature yet remembers<br> + What was so fugitive!<br> + The thought of our past years in me doth breed<br> + Perpetual benedictions: not indeed<br> + For that which is most worthy to be blest;<br> + Delight and liberty, the simple creed<br> + Of Childhood, whether busy or at rest,<br> + With new-fledged hope still fluttering in his breast:—<br> + Not for these I raise<br> + The song of thanks and praise;<br> + But for those obstinate questionings<br> + Of sense and outward things,<br> + Fallings from us, vanishings;<br> + Blank misgivings of a Creature<br> + Moving about in worlds not realized,<br> + High instincts, before which our mortal Nature<br> + Did tremble like a guilty Thing surprised!<br> + But for those first affections,<br> + Those shadowy recollections,<br> + Which, be they what they may,<br> + Are yet the fountain light of all our day,<br> + Are yet a master light of all our seeing;<br> + Uphold us—cherish—and have power to make<br> + Our noisy years seem moments in the being<br> + Of the eternal Silence; truths that wake<br> + <span style="margin-left: 10em;">To perish never;</span><br> + Which neither listlessness, nor mad endeavour,<br> + Nor Man nor Boy,<br> + Nor all that is at enmity with joy,<br> + Can utterly abolish or destroy!<br> + Hence, in a season of calm weather,<br> + Though inland far we be,<br> + Our Souls have sight of that immortal sea<br> + Which brought us hither;<br> + Can in a moment travel thither,—<br> + And see the children sport upon the shore,<br> + And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore.” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + And since it would be unfair to conclude with an extract, which, though + highly characteristic, must yet, from the nature of the thoughts and the + subject, be interesting or perhaps intelligible, to but a limited number + of readers; I will add, from the poet’s last published work, a passage + equally Wordsworthian; of the beauty of which, and of the imaginative + power displayed therein, there can be but one opinion, and one feeling. + See White Doe, page 5. + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “Fast the church-yard fills;—anon<br> + Look again and they all are gone;<br> + The cluster round the porch, and the folk<br> + Who sate in the shade of the Prior’s Oak!<br> + And scarcely have they disappeared<br> + Ere the prelusive hymn is heard;—<br> + With one consent the people rejoice,<br> + Filling the church with a lofty voice!<br> + They sing a service which they feel:<br> + For ’tis the sun-rise now of zeal;<br> + And faith and hope are in their prime<br> + In great Eliza’s golden time.”<br> +<br> + “A moment ends the fervent din,<br> + And all is hushed, without and within;<br> + For though the priest, more tranquilly,<br> + Recites the holy liturgy,<br> + The only voice which you can hear<br> + Is the river murmuring near.<br> + —When soft!—the dusky trees between,<br> + And down the path through the open green,<br> + Where is no living thing to be seen;<br> + And through yon gateway, where is found,<br> + Beneath the arch with ivy bound,<br> + Free entrance to the church-yard ground—<br> + And right across the verdant sod,<br> + Towards the very house of God;<br> + Comes gliding in with lovely gleam,<br> + Comes gliding in serene and slow,<br> + Soft and silent as a dream.<br> + A solitary Doe!<br> + White she is as lily of June,<br> + And beauteous as the silver moon<br> + When out of sight the clouds are driven<br> + And she is left alone in heaven!<br> + Or like a ship some gentle day<br> + In sunshine sailing far away<br> + A glittering ship that hath the plain<br> + Of ocean for her own domain.”<br> +<br> + * * * * * *<br> +<br> + “What harmonious pensive changes<br> + Wait upon her as she ranges<br> + Round and through this Pile of state<br> + Overthrown and desolate!<br> + Now a step or two her way<br> + Is through space of open day,<br> + Where the enamoured sunny light<br> + Brightens her that was so bright;<br> + Now doth a delicate shadow fall,<br> + Falls upon her like a breath,<br> + From some lofty arch or wall,<br> + As she passes underneath.”<br> +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + The following analogy will, I am apprehensive, appear dim and fantastic, + but in reading Bartram’s Travels I could not help transcribing the + following lines as a sort of allegory, or connected simile and metaphor of + Wordsworth’s intellect and genius.—“The soil is a deep, rich, dark + mould, on a deep stratum of tenacious clay; and that on a foundation of + rocks, which often break through both strata, lifting their backs above + the surface. The trees which chiefly grow here are the gigantic, black + oak; magnolia grandi-flora; fraximus excelsior; platane; and a few stately + tulip trees.” What Mr. Wordsworth will produce, it is not for me to + prophesy but I could pronounce with the liveliest convictions what he is + capable of producing. It is the FIRST GENUINE PHILOSOPHIC POEM. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + The preceding criticism will not, I am aware, avail to overcome the + prejudices of those, who have made it a business to attack and ridicule + Mr. Wordsworth’s compositions. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Truth and prudence might be imaged as concentric circles. The poet may + perhaps have passed beyond the latter, but he has confined himself far + within the bounds of the former, in designating these critics, as “too + petulant to be passive to a genuine poet, and too feeble to grapple with + him;——men of palsied imaginations, in whose minds all healthy + action is languid;——who, therefore, feed as the many direct + them, or with the many are greedy after vicious provocatives.” + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + So much for the detractors from Wordsworth’s merits. On the other hand, + much as I might wish for their fuller sympathy, I dare not flatter myself, + that the freedom with which I have declared my opinions concerning both + his theory and his defects, most of which are more or less connected with + his theory, either as cause or effect, will be satisfactory or pleasing to + all the poet’s admirers and advocates. More indiscriminate than mine their + admiration may be: deeper and more sincere it cannot be. But I have + advanced no opinion either for praise or censure, other than as texts + introductory to the reasons which compel me to form it. Above all, I was + fully convinced that such a criticism was not only wanted; but that, if + executed with adequate ability, it must conduce, in no mean degree, to Mr. + Wordsworth’s reputation. His fame belongs to another age, and can neither + be accelerated nor retarded. How small the proportion of the defects are + to the beauties, I have repeatedly declared; and that no one of them + originates in deficiency of poetic genius. Had they been more and greater, + I should still, as a friend to his literary character in the present age, + consider an analytic display of them as pure gain; if only it removed, as + surely to all reflecting minds even the foregoing analysis must have + removed, the strange mistake, so slightly grounded, yet so widely and + industriously propagated, of Mr. Wordsworth’s turn for simplicity! I am + not half as much irritated by hearing his enemies abuse him for vulgarity + of style, subject, and conception, as I am disgusted with the gilded side + of the same meaning, as displayed by some affected admirers, with whom he + is, forsooth, a “sweet, simple poet!” and so natural, that little master + Charles and his younger sister are so charmed with them, that they play at + “Goody Blake,” or at “Johnny and Betty Foy!” + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Were the collection of poems, published with these biographical sketches, + important enough, (which I am not vain enough to believe,) to deserve such + a distinction; even as I have done, so would I be done unto. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + For more than eighteen months have the volume of Poems, entitled SIBYLLINE + LEAVES, and the present volume, up to this page, been printed, and ready + for publication. But, ere I speak of myself in the tones, which are alone + natural to me under the circumstances of late years, I would fain present + myself to the Reader as I was in the first dawn of my literary life: + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + When Hope grew round me, like the climbing vine,<br> + And fruits, and foliage, not my own, seem’d mine! +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + For this purpose I have selected from the letters, which I wrote home from + Germany, those which appeared likely to be most interesting, and at the + same time most pertinent to the title of this work. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2H_4_0025"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <p> + </p> + <h2> + SATYRANE’S LETTERS + </h2> + <p> + </p> + <p> + LETTER I + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + On Sunday morning, September 16, 1798, the Hamburg packet set sail from + Yarmouth; and I, for the first time in my life, beheld my native land + retiring from me. At the moment of its disappearance—in all the + kirks, churches, chapels, and meeting-houses, in which the greater number, + I hope, of my countrymen were at that time assembled, I will dare question + whether there was one more ardent prayer offered up to heaven, than that + which I then preferred for my country. “Now then,” (said I to a gentleman + who was standing near me,) “we are out of our country.” “Not yet, not + yet!” he replied, and pointed to the sea; “This, too, is a Briton’s + country.” This bon mot gave a fillip to my spirits, I rose and looked + round on my fellow-passengers, who were all on the deck. We were eighteen + in number, videlicet, five Englishmen, an English lady, a French gentleman + and his servant, an Hanoverian and his servant, a Prussian, a Swede, two + Danes, and a Mulatto boy, a German tailor and his wife, (the smallest + couple I ever beheld,) and a Jew. We were all on the deck; but in a short + time I observed marks of dismay. The lady retired to the cabin in some + confusion, and many of the faces round me assumed a very doleful and + frog-coloured appearance; and within an hour the number of those on deck + was lessened by one half. I was giddy, but not sick, and the giddiness + soon went away, but left a feverishness and want of appetite, which I + attributed, in great measure, to the saeva Mephitis of the bilge-water; + and it was certainly not decreased by the exportations from the cabin. + However, I was well enough to join the able-bodied passengers, one of whom + observed not inaptly, that Momus might have discovered an easier way to + see a man’s inside, than by placing a window in his breast. He needed only + have taken a saltwater trip in a packet-boat. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + I am inclined to believe, that a packet is far superior to a stage- coach, + as a means of making men open out to each other. In the latter the + uniformity of posture disposes to dozing, and the definitiveness of the + period, at which the company will separate, makes each individual think + more of those to whom he is going, than of those with whom he is going. + But at sea, more curiosity is excited, if only on this account, that the + pleasant or unpleasant qualities of your companions are of greater + importance to you, from the uncertainty how long you may be obliged to + house with them. Besides, if you are countrymen, that now begins to form a + distinction and a bond of brotherhood; and if of different countries, + there are new incitements of conversation, more to ask and more to + communicate. I found that I had interested the Danes in no common degree. + I had crept into the boat on the deck and fallen asleep; but was awakened + by one of them, about three o’clock in the afternoon, who told me that + they had been seeking me in every hole and corner, and insisted that I + should join their party and drink with them. He talked English with such + fluency, as left me wholly unable to account for the singular and even + ludicrous incorrectness with which he spoke it. I went, and found some + excellent wines and a dessert of grapes with a pine-apple. The Danes had + christened me Doctor Teology, and dressed as I was all in black, with + large shoes and black worsted stockings, I might certainly have passed + very well for a Methodist missionary. However I disclaimed my title. What + then may you be? A man of fortune? No!—A merchant? No!—A + merchant’s traveller? No!—A clerk? No!—Un Philosophe, perhaps? + It was at that time in my life, in which of all possible names and + characters I had the greatest disgust to that of “un Philosophe.” But I + was weary of being questioned, and rather than be nothing, or at best only + the abstract idea of a man, I submitted by a bow, even to the aspersion + implied in the word “un Philosophe.”—The Dane then informed me, that + all in the present party were Philosophers likewise. Certes we were not of + the Stoick school. For we drank and talked and sung, till we talked and + sung all together; and then we rose and danced on the deck a set of + dances, which in one sense of the word at least, were very intelligibly + and appropriately entitled reels. The passengers, who lay in the cabin + below in all the agonies of sea- sickness, must have found our + bacchanalian merriment + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + <span style="margin-left:10em;">———a tune</span><br> + Harsh and of dissonant mood from their complaint. +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + I thought so at the time; and, (by way, I suppose, of supporting my newly + assumed philosophical character,) I thought too, how closely the greater + number of our virtues are connected with the fear of death, and how little + sympathy we bestow on pain, where there is no danger. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + The two Danes were brothers. The one was a man with a clear white + complexion, white hair, and white eyebrows; looked silly, and nothing that + he uttered gave the lie to his looks. The other, whom, by way of eminence + I have called the Dane, had likewise white hair, but was much shorter than + his brother, with slender limbs, and a very thin face slightly + pockfretten. This man convinced me of the justice of an old remark, that + many a faithful portrait in our novels and farces has been rashly censured + for an outrageous caricature, or perhaps nonentity. I had retired to my + station in the boat—he came and seated himself by my side, and + appeared not a little tipsy. He commenced the conversation in the most + magnific style, and, as a sort of pioneering to his own vanity, he + flattered me with such grossness! The parasites of the old comedy were + modest in the comparison. His language and accentuation were so + exceedingly singular, that I determined for once in my life to take notes + of a conversation. Here it follows, somewhat abridged, indeed, but in all + other respects as accurately as my memory permitted. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + THE DANE. Vat imagination! vat language! vat vast science! and vat eyes! + vat a milk-vite forehead! O my heafen! vy, you’re a Got! + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + ANSWER. You do me too much honour, Sir. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + THE DANE. O me! if you should dink I is flattering you!—No, no, no! + I haf ten tousand a year—yes, ten tousand a year—yes, ten + tousand pound a year! Vel—and vat is dhat? a mere trifle! I ’ouldn’t + gif my sincere heart for ten times dhe money. Yes, you’re a Got! I a mere + man! But, my dear friend! dhink of me, as a man! Is, is—I mean to + ask you now, my dear friend—is I not very eloquent? Is I not speak + English very fine? + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + ANSWER. Most admirably! Believe me, Sir! I have seldom heard even a native + talk so fluently. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + THE DANE. (Squeezing my hand with great vehemence.) My dear friend! vat an + affection and fidelity ve have for each odher! But tell me, do tell me,—Is + I not, now and den, speak some fault? Is I not in some wrong? + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + ANSWER. Why, Sir! perhaps it might be observed by nice critics in the + English language, that you occasionally use the word “is” instead of “am.” + In our best companies we generally say I am, and not I is or I’se. Excuse + me, Sir! it is a mere trifle. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + THE DANE. O!—is, is, am, am, am. Yes, yes—I know, I know. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + ANSWER. I am, thou art, he is, we are, ye are, they are. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + THE DANE. Yes, yes,—I know, I know—Am, am, am, is dhe + praesens, and is is dhe perfectum—yes, yes—and are is dhe + plusquam perfectum. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + ANSWER. And art, Sir! is—? + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + THE DANE. My dear friend! it is dhe plusquam perfectum, no, no—dhat + is a great lie; are is dhe plusquam perfectum—and art is dhe + plasquam plue-perfectum—(then swinging my hand to and fro, and + cocking his little bright hazel eyes at me, that danced with vanity and + wine)—You see, my dear friend that I too have some lehrning? + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + ANSWER. Learning, Sir? Who dares suspect it? Who can listen to you for a + minute, who can even look at you, without perceiving the extent of it? + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + THE DANE. My dear friend!—(then with a would-be humble look, and in + a tone of voice as if he was reasoning) I could not talk so of prawns and + imperfectum, and futurum and plusquamplue perfectum, and all dhat, my dear + friend! without some lehrning? + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + ANSWER. Sir! a man like you cannot talk on any subject without discovering + the depth of his information. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + THE DANE. Dhe grammatic Greek, my friend; ha! ha! Ha! (laughing, and + swinging my hand to and fro—then with a sudden transition to great + solemnity) Now I will tell you, my dear friend! Dhere did happen about me + vat de whole historia of Denmark record no instance about nobody else. Dhe + bishop did ask me all dhe questions about all dhe religion in dhe Latin + grammar. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + ANSWER. The grammar, Sir? The language, I presume— + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + THE DANE. (A little offended.) Grammar is language, and language is + grammar— + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + ANSWER. Ten thousand pardons! + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + THE DANE. Vell, and I was only fourteen years— + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + ANSWER. Only fourteen years old? + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + THE DANE. No more. I vas fourteen years old—and he asked me all + questions, religion and philosophy, and all in dhe Latin language—and + I answered him all every one, my dear friend! all in dhe Latin language. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + ANSWER. A prodigy! an absolute prodigy! + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + THE DANE. No, no, no! he was a bishop, a great superintendent. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + ANSWER. Yes! a bishop. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + THE DANE. A bishop—not a mere predicant, not a prediger. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + ANSWER. My dear Sir! we have misunderstood each other. I said that your + answering in Latin at so early an age was a prodigy, that is, a thing that + is wonderful; that does not often happen. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + THE DANE. Often! Dhere is not von instance recorded in dhe whole historia + of Denmark. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + ANSWER. And since then, Sir—? + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + THE DANE. I was sent ofer to dhe Vest Indies—to our Island, and + dhere I had no more to do vid books. No! no! I put my genius anodher way—and + I haf made ten tousand pound a year. Is not dhat ghenius, my dear friend?—But + vat is money?—I dhink dhe poorest man alive my equal. Yes, my dear + friend; my little fortune is pleasant to my generous heart, because I can + do good—no man with so little a fortune ever did so much generosity—no + person—no man person, no woman person ever denies it. But we are all + Got’s children. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Here the Hanoverian interrupted him, and the other Dane, the Swede, and + the Prussian, joined us, together with a young Englishman who spoke the + German fluently, and interpreted to me many of the Prussian’s jokes. The + Prussian was a travelling merchant, turned of threescore, a hale man, + tall, strong, and stout, full of stories, gesticulations, and buffoonery, + with the soul as well as the look of a mountebank, who, while he is making + you laugh, picks your pocket. Amid all his droll looks and droll gestures, + there remained one look untouched by laughter; and that one look was the + true face, the others were but its mask. The Hanoverian was a pale, fat, + bloated young man, whose father had made a large fortune in London, as an + army-contractor. He seemed to emulate the manners of young Englishmen of + fortune. He was a good-natured fellow, not without information or + literature; but a most egregious coxcomb. He had been in the habit of + attending the House of Commons, and had once spoken, as he informed me, + with great applause in a debating society. For this he appeared to have + qualified himself with laudable industry: for he was perfect in Walker’s + Pronouncing Dictionary, and with an accent, which forcibly reminded me of + the Scotchman in Roderic Random, who professed to teach the English + pronunciation, he was constantly deferring to my superior judgment, + whether or no I had pronounced this or that word with propriety, or “the + true delicacy.” When he spoke, though it were only half a dozen sentences, + he always rose: for which I could detect no other motive, than his + partiality to that elegant phrase so liberally introduced in the orations + of our British legislators, “While I am on my legs.” The Swede, whom for + reasons that will soon appear, I shall distinguish by the name of + Nobility, was a strong-featured, scurvy-faced man, his complexion + resembling in colour, a red hot poker beginning to cool. He appeared + miserably dependent on the Dane; but was, however, incomparably the best + informed and most rational of the party. Indeed his manners and + conversation discovered him to be both a man of the world and a gentleman. + The Jew was in the hold: the French gentleman was lying on the deck so + ill, that I could observe nothing concerning him, except the affectionate + attentions of his servant to him. The poor fellow was very sick himself, + and every now and then ran to the side of the vessel, still keeping his + eye on his master, but returned in a moment and seated himself again by + him, now supporting his head, now wiping his forehead and talking to him + all the while in the most soothing tones. There had been a matrimonial + squabble of a very ludicrous kind in the cabin, between the little German + tailor and his little wife. He had secured two beds, one for himself and + one for her. This had struck the little woman as a very cruel action; she + insisted upon their having but one, and assured the mate in the most + piteous tones, that she was his lawful wife. The mate and the cabin boy + decided in her favour, abused the little man for his want of tenderness + with much humour, and hoisted him into the same compartment with his + sea-sick wife. This quarrel was interesting to me, as it procured me a + bed, which I otherwise should not have had. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + In the evening, at seven o’clock, the sea rolled higher, and the Dane, by + means of the greater agitation, eliminated enough of what he had been + swallowing to make room for a great deal more. His favourite potation was + sugar and brandy, i.e. a very little warm water with a large quantity of + brandy, sugar, and nutmeg His servant boy, a black-eyed Mulatto, had a + good-natured round face, exactly the colour of the skin of the + walnut-kernel. The Dane and I were again seated, tete-a-tete, in the + ship’s boat. The conversation, which was now indeed rather an oration than + a dialogue, became extravagant beyond all that I ever heard. He told me + that he had made a large fortune in the island of Santa Cruz, and was now + returning to Denmark to enjoy it. He expatiated on the style in which he + meant to live, and the great undertakings which he proposed to himself to + commence, till, the brandy aiding his vanity, and his vanity and garrulity + aiding the brandy, he talked like a madman—entreated me to accompany + him to Denmark—there I should see his influence with the government, + and he would introduce me to the king, etc., etc. Thus he went on dreaming + aloud, and then passing with a very lyrical transition to the subject of + general politics, he declaimed, like a member of the Corresponding + Society, about, (not concerning,) the Rights of Man, and assured me that, + notwithstanding his fortune, he thought the poorest man alive his equal. + “All are equal, my dear friend! all are equal! Ve are all Got’s children. + The poorest man haf the same rights with me. Jack! Jack! some more sugar + and brandy. Dhere is dhat fellow now! He is a Mulatto—but he is my + equal.—That’s right, Jack! (taking the sugar and brandy.) Here you + Sir! shake hands with dhis gentleman! Shake hands with me, you dog! Dhere, + dhere!—We are all equal my dear friend! Do I not speak like + Socrates, and Plato, and Cato—they were all philosophers, my dear + philosophe! all very great men!—and so was Homer and Virgil—but + they were poets. Yes, yes! I know all about it!—But what can anybody + say more than this? We are all equal, all Got’s children. I haf ten + tousand a year, but I am no more dhan de meanest man alive. I haf no + pride; and yet, my dear friend! I can say, do! and it is done. Ha! ha! ha! + my dear friend! Now dhere is dhat gentleman (pointing to Nobility) he is a + Swedish baron—you shall see. Ho! (calling to the Swede) get me, will + you, a bottle of wine from the cabin. SWEDE.—Here, Jack! go and get + your master a bottle of wine from the cabin. DANE. No, no, no! do you go + now—you go yourself you go now! SWEDE. Pah!—DANE. Now go! Go, + I pray you.” And the Swede went!! + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + After this the Dane commenced an harangue on religion, and mistaking me + for un philosophe in the continental sense of the word, he talked of Deity + in a declamatory style, very much resembling the devotional rants of that + rude blunderer, Mr. Thomas Paine, in his Age of Reason, and whispered in + my ear, what damned hypocrism all Jesus Christ’s business was. I dare + aver, that few men have less reason to charge themselves with indulging in + persiflage than myself. I should hate it, if it were only that it is a + Frenchman’s vice, and feel a pride in avoiding it, because our own + language is too honest to have a word to express it by. But in this + instance the temptation had been too powerful, and I have placed it on the + list of my offences. Pericles answered one of his dearest friends, who had + solicited him on a case of life and death, to take an equivocal oath for + his preservation: Debeo amicis opitulari, sed usque ad Deos <a href="#linknote-75" id="linknoteref-75">[75]</a>. + Friendship herself must place her last and boldest step on this side the + altar. What Pericles would not do to save a friend’s life, you may be + assured, I would not hazard merely to mill the chocolate-pot of a drunken + fool’s vanity till it frothed over. Assuming a serious look, I professed + myself a believer, and sunk at once an hundred fathoms in his good graces. + He retired to his cabin, and I wrapped myself up in my great coat, and + looked at the water. A beautiful white cloud of foam at momently intervals + coursed by the side of the vessel with a roar, and little stars of flame + danced and sparkled and went out in it: and every now and then light + detachments of this white cloud-like foam darted off from the vessel’s + side, each with its own small constellation, over the sea, and scoured out + of sight like a Tartar troop over a wilderness. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + It was cold, the cabin was at open war with my olfactories, and I found + reason to rejoice in my great coat, a weighty high-caped, respectable rug, + the collar of which turned over, and played the part of a night-cap very + passably. In looking up at two or three bright stars, which oscillated + with the motion of the sails, I fell asleep, but was awakened at one + o’clock, Monday morning, by a shower of rain. I found myself compelled to + go down into the cabin, where I slept very soundly, and awoke with a very + good appetite at breakfast time, my nostrils, the most placable of all the + senses, reconciled to, or indeed insensible of the mephitis. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Monday, September 17th, I had a long conversation with the Swede, who + spoke with the most poignant contempt of the Dane, whom he described as a + fool, purse-mad; but he confirmed the boasts of the Dane respecting the + largeness of his fortune, which he had acquired in the first instance as + an advocate, and afterwards as a planter. From the Dane and from himself I + collected that he was indeed a Swedish nobleman, who had squandered a + fortune, that was never very large, and had made over his property to the + Dane, on whom he was now utterly dependent. He seemed to suffer very + little pain from the Dane’s insolence. He was in a high degree humane and + attentive to the English lady, who suffered most fearfully, and for whom + he performed many little offices with a tenderness and delicacy which + seemed to prove real goodness of heart. Indeed his general manners and + conversation were not only pleasing, but even interesting; and I struggled + to believe his insensibility respecting the Dane philosophical fortitude. + For though the Dane was now quite sober, his character oozed out of him at + every pore. And after dinner, when he was again flushed with wine, every + quarter of an hour or perhaps oftener he would shout out to the Swede, + “Ho! Nobility, go—do such a thing! Mr. Nobility!—tell the + gentlemen such a story, and so forth;” with an insolence which must have + excited disgust and detestation, if his vulgar rants on the sacred rights + of equality, joined to his wild havoc of general grammar no less than of + the English language, had not rendered it so irresistibly laughable. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + At four o’clock I observed a wild duck swimming on the waves, a single + solitary wild duck. It is not easy to conceive, how interesting a thing it + looked in that round objectless desert of waters. I had associated such a + feeling of immensity with the ocean, that I felt exceedingly disappointed, + when I was out of sight of all land, at the narrowness and nearness, as it + were, of the circle of the horizon. So little are images capable of + satisfying the obscure feelings connected with words. In the evening the + sails were lowered, lest we should run foul of the land, which can be seen + only at a small distance. And at four o’clock, on Tuesday morning, I was + awakened by the cry of “land! land!” It was an ugly island rock at a + distance on our left, called Heiligeland, well known to many passengers + from Yarmouth to Hamburg, who have been obliged by stormy weather to pass + weeks and weeks in weary captivity on it, stripped of all their money by + the exorbitant demands of the wretches who inhabit it. So at least the + sailors informed me.—About nine o’clock we saw the main land, which + seemed scarcely able to hold its head above water, low, flat, and dreary, + with lighthouses and land-marks which seemed to give a character and + language to the dreariness. We entered the mouth of the Elbe, passing + Neu-werk; though as yet the right bank only of the river was visible to + us. On this I saw a church, and thanked God for my safe voyage, not + without affectionate thoughts of those I had left in England. At eleven + o’clock on the same morning we arrived at Cuxhaven, the ship dropped + anchor, and the boat was hoisted out, to carry the Hanoverian and a few + others on shore. The captain agreed to take us, who remained, to Hamburg + for ten guineas, to which the Dane contributed so largely, that the other + passengers paid but half a guinea each. Accordingly we hauled anchor, and + passed gently up the river. At Cuxhaven both sides of the river may be + seen in clear weather; we could now see the right bank only. We passed a + multitude of English traders that had been waiting many weeks for a wind. + In a short time both banks became visible, both flat and evidencing the + labour of human hands by their extreme neatness. On the left bank I saw a + church or two in the distance; on the right bank we passed by steeple and + windmill and cottage, and windmill and single house, windmill and + windmill, and neat single house, and steeple. These were the objects and + in the succession. The shores were very green and planted with trees not + inelegantly. Thirty-five miles from Cuxhaven the night came on us, and, as + the navigation of the Elbe is perilous, we dropped anchor. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Over what place, thought I, does the moon hang to your eye, my dearest + friend? To me it hung over the left bank of the Elbe. Close above the moon + was a huge volume of deep black cloud, while a very thin fillet crossed + the middle of the orb, as narrow and thin and black as a ribbon of crape. + The long trembling road of moonlight, which lay on the water and reached + to the stern of our vessel, glimmered dimly and obscurely. We saw two or + three lights from the right bank, probably from bed-rooms. I felt the + striking contrast between the silence of this majestic stream, whose banks + are populous with men and women and children, and flocks and herds—between + the silence by night of this peopled river, and the ceaseless noise, and + uproar, and loud agitations of the desolate solitude of the ocean. The + passengers below had all retired to their beds; and I felt the interest of + this quiet scene the more deeply from the circumstance of having just + quitted them. For the Prussian had during the whole of the evening + displayed all his talents to captivate the Dane, who had admitted him into + the train of his dependents. The young Englishman continued to interpret + the Prussian’s jokes to me. They were all without exception profane and + abominable, but some sufficiently witty, and a few incidents, which he + related in his own person, were valuable as illustrating the manners of + the countries in which they had taken place. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Five o’clock on Wednesday morning we hauled the anchor, but were soon + obliged to drop it again in consequence of a thick fog, which our captain + feared would continue the whole day; but about nine it cleared off, and we + sailed slowly along, close by the shore of a very beautiful island, forty + miles from Cuxhaven, the wind continuing slack. This holm or island is + about a mile and a half in length, wedge-shaped, well wooded, with glades + of the liveliest green, and rendered more interesting by the remarkably + neat farm-house on it. It seemed made for retirement without solitude—a + place that would allure one’s friends, while it precluded the impertinent + calls of mere visitors. The shores of the Elbe now became more beautiful, + with rich meadows and trees running like a low wall along the river’s + edge; and peering over them, neat houses and, (especially on the right + bank,) a profusion of steeple-spires, white, black, or red. An instinctive + taste teaches men to build their churches in flat countries with + spire-steeples, which, as they cannot be referred to any other object, + point, as with silent finger, to the sky and stars, and sometimes, when + they reflect the brazen light of a rich though rainy sun-set, appear like + a pyramid of flame burning heavenward. I remember once, and once only, to + have seen a spire in a narrow valley of a mountainous country. The effect + was not only mean but ludicrous, and reminded me against my will of an + extinguisher; the close neighbourhood of the high mountain, at the foot of + which it stood, had so completely dwarfed it, and deprived it of all + connection with the sky or clouds. Forty-six English miles from Cuxhaven, + and sixteen from Hamburg, the Danish village Veder ornaments the left bank + with its black steeple, and close by it is the wild and pastoral hamlet of + Schulau. Hitherto both the right and left bank, green to the very brink, + and level with the river, resembled the shores of a park canal. The trees + and houses were alike low, sometimes the low trees over-topping the yet + lower houses, sometimes the low houses rising above the yet lower trees. + But at Schulau the left bank rises at once forty or fifty feet, and stares + on the river with its perpendicular facade of sand, thinly patched with + tufts of green. The Elbe continued to present a more and more lively + spectacle from the multitude of fishing boats and the flocks of sea gulls + wheeling round them, the clamorous rivals and companions of the fishermen; + till we came to Blankaness, a most interesting village scattered amid + scattered trees, over three hills in three divisions. Each of the three + hills stares upon the river, with faces of bare sand, with which the boats + with their bare poles, standing in files along the banks, made a sort of + fantastic harmony. Between each facade lies a green and woody dell, each + deeper than the other. In short it is a large village made up of + individual cottages, each cottage in the centre of its own little wood or + orchard, and each with its own separate path: a village with a labyrinth + of paths, or rather a neighbourhood of houses! It is inhabited by + fishermen and boat-makers, the Blankanese boats being in great request + through the whole navigation of the Elbe. Here first we saw the spires of + Hamburg, and from hence, as far as Altona, the left bank of the Elbe is + uncommonly pleasing, considered as the vicinity of an industrious and + republican city—in that style of beauty, or rather prettiness, that + might tempt the citizen into the country, and yet gratify the taste which + he had acquired in the town. Summer-houses and Chinese show-work are + everywhere scattered along the high and green banks; the boards of the + farm-houses left unplastered and gaily painted with green and yellow; and + scarcely a tree not cut into shapes and made to remind the human being of + his own power and intelligence instead of the wisdom of nature. Still, + however, these are links of connection between town and country, and far + better than the affectation of tastes and enjoyments for which men’s + habits have disqualified them. Pass them by on Saturdays and Sundays with + the burghers of Hamburg smoking their pipes, the women and children + feasting in the alcoves of box and yew, and it becomes a nature of its + own. On Wednesday, four o’clock, we left the vessel, and passing with + trouble through the huge masses of shipping that seemed to choke the wide + Elbe from Altona upward, we were at length landed at the Boom House, + Hamburg. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + LETTER II + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + To a lady. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + RATZEBURG. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Meine liebe Freundinn, + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + See how natural the German comes from me, though I have not yet been six + weeks in the country!—almost as fluently as English from my + neighbour the Amtsschreiber, (or public secretary,) who as often as we + meet, though it should be half a dozen times in the same day, never fails + to greet me with—“—-ddam your ploot unt eyes, my dearest + Englander! vhee goes it!”—which is certainly a proof of great + generosity on his part, these words being his whole stock of English. I + had, however, a better reason than the desire of displaying my + proficiency: for I wished to put you in good humour with a language, from + the acquirement of which I have promised myself much edification and the + means too of communicating a new pleasure to you and your sister, during + our winter readings. And how can I do this better than by pointing out its + gallant attention to the ladies? Our English affix, ess, is, I believe, + confined either to words derived from the Latin, as actress, directress, + etc., or from the French, as mistress, duchess, and the like. But the + German, inn, enables us to designate the sex in every possible relation of + life. Thus the Amtmann’s lady is the Frau Amtmanninn—the secretary’s + wife, (by the bye, the handsomest woman I have yet seen in Germany,) is + die allerliebste Frau Amtsschreiberinn—the colonel’s lady, die Frau + Obristinn or Colonellinn—and even the parson’s wife, die Frau + Pastorinn. But I am especially pleased with their Freundinn, which, unlike + the amica of the Romans, is seldom used but in its best and purest sense. + Now, I know it will be said, that a friend is already something more than + a friend, when a man feels an anxiety to express to himself that this + friend is a female; but this I deny—in that sense at least in which + the objection will be made. I would hazard the impeachment of heresy, + rather than abandon my belief that there is a sex in our souls as well as + in their perishable garments; and he who does not feel it, never truly + loved a sister—nay, is not capable even of loving a wife as she + deserves to be loved, if she indeed be worthy of that holy name. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Now I know, my gentle friend, what you are murmuring to yourself—“This + is so like him! running away after the first bubble, that chance has blown + off from the surface of his fancy; when one is anxious to learn where he + is and what he has seen.” Well then! that I am settled at Ratzeburg, with + my motives and the particulars of my journey hither, will inform you. My + first letter to him, with which doubtless he has edified your whole + fireside, left me safely landed at Hamburg on the Elbe Stairs, at the Boom + House. While standing on the stairs, I was amused by the contents of the + passage-boat which crosses the river once or twice a day from Hamburg to + Haarburg. It was stowed close with all people of all nations, in all sorts + of dresses; the men all with pipes in their mouths, and these pipes of all + shapes and fancies—straight and wreathed, simple and complex, long + and short, cane, clay, porcelain, wood, tin, silver, and ivory; most of + them with silver chains and silver bole-covers. Pipes and boots are the + first universal characteristic of the male Hamburgers that would strike + the eye of a raw traveller. But I forget my promise of journalizing as + much as possible.—Therefore, Septr. 19th Afternoon. My companion, + who, you recollect, speaks the French language with unusual propriety, had + formed a kind of confidential acquaintance with the emigrant, who appeared + to be a man of sense, and whose manners were those of a perfect gentleman. + He seemed about fifty or rather more. Whatever is unpleasant in French + manners from excess in the degree, had been softened down by age or + affliction; and all that is delightful in the kind, alacrity and delicacy + in little attentions, etc., remained, and without bustle, gesticulation, + or disproportionate eagerness. His demeanour exhibited the minute + philanthropy of a polished Frenchman, tempered by the sobriety of the + English character disunited from its reserve. There is something strangely + attractive in the character of a gentleman when you apply the word + emphatically, and yet in that sense of the term which it is more easy to + feel than to define. It neither includes the possession of high moral + excellence, nor of necessity even the ornamental graces of manner. I have + now in my mind’s eye a person whose life would scarcely stand scrutiny + even in the court of honour, much less in that of conscience; and his + manners, if nicely observed, would of the two excite an idea of + awkwardness rather than of elegance: and yet every one who conversed with + him felt and acknowledged the gentleman. The secret of the matter, I + believe to be this—we feel the gentlemanly character present to us, + whenever, under all the circumstances of social intercourse, the trivial + not less than the important, through the whole detail of his manners and + deportment, and with the ease of a habit, a person shows respect to others + in such a way, as at the same time implies in his own feelings an habitual + and assured anticipation of reciprocal respect from them to himself. In + short, the gentlemanly character arises out of the feeling of Equality + acting, as a Habit, yet flexible to the varieties of Rank, and modified + without being disturbed or superseded by them. This description will + perhaps explain to you the ground of one of your own remarks, as I was + englishing to you the interesting dialogue concerning the causes of the + corruption of eloquence. “What perfect gentlemen these old Romans must + have been! I was impressed, I remember, with the same feeling at the time + I was reading a translation of Cicero’s philosophical dialogues and of his + epistolary correspondence: while in Pliny’s Letters I seemed to have a + different feeling—he gave me the notion of a very fine gentleman.” + You uttered the words as if you had felt that the adjunct had injured the + substance and the increased degree altered the kind. Pliny was the + courtier of an absolute monarch—Cicero an aristocratic republican. + For this reason the character of gentleman, in the sense to which I have + confined it, is frequent in England, rare in France, and found, where it + is found, in age or the latest period of manhood; while in Germany the + character is almost unknown. But the proper antipode of a gentleman is to + be sought for among the Anglo-American democrats. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + I owe this digression, as an act of justice to this amiable Frenchman, and + of humiliation for myself. For in a little controversy between us on the + subject of French poetry, he made me feel my own ill behaviour by the + silent reproof of contrast, and when I afterwards apologized to him for + the warmth of my language, he answered me with a cheerful expression of + surprise, and an immediate compliment, which a gentleman might both make + with dignity and receive with pleasure. I was pleased therefore to find it + agreed on, that we should, if possible, take up our quarters in the same + house. My friend went with him in search of an hotel, and I to deliver my + letters of recommendation. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + I walked onward at a brisk pace, enlivened not so much by anything I + actually saw, as by the confused sense that I was for the first time in my + life on the continent of our planet. I seemed to myself like a liberated + bird that had been hatched in an aviary, who now, after his first soar of + freedom, poises himself in the upper air. Very naturally I began to wonder + at all things, some for being so like and some for being so unlike the + things in England—Dutch women with large umbrella hats shooting out + half a yard before them, with a prodigal plumpness of petticoat behind—the + women of Hamburg with caps plaited on the caul with silver, or gold, or + both, bordered round with stiffened lace, which stood out before their + eyes, but not lower, so that the eyes sparkled through it—the + Hanoverian with the fore part of the head bare, then a stiff lace standing + up like a wall perpendicular on the cap, and the cap behind tailed with an + enormous quantity of ribbon which lies or tosses on the back: + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “Their visnomies seem’d like a goodly banner<br> + Spread in defiance of all enemies.” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + The ladies all in English dresses, all rouged, and all with bad teeth: + which you notice instantly from their contrast to the almost animal, too + glossy mother-of-pearl whiteness and the regularity of the teeth of the + laughing, loud-talking country-women and servant-girls, who with their + clean white stockings and with slippers without heel quarters, tripped + along the dirty streets, as if they were secured by a charm from the dirt: + with a lightness too, which surprised me, who had always considered it as + one of the annoyances of sleeping in an Inn, that I had to clatter up + stairs in a pair of them. The streets narrow; to my English nose + sufficiently offensive, and explaining at first sight the universal use of + boots; without any appropriate path for the foot-passengers; the gable + ends of the houses all towards the street, some in the ordinary triangular + form and entire as the botanists say; but the greater number notched and + scolloped with more than Chinese grotesqueness. Above all, I was struck + with the profusion of windows, so large and so many, that the houses look + all glass. Mr. Pitt’s window tax, with its pretty little additionals + sprouting out from it like young toadlets on the back of a Surinam toad, + would certainly improve the appearance of the Hamburg houses, which have a + slight summer look, not in keeping with their size, incongruous with the + climate, and precluding that feeling of retirement and self-content, which + one wishes to associate with a house in a noisy city. But a conflagration + would, I fear, be the previous requisite to the production of any + architectural beauty in Hamburg: for verily it is a filthy town. I moved + on and crossed a multitude of ugly bridges, with huge black deformities of + water wheels close by them. The water intersects the city everywhere, and + would have furnished to the genius of Italy the capabilities of all that + is most beautiful and magnificent in architecture. It might have been the + rival of Venice, and it is huddle and ugliness, stench and stagnation. The + Jungfer Stieg, (that is, Young Ladies’ Walk), to which my letters directed + me, made an exception. It was a walk or promenade planted with treble rows + of elm trees, which, being yearly pruned and cropped, remain slim and + dwarf-like. This walk occupies one side of a square piece of water, with + many swans on it perfectly tame, and, moving among the swans, shewy + pleasure-boats with ladies in them, rowed by their husbands or lovers.——— + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + (Some paragraphs have been here omitted.)———thus + embarrassed by sad and solemn politeness still more than by broken + English, it sounded like the voice of an old friend when I heard the + emigrant’s servant inquiring after me. He had come for the purpose of + guiding me to our hotel. Through streets and streets I pressed on as happy + as a child, and, I doubt not, with a childish expression of wonderment in + my busy eyes, amused by the wicker waggons with movable benches across + them, one behind the other, (these were the hackney coaches;) amused by + the sign-boards of the shops, on which all the articles sold within are + painted, and that too very exactly, though in a grotesque confusion, (a + useful substitute for language in this great mart of nations;) amused with + the incessant tinkling of the shop and house door bells, the bell hanging + over each door and struck with a small iron rod at every entrance and + exit;—and finally, amused by looking in at the windows, as I passed + along; the ladies and gentlemen drinking coffee or playing cards, and the + gentlemen all smoking. I wished myself a painter, that I might have sent + you a sketch of one of the card parties. The long pipe of one gentleman + rested on the table, its bole half a yard from his mouth, fuming like a + censer by the fish-pool—the other gentleman, who was dealing the + cards, and of course had both hands employed, held his pipe in his teeth, + which hanging down between his knees, smoked beside his ancles. Hogarth + himself never drew a more ludicrous distortion both of attitude and + physiognomy, than this effort occasioned nor was there wanting beside it + one of those beautiful female faces which the same Hogarth, in whom the + satirist never extinguished that love of beauty which belonged to him as a + poet, so often and so gladly introduces, as the central figure, in a crowd + of humorous deformities, which figures, (such is the power of true + genius!) neither acts, nor is meant to act as a contrast; but diffuses + through all, and over each of the group, a spirit of reconciliation and + human kindness; and, even when the attention is no longer consciously + directed to the cause of this feeling, still blends its tenderness with + our laughter: and thus prevents the instructive merriment at the whims of + nature or the foibles or humours of our fellow-men from degenerating into + the heart-poison of contempt or hatred. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Our hotel DIE WILDE MAN, (the sign of which was no bad likeness of the + landlord, who had ingrafted on a very grim face a restless grin, that was + at every man’s service, and which indeed, like an actor rehearsing to + himself, he kept playing in expectation of an occasion for it)—neither + our hotel, I say, nor its landlord were of the genteelest class. But it + has one great advantage for a stranger, by being in the market place, and + the next neighbour of the huge church of St. Nicholas: a church with shops + and houses built up against it, out of which wens and warts its high massy + steeple rises, necklaced near the top with a round of large gilt balls. A + better pole-star could scarcely be desired. Long shall I retain the + impression made on my mind by the awful echo, so loud and long and + tremulous, of the deep-toned clock within this church, which awoke me at + two in the morning from a distressful dream, occasioned, I believe, by the + feather bed, which is used here instead of bed-clothes. I will rather + carry my blanket about with me like a wild Indian, than submit to this + abominable custom. Our emigrant acquaintance was, we found, an intimate + friend of the celebrated Abbe de Lisle: and from the large fortune which + he possessed under the monarchy, had rescued sufficient not only for + independence, but for respectability. He had offended some of his + fellow-emigrants in London, whom he had obliged with considerable sums, by + a refusal to make further advances, and in consequence of their intrigues + had received an order to quit the kingdom. I thought it one proof of his + innocence, that he attached no blame either to the alien act, or to the + minister who had exerted it against him; and a still greater, that he + spoke of London with rapture, and of his favourite niece, who had married + and settled in England, with all the fervour and all the pride of a fond + parent. A man sent by force out of a country, obliged to sell out of the + stocks at a great loss, and exiled from those pleasures and that style of + society which habit had rendered essential to his happiness, whose + predominant feelings were yet all of a private nature, resentment for + friendship outraged, and anguish for domestic affections interrupted—such + a man, I think, I could dare warrant guiltless of espionnage in any + service, most of all in that of the present French Directory. He spoke + with ecstasy of Paris under the Monarchy: and yet the particular facts, + which made up his description, left as deep a conviction on my mind, of + French worthlessness, as his own tale had done of emigrant ingratitude. + Since my arrival in Germany, I have not met a single person, even among + those who abhor the Revolution, that spoke with favour, or even charity of + the French emigrants. Though the belief of their influence in the + organization of this disastrous war (from the horrors of which, North + Germany deems itself only reprieved, not secured,) may have some share in + the general aversion with which they are regarded: yet I am deeply + persuaded that the far greater part is owing to their own profligacy, to + their treachery and hardheartedness to each other, and the domestic misery + or corrupt principles which so many of them have carried into the families + of their protectors. My heart dilated with honest pride, as I recalled to + mind the stern yet amiable characters of the English patriots, who sought + refuge on the Continent at the Restoration! O let not our civil war under + the first Charles be paralleled with the French Revolution! In the former, + the character overflowed from excess of principle; in the latter from the + fermentation of the dregs! The former, was a civil war between the virtues + and virtuous prejudices of the two parties; the latter, between the vices. + The Venetian glass of the French monarchy shivered and flew asunder with + the working of a double poison. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Sept. 20th. I was introduced to Mr. Klopstock, the brother of the poet, + who again introduced me to Professor Ebeling, an intelligent and lively + man, though deaf: so deaf, indeed, that it was a painful effort to talk + with him, as we were obliged to drop our pearls into a huge ear-trumpet. + From this courteous and kind-hearted man of letters, (I hope, the German + literati in general may resemble this first specimen), I heard a tolerable + Italian pun, and an interesting anecdote. When Buonaparte was in Italy, + having been irritated by some instance of perfidy, he said in a loud and + vehement tone, in a public company—“’tis a true proverb, gli + Italiani tutti ladroni”—(that is, the Italians all plunderers.) A + lady had the courage to reply, “Non tutti; ma BUONA PARTE,” (not all, but + a good part, or Buonaparte.) This, I confess, sounded to my ears, as one + of the many good things that might have been said. The anecdote is more + valuable; for it instances the ways and means of French insinuation. Hoche + had received much information concerning the face of the country from a + map of unusual fulness and accuracy, the maker of which, he heard, resided + at Duesseldorf. At the storming of Duesseldorf by the French army, Hoche + previously ordered, that the house and property of this man should be + preserved, and intrusted the performance of the order to an officer on + whose troop he could rely. Finding afterwards, that the man had escaped + before the storming commenced, Hoche exclaimed, “HE had no reason to flee! + It is for such men, not against them, that the French nation makes war, + and consents to shed the blood of its children.” You remember Milton’s + sonnet— + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “The great Emathian conqueror bid spare<br> + The house of Pindarus when temple and tower<br> + Went to the ground”——— +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Now though the Duesseldorf map-maker may stand in the same relation to the + Theban bard, as the snail, that marks its path by lines of film on the + wall it creeps over, to the eagle that soars sunward and beats the tempest + with its wings; it does not therefore follow, that the Jacobin of France + may not be as valiant a general and as good a politician, as the madman of + Macedon. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + From Professor Ebeling’s Mr. Klopstock accompanied my friend and me to his + own house, where I saw a fine bust of his brother. There was a solemn and + heavy greatness in his countenance, which corresponded to my + preconceptions of his style and genius.—I saw there, likewise, a + very fine portrait of Lessing, whose works are at present the chief object + of my admiration. His eyes were uncommonly like mine, if anything, rather + larger and more prominent. But the lower part of his face and his nose—O + what an exquisite expression of elegance and sensibility!—There + appeared no depth, weight, or comprehensiveness in the forehead.—The + whole face seemed to say, that Lessing was a man of quick and voluptuous + feelings; of an active but light fancy; acute; yet acute not in the + observation of actual life, but in the arrangements and management of the + ideal world, that is, in taste, and in metaphysics. I assure you, that I + wrote these very words in my memorandum-book with the portrait before my + eyes, and when I knew nothing of Lessing but his name, and that he was a + German writer of eminence. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + We consumed two hours and more over a bad dinner, at the table d’hote. + “Patience at a German ordinary, smiling at time.” The Germans are the + worst cooks in Europe. There is placed for every two persons a bottle of + common wine—Rhenish and Claret alternately; but in the houses of the + opulent, during the many and long intervals of the dinner, the servants + hand round glasses of richer wines. At the Lord of Culpin’s they came in + this order. Burgundy—Madeira—Port—Frontiniac—Pacchiaretti—Old + Hock—Mountain—Champagne—Hock again—Bishop, and + lastly, Punch. A tolerable quantum, methinks! The last dish at the + ordinary, viz. slices of roast pork, (for all the larger dishes are + brought in, cut up, and first handed round and then set on the table,) + with stewed prunes and other sweet fruits, and this followed by cheese and + butter, with plates of apples, reminded me of Shakespeare <a href="#linknote-76" id="linknoteref-76">[76]</a>, + and Shakespeare put it in my head to go to the French comedy. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Bless me! why it is worse than our modern English plays! The first act + informed me, that a court martial is to be held on a Count Vatron, who had + drawn his sword on the Colonel, his brother-in-law. The officers plead in + his behalf—in vain! His wife, the Colonel’s sister, pleads with most + tempestuous agonies—in vain! She falls into hysterics and faints + away, to the dropping of the inner curtain! In the second act sentence of + death is passed on the Count—his wife, as frantic and hysterical as + before: more so (good industrious creature!) she could not be. The third + and last act, the wife still frantic, very frantic indeed!—the + soldiers just about to fire, the handkerchief actually dropped; when + reprieve! reprieve! is heard from behind the scenes: and in comes Prince + Somebody, pardons the Count, and the wife is still frantic, only with joy; + that was all! + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + O dear lady! this is one of the cases, in which laughter is followed by + melancholy: for such is the kind of drama, which is now substituted every + where for Shakespeare and Racine. You well know, that I offer violence to + my own feelings in joining these names. But however meanly I may think of + the French serious drama, even in its most perfect specimens; and with + whatever right I may complain of its perpetual falsification of the + language, and of the connections and transitions of thought, which Nature + has appropriated to states of passion; still, however, the French + tragedies are consistent works of art, and the offspring of great + intellectual power. Preserving a fitness in the parts, and a harmony in + the whole, they form a nature of their own, though a false nature. Still + they excite the minds of the spectators to active thought, to a striving + after ideal excellence. The soul is not stupefied into mere sensations by + a worthless sympathy with our own ordinary sufferings, or an empty + curiosity for the surprising, undignified by the language or the + situations which awe and delight the imagination. What, (I would ask of + the crowd, that press forward to the pantomimic tragedies and weeping + comedies of Kotzebue and his imitators), what are you seeking? Is it + comedy? But in the comedy of Shakespeare and Moliere the more accurate my + knowledge, and the more profoundly I think, the greater is the + satisfaction that mingles with my laughter. For though the qualities which + these writers pourtray are ludicrous indeed, either from the kind or the + excess, and exquisitely ludicrous, yet are they the natural growth of the + human mind and such as, with more or less change in the drapery, I can + apply to my own heart, or at least to whole classes of my + fellow-creatures. How often are not the moralist and the metaphysician + obliged for the happiest illustrations of general truths and the + subordinate laws of human thought and action to quotations, not only from + the tragic characters, but equally from the Jaques, Falstaff, and even + from the fools and clowns of Shakespeare, or from the Miser, + Hypochondriast, and Hypocrite, of Moliere! Say not, that I am recommending + abstractions: for these class-characteristics, which constitute the + instructiveness of a character, are so modified and particularized in each + person of the Shakesperian Drama, that life itself does not excite more + distinctly that sense of individuality which belongs to real existence. + Paradoxical as it may sound, one of the essential properties of geometry + is not less essential to dramatic excellence, and, (if I may mention his + name without pedantry to a lady,) Aristotle has accordingly required of + the poet an involution of the universal in the individual. The chief + differences are, that in geometry it is the universal truth itself, which + is uppermost in the consciousness, in poetry the individual form in which + the truth is clothed. With the ancients, and not less with the elder + dramatists of England and France, both comedy and tragedy were considered + as kinds of poetry. They neither sought in comedy to make us laugh merely, + much less to make us laugh by wry faces, accidents of jargon, slang + phrases for the day, or the clothing of commonplace morals in metaphors + drawn from the shops or mechanic occupations of their characters; nor did + they condescend in tragedy to wheedle away the applause of the spectators, + by representing before them fac-similes of their own mean selves in all + their existing meanness, or to work on their sluggish sympathies by a + pathos not a whit more respectable than the maudlin tears of drunkenness. + Their tragic scenes were meant to affect us indeed, but within the bounds + of pleasure, and in union with the activity both of our understanding and + imagination. They wished to transport the mind to a sense of its possible + greatness, and to implant the germs of that greatness during the temporary + oblivion of the worthless “thing, we are” and of the peculiar state, in + which each man happens to be; suspending our individual recollections and + lulling them to sleep amid the music of nobler thoughts. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Hold!—(methinks I hear the spokesman of the crowd reply, and we will + listen to him. I am the plaintiff, and he the defendant.) + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + DEFENDANT. Hold! are not our modern sentimental plays filled with the best + Christian morality? + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + PLAINTIFF. Yes! just as much of it, and just that part of it, which you + can exercise without a single Christian virtue—without a single + sacrifice that is really painful to you!—just as much as flatters + you, sends you away pleased with your own hearts, and quite reconciled to + your vices, which can never be thought very ill of, when they keep such + good company, and walk hand in hand with so much compassion and + generosity; adulation so loathsome, that you would spit in the man’s face + who dared offer it to you in a private company, unless you interpreted it + as insulting irony, you appropriate with infinite satisfaction, when you + share the garbage with the whole stye, and gobble it out of a common + trough. No Caesar must pace your boards—no Antony, no royal Dane, no + Orestes, no Andromache! + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + D. No: or as few of them as possible. What has a plain citizen of London, + or Hamburg, to do with your kings and queens, and your old school-boy + Pagan heroes? Besides, every body knows the stories; and what curiosity + can we feel—— + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + P. What, Sir, not for the manner?—not for the delightful language of + the poet?—not for the situations, the action and reaction of the + passions? + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + D. You are hasty, Sir! the only curiosity, we feel, is in the story: and + how can we be anxious concerning the end of a play, or be surprised by it, + when we know how it will turn out? + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + P. Your pardon, for having interrupted you! we now understand each other. + You seek then, in a tragedy, which wise men of old held for the highest + effort of human genius, the same gratification, as that you receive from a + new novel, the last German romance, and other dainties of the day, which + can be enjoyed but once. If you carry these feelings to the sister art of + Painting, Michael Angelo’s Sixtine Chapel, and the Scripture Gallery of + Raphael can expect no favour from you. You know all about them beforehand; + and are, doubtless, more familiar with the subjects of those paintings, + than with the tragic tales of the historic or heroic ages. There is a + consistency, therefore, in your preference of contemporary writers: for + the great men of former times, those at least who were deemed great by our + ancestors, sought so little to gratify this kind of curiosity, that they + seemed to have regarded the story in a not much higher light, than the + painter regards his canvass: as that on, not by, which they were to + display their appropriate excellence. No work, resembling a tale or + romance, can well show less variety of invention in the incidents, or less + anxiety in weaving them together, than the DON QUIXOTE of Cervantes. Its + admirers feel the disposition to go back and re-peruse some preceding + chapter, at least ten times for once that they find any eagerness to hurry + forwards: or open the book on those parts which they best recollect, even + as we visit those friends oftenest whom we love most, and with whose + characters and actions we are the most intimately acquainted. In the + divine Ariosto, (as his countrymen call this, their darling poet,) I + question whether there be a single tale of his own invention, or the + elements of which, were not familiar to the readers of “old romance.” I + will pass by the ancient Greeks, who thought it even necessary to the + fable of a tragedy, that its substance should be previously known. That + there had been at least fifty tragedies with the same title, would be one + of the motives which determined Sophocles and Euripides, in the choice of + Electra as a subject. But Milton— + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + D. Aye Milton, indeed!—but do not Dr. Johnson and other great men + tell us, that nobody now reads Milton but as a task? + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + P. So much the worse for them, of whom this can be truly said! But why + then do you pretend to admire Shakespeare? The greater part, if not all, + of his dramas were, as far as the names and the main incidents are + concerned, already stock plays. All the stories, at least, on which they + are built, pre-existed in the chronicles, ballads, or translations of + contemporary or preceding English writers. Why, I repeat, do you pretend + to admire Shakespeare? Is it, perhaps, that you only pretend to admire + him? However, as once for all, you have dismissed the well-known events + and personages of history, or the epic muse, what have you taken in their + stead? Whom has your tragic muse armed with her bowl and dagger? the + sentimental muse I should have said, whom you have seated in the throne of + tragedy? What heroes has she reared on her buskins? + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + D. O! our good friends and next-door neighbours—honest tradesmen, + valiant tars, high-spirited half-pay officers, philanthropic Jews, + virtuous courtezans, tender-hearted braziers, and sentimental rat- + catchers!—(a little bluff or so, but all our very generous, tender- + hearted characters are a little rude or misanthropic, and all our + misanthropes very tender-hearted.) + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + P. But I pray you, friend, in what actions great or interesting, can such + men be engaged? + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + D. They give away a great deal of money; find rich dowries for young men + and maidens who have all other good qualities; they brow-beat lords, + baronets, and justices of the peace, (for they are as bold as Hector!)—they + rescue stage coaches at the instant they are falling down precipices; + carry away infants in the sight of opposing armies; and some of our + performers act a muscular able-bodied man to such perfection, that our + dramatic poets, who always have the actors in their eye, seldom fail to + make their favourite male character as strong as Samson. And then they + take such prodigious leaps!! And what is done on the stage is more + striking even than what is acted. I once remember such a deafening + explosion, that I could not hear a word of the play for half an act after + it: and a little real gunpowder being set fire to at the same time, and + smelt by all the spectators, the naturalness of the scene was quite + astonishing! + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + P. But how can you connect with such men and such actions that dependence + of thousands on the fate of one, which gives so lofty an interest to the + personages of Shakespeare, and the Greek Tragedians? How can you connect + with them that sublimest of all feelings, the power of destiny and the + controlling might of heaven, which seems to elevate the characters which + sink beneath its irresistible blow? + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + D. O mere fancies! We seek and find on the present stage our own wants and + passions, our own vexations, losses, and embarrassments. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + P. It is your own poor pettifogging nature then, which you desire to have + represented before you?—not human nature in its height and vigour? + But surely you might find the former with all its joys and sorrows, more + conveniently in your own houses and parishes. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + D. True! but here comes a difference. Fortune is blind, but the poet has + his eyes open, and is besides as complaisant as fortune is capricious. He + makes every thing turn out exactly as we would wish it. He gratifies us by + representing those as hateful or contemptible whom we hate and wish to + despise. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + P. (aside.) That is, he gratifies your envy by libelling your superiors. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + D. He makes all those precise moralists, who affect to be better than + their neighbours, turn out at last abject hypocrites, traitors, and + hard-hearted villains; and your men of spirit, who take their girl and + their glass with equal freedom, prove the true men of honour, and, (that + no part of the audience may remain unsatisfied,) reform in the last scene, + and leave no doubt in the minds of the ladies, that they will make most + faithful and excellent husbands: though it does seem a pity, that they + should be obliged to get rid of qualities which had made them so + interesting! Besides, the poor become rich all at once; and in the final + matrimonial choice the opulent and high-born themselves are made to + confess; that VIRTUE IS THE ONLY TRUE NOBILITY, AND THAT A LOVELY WOMAN IS + A DOWRY OF HERSELF!! + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + P. Excellent! But you have forgotten those brilliant flashes of loyalty, + those patriotic praises of the King and Old England, which, especially if + conveyed in a metaphor from the ship or the shop, so often solicit and so + unfailingly receive the public plaudit! I give your prudence credit for + the omission. For the whole system of your drama is a moral and + intellectual Jacobinism of the most dangerous kind, and those common-place + rants of loyalty are no better than hypocrisy in your playwrights, and + your own sympathy with them a gross self-delusion. For the whole secret of + dramatic popularity consists with you in the confusion and subversion of + the natural order of things, their causes and their effects; in the + excitement of surprise, by representing the qualities of liberality, + refined feeling, and a nice sense of honour, (those things rather which + pass among you for such), in persons and in classes of life where + experience teaches us least to expect them; and in rewarding with all the + sympathies, that are the dues of virtue, those criminals whom law, reason, + and religion have excommunicated from our esteem! + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + And now—good night! Truly! I might have written this last sheet + without having gone to Germany; but I fancied myself talking to you by + your own fireside, and can you think it a small pleasure to me to forget + now and then, that I am not there? Besides, you and my other good friends + have made up your minds to me as I am, and from whatever place I write you + will expect that part of my “Travels” will consist of excursions in my own + mind. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + LETTER III + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + RATZEBURG. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + No little fish thrown back again into the water, no fly unimprisoned from + a child’s hand, could more buoyantly enjoy its element, than I this clean + and peaceful house, with this lovely view of the town, groves, and lake of + Ratzeburg, from the window at which I am writing. My spirits certainly, + and my health I fancied, were beginning to sink under the noise, dirt, and + unwholesome air of our Hamburg hotel. I left it on Sunday, Sept. 23rd, + with a letter of introduction from the poet Klopstock, to the Amtmann of + Ratzeburg. The Amtmann received me with kindness, and introduced me to the + worthy pastor, who agreed to board and lodge me for any length of time not + less than a month. The vehicle, in which I took my place, was considerably + larger than an English stage-coach, to which it bore much the same + proportion and rude resemblance, that an elephant’s ear does to the human. + Its top was composed of naked boards of different colours, and seeming to + have been parts of different wainscots. Instead of windows there were + leathern curtains with a little eye of glass in each: they perfectly + answered the purpose of keeping out the prospect and letting in the cold. + I could observe little therefore, but the inns and farmhouses at which we + stopped. They were all alike, except in size: one great room, like a barn, + with a hay-loft over it, the straw and hay dangling in tufts through the + boards which formed the ceiling of the room, and the floor of the loft. + From this room, which is paved like a street, sometimes one, sometimes two + smaller ones, are enclosed at one end. These are commonly floored. In the + large room the cattle, pigs, poultry, men, women, and children, live in + amicable community; yet there was an appearance of cleanliness and rustic + comfort. One of these houses I measured. It was an hundred feet in length. + The apartments were taken off from one corner. Between these and the + stalls there was a small interspace, and here the breadth was forty-eight + feet, but thirty-two where the stalls were; of course, the stalls were on + each side eight feet in depth. The faces of the cows, etc. were turned + towards the room; indeed they were in it, so that they had at least the + comfort of seeing each other’s faces. Stall-feeding is universal in this + part of Germany, a practice concerning which the agriculturist and the + poet are likely to entertain opposite opinions—or at least, to have + very different feelings. The woodwork of these buildings on the outside is + left unplastered, as in old houses among us, and, being painted red and + green, it cuts and tesselates the buildings very gaily. From within three + miles of Hamburg almost to Molln, which is thirty miles from it, the + country, as far as I could see it, was a dead flat, only varied by woods. + At Molln it became more beautiful. I observed a small lake nearly + surrounded with groves, and a palace in view belonging to the King of + Great Britain, and inhabited by the Inspector of the Forests. We were + nearly the same time in travelling the thirty-five miles from Hamburg to + Ratzeburg, as we had been in going from London to Yarmouth, one hundred + and twenty-six miles. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + The lake of Ratzeburg runs from south to north, about nine miles in + length, and varying in breadth from three miles to half a mile. About a + mile from the southernmost point it is divided into two, of course very + unequal, parts by an island, which, being connected by a bridge and a + narrow slip of land with the one shore, and by another bridge of immense + length with the other shore, forms a complete isthmus. On this island the + town of Ratzeburg is built. The pastor’s house or vicarage, together with + the Amtmann’s Amtsschreiber’s, and the church, stands near the summit of a + hill, which slopes down to the slip of land and the little bridge, from + which, through a superb military gate, you step into the island-town of + Ratzeburg. This again is itself a little hill, by ascending and descending + which, you arrive at the long bridge, and so to the other shore. The water + to the south of the town is called the Little Lake, which however almost + engrosses the beauties of the whole the shores being just often enough + green and bare to give the proper effect to the magnificent groves which + occupy the greater part of their circumference. From the turnings, + windings, and indentations of the shore, the views vary almost every ten + steps, and the whole has a sort of majestic beauty, a feminine grandeur. + At the north of the Great Lake, and peeping over it, I see the seven + church towers of Luebec, at the distance of twelve or thirteen miles, yet + as distinctly as if they were not three. The only defect in the view is, + that Ratzeburg is built entirely of red bricks, and all the houses roofed + with red tiles. To the eye, therefore, it presents a clump of brick-dust + red. Yet this evening, Oct. 10th, twenty minutes past five, I saw the town + perfectly beautiful, and the whole softened down into complete keeping, if + I may borrow a term from the painters. The sky over Ratzeburg and all the + east was a pure evening blue, while over the west it was covered with + light sandy clouds. Hence a deep red light spread over the whole prospect, + in undisturbed harmony with the red town, the brown-red woods, and the + yellow-red reeds on the skirts of the lake. Two or three boats, with + single persons paddling them, floated up and down in the rich light, which + not only was itself in harmony with all, but brought all into harmony. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + I should have told you that I went back to Hamburg on Thursday (Sept. + 27th) to take leave of my friend, who travels southward, and returned + hither on the Monday following. From Empfelde, a village half way from + Ratzeburg, I walked to Hamburg through deep sandy roads and a dreary flat: + the soil everywhere white, hungry, and excessively pulverised; but the + approach to the city is pleasing. Light cool country houses, which you can + look through and see the gardens behind them, with arbours and trellis + work, and thick vegetable walls, and trees in cloisters and piazzas, each + house with neat rails before it, and green seats within the rails. Every + object, whether the growth of nature or the work of man, was neat and + artificial. It pleased me far better, than if the houses and gardens, and + pleasure fields, had been in a nobler taste: for this nobler taste would + have been mere apery. The busy, anxious, money-loving merchant of Hamburg + could only have adopted, he could not have enjoyed the simplicity of + nature. The mind begins to love nature by imitating human conveniences in + nature; but this is a step in intellect, though a low one—and were + it not so, yet all around me spoke of innocent enjoyment and sensitive + comforts, and I entered with unscrupulous sympathy into the enjoyments and + comforts even of the busy, anxious, money-loving merchants of Hamburg. In + this charitable and catholic mood I reached the vast ramparts of the city. + These are huge green cushions, one rising above the other, with trees + growing in the interspaces, pledges and symbols of a long peace. Of my + return I have nothing worth communicating, except that I took extra post, + which answers to posting in England. These north German post chaises are + uncovered wicker carts. An English dust-cart is a piece of finery, a chef + d’auvre of mechanism, compared with them and the horses!—a savage + might use their ribs instead of his fingers for a numeration table. + Wherever we stopped, the postilion fed his cattle with the brown rye bread + of which he eat himself, all breakfasting together; only the horses had no + gin to their water, and the postilion no water to his gin. Now and + henceforward for subjects of more interest to you, and to the objects in + search of which I left you: namely, the literati and literature of + Germany. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Believe me, I walked with an impression of awe on my spirits, as W——and + myself accompanied Mr. Klopstock to the house of his brother, the poet, + which stands about a quarter of a mile from the city gate. It is one of a + row of little common-place summer-houses, (for so they looked,) with four + or five rows of young meagre elm trees before the windows, beyond which is + a green, and then a dead flat intersected with several roads. Whatever + beauty, (thought I,) may be before the poet’s eyes at present, it must + certainly be purely of his own creation. We waited a few minutes in a neat + little parlour, ornamented with the figures of two of the Muses and with + prints, the subjects of which were from Klopstock’s odes. The poet + entered. I was much disappointed in his countenance, and recognised in it + no likeness to the bust. There was no comprehension in the forehead, no + weight over the eye-brows, no expression of peculiarity, moral or + intellectual, on the eyes, no massiveness in the general countenance. He + is, if anything, rather below the middle size. He wore very large + half-boots, which his legs filled, so fearfully were they swollen. + However, though neither W—— nor myself could discover any + indications of sublimity or enthusiasm in his physiognomy, we were both + equally impressed with his liveliness, and his kind and ready courtesy. He + talked in French with my friend, and with difficulty spoke a few sentences + to me in English. His enunciation was not in the least affected by the + entire want of his upper teeth. The conversation began on his part by the + expression of his rapture at the surrender of the detachment of French + troops under General Humbert. Their proceedings in Ireland with regard to + the committee which they had appointed, with the rest of their organizing + system, seemed to have given the poet great entertainment. He then + declared his sanguine belief in Nelson’s victory, and anticipated its + confirmation with a keen and triumphant pleasure. His words, tones, looks, + implied the most vehement Anti-Gallicanism. The subject changed to + literature, and I inquired in Latin concerning the history of German + poetry and the elder German poets. To my great astonishment he confessed, + that he knew very little on the subject. He had indeed occasionally read + one or two of their elder writers, but not so as to enable him to speak of + their merits. Professor Ebeling, he said, would probably give me every + information of this kind: the subject had not particularly excited his + curiosity. He then talked of Milton and Glover, and thought Glover’s blank + verse superior to Milton’s. W—— and myself expressed our + surprise: and my friend gave his definition and notion of harmonious + verse, that it consisted, (the English iambic blank verse above all,) in + the apt arrangement of pauses and cadences, and the sweep of whole + paragraphs, + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “with many a winding bout<br> + Of linked sweetness long drawn out,” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + and not in the even flow, much less in the prominence of antithetic + vigour, of single lines, which were indeed injurious to the total effect, + except where they were introduced for some specific purpose. Klopstock + assented, and said that he meant to confine Glover’s superiority to single + lines. He told us that he had read Milton, in a prose translation, when he + was fourteen <a href="#linknote-77" id="linknoteref-77">[77]</a>. I understood him thus +myself, and W---- interpreted Klopstock’s French as I had already +construed it. He appeared to know very little of Milton or indeed of our +poets in general. He spoke with great indignation of the English prose +translation of his MESSIAH. All the translations had been bad, very +bad--but the English was no translation--there were pages on pages +not in the original--and half the original was not to be found in the +translation. W---- told him that I intended to translate a few of his +odes as specimens of German lyrics--he then said to me in English, “I +wish you would render into English some select passages of THE MESSIAH, +and revenge me of your countryman!”. It was the liveliest thing which he +produced in the whole conversation. He told us, that his first ode was +fifty years older than his last. I looked at him with much emotion--I +considered him as the venerable father of German poetry; as a good man; +as a Christian; seventy-four years old; with legs enormously swollen; +yet active, lively, cheerful, and kind, and communicative. My eyes felt +as if a tear were swelling into them. In the portrait of Lessing +there was a toupee periwig, which enormously injured the effect of his +physiognomy--Klopstock wore the same, powdered and frizzled. By the +bye, old men ought never to wear powder--the contrast between a large +snow-white wig and the colour of an old man’s skin is disgusting, and +wrinkles in such a neighbourhood appear only channels for dirt. It is +an honour to poets and great men, that you think of them as parts of +nature; and anything of trick and fashion wounds you in them, as much as +when you see venerable yews clipped into miserable peacocks.--The author +of THE MESSIAH should have worn his own grey hair.--His powder and +periwig were to the eye what Mr. Virgil would be to the ear. +</p><p> +Klopstock dwelt much on the superior power which the German language +possessed of concentrating meaning. He said, he had often translated +parts of Homer and Virgil, line by line, and a German line proved always +sufficient for a Greek or Latin one. In English you cannot do this. I +answered, that in English we could commonly render one Greek heroic line +in a line and a half of our common heroic metre, and I conjectured that +this line and a half would be found to contain no more syllables than +one German or Greek hexameter. He did not understand me <a href="#linknote-78" id="linknoteref-78">[78]</a>: and I, who wished to + hear his opinions, not to correct them, was glad that he did not. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + We now took our leave. At the beginning of the French Revolution Klopstock + wrote odes of congratulation. He received some honorary presents from the + French Republic, (a golden crown I believe), and, like our Priestley, was + invited to a seat in the legislature, which he declined. But when French + liberty metamorphosed herself into a fury, he sent back these presents + with a palinodia, declaring his abhorrence of their proceedings: and since + then he has been perhaps more than enough an Anti-Gallican. I mean, that + in his just contempt and detestation of the crimes and follies of the + Revolutionists, he suffers himself to forget that the revolution itself is + a process of the Divine Providence; and that as the folly of men is the + wisdom of God, so are their iniquities instruments of his goodness. From + Klopstock’s house we walked to the ramparts, discoursing together on the + poet and his conversation, till our attention was diverted to the beauty + and singularity of the sunset and its effects on the objects around us. + There were woods in the distance. A rich sandy light, (nay, of a much + deeper colour than sandy,) lay over these woods that blackened in the + blaze. Over that part of the woods which lay immediately under the + intenser light, a brassy mist floated. The trees on the ramparts, and the + people moving to and fro between them, were cut or divided into equal + segments of deep shade and brassy light. Had the trees, and the bodies of + the men and women, been divided into equal segments by a rule or pair of + compasses, the portions could not have been more regular. All else was + obscure. It was a fairy scene!—and to increase its romantic + character, among the moving objects, thus divided into alternate shade and + brightness, was a beautiful child, dressed with the elegant simplicity of + an English child, riding on a stately goat, the saddle, bridle, and other + accoutrements of which were in a high degree costly and splendid. Before I + quit the subject of Hamburg, let me say, that I remained a day or two + longer than I otherwise should have done, in order to be present at the + feast of St. Michael, the patron saint of Hamburg, expecting to see the + civic pomp of this commercial Republic. I was however disappointed. There + were no processions, two or three sermons were preached to two or three + old women in two or three churches, and St. Michael and his patronage + wished elsewhere by the higher classes, all places of entertainment, + theatre, etc. being shut up on this day. In Hamburg, there seems to be no + religion at all; in Luebec it is confined to the women. The men seemed + determined to be divorced from their wives in the other world, if they + cannot in this. You will not easily conceive a more singular sight, than + is presented by the vast aisle of the principal church at Luebec, seen + from the organ loft: for being filled with female servants and persons in + the same class of life, and all their caps having gold and silver cauls, + it appears like a rich pavement of gold and silver. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + I will conclude this letter with the mere transcription of notes, which my + friend W—— made of his conversations with Klopstock, during + the interviews that took place after my departure. On these I shall make + but one remark at present, and that will appear a presumptuous one, + namely, that Klopstock’s remarks on the venerable sage of Koenigsburg are + to my own knowledge injurious and mistaken; and so far is it from being + true, that his system is now given up, that throughout the Universities of + Germany there is not a single professor who is not either a Kantean or a + disciple of Fichte, whose system is built on the Kantean, and presupposes + its truth; or lastly who, though an antagonist of Kant, as to his + theoretical work, has not embraced wholly or in part his moral system, and + adopted part of his nomenclature. “Klopstock having wished to see the + CALVARY of Cumberland, and asked what was thought of it in England, I went + to Remnant’s (the English bookseller) where I procured the Analytical + Review, in which is contained the review of Cumberland’s CALVARY. I + remembered to have read there some specimens of a blank verse translation + of THE MESSIAH. I had mentioned this to Klopstock, and he had a great + desire to see them. I walked over to his house and put the book into his + hands. On adverting to his own poem, he told me he began THE MESSIAH when + he was seventeen; he devoted three entire years to the plan without + composing a single line. He was greatly at a loss in what manner to + execute his work. There were no successful specimens of versification in + the German language before this time. The first three cantos he wrote in a + species of measured or numerous prose. This, though done with much labour + and some success, was far from satisfying him. He had composed hexameters + both Latin and Greek as a school exercise, and there had been also in the + German language attempts in that style of versification. These were only + of very moderate merit.—One day he was struck with the idea of what + could be done in this way—he kept his room a whole day, even went + without his dinner, and found that in the evening he had written + twenty-three hexameters, versifying a part of what he had before written + in prose. From that time, pleased with his efforts, he composed no more in + prose. Today he informed me that he had finished his plan before he read + Milton. He was enchanted to see an author who before him had trod the same + path. This is a contradiction of what he said before. He did not wish to + speak of his poem to any one till it was finished: but some of his friends + who had seen what he had finished, tormented him till he had consented to + publish a few books in a journal. He was then, I believe, very young, + about twenty-five. The rest was printed at different periods, four books + at a time. The reception given to the first specimens was highly + flattering. He was nearly thirty years in finishing the whole poem, but of + these thirty years not more than two were employed in the composition. He + only composed in favourable moments; besides he had other occupations. He + values himself upon the plan of his odes, and accuses the modern lyrical + writers of gross deficiency in this respect. I laid the same accusation + against Horace: he would not hear of it—but waived the discussion. + He called Rousseau’s ODE TO FORTUNE a moral dissertation in stanzas. I + spoke of Dryden’s ST. CECILIA; but he did not seem familiar with our + writers. He wished to know the distinctions between our dramatic and epic + blank verse. He recommended me to read his HERMANN before I read either + THE MESSIAH or the odes. He flattered himself that some time or other his + dramatic poems would be known in England. He had not heard of Cowper. He + thought that Voss in his translation of THE ILIAD had done violence to the + idiom of the Germans, and had sacrificed it to the Greeks, not remembering + sufficiently that each language has its particular spirit and genius. He + said Lessing was the first of their dramatic writers. I complained of + NATHAN as tedious. He said there was not enough of action in it; but that + Lessing was the most chaste of their writers. He spoke favourably of + Goethe; but said that his SORROWS OF WERTER was his best work, better than + any of his dramas: he preferred the first written to the rest of Goethe’s + dramas. Schiller’s ROBBERS he found so extravagant, that he could not read + it. I spoke of the scene of the setting sun. He did not know it. He said + Schiller could not live. He thought DON CARLOS the best of his dramas; but + said that the plot was inextricable.—It was evident he knew little + of Schiller’s works: indeed, he said, he could not read them. Buerger, he + said, was a true poet, and would live; that Schiller, on the contrary, + must soon be forgotten; that he gave himself up to the imitation of + Shakespeare, who often was extravagant, but that Schiller was ten thousand + times more so. He spoke very slightingly of Kotzebue, as an immoral author + in the first place, and next, as deficient in power. At Vienna, said he, + they are transported with him; but we do not reckon the people of Vienna + either the wisest or the wittiest people of Germany. He said Wieland was a + charming author, and a sovereign master of his own language: that in this + respect Goethe could not be compared to him, nor indeed could any body + else. He said that his fault was to be fertile to exuberance. I told him + the OBERON had just been translated into English. He asked me if I was not + delighted with the poem. I answered, that I thought the story began to + flag about the seventh or eighth book; and observed, that it was unworthy + of a man of genius to make the interest of a long poem turn entirely upon + animal gratification. He seemed at first disposed to excuse this by + saying, that there are different subjects for poetry, and that poets are + not willing to be restricted in their choice. I answered, that I thought + the passion of love as well suited to the purposes of poetry as any other + passion; but that it was a cheap way of pleasing to fix the attention of + the reader through a long poem on the mere appetite. Well! but, said he, + you see, that such poems please every body. I answered, that it was the + province of a great poet to raise people up to his own level, not to + descend to theirs. He agreed, and confessed, that on no account whatsoever + would he have written a work like the OBERON. He spoke in raptures of + Wieland’s style, and pointed out the passage where Retzia is delivered of + her child, as exquisitely beautiful. I said that I did not perceive any + very striking passages; but that I made allowance for the imperfections of + a translation. Of the thefts of Wieland, he said, they were so exquisitely + managed, that the greatest writers might be proud to steal as he did. He + considered the books and fables of old romance writers in the light of the + ancient mythology, as a sort of common property, from which a man was free + to take whatever he could make a good use of. An Englishman had presented + him with the odes of Collins, which he had read with pleasure. He knew + little or nothing of Gray, except his ELEGY written in a country + CHURCH-YARD. He complained of the fool in LEAR. I observed that he seemed + to give a terrible wildness to the distress; but still he complained. He + asked whether it was not allowed, that Pope had written rhymed poetry with + more skill than any of our writers—I said I preferred Dryden, + because his couplets had greater variety in their movement. He thought my + reason a good one; but asked whether the rhyme of Pope were not more + exact. This question I understood as applying to the final terminations, + and observed to him that I believed it was the case; but that I thought it + was easy to excuse some inaccuracy in the final sounds, if the general + sweep of the verse was superior. I told him that we were not so exact with + regard to the final endings of the lines as the French. He did not seem to + know that we made no distinction between masculine and feminine (i.e. + single or double,) rhymes: at least he put inquiries to me on this + subject. He seemed to think that no language could be so far formed as + that it might not be enriched by idioms borrowed from another tongue. I + said this was a very dangerous practice; and added, that I thought Milton + had often injured both his prose and verse by taking this liberty too + frequently. I recommended to him the prose works of Dryden as models of + pure and native English. I was treading upon tender ground, as I have + reason to suppose that he has himself liberally indulged in the practice.” + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + The same day I dined at Mr. Klopstock’s, where I had the pleasure of a + third interview with the poet. We talked principally about indifferent + things. I asked him what he thought of Kant. He said that his reputation + was much on the decline in Germany. That for his own part he was not + surprised to find it so, as the works of Kant were to him utterly + incomprehensible—that he had often been pestered by the Kanteans; + but was rarely in the practice of arguing with them. His custom was to + produce the book, open it and point to a passage, and beg they would + explain it. This they ordinarily attempted to do by substituting their own + ideas. I do not want, I say, an explanation of your own ideas, but of the + passage which is before us. In this way I generally bring the dispute to + an immediate conclusion. He spoke of Wolfe as the first Metaphysician they + had in Germany. Wolfe had followers; but they could hardly be called a + sect, and luckily till the appearance of Kant, about fifteen years ago, + Germany had not been pestered by any sect of philosophers whatsoever; but + that each man had separately pursued his inquiries uncontrolled by the + dogmas of a master. Kant had appeared ambitious to be the founder of a + sect; that he had succeeded: but that the Germans were now coming to their + senses again. That Nicolai and Engel had in different ways contributed to + disenchant the nation; but above all the incomprehensibility of the + philosopher and his philosophy. He seemed pleased to hear, that as yet + Kant’s doctrines had not met with many admirers in England—did not + doubt but that we had too much wisdom to be duped by a writer who set at + defiance the common sense and common understandings of men. We talked of + tragedy. He seemed to rate highly the power of exciting tears—I said + that nothing was more easy than to deluge an audience, that it was done + every day by the meanest writers. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + I must remind you, my friend, first, that these notes are not intended as + specimens of Klopstock’s intellectual power, or even “colloquial prowess,” + to judge of which by an accidental conversation, and this with strangers, + and those too foreigners, would be not only unreasonable, but calumnious. + Secondly, I attribute little other interest to the remarks than what is + derived from the celebrity of the person who made them. Lastly, if you ask + me, whether I have read THE MESSIAH, and what I think of it? I answer—as + yet the first four books only: and as to my opinion—(the reasons of + which hereafter)—you may guess it from what I could not help + muttering to myself, when the good pastor this morning told me, that + Klopstock was the German Milton—“a very German Milton indeed!!!” + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Heaven preserve you, and S. T. COLERIDGE. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <p> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIII + </h2> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Quid quod praefatione praemunierim libellum, qua conor omnem offendiculi + ansam praecidere? <a href="#linknote-79" id="linknoteref-79">[79]</a> Neque quicquam addubito, quin ea candidis omnibus +faciat satis. Quid autem facias istis, qui vel ob ingenii pertinaciam +sibi satisfieri nolint, vel stupidiores sint, quam ut satisfactionem +intelligant? Nam quemadmodum Simonides dixit, Thessalos hebetiores esse, +quam ut possint a se decipi, ita quosdam videas stupidiores, quam ut +placari queant. Adhaec, non mirum est invenire quod calumnietur, +qui nihil aliud quaerit, nisi quod calumnietur. ERASMUS ad Dorpium, +Theologum. + </p> + <p> + +In the rifacimento of THE FRIEND, I have inserted extracts from the +CONCIONES AD POPULUM, printed, though scarcely published, in the year +1795, in the very heat and height of my anti-ministerial enthusiasm: +these in proof that my principles of politics have sustained no +change.--In the present chapter, I have annexed to my Letters +from Germany, with particular reference to that, which contains a +disquisition on the modern drama, a critique on the Tragedy of BERTRAM, +written within the last twelve months: in proof, that I have been as +falsely charged with any fickleness in my principles of taste.--The +letter was written to a friend: and the apparent abruptness with which +it begins, is owing to the omission of the introductory sentences. + </p> + <p> +You remember, my dear Sir, that Mr. Whitbread, shortly before his death, +proposed to the assembled subscribers of Drury Lane Theatre, that the +concern should be farmed to some responsible individual under certain +conditions and limitations: and that his proposal was rejected, +not without indignation, as subversive of the main object, for the +attainment of which the enlightened and patriotic assemblage of +philodramatists had been induced to risk their subscriptions. Now this +object was avowed to be no less than the redemption of the British stage +not only from horses, dogs, elephants, and the like zoological rarities, +but also from the more pernicious barbarisms and Kotzebuisms in morals +and taste. Drury Lane was to be restored to its former classical renown; +Shakespeare, Jonson, and Otway, with the expurgated muses of Vanbrugh, +Congreve, and Wycherley, were to be reinaugurated in their rightful +dominion over British audiences; and the Herculean process was to +commence, by exterminating the speaking monsters imported from the banks +of the Danube, compared with which their mute relations, the emigrants +from Exeter ’Change, and Polito (late Pidcock’s) show-carts, were tame +and inoffensive. Could an heroic project, at once so refined and so +arduous, be consistently entrusted to, could its success be rationally +expected from, a mercenary manager, at whose critical quarantine the +lucri bonus odor would conciliate a bill of health to the plague in +person? No! As the work proposed, such must be the work-masters. Rank, +fortune, liberal education, and (their natural accompaniments, or +consequences) critical discernment, delicate tact, disinterestedness, +unsuspected morals, notorious patriotism, and tried Maecenasship, these +were the recommendations that influenced the votes of the proprietary +subscribers of Drury Lane Theatre, these the motives that occasioned the +election of its Supreme Committee of Management. This circumstance alone +would have excited a strong interest in the public mind, respecting the +first production of the Tragic Muse which had been announced under such +auspices, and had passed the ordeal of such judgments: and the tragedy, +on which you have requested my judgment, was the work on which the great +expectations, justified by so many causes, were doomed at length to +settle. + </p> + <p> +But before I enter on the examination of BERTRAM, or THE CASTLE OF ST. +ALDOBRAND, I shall interpose a few words, on the phrase German Drama, +which I hold to be altogether a misnomer. At the time of Lessing, the +German stage, such as it was, appears to have been a flat and servile +copy of the French. It was Lessing who first introduced the name and the +works of Shakespeare to the admiration of the Germans; and I should not +perhaps go too far, if I add, that it was Lessing who first proved to +all thinking men, even to Shakespeare’s own countrymen, the true nature +of his apparent irregularities. These, he demonstrated, were deviations +only from the accidents of the Greek tragedy; and from such accidents as +hung a heavy weight on the wings of the Greek poets, and narrowed +their flight within the limits of what we may call the heroic opera. He +proved, that, in all the essentials of art, no less than in the truth of +nature, the Plays of Shakespeare were incomparably more coincident +with the principles of Aristotle, than the productions of Corneille +and Racine, notwithstanding the boasted regularity of the latter. Under +these convictions were Lessing’s own dramatic works composed. Their +deficiency is in depth and imagination: their excellence is in the +construction of the plot; the good sense of the sentiments; the sobriety +of the morals; and the high polish of the diction and dialogue. In +short, his dramas are the very antipodes of all those which it has been +the fashion of late years at once to abuse and enjoy, under the name of +the German drama. Of this latter, Schiller’s ROBBERS was the earliest +specimen; the first fruits of his youth, (I had almost said of his +boyhood), and as such, the pledge, and promise of no ordinary genius. +Only as such, did the maturer judgment of the author tolerate the Play. +During his whole life he expressed himself concerning this production +with more than needful asperity, as a monster not less offensive to good +taste, than to sound morals; and, in his latter years, his indignation +at the unwonted popularity of the ROBBERS seduced him into the contrary +extremes, viz. a studied feebleness of interest, (as far as the interest +was to be derived from incidents and the excitement of curiosity); +a diction elaborately metrical; the affectation of rhymes; and the +pedantry of the chorus. + </p> + <p> +But to understand the true character of the ROBBERS, and of the +countless imitations which were its spawn, I must inform you, or at +least call to your recollection, that, about that time, and for some +years before it, three of the most popular books in the German language +were, the translations Of YOUNG’S NIGHT THOUGHTS, HERVEY’S MEDITATIONS, +and RICHARDSON’S CLARISSA HARLOW. Now we have only to combine the +bloated style and peculiar rhythm of Hervey, which is poetic only on +account of its utter unfitness for prose, and might as appropriately +be called prosaic, from its utter unfitness for poetry; we have only, +I repeat, to combine these Herveyisms with the strained thoughts, the +figurative metaphysics and solemn epigrams of Young on the one hand; and +with the loaded sensibility, the minute detail, the morbid consciousness +of every thought and feeling in the whole flux and reflux of the mind, +in short the self-involution and dreamlike continuity of Richardson on +the other hand; and then to add the horrific incidents, and mysterious +villains, (geniuses of supernatural intellect, if you will take the +authors’ words for it, but on a level with the meanest ruffians of +the condemned cells, if we are to judge by their actions and +contrivances)--to add the ruined castles, the dungeons, the trap-doors, +the skeletons, the flesh-and-blood ghosts, and the perpetual moonshine +of a modern author, (themselves the literary brood of the CASTLE OF +OTRANTO, the translations of which, with the imitations and improvements +aforesaid, were about that time beginning to make as much noise in +Germany as their originals were making in England),--and as the compound +of these ingredients duly mixed, you will recognize the so-called German +drama. The olla podrida thus cooked up, was denounced, by the best +critics in Germany, as the mere cramps of weakness, and orgasms of a +sickly imagination on the part of the author, and the lowest provocation +of torpid feeling on that of the readers. The old blunder, however, +concerning the irregularity and wildness of Shakespeare, in which the +German did but echo the French, who again were but the echoes of our own +critics, was still in vogue, and Shakespeare was quoted as authority for +the most anti-Shakespearean drama. We have indeed two poets who wrote as +one, near the age of Shakespeare, to whom, (as the worst characteristic +of their writings), the Coryphaeus of the present drama may challenge +the honour of being a poor relation, or impoverished descendant. For +if we would charitably consent to forget the comic humour, the wit, the +felicities of style, in other words, all the poetry, and nine-tenths of +all the genius of Beaumont and Fletcher, that which would remain becomes +a Kotzebue. + </p> + <p> +The so-called German drama, therefore, is English in its origin, English +in its materials, and English by re-adoption; and till we can prove that +Kotzebue, or any of the whole breed of Kotzebues, whether dramatists or +romantic writers, or writers of romantic dramas, were ever admitted +to any other shelf in the libraries of well-educated Germans than were +occupied by their originals, and apes’ apes in their mother country, +we should submit to carry our own brat on our own shoulders; or rather +consider it as a lack-grace returned from transportation with such +improvements only in growth and manners as young transported convicts +usually come home with. + </p> + <p> +I know nothing that contributes more to a clearer insight into the true +nature of any literary phaenomenon, than the comparison of it with some +elder production, the likeness of which is striking, yet only apparent, +while the difference is real. In the present case this opportunity is +furnished us, by the old Spanish play, entitled Atheista Fulminato, +formerly, and perhaps still, acted in the churches and monasteries of +Spain, and which, under various names (Don Juan, the Libertine, +etc.) has had its day of favour in every country throughout Europe. A +popularity so extensive, and of a work so grotesque and extravagant, +claims and merits philosophical attention and investigation. The first +point to be noticed is, that the play is throughout imaginative. +Nothing of it belongs to the real world, but the names of the places and +persons. The comic parts, equally with the tragic; the living, equally +with the defunct characters, are creatures of the brain; as little +amenable to the rules of ordinary probability, as the Satan Of PARADISE +LOST, or the Caliban of THE TEMPEST, and therefore to be understood +and judged of as impersonated abstractions. Rank, fortune, wit, talent, +acquired knowledge, and liberal accomplishments, with beauty of person, +vigorous health, and constitutional hardihood,--all these advantages, +elevated by the habits and sympathies of noble birth and national +character, are supposed to have combined in Don Juan, so as to give him +the means of carrying into all its practical consequences the doctrine +of a godless nature, as the sole ground and efficient cause not only of +all things, events, and appearances, but likewise of all our thoughts, +sensations, impulses and actions. Obedience to nature is the only +virtue: the gratification of the passions and appetites her only +dictate: each individual’s self-will the sole organ through which nature +utters her commands, and </p> + <p class="pre"> + + “Self-contradiction is the only wrong!<br> + For, by the laws of spirit, in the right<br> + Is every individual character<br> + That acts in strict consistence with itself.” + + </p> + <p> +That speculative opinions, however impious and daring they may be, are +not always followed by correspondent conduct, is most true, as well as +that they can scarcely in any instance be systematically realized, on +account of their unsuitableness to human nature and to the institutions +of society. It can be hell, only where it is all hell: and a separate +world of devils is necessary for the existence of any one complete +devil. But on the other hand it is no less clear, nor, with the +biography of Carrier and his fellow atheists before us, can it be denied +without wilful blindness, that the (so called) system of nature (that +is, materialism, with the utter rejection of moral responsibility, of +a present Providence, and of both present and future retribution) +may influence the characters and actions of individuals, and even of +communities, to a degree that almost does away the distinction between +men and devils, and will make the page of the future historian resemble +the narration of a madman’s dreams. It is not the wickedness of Don +Juan, therefore, which constitutes the character an abstraction, and +removes it from the rules of probability; but the rapid succession of +the correspondent acts and incidents, his intellectual superiority, +and the splendid accumulation of his gifts and desirable qualities, as +co-existent with entire wickedness in one and the same person. But this +likewise is the very circumstance which gives to this strange play its +charm and universal interest. Don Juan is, from beginning to end, an +intelligible character: as much so as the Satan of Milton. The poet asks +only of the reader, what, as a poet, he is privileged to ask: namely, +that sort of negative faith in the existence of such a being, which we +willingly give to productions professedly ideal, and a disposition +to the same state of feeling, as that with which we contemplate the +idealized figures of the Apollo Belvidere, and the Farnese Hercules. +What the Hercules is to the eye in corporeal strength, Don Juan is +to the mind in strength of character. The ideal consists in the happy +balance of the generic with the individual. The former makes the +character representative and symbolical, therefore instructive; because, +mutatis mutandis, it is applicable to whole classes of men. The latter +gives it living interest; for nothing lives or is real, but as definite +and individual. To understand this completely, the reader need only +recollect the specific state of his feelings, when in looking at a +picture of the historic (more properly of the poetic or heroic) class, +he objects to a particular figure as being too much of a portrait; +and this interruption of his complacency he feels without the least +reference to, or the least acquaintance with, any person in real life +whom he might recognise in this figure. It is enough that such a figure +is not ideal: and therefore not ideal, because one of the two factors +or elements of the ideal is in excess. A similar and more powerful +objection he would feel towards a set of figures which were mere +abstractions, like those of Cipriani, and what have been called Greek +forms and faces, that is, outlines drawn according to a recipe. These +again are not ideal; because in these the other element is in excess. +“Forma formans per formam formatam translucens,” <a href="#linknote-80" id="linknoteref-80">[80]</a> is + the definition and perfection of ideal art. + </p> + <p> + This excellence is so happily achieved in the Don Juan, that it is capable + of interesting without poetry, nay, even without words, as in our + pantomime of that name. We see clearly how the character is formed; and + the very extravagance of the incidents, and the super-human entireness of + Don Juan’s agency, prevents the wickedness from shocking our minds to any + painful degree. We do not believe it enough for this effect; no, not even + with that kind of temporary and negative belief or acquiescence which I + have described above. Meantime the qualities of his character are too + desirable, too flattering to our pride and our wishes, not to make up on + this side as much additional faith as was lost on the other. There is no + danger (thinks the spectator or reader) of my becoming such a monster of + iniquity as Don Juan! I never shall be an atheist! I shall never disallow + all distinction between right and wrong! I have not the least inclination + to be so outrageous a drawcansir in my love affairs! But to possess such a + power of captivating and enchanting the affections of the other sex!—to + be capable of inspiring in a charming and even a virtuous woman, a love so + deep, and so entirely personal to me!—that even my worst vices, (if + I were vicious), even my cruelty and perfidy, (if I were cruel and + perfidious), could not eradicate the passion!—to be so loved for my + own self, that even with a distinct knowledge of my character, she yet + died to save me!—this, sir, takes hold of two sides of our nature, + the better and the worse. For the heroic disinterestedness, to which love + can transport a woman, can not be contemplated without an honourable + emotion of reverence towards womanhood: and, on the other hand, it is + among the miseries, and abides in the dark ground-work of our nature, to + crave an outward confirmation of that something within us, which is our + very self, that something, not made up of our qualities and relations, but + itself the supporter and substantial basis of all these. Love me, and not + my qualities, may be a vicious and an insane wish, but it is not a wish + wholly without a meaning. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Without power, virtue would be insufficient and incapable of revealing its + being. It would resemble the magic transformation of Tasso’s heroine into + a tree, in which she could only groan and bleed. Hence power is + necessarily an object of our desire and of our admiration. But of all + power, that of the mind is, on every account, the grand desideratum of + human ambition. We shall be as Gods in knowledge, was and must have been + the first temptation: and the coexistence of great intellectual lordship + with guilt has never been adequately represented without exciting the + strongest interest, and for this reason, that in this bad and + heterogeneous co-ordination we can contemplate the intellect of man more + exclusively as a separate self-subsistence, than in its proper state of + subordination to his own conscience, or to the will of an infinitely + superior being. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + This is the sacred charm of Shakespeare’s male characters in general. They + are all cast in the mould of Shakespeare’s own gigantic intellect; and + this is the open attraction of his Richard, Iago, Edmund, and others in + particular. But again; of all intellectual power, that of superiority to + the fear of the invisible world is the most dazzling. Its influence is + abundantly proved by the one circumstance, that it can bribe us into a + voluntary submission of our better knowledge, into suspension of all our + judgment derived from constant experience, and enable us to peruse with + the liveliest interest the wildest tales of ghosts, wizards, genii, and + secret talismans. On this propensity, so deeply rooted in our nature, a + specific dramatic probability may be raised by a true poet, if the whole + of his work be in harmony: a dramatic probability, sufficient for dramatic + pleasure, even when the component characters and incidents border on + impossibility. The poet does not require us to be awake and believe; he + solicits us only to yield ourselves to a dream; and this too with our eyes + open, and with our judgment perdue behind the curtain, ready to awaken us + at the first motion of our will: and meantime, only, not to disbelieve. + And in such a state of mind, who but must be impressed with the cool + intrepidity of Don john on the appearance of his father’s ghost: + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “GHOST.—Monster! behold these wounds!<br> +<br> + “D. JOHN.—I do! They were well meant and well performed, I see.<br> +<br> + “GHOST.———Repent, repent of all thy villanies.<br> + My clamorous blood to heaven for vengeance cries,<br> + Heaven will pour out his judgments on you all.<br> + Hell gapes for you, for you each fiend doth call,<br> + And hourly waits your unrepenting fall.<br> + You with eternal horrors they’ll torment,<br> + Except of all your crimes you suddenly repent. (Ghost sinks.)<br> +<br> + “D. JOHN.—Farewell, thou art a foolish ghost. Repent, quoth he!<br> + what could this mean? Our senses are all in a mist sure.<br> +<br> + “D. ANTONIO.—(one of D. Juan’s reprobate companions.) They are not!<br> + ’Twas a ghost.<br> +<br> + “D. LOPEZ.—(another reprobate.) I ne’er believed those foolish tales<br> + before.<br> +<br> + “D. JOHN.—Come! ’Tis no matter. Let it be what it will, it must be<br> + natural.<br> +<br> + “D. ANT.—And nature is unalterable in us too.<br> +<br> + “D. JOHN.—’Tis true! The nature of a ghost can not change our’s.”<br> +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Who also can deny a portion of sublimity to the tremendous consistency + with which he stands out the last fearful trial, like a second Prometheus? + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “Chorus of Devils.<br> +<br> +“STATUE-GHOST.—Will you not relent and feel remorse?<br> +<br> + “D. JOHN.—Could’st thou bestow another heart on me I might. But<br> + with this heart I have, I can not.<br> +<br> +“D. LOPEZ.—These things are prodigious.<br> +<br> + “D. ANTON.—I have a sort of grudging to relent, but something holds<br> + me back.<br> +<br> +“D. LOP.—If we could, ’tis now too late. I will not.<br> +<br> + “D. ANT.—We defy thee!<br> +<br> +“GHOST.—Perish ye impious wretches, go and find the punishments laid<br> + up in store for you!<br> +<br> + (Thunder and lightning. D. Lop. and D. Ant. are swallowed up.)<br> +<br> + “GHOST To D. JOHN.—Behold their dreadful fates, and know that thy<br> + last moment’s come!<br> +<br> +“D. JOHN.—Think not to fright me, foolish ghost; I’ll break your<br> + marble body in pieces and pull down your horse.<br> + (Thunder and lightning—chorus of devils, etc.)<br><br> + + “D. JOHN.—These things I see with wonder, but no fear.<br> + Were all the elements to be confounded,<br> + And shuffled all into their former chaos;<br> + Were seas of sulphur flaming round about me,<br> + And all mankind roaring within those fires,<br> + I could not fear, or feel the least remorse.<br> + To the last instant I would dare thy power.<br> + Here I stand firm, and all thy threats contemn.<br> + Thy murderer (to the ghost of one whom he had murdered)<br> + Stands here! Now do thy worst!”<br> + (He is swallowed up in a cloud of fire.)<br> +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + In fine the character of Don John consists in the union of every thing + desirable to human nature, as means, and which therefore by the well known + law of association becomes at length desirable on their own account. On + their own account, and, in their own dignity, they are here displayed, as + being employed to ends so unhuman, that in the effect, they appear almost + as means without an end. The ingredients too are mixed in the happiest + proportion, so as to uphold and relieve each other—more especially + in that constant interpoise of wit, gaiety, and social generosity, which + prevents the criminal, even in his most atrocious moments, from sinking + into the mere ruffian, as far at least, as our imagination sits in + judgment. Above all, the fine suffusion through the whole, with the + characteristic manners and feelings, of a highly bred gentleman gives life + to the drama. Thus having invited the statue-ghost of the governor, whom + he had murdered, to supper, which invitation the marble ghost accepted by + a nod of the head, Don John has prepared a banquet. + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “D. JOHN.—Some wine, sirrah! Here’s to Don Pedro’s ghost—he should<br> + have been welcome.<br> +<br> +“D. LOP.—The rascal is afraid of you after death.<br> + (One knocks hard at the door.)<br> + + “D. JOHN.—(to the servant)—Rise and do your duty.<br> +<br> +“SERV.—Oh the devil, the devil! (Marble ghost enters.)<br> +<br> + “D. JOHN.—Ha! ’tis the ghost! Let’s rise and receive him! Come,<br> + Governour, you are welcome, sit there; if we had thought you would<br> + have come, we would have staid for you.<br> +<br> + * * * * * *<br> +<br> + Here, Governour, your health! Friends, put it about! Here’s<br> + excellent meat, taste of this ragout. Come, I’ll help you, come<br> + eat, and let old quarrels be forgotten. (The ghost threatens him<br> + with vengeance.)<br> +<br> +“D. JOHN.—We are too much confirmed—curse on this dry discourse.<br> + Come, here’s to your mistress, you had one when you were living:<br> + not forgetting your sweet sister. (devils enter.)<br> +<br> + “D. JOHN.—Are these some of your retinue? Devils, say you? I’m<br> + sorry I have no burnt brandy to treat ’em with, that’s drink fit<br> + for devils,” etc.<br> +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Nor is the scene from which we quote interesting, in dramatic probability + alone; it is susceptible likewise of a sound moral; of a moral that has + more than common claims on the notice of a too numerous class, who are + ready to receive the qualities of gentlemanly courage, and scrupulous + honour, (in all the recognised laws of honour,) as the substitutes of + virtue, instead of its ornaments. This, indeed, is the moral value of the + play at large, and that which places it at a world’s distance from the + spirit of modern jacobinism. The latter introduces to us clumsy copies of + these showy instrumental qualities, in order to reconcile us to vice and + want of principle; while the Atheista Fulminato presents an exquisite + portraiture of the same qualities, in all their gloss and glow, but + presents them for the sole purpose of displaying their hollowness, and in + order to put us on our guard by demonstrating their utter indifference to + vice and virtue, whenever these and the like accomplishments are + contemplated for themselves alone. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Eighteen years ago I observed, that the whole secret of the modern + jacobinical drama, (which, and not the German, is its appropriate + designation,) and of all its popularity, consists in the confusion and + subversion of the natural order of things in their causes and effects: + namely, in the excitement of surprise by representing the qualities of + liberality, refined feeling, and a nice sense of honour (those things + rather which pass amongst us for such) in persons and in classes where + experience teaches us least to expect them; and by rewarding with all the + sympathies which are the due of virtue, those criminals whom law, reason, + and religion have excommunicated from our esteem. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + This of itself would lead me back to BERTRAM, or the CASTLE OF ST. + ALDOBRAND; but, in my own mind, this tragedy was brought into connection + with THE LIBERTINE, (Shadwell’s adaptation of the Atheista Fulminato to + the English stage in the reign of Charles the Second,) by the fact, that + our modern drama is taken, in the substance of it, from the first scene of + the third act of THE LIBERTINE. But with what palpable superiority of + judgment in the original! Earth and hell, men and spirits are up in arms + against Don John; the two former acts of the play have not only prepared + us for the supernatural, but accustomed us to the prodigious. It is, + therefore, neither more nor less than we anticipate when the Captain + exclaims: “In all the dangers I have been, such horrors I never knew. I am + quite unmanned:” and when the Hermit says, that he had “beheld the ocean + in wildest rage, yet ne’er before saw a storm so dreadful, such horrid + flashes of lightning, and such claps of thunder, were never in my + remembrance.” And Don John’s burst of startling impiety is equally + intelligible in its motive, as dramatic in its effect. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + But what is there to account for the prodigy of the tempest at Bertram’s + shipwreck? It is a mere supernatural effect, without even a hint of any + supernatural agency; a prodigy, without any circumstance mentioned that is + prodigious; and a miracle introduced without a ground, and ending without + a result. Every event and every scene of the play might have taken place + as well if Bertram and his vessel had been driven in by a common hard + gale, or from want of provisions. The first act would have indeed lost its + greatest and most sonorous picture; a scene for the sake of a scene, + without a word spoken; as such, therefore, (a rarity without a precedent), + we must take it, and be thankful! In the opinion of not a few, it was, in + every sense of the word, the best scene in the play. I am quite certain it + was the most innocent: and the steady, quiet uprightness of the flame of + the wax-candles, which the monks held over the roaring billows amid the + storm of wind and rain, was really miraculous. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + The Sicilian sea coast: a convent of monks: night: a most portentous, + unearthly storm: a vessel is wrecked contrary to all human expectation, + one man saves himself by his prodigious powers as a swimmer, aided by the + peculiarity of his destination— + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “PRIOR.———All, all did perish<br> +<br> + FIRST MONK.—Change, change those drenched weeds—<br> +<br> + PRIOR.—I wist not of them—every soul did perish—<br> + Enter third Monk hastily.<br> +<br> + “THIRD MONK.—No, there was one did battle with the storm<br> + With careless desperate force; full many times<br> + His life was won and lost, as tho’ he recked not—<br> + No hand did aid him, and he aided none—<br> + Alone he breasted the broad wave, alone<br> + That man was saved.” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Well! This man is led in by the monks, supposed dripping wet, and to very + natural inquiries he either remains silent, or gives most brief and surly + answers, and after three or four of these half-line courtesies, “dashing + off the monks” who had saved him, he exclaims in the true sublimity of our + modern misanthropic heroism— + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “Off! ye are men—there’s poison in your touch.<br> + But I must yield, for this” (what?) “hath left me strengthless.” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + So end the three first scenes. In the next (the Castle of St. Aldobrand,) + we find the servants there equally frightened with this unearthly storm, + though wherein it differed from other violent storms we are not told, + except that Hugo informs us, page 9— + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “PIET.—Hugo, well met. Does e’en thy age bear<br> + Memory of so terrible a storm?<br> +<br> + HUGO.—They have been frequent lately.<br> +<br> + PIET.—They are ever so in Sicily.<br> +<br> + HUGO.—So it is said. But storms when I was young<br> + Would still pass o’er like Nature’s fitful fevers,<br> + And rendered all more wholesome. Now their rage,<br> + Sent thus unseasonable and profitless,<br> + Speaks like the threats of heaven.” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + A most perplexing theory of Sicilian storms is this of old Hugo! and what + is very remarkable, not apparently founded on any great familiarity of his + own with this troublesome article. For when Pietro asserts the “ever more + frequency” of tempests in Sicily, the old man professes to know nothing + more of the fact, but by hearsay. “So it is said.”—But why he + assumed this storm to be unseasonable, and on what he grounded his + prophecy, (for the storm is still in full fury), that it would be + profitless, and without the physical powers common to all other violent + sea-winds in purifying the atmosphere, we are left in the dark; as well + concerning the particular points in which he knew it, during its + continuance, to differ from those that he had been acquainted with in his + youth. We are at length introduced to the Lady Imogine, who, we learn, had + not rested “through” the night; not on account of the tempest, for + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “Long ere the storm arose, her restless gestures<br> + Forbade all hope to see her blest with sleep.” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Sitting at a table, and looking at a portrait, she informs us—First, + that portrait-painters may make a portrait from memory, + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “The limner’s art may trace the absent feature.” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + For surely these words could never mean, that a painter may have a person + sit to him who afterwards may leave the room or perhaps the country? + Secondly, that a portrait-painter can enable a mourning lady to possess a + good likeness of her absent lover, but that the portrait- painter cannot, + and who shall— + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “Restore the scenes in which they met and parted?” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + The natural answer would have been—Why the scene-painter to be sure! + But this unreasonable lady requires in addition sundry things to be + painted that have neither lines nor colours— + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “The thoughts, the recollections, sweet and bitter,<br> + Or the Elysian dreams of lovers when they loved.” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Which last sentence must be supposed to mean; when they were present, and + making love to each other.—Then, if this portrait could speak, it + would “acquit the faith of womankind.” How? Had she remained constant? No, + she has been married to another man, whose wife she now is. How then? Why, + that, in spite of her marriage vow, she had continued to yearn and crave + for her former lover— + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “This has her body, that her mind:<br> + Which has the better bargain?”<br> +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + The lover, however, was not contented with this precious arrangement, as + we shall soon find. The lady proceeds to inform us that during the many + years of their separation, there have happened in the different parts of + the world, a number of “such things;” even such, as in a course of years + always have, and till the Millennium, doubtless always will happen + somewhere or other. Yet this passage, both in language and in metre, is + perhaps amongst the best parts of the play. The lady’s love companion and + most esteemed attendant, Clotilda, now enters and explains this love and + esteem by proving herself a most passive and dispassionate listener, as + well as a brief and lucky querist, who asks by chance, questions that we + should have thought made for the very sake of the answers. In short, she + very much reminds us of those puppet-heroines, for whom the showman + contrives to dialogue without any skill in ventriloquism. This, + notwithstanding, is the best scene in the Play, and though crowded with + solecisms, corrupt diction, and offences against metre, would possess + merits sufficient to out-weigh them, if we could suspend the moral sense + during the perusal. It tells well and passionately the preliminary + circumstances, and thus overcomes the main difficulty of most first acts, + to wit, that of retrospective narration. It tells us of her having been + honourably addressed by a noble youth, of rank and fortune vastly superior + to her own: of their mutual love, heightened on her part by gratitude; of + his loss of his sovereign’s favour; his disgrace; attainder; and flight; + that he (thus degraded) sank into a vile ruffian, the chieftain of a + murderous banditti; and that from the habitual indulgence of the most + reprobate habits and ferocious passions, he had become so changed, even in + appearance, and features, + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “That she who bore him had recoiled from him,<br> + Nor known the alien visage of her child,<br> + Yet still she (Imogine) lov’d him.”<br> +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + She is compelled by the silent entreaties of a father, perishing with + “bitter shameful want on the cold earth,” to give her hand, with a heart + thus irrecoverably pre-engaged, to Lord Aldobrand, the enemy of her lover, + even to the very man who had baffled his ambitious schemes, and was, at + the present time, entrusted with the execution of the sentence of death + which had been passed on Bertram. Now, the proof of “woman’s love,” so + industriously held forth for the sympathy, if not for the esteem of the + audience, consists in this, that, though Bertram had become a robber and a + murderer by trade, a ruffian in manners, yea, with form and features at + which his own mother could not but “recoil,” yet she (Lady Imogine) “the + wife of a most noble, honoured Lord,” estimable as a man, exemplary and + affectionate as a husband, and the fond father of her only child—that + she, notwithstanding all this, striking her heart, dares to say to it— + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “But thou art Bertram’s still, and Bertram’s ever.” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + A Monk now enters, and entreats in his Prior’s name for the wonted + hospitality, and “free noble usage” of the Castle of St. Aldobrand for + some wretched shipwrecked souls, and from this we learn, for the first + time, to our infinite surprise, that notwithstanding the supernaturalness + of the storm aforesaid, not only Bertram, but the whole of his gang, had + been saved, by what means we are left to conjecture, and can only conclude + that they had all the same desperate swimming powers, and the same saving + destiny as the hero, Bertram himself. So ends the first act, and with it + the tale of the events, both those with which the tragedy begins, and + those which had occurred previous to the date of its commencement. The + second displays Bertram in disturbed sleep, which the Prior, who hangs + over him, prefers calling a “starting trance,” and with a strained voice, + that would have awakened one of the seven sleepers, observes to the + audience— + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “How the lip works! How the bare teeth do grind!<br> + And beaded drops course <a href="#linknote-81" id="linknoteref-81">[81]</a> down his writhen brow!” + + </p><p> +The dramatic effect of which passage we not only concede to the admirers +of this tragedy, but acknowledge the further advantages of preparing the +audience for the most surprising series of wry faces, proflated mouths, +and lunatic gestures that were ever “launched” on an audience to “sear +the sense.”<a href="#linknote-82" id="linknoteref-82">[82]</a> + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “PRIOR.—I will awake him from this horrid trance. This is no + natural sleep! Ho, wake thee, stranger!” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + This is rather a whimsical application of the verb reflex we must confess, + though we remember a similar transfer of the agent to the patient in a + manuscript tragedy, in which the Bertram of the piece, prostrating a man + with a single blow of his fist, exclaims—“Knock me thee down, then + ask thee if thou liv’st.” Well; the stranger obeys, and whatever his sleep + might have been, his waking was perfectly natural; for lethargy itself + could not withstand the scolding Stentorship of Mr. Holland, the Prior. We + next learn from the best authority, his own confession, that the + misanthropic hero, whose destiny was incompatible with drowning, is Count + Bertram, who not only reveals his past fortunes, but avows with open + atrocity, his Satanic hatred of Imogine’s lord, and his frantick thirst of + revenge; and so the raving character raves, and the scolding character + scolds—and what else? Does not the Prior act? Does he not send for a + posse of constables or thief-takers to handcuff the villain, or take him + either to Bedlam or Newgate? Nothing of the kind; the author preserves the + unity of character, and the scolding Prior from first to last does nothing + but scold, with the exception indeed of the last scene of the last act, in + which, with a most surprising revolution, he whines, weeps, and kneels to + the condemned blaspheming assassin out of pure affection to the + high-hearted man, the sublimity of whose angel-sin rivals the star-bright + apostate, (that is, who was as proud as Lucifer, and as wicked as the + Devil), and, “had thrilled him,” (Prior Holland aforesaid), with wild + admiration. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Accordingly in the very next scene, we have this tragic Macheath, with his + whole gang, in the Castle of St. Aldobrand, without any attempt on the + Prior’s part either to prevent him, or to put the mistress and servants of + the Castle on their guard against their new inmates; though he (the Prior) + knew, and confesses that he knew, that Bertram’s “fearful mates” were + assassins so habituated and naturalized to guilt, that— + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “When their drenched hold forsook both gold and gear,<br> + They griped their daggers with a murderer’s instinct;” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + and though he also knew, that Bertram was the leader of a band whose trade + was blood. To the Castle however he goes, thus with the holy Prior’s + consent, if not with his assistance; and thither let us follow him. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + No sooner is our hero safely housed in the Castle of St. Aldobrand, than + he attracts the notice of the lady and her confidante, by his “wild and + terrible dark eyes,” “muffled form,” “fearful form,” <a href="#linknote-83" id="linknoteref-83">[83]</a> “darkly wild,” “proudly + stern,” and the like common-place indefinites, seasoned by merely verbal + antitheses, and at best, copied with very slight change, from the Conrade + of Southey’s JOAN OF ARC. The lady Imogine, who has been, (as is the case, + she tells us, with all soft and solemn spirits,) worshipping the moon on a + terrace or rampart within view of the Castle, insists on having an + interview with our hero, and this too tete-a-tete. Would the reader learn + why and wherefore the confidante is excluded, who very properly + remonstrates against such “conference, alone, at night, with one who bears + such fearful form;” the reason follows—“why, therefore send him!” I + say, follows, because the next line, “all things of fear have lost their + power over me,” is separated from the former by a break or pause, and + besides that it is a very poor answer to the danger, is no answer at all + to the gross indelicacy of this wilful exposure. We must therefore regard + it as a mere after-thought, that a little softens the rudeness, but adds + nothing to the weight, of that exquisite woman’s reason aforesaid. And so + exit Clotilda and enter Bertram, who “stands without looking at her,” that + is, with his lower limbs forked, his arms akimbo, his side to the lady’s + front, the whole figure resembling an inverted Y. He is soon however + roused from the state surly to the state frantick, and then follow raving, + yelling, cursing, she fainting, he relenting, in runs Imogine’s child, + squeaks “mother!” He snatches it up, and with a “God bless thee, child! + Bertram has kissed thy child,”—the curtain drops. The third act is + short, and short be our account of it. It introduces Lord St. Aldobrand on + his road homeward, and next Imogine in the convent, confessing the + foulness of her heart to the Prior, who first indulges his old humour with + a fit of senseless scolding, then leaves her alone with her ruffian + paramour, with whom she makes at once an infamous appointment, and the + curtain drops, that it may be carried into act and consummation. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + I want words to describe the mingled horror and disgust with which I + witnessed the opening of the fourth act, considering it as a melancholy + proof of the depravation of the public mind. The shocking spirit of + jacobinism seemed no longer confined to politics. The familiarity with + atrocious events and characters appeared to have poisoned the taste, even + where it had not directly disorganized the moral principles, and left the + feelings callous to all the mild appeals, and craving alone for the + grossest and most outrageous stimulants. The very fact then present to our + senses, that a British audience could remain passive under such an insult + to common decency, nay, receive with a thunder of applause, a human being + supposed to have come reeking from the consummation of this complex + foulness and baseness, these and the like reflections so pressed as with + the weight of lead upon my heart, that actor, author, and tragedy would + have been forgotten, had it not been for a plain elderly man sitting + beside me, who, with a very serious face, that at once expressed surprise + and aversion, touched my elbow, and, pointing to the actor, said to me in + a half-whisper—“Do you see that little fellow there? he has just + been committing adultery!” Somewhat relieved by the laugh which this droll + address occasioned, I forced back my attention to the stage sufficiently + to learn, that Bertram is recovered from a transient fit of remorse by the + information, that St. Aldobrand was commissioned (to do, what every honest + man must have done without commission, if he did his duty) to seize him + and deliver him to the just vengeance of the law; an information which, + (as he had long known himself to be an attainted traitor and proclaimed + outlaw, and not only a trader in blood himself, but notoriously the + Captain of a gang of thieves, pirates, and assassins), assuredly could not + have been new to him. It is this, however, which alone and instantly + restores him to his accustomed state of raving, blasphemy, and nonsense. + Next follows Imogine’s constrained interview with her injured husband, and + his sudden departure again, all in love and kindness, in order to attend + the feast of St. Anselm at the convent. This was, it must be owned, a very + strange engagement for so tender a husband to make within a few minutes + after so long an absence. But first his lady has told him that she has “a + vow on her,” and wishes “that black perdition may gulf her perjured soul,”—(Note: + she is lying at the very time)—if she ascends his bed, till her + penance is accomplished. How, therefore, is the poor husband to amuse + himself in this interval of her penance? But do not be distressed, reader, + on account of the St. Aldobrand’s absence! As the author has contrived to + send him out of the house, when a husband would be in his, and the lover’s + way, so he will doubtless not be at a loss to bring him back again as soon + as he is wanted. Well! the husband gone in on the one side, out pops the + lover from the other, and for the fiendish purpose of harrowing up the + soul of his wretched accomplice in guilt, by announcing to her, with most + brutal and blasphemous execrations, his fixed and deliberate resolve to + assassinate her husband; all this too is for no discoverable purpose on + the part of the author, but that of introducing a series of super-tragic + starts, pauses, screams, struggling, dagger-throwing, falling on the + ground, starting up again wildly, swearing, outcries for help, falling + again on the ground, rising again, faintly tottering towards the door, + and, to end the scene, a most convenient fainting fit of our lady’s, just + in time to give Bertram an opportunity of seeking the object of his + hatred, before she alarms the house, which indeed she has had full time to + have done before, but that the author rather chose she should amuse + herself and the audience by the above-described ravings and startings. She + recovers slowly, and to her enter, Clotilda, the confidante and mother + confessor; then commences, what in theatrical language is called the + madness, but which the author more accurately entitles, delirium, it + appearing indeed a sort of intermittent fever with fits of lightheadedness + off and on, whenever occasion and stage effect happen to call for it. A + convenient return of the storm, (we told the reader before-hand how it + would be), had changed— + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “The rivulet, that bathed the convent walls,<br> + Into a foaming flood: upon its brink<br> + The Lord and his small train do stand appalled.<br> + With torch and bell from their high battlements<br> + The monks do summon to the pass in vain;<br> + He must return to-night.” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Talk of the Devil, and his horns appear, says the proverb and sure enough, + within ten lines of the exit of the messenger, sent to stop him, the + arrival of Lord St. Aldobrand is announced. Bertram’s ruffian band now + enter, and range themselves across the stage, giving fresh cause for + Imogine’s screams and madness. St. Aldobrand, having received his mortal + wound behind the scenes, totters in to welter in his blood, and to die at + the feet of this double-damned adultress. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Of her, as far as she is concerned in this fourth act, we have two + additional points to notice: first, the low cunning and Jesuitical trick + with which she deludes her husband into words of forgiveness, which he + himself does not understand; and secondly, that everywhere she is made the + object of interest and sympathy, and it is not the author’s fault, if, at + any moment, she excites feelings less gentle, than those we are accustomed + to associate with the self-accusations of a sincere religious penitent. + And did a British audience endure all this?—They received it with + plaudits, which, but for the rivalry of the carts and hackney coaches, + might have disturbed the evening-prayers of the scanty week day + congregation at St. Paul’s cathedral. + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + Tempora mutantur, nos et mutamur in illis. +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Of the fifth act, the only thing noticeable, (for rant and nonsense, + though abundant as ever, have long before the last act become things of + course,) is the profane representation of the high altar in a chapel, with + all the vessels and other preparations for the holy sacrament. A hymn is + actually sung on the stage by the chorister boys! For the rest, Imogine, + who now and then talks deliriously, but who is always light-headed as far + as her gown and hair can make her so, wanders about in dark woods with + cavern-rocks and precipices in the back-scene; and a number of mute + dramatis personae move in and out continually, for whose presence, there + is always at least this reason, that they afford something to be seen, by + that very large part of a Drury Lane audience who have small chance of + hearing a word. She had, it appears, taken her child with her, but what + becomes of the child, whether she murdered it or not, nobody can tell, + nobody can learn; it was a riddle at the representation, and after a most + attentive perusal of the Play, a riddle it remains. + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “No more I know, I wish I did,<br> + And I would tell it all to you;<br> + For what became of this poor child<br> + There’s none that ever knew.” +</p> + <p> + Our whole information <a href="#linknote-84" id="linknoteref-84">[84]</a> is derived from the following words-- +</p> +<p class="pre"> + “PRIOR.--Where is thy child? +</p> +<p class="pre"> + CLOTIL.--(Pointing to the cavern into which she has looked)<br> + Oh he lies cold within his cavern-tomb!<br> + Why dost thou urge her with the horrid theme? +</p> +<p class="pre"> + PRIOR.--(who will not, the reader may observe, be disappointed of<br> + his dose of scolding)<br> + It was to make (query wake) one living cord o’ th’ heart,<br> + And I will try, tho’ my own breaks at it.<br> + Where is thy child?<br> +</p> +<p class="pre"> + IMOG.--(with a frantic laugh) The forest fiend hath snatched him--<br> + He (who? the fiend or the child?) rides the night-mare thro’ the<br> + wizard woods.” +</p> +<p> +Now these two lines consist in a senseless plagiarism from the +counterfeited madness of Edgar in Lear, who, in imitation of the +gypsy incantations, puns on the old word mair, a hag; and the no less +senseless adoption of Dryden’s forest fiend, and the wisard stream by +which Milton, in his Lycidas, so finely characterizes the spreading +Deva, fabulosus amnis. Observe too these images stand unique in the +speeches of Imogine, without the slightest resemblance to anything she +says before or after. But we are weary. The characters in this act +frisk about, here, there, and every where, as teasingly as the Jack +o’ Lantern-lights which mischievous boys, from across a narrow street, +throw with a looking-glass on the faces of their opposite neighbours. +Bertram disarmed, outheroding Charles de Moor in the Robbers, befaces +the collected knights of St. Anselm, (all in complete armour) and so, by +pure dint of black looks, he outdares them into passive poltroons. The +sudden revolution in the Prior’s manners we have before noticed, and +it is indeed so outre, that a number of the audience imagined a great +secret was to come out, viz.: that the Prior was one of the many +instances of a youthful sinner metamorphosed into an old scold, and that +this Bertram would appear at last to be his son. Imogine re-appears at +the convent, and dies of her own accord. Bertram stabs himself, and dies +by her side, and that the play may conclude as it began, to wit, in +a superfetation of blasphemy upon nonsense, because he had snatched +a sword from a despicable coward, who retreats in terror when it is +pointed towards him in sport; this felo de se, and thief-captain--this +loathsome and leprous confluence of robbery, adultery, murder, and +cowardly assassination,--this monster, whose best deed is, the having +saved his betters from the degradation of hanging him, by turning Jack +Ketch to himself; first recommends the charitable Monks and holy Prior +to pray for his soul, and then has the folly and impudence to exclaim--</p> +<p> + <span style="margin-left: 10em;">“I die no felon’s death,</span><br> + A warriour’s weapon freed a warriour’s soul!”<br> +</p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <p> + </p> + <h2 id="link2HCH0024"> + CHAPTER XXIV + </h2> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2H_CONC"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <p> + </p> + <h2> + CONCLUSION + </h2> + <p> + </p> + <p> + It sometimes happens that we are punished for our faults by incidents, in + the causation of which these faults had no share: and this I have always + felt the severest punishment. The wound indeed is of the same dimensions; + but the edges are jagged, and there is a dull underpain that survives the + smart which it had aggravated. For there is always a consolatory feeling + that accompanies the sense of a proportion between antecedents and + consequents. The sense of Before and After becomes both intelligible and + intellectual when, and only when, we contemplate the succession in the + relations of Cause and Effect, which, like the two poles of the magnet + manifest the being and unity of the one power by relative opposites, and + give, as it were, a substratum of permanence, of identity, and therefore + of reality, to the shadowy flux of Time. It is Eternity revealing itself + in the phaenomena of Time: and the perception and acknowledgment of the + proportionality and appropriateness of the Present to the Past, prove to + the afflicted Soul, that it has not yet been deprived of the sight of God, + that it can still recognise the effective presence of a Father, though + through a darkened glass and a turbid atmosphere, though of a Father that + is chastising it. And for this cause, doubtless, are we so framed in mind, + and even so organized in brain and nerve, that all confusion is painful. + It is within the experience of many medical practitioners, that a patient, + with strange and unusual symptoms of disease, has been more distressed in + mind, more wretched, from the fact of being unintelligible to himself and + others, than from the pain or danger of the disease: nay, that the patient + has received the most solid comfort, and resumed a genial and enduring + cheerfulness, from some new symptom or product, that had at once + determined the name and nature of his complaint, and rendered it an + intelligible effect of an intelligible cause: even though the discovery + did at the same moment preclude all hope of restoration. Hence the mystic + theologians, whose delusions we may more confidently hope to separate from + their actual intuitions, when we condescend to read their works without + the presumption that whatever our fancy, (always the ape, and too often + the adulterator and counterfeit of our memory,) has not made or cannot + make a picture of, must be nonsense,—hence, I say, the Mystics have + joined in representing the state of the reprobate spirits as a dreadful + dream in which there is no sense of reality, not even of the pangs they + are enduring—an eternity without time, and as it were below it—God + present without manifestation of his presence. But these are depths, which + we dare not linger over. Let us turn to an instance more on a level with + the ordinary sympathies of mankind. Here then, and in this same healing + influence of Light and distinct Beholding, we may detect the final cause + of that instinct which, in the great majority of instances, leads, and + almost compels the Afflicted to communicate their sorrows. Hence too flows + the alleviation that results from “opening out our griefs:” which are thus + presented in distinguishable forms instead of the mist, through which + whatever is shapeless becomes magnified and (literally) enormous. Casimir, + in the fifth Ode of his third Book, has happily <a href="#linknote-85" id="linknoteref-85">[85]</a> expressed this thought. + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + <span style="margin-left: 20em;">Me longus silendi</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Edit amor, facilesque luctus</span><br> + Hausit medullas. Fugerit ocyus,<br> + Simul negantem visere jusseris<br> + <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Aures amicorum, et loquacem</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 15em;">Questibus evacuaris iram.</span><br> + + Olim querendo desinimus queri,<br> + Ipsoque fletu lacryma perditur<br> + <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Nec fortis <a href="#linknote-86" id="linknoteref-86">[86]</a> aeque, si per omnes</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 15em;">Cura volat residetque ramos.</span><br> + + Vires amicis perdit in auribus,<br> + Minorque semper dividitur dolor,<br> + <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Per multa permissus vagari</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 15em;">Pectora.—</span> +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + I shall not make this an excuse, however, for troubling my readers with + any complaints or explanations, with which, as readers, they have little + or no concern. It may suffice, (for the present at least,) to declare, + that the causes that have delayed the publication of these volumes for so + long a period after they had been printed off, were not connected with any + neglect of my own; and that they would form an instructive comment on the + chapter concerning authorship as a trade, addressed to young men of genius + in the first volume of this work. I remember the ludicrous effect produced + on my mind by the fast sentence of an auto-biography, which, happily for + the writer, was as meagre in incidents as it is well possible for the life + of an individual to be—“The eventful life which I am about to + record, from the hour in which I rose into existence on this planet, etc.” + Yet when, notwithstanding this warning example of self-importance before + me, I review my own life, I cannot refrain from applying the same epithet + to it, and with more than ordinary emphasis—and no private feeling, + that affected myself only, should prevent me from publishing the same, + (for write it I assuredly shall, should life and leisure be granted me,) + if continued reflection should strengthen my present belief, that my + history would add its contingent to the enforcement of one important + truth, to wit, that we must not only love our neighbours as ourselves, but + ourselves likewise as our neighbours; and that we can do neither unless we + love God above both. + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + <span style="margin-left: 20em;">Who lives, that’s not</span><br> + Depraved or depraves? Who dies, that bears<br> + Not one spurn to the grave of their friends’ gift? +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Strange as the delusion may appear, yet it is most true, that three years + ago I did not know or believe that I had an enemy in the world: and now + even my strongest sensations of gratitude are mingled with fear, and I + reproach myself for being too often disposed to ask,—Have I one + friend?—During the many years which intervened between the + composition and the publication of the CHRISTABEL, it became almost as + well known among literary men as if it had been on common sale; the same + references were made to it, and the same liberties taken with it, even to + the very names of the imaginary persons in the poem. From almost all of + our most celebrated poets, and from some with whom I had no personal + acquaintance, I either received or heard of expressions of admiration + that, (I can truly say,) appeared to myself utterly disproportionate to a + work, that pretended to be nothing more than a common Faery Tale. Many, + who had allowed no merit to my other poems, whether printed or manuscript, + and who have frankly told me as much, uniformly made an exception in + favour of the CHRISTABEL and the poem entitled LOVE. Year after year, and + in societies of the most different kinds, I had been entreated to recite + it and the result was still the same in all, and altogether different in + this respect from the effect produced by the occasional recitation of any + other poems I had composed.—This before the publication. And since + then, with very few exceptions, I have heard nothing but abuse, and this + too in a spirit of bitterness at least as disproportionate to the + pretensions of the poem, had it been the most pitiably below mediocrity, + as the previous eulogies, and far more inexplicable.—This may serve + as a warning to authors, that in their calculations on the probable + reception of a poem, they must subtract to a large amount from the + panegyric, which may have encouraged them to publish it, however + unsuspicious and however various the sources of this panegyric may have + been. And, first, allowances must be made for private enmity, of the very + existence of which they had perhaps entertained no suspicion—for + personal enmity behind the mask of anonymous criticism: secondly for the + necessity of a certain proportion of abuse and ridicule in a Review, in + order to make it saleable, in consequence of which, if they have no + friends behind the scenes, the chance must needs be against them; but + lastly and chiefly, for the excitement and temporary sympathy of feeling, + which the recitation of the poem by an admirer, especially if he be at + once a warm admirer and a man of acknowledged celebrity, calls forth in + the audience. For this is really a species of animal magnetism, in which + the enkindling reciter, by perpetual comment of looks and tones, lends his + own will and apprehensive faculty to his auditors. They live for the time + within the dilated sphere of his intellectual being. It is equally + possible, though not equally common, that a reader left to himself should + sink below the poem, as that the poem left to itself should flag beneath + the feelings of the reader.—But, in my own instance, I had the + additional misfortune of having been gossiped about, as devoted to + metaphysics, and worse than all, to a system incomparably nearer to the + visionary flights of Plato, and even to the jargon of the Mystics, than to + the established tenets of Locke. Whatever therefore appeared with my name + was condemned beforehand, as predestined metaphysics. In a dramatic poem, + which had been submitted by me to a gentleman of great influence in the + theatrical world, occurred the following passage:— + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “O we are querulous creatures! Little less<br> + Than all things can suffice to make us happy:<br> + And little more than nothing is enough<br> + To make us wretched.” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + Aye, here now! (exclaimed the critic) here come Coleridge’s metaphysics! + And the very same motive (that is, not that the lines were unfit for the + present state of our immense theatres; but that they were metaphysics <a href="#linknote-87" id="linknoteref-87">[87]</a>) + was assigned elsewhere for the rejection of the two following passages. + The first is spoken in answer to a usurper, who had rested his plea on the + circumstance, that he had been chosen by the acclamations of the people.— + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “What people? How convened? or, if convened,<br> + Must not the magic power that charms together<br> + Millions of men in council, needs have power<br> + To win or wield them? Rather, O far rather<br> + Shout forth thy titles to yon circling mountains,<br> + And with a thousand-fold reverberation<br> + Make the rocks flatter thee, and the volleying air,<br> + Unbribed, shout back to thee, King Emerick!<br> + By wholesome laws to embank the sovereign power,<br> + To deepen by restraint, and by prevention<br> + Of lawless will to amass and guide the flood<br> + In its majestic channel, is man’s task<br> + And the true patriot’s glory! In all else<br> + Men safelier trust to Heaven, than to themselves<br> + When least themselves: even in those whirling crowds<br> + Where folly is contagious, and too oft<br> + Even wise men leave their better sense at home,<br> + To chide and wonder at them, when returned.” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + The second passage is in the mouth of an old and experienced courtier, + betrayed by the man in whom he had most trusted. + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “And yet Sarolta, simple, inexperienced,<br> + Could see him as he was, and often warned me.<br> + Whence learned she this?—O she was innocent!<br> + And to be innocent is Nature’s wisdom!<br> + The fledge-dove knows the prowlers of the air,<br> + Feared soon as seen, and flutters back to shelter.<br> + And the young steed recoils upon his haunches,<br> + The never-yet-seen adder’s hiss first heard.<br> + O surer than suspicion’s hundred eyes<br> + Is that fine sense, which to the pure in heart,<br> + By mere oppugnancy of their own goodness,<br> + Reveals the approach of evil.” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + As therefore my character as a writer could not easily be more injured by + an overt act than it was already in consequence of the report, I published + a work, a large portion of which was professedly metaphysical. A long + delay occurred between its first annunciation and its appearance; it was + reviewed therefore by anticipation with a malignity, so avowedly and + exclusively personal, as is, I believe, unprecedented even in the present + contempt of all common humanity that disgraces and endangers the liberty + of the press. After its appearance, the author of this lampoon undertook + to review it in the Edinburgh Review; and under the single condition, that + he should have written what he himself really thought, and have criticised + the work as he would have done had its author been indifferent to him, I + should have chosen that man myself, both from the vigour and the + originality of his mind, and from his particular acuteness in speculative + reasoning, before all others.—I remembered Catullus’s lines. + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + Desine de quoquam quicquam bene velle mereri,<br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Aut aliquem fieri posse putare pium.</span><br> + Omnia sunt ingrata: nihil fecisse benigne est:<br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Immo, etiam taedet, taedet obestque magis;</span><br> + Ut mihi, quem nemo gravius nec acerbius urget,<br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Quam modo qui me unum atque unicum amicum habuit.</span><br> +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + But I can truly say, that the grief with which I read this rhapsody of + predetermined insult, had the rhapsodist himself for its whole and sole + object. + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + * * * * * * +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + I refer to this review at present, in consequence of information having + been given me, that the inuendo of my “potential infidelity,” grounded on + one passage of my first Lay Sermon, has been received and propagated with + a degree of credence, of which I can safely acquit the originator of the + calumny. I give the sentences, as they stand in the sermon, premising only + that I was speaking exclusively of miracles worked for the outward senses + of men. “It was only to overthrow the usurpation exercised in and through + the senses, that the senses were miraculously appealed to. REASON AND + RELIGION ARE THEIR OWN EVIDENCE. The natural sun is in this respect a + symbol of the spiritual. Ere he is fully arisen, and while his glories are + still under veil, he calls up the breeze to chase away the usurping + vapours of the night-season, and thus converts the air itself into the + minister of its own purification: not surely in proof or elucidation of + the light from heaven, but to prevent its interception.” + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + “Wherever, therefore, similar circumstances co-exist with the same moral + causes, the principles revealed, and the examples recorded, in the + inspired writings, render miracles superfluous: and if we neglect to apply + truths in expectation of wonders, or under pretext of the cessation of the + latter, we tempt God, and merit the same reply which our Lord gave to the + Pharisees on a like occasion.” + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + In the sermon and the notes both the historical truth and the necessity of + the miracles are strongly and frequently asserted. “The testimony of books + of history (that is, relatively to the signs and wonders, with which + Christ came) is one of the strong and stately pillars of the church: but + it is not the foundation!” Instead, therefore, of defending myself, which + I could easily effect by a series of passages, expressing the same + opinion, from the Fathers and the most eminent Protestant Divines, from + the Reformation to the Revolution, I shall merely state what my belief is, + concerning the true evidences of Christianity. 1. Its consistency with + right Reason, I consider as the outer court of the temple—the common + area, within which it stands. 2. The miracles, with and through which the + Religion was first revealed and attested, I regard as the steps, the + vestibule, and the portal of the temple. 3. The sense, the inward feeling, + in the soul of each believer of its exceeding desirableness—the + experience, that he needs something, joined with the strong foretokening, + that the redemption and the graces propounded to us in Christ are what he + needs—this I hold to be the true foundation of the spiritual + edifice. With the strong a priori probability that flows in from 1 and 3 + on the correspondent historical evidence of 2, no man can refuse or + neglect to make the experiment without guilt. But, 4, it is the experience + derived from a practical conformity to the conditions of the Gospel—it + is the opening eye; the dawning light: the terrors and the promises of + spiritual growth; the blessedness of loving God as God, the nascent sense + of sin hated as sin, and of the incapability of attaining to either + without Christ; it is the sorrow that still rises up from beneath and the + consolation that meets it from above; the bosom treacheries of the + principal in the warfare and the exceeding faithfulness and long-suffering + of the uninteresting ally;—in a word, it is the actual trial of the + faith in Christ, with its accompaniments and results, that must form the + arched roof, and the faith itself is the completing key-stone. In order to + an efficient belief in Christianity, a man must have been a Christian, and + this is the seeming argumentum in circulo, incident to all spiritual + Truths, to every subject not presentable under the forms of Time and + Space, as long as we attempt to master by the reflex acts of the + Understanding what we can only know by the act of becoming. Do the will of + my Father, and ye shall know whether I am of God. These four evidences I + believe to have been and still to be, for the world, for the whole Church, + all necessary, all equally necessary: but at present, and for the majority + of Christians born in Christian countries, I believe the third and the + fourth evidences to be the most operative, not as superseding but as + involving a glad undoubting faith in the two former. Credidi, ideoque + intellexi, appears to me the dictate equally of Philosophy and Religion, + even as I believe Redemption to be the antecedent of Sanctification, and + not its consequent. All spiritual predicates may be construed + indifferently as modes of Action or as states of Being, Thus Holiness and + Blessedness are the same idea, now seen in relation to act and now to + existence. The ready belief which has been yielded to the slander of my + “potential infidelity,” I attribute in part to the openness with which I + have avowed my doubts, whether the heavy interdict, under which the name + of Benedict Spinoza lies, is merited on the whole or to the whole extent. + Be this as it may, I wish, however, that I could find in the books of + philosophy, theoretical or moral, which are alone recommended to the + present students of theology in our established schools, a few passages as + thoroughly Pauline, as completely accordant with the doctrines of the + Established Church, as the following sentences in the concluding page of + Spinoza’s Ethics. Deinde quo mens hoc amore divino, seu beatitudine magis + gaudet, eo plus intelligit, hoc est, eo majorem in affectus habet + potentiam, et eo minus ab affectibus, qui mali sunt, patitur; atque adeo + ex eo, quod mens hoc amore divino, seu beatitudine gaudet, potestatem + habet libidines coercendi; et quia humana potentia ad coercendos affectus + in solo intellectu consistit; ergo nemo beatitudine gaudet, quia affectus + coercuit, sed contra potestas libidines coercendi ex ipsa beatitudine + oritur. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + With regard to the Unitarians, it has been shamelessly asserted, that I + have denied them to be Christians. God forbid! For how should I know, what + the piety of the heart may be, or what quantum of error in the + understanding may consist with a saving faith in the intentions and actual + dispositions of the whole moral being in any one individual? Never will + God reject a soul that sincerely loves him: be his speculative opinions + what they may: and whether in any given instance certain opinions, be they + unbelief, or misbelief, are compatible with a sincere love of God, God can + only know.—But this I have said, and shall continue to say: that if + the doctrines, the sum of which I believe to constitute the truth in + Christ, be Christianity, then Unitarianism is not, and vice versa: and + that, in speaking theologically and impersonally, i.e. of Psilanthropism + and Theanthropism as schemes of belief, without reference to individuals, + who profess either the one or the other, it will be absurd to use a + different language as long as it is the dictate of common sense, that two + opposites cannot properly be called by the same name. I should feel no + offence if a Unitarian applied the same to me, any more than if he were to + say, that two and two being four, four and four must be eight. + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">alla broton</span><br> + ton men keneophrones auchai<br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">ex agathon ebalon;</span><br> + ton d’ au katamemphthent’ agan<br> + ischun oikeion paresphalen kalon,<br> + cheiros elkon opisso, thumos atolmos eon.<br> +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + This has been my object, and this alone can be my defence—and O! + that with this my personal as well as my LITERARY LIFE might conclude!—the + unquenched desire I mean, not without the consciousness of having + earnestly endeavoured to kindle young minds, and to guard them against the + temptations of scorners, by showing that the scheme of Christianity, as + taught in the liturgy and homilies of our Church, though not discoverable + by human reason, is yet in accordance with it; that link follows link by + necessary consequence; that Religion passes out of the ken of Reason only + where the eye of Reason has reached its own horizon; and that Faith is + then but its continuation: even as the day softens away into the sweet + twilight, and twilight, hushed and breathless, steals into the darkness. + It is night, sacred night! the upraised eye views only the starry heaven + which manifests itself alone: and the outward beholding is fixed on the + sparks twinkling in the awful depth, though suns of other worlds, only to + preserve the soul steady and collected in its pure act of inward adoration + to the great I AM, and to the filial WORD that re-affirmeth it from + eternity to eternity, whose choral echo is the universe. + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + THEO, MONO, DOXA. +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2H_FOOT"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <p> + </p> + <h2> + FOOTNOTES + </h2> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-1"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 1 (<a href="#linknoteref-1">return</a>)<br> [ The authority of Milton and + Shakespeare may be usefully pointed out to young authors. In the Comus and + other early poems of Milton there is a superfluity of double epithets; + while in the Paradise Lost we find very few, in the Paradise Regained + scarce any. The same remark holds almost equally true of the Love’s Labour + Lost, Romeo and Juliet, Venus and Adonis, and Lucrece, compared with the + Lear, Macbeth, Othello, and Hamlet of our great Dramatist. The rule for + the admission of double epithets seems to be this: either that they should + be already denizens of our language, such as blood-stained, + terror-stricken, self-applauding: or when a new epithet, or one found in + books only, is hazarded, that it, at least, be one word, not two words + made one by mere virtue of the printers hyphen. A language which, like the + English, is almost without cases, is indeed in its very genius unfitted + for compounds. If a writer, every time a compounded word suggests itself + to him, would seek for some other mode of expressing the same sense, the + chances are always greatly in favour of his finding a better word. Ut + tanquam scopulum sic fugias insolens verbum, is the wise advice of Caesar + to the Roman Orators, and the precept applies with double force to the + writers in our own language. But it must not be forgotten, that the same + Caesar wrote a Treatise for the purpose of reforming the ordinary language + by bringing it to a greater accordance with the principles of logic or + universal grammar.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-2"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 2 (<a href="#linknoteref-2">return</a>)<br> [ See the criticisms on the + Ancient Mariner, in the Monthly and Critical Reviews of the first volume + of the Lyrical Ballads.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-3"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 3 (<a href="#linknoteref-3">return</a>)<br> [ This is worthy of ranking + as a maxim, (regula maxima,) of criticism. Whatever is translatable in + other and simpler words of the same language, without loss of sense or + dignity, is bad. N.B.—By dignity I mean the absence of ludicrous and + debasing associations.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-4"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 4 (<a href="#linknoteref-4">return</a>)<br> [ The Christ’s Hospital + phrase, not for holidays altogether, but for those on which the boys are + permitted to go beyond the precincts of the school.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-5"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 5 (<a href="#linknoteref-5">return</a>)<br> [ I remember a ludicrous + instance in the poem of a young tradesman: + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “No more will I endure love’s pleasing pain,<br> + Or round my heart’s leg tie his galling chain.”] +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-6"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 6 (<a href="#linknoteref-6">return</a>)<br> [ Cowper’s Task was published + some time before the Sonnets of Mr. Bowles; but I was not familiar with it + till many years afterwards. The vein of satire which runs through that + excellent poem, together with the sombre hue of its religious opinions, + would probably, at that time, have prevented its laying any strong hold on + my affections. The love of nature seems to have led Thomson to a cheerful + religion; and a gloomy religion to have led Cowper to a love of nature. + The one would carry his fellow-men along with him into nature; the other + flies to nature from his fellow-men. In chastity of diction however, and + the harmony of blank verse, Cowper leaves Thomson immeasurably below him; + yet still I feel the latter to have been the born poet.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-7"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 7 (<a href="#linknoteref-7">return</a>)<br> [ SONNET I + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + Pensive at eve, on the hard world I mused,<br> + And m poor heart was sad; so at the Moon<br> + I gazed and sighed, and sighed; for ah how soon<br> + Eve saddens into night! mine eyes perused<br> + With tearful vacancy the dampy grass<br> + That wept and glitter’d in the paly ray<br> + And I did pause me on my lonely way<br> + And mused me on the wretched ones that pass<br> + O’er the bleak heath of sorrow. But alas!<br> + Most of myself I thought! when it befel,<br> + That the soothe spirit of the breezy wood<br> + Breath’d in mine ear: “All this is very well,<br> + But much of one thing, is for no thing good.”<br> + Oh my poor heart’s inexplicable swell!<br> +<br> + SONNET II<br> +<br> + Oh I do love thee, meek Simplicity!<br> + For of thy lays the lulling simpleness<br> + Goes to my heart, and soothes each small distress,<br> + Distress the small, yet haply great to me.<br> + ’Tis true on Lady Fortune’s gentlest pad<br> + I amble on; and yet I know not why<br> + So sad I am! but should a friend and I<br> + Frown, pout and part, then I am very sad.<br> + And then with sonnets and with sympathy<br> + My dreamy bosom’s mystic woes I pall:<br> + Now of my false friend plaining plaintively,<br> + Now raving at mankind in general;<br> + But whether sad or fierce, ’tis simple all,<br> + All very simple, meek Simplicity!<br> +<br> + SONNET III<br> +<br> + And this reft house is that, the which he built,<br> + Lamented Jack! and here his malt he pil’d,<br> + Cautious in vain! these rats, that squeak so wild,<br> + Squeak not unconscious of their father’s guilt.<br> + Did he not see her gleaming thro’ the glade!<br> + Belike ’twas she, the maiden all forlorn.<br> + What the she milk no cow with crumpled horn,<br> + Yet, aye she haunts the dale where erst she stray’d:<br> + And aye, beside her stalks her amorous knight<br> + Still on his thighs their wonted brogues are worn,<br> + And thro’ those brogues, still tatter’d and betorn,<br> + His hindward charms gleam an unearthly white.<br> + Ah! thus thro’ broken clouds at night’s high noon<br> + Peeps to fair fragments forth the full-orb’d harvest-moon! +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + The following anecdote will not be wholly out of place here, and may + perhaps amuse the reader. An amateur performer in verse expressed to a + common friend a strong desire to be introduced to me, but hesitated in + accepting my friend’s immediate offer, on the score that “he was, he must + acknowledge, the author of a confounded severe epigram on my Ancient + Mariner, which had given me great pain.” I assured my friend that, if the + epigram was a good one, it would only increase my desire to become + acquainted with the author, and begged to hear it recited: when, to my no + less surprise than amusement, it proved to be one which I had myself some + time before written and inserted in the “Morning Post,” to wit— + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + To the Author of the Ancient Mariner.<br> +<br> + Your poem must eternal be,<br> + Dear sir! it cannot fail,<br> + For ’tis incomprehensible,<br> + And without head or tail.] +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-8"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 8 (<a href="#linknoteref-8">return</a>)<br> [ — + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + Of old things all are over old,<br> + Of good things none are good enough;—<br> + We’ll show that we can help to frame<br> + A world of other stuff.<br><br> + + I too will have my kings, that take<br> + From me the sign of life and death:<br> + Kingdoms shall shift about, like clouds,<br> + Obedient to my breath.<br> + Wordsworth’s Rob Roy.—Poet. Works, vol. III. p. 127.] +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-9"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 9 (<a href="#linknoteref-9">return</a>)<br> [ Pope was under the common + error of his age, an error far from being sufficiently exploded even at + the present day. It consists (as I explained at large, and proved in + detail in my public lectures,) in mistaking for the essentials of the + Greek stage certain rules, which the wise poets imposed upon themselves, + in order to render all the remaining parts of the drama consistent with + those, that had been forced upon them by circumstances independent of + their will; out of which circumstances the drama itself arose. The + circumstances in the time of Shakespeare, which it was equally out of his + power to alter, were different, and such as, in my opinion, allowed a far + wider sphere, and a deeper and more human interest. Critics are too apt to + forget, that rules are but means to an end; consequently, where the ends + are different, the rules must be likewise so. We must have ascertained + what the end is, before we can determine what the rules ought to be. + Judging under this impression, I did not hestitate to declare my full + conviction, that the consummate judgment of Shakespeare, not only in the + general construction, but in all the details, of his dramas, impressed me + with greater wonder, than even the might of his genius, or the depth of + his philosophy. The substance of these lectures I hope soon to publish; + and it is but a debt of justice to myself and my friends to notice, that + the first course of lectures, which differed from the following courses + only, by occasionally varying the illustrations of the same thoughts, was + addressed to very numerous, and I need not add, respectable audiences at + the Royal institution, before Mr. Schlegel gave his lectures on the same + subjects at Vienna.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-10"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 10 (<a href="#linknoteref-10">return</a>)<br> [ In the course of one of + my Lectures, I had occasion to point out the almost faultless position and + choice of words, in Pope’s original compositions, particularly in his + Satires and moral Essays, for the purpose of comparing them with his + translation of Homer, which, I do not stand alone in regarding, as the + main source of our pseudo-poetic diction. And this, by the bye, is an + additional confirmation of a remark made, I believe, by Sir Joshua + Reynolds, that next to the man who forms and elevates the taste of the + public, he that corrupts it, is commonly the greatest genius. Among other + passages, I analyzed sentence by sentence, and almost word by word, the + popular lines, + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + As when the moon, refulgent lamp of night, etc.<br> + <span style="margin-left: 20em;"> (Iliad. B. viii.)</span><br> +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + much in the same way as has been since done, in an excellent article on + Chalmers’s British Poets in the Quarterly Review. The impression on the + audience in general was sudden and evident: and a number of enlightened + and highly educated persons, who at different times afterwards addressed + me on the subject, expressed their wonder, that truth so obvious should + not have struck them before; but at the same time acknowledged—(so + much had they been accustomed, in reading poetry, to receive pleasure from + the separate images and phrases successively, without asking themselves + whether the collective meaning was sense or nonsense)—that they + might in all probability have read the same passage again twenty times + with undiminished admiration, and without once reflecting, that + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + <span style="margin-left: 10em;">astra phaeinaen amphi selaenaen</span><br> + phainet aritretea— +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + (that is, the stars around, or near the full moon, shine pre-eminently + bright) conveys a just and happy image of a moonlight sky: while it is + difficult to determine whether, in the lines, + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + Around her throne the vivid planets roll,<br> + And stars unnumber’d gild the glowing pole, +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + the sense or the diction be the more absurd. My answer was; that, though I + had derived peculiar advantages from my school discipline, and though my + general theory of poetry was the same then as now, I had yet experienced + the same sensations myself, and felt almost as if I had been newly + couched, when, by Mr. Wordsworth’s conversation, I had been induced to + re-examine with impartial strictness Gray’s celebrated Elegy. I had long + before detected the defects in The Bard; but the Elegy I had considered as + proof against all fair attacks; and to this day I cannot read either + without delight, and a portion of enthusiasm. At all events, whatever + pleasure I may have lost by the clearer perception of the faults in + certain passages, has been more than repaid to me by the additional + delight with which I read the remainder. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + Another instance in confirmation of these remarks occurs to me in the + Faithful Shepherdess. Seward first traces Fletcher’s lines; + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + More foul diseases than e’er yet the hot<br> + Sun bred thro’ his burnings, while the dog<br> + Pursues the raging lion, throwing the fog<br> + And deadly vapour from his angry breath,<br> + Filling the lower world with plague and death, +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + to Spenser’s Shepherd’s Calendar, + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + The rampant lion hunts he fast<br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">With dogs of noisome breath;</span><br> + Whose baleful barking brings, in haste,<br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Pine, plagues, and dreary death!</span><br> +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + He then takes occasion to introduce Homer’s simile of the appearance of + Achilles’ mail to Priam compared with the Dog Star; literally thus— + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + “For this indeed is most splendid, but it was made an evil sign, and + brings many a consuming disease to wretched mortals.” Nothing can be more + simple as a description, or more accurate as a simile; which, (says + Seward,) is thus finely translated by Mr. Pope + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + Terrific Glory! for his burning breath<br> + Taints the red air with fevers, plagues, and death! +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + Now here—(not to mention the tremendous bombast)—the Dog Star, + so called, is turned into a real dog, a very odd dog, a fire, fever, + plague, and death-breathing, red, air-tainting dog: and the whole visual + likeness is lost, while the likeness in the effects is rendered absurd by + the exaggeration. In Spenser and Fletcher the thought is justifiable; for + the images are at least consistent, and it was the intention of the + writers to mark the seasons by this allegory of visualized puns.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-11"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 11 (<a href="#linknoteref-11">return</a>)<br> [ Especially in this age of + personality, this age of literary and political gossiping, when the + meanest insects are worshipped with a sort of Egyptian superstition, if + only the brainless head be atoned for by the sting of personal malignity + in the tail;—when the most vapid satires have become the objects of + a keen public interest, purely from the number of contemporary characters + named in the patch-work notes, (which possess, however, the comparative + merit of being more poetical than the text,) and because, to increase the + stimulus, the author has sagaciously left his own name for whispers and + conjectures.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-12"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 12 (<a href="#linknoteref-12">return</a>)<br> [ If it were worth while to + mix together, as ingredients, half the anecdotes which I either myself + know to be true, or which I have received from men incapable of + intentional falsehood, concerning the characters, qualifications, and + motives of our anonymous critics, whose decisions are oracles for our + reading public; I might safely borrow the words of the apocryphal Daniel; + “Give me leave, O SOVEREIGN PUBLIC, and I shall slay this dragon without + sward or staff.” For the compound would be as the “pitch, and fat, and + hair, which Daniel took, and did seethe them together, and made lumps + thereof; this he put in the dragon’s mouth, and so the dragon burst in + sunder; and Daniel said, LO, THESE ARE THE GODS YE WORSHIP.”] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-13"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 13 (<a href="#linknoteref-13">return</a>)<br> [ This is one instance + among many of deception, by the telling the half of a fact, and omitting + the other half, when it is from their mutual counteraction and + neutralization, that the whole truth arises, as a tertium aliquid + different from either. Thus in Dryden’s famous line + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + Great wit (meaning genius) to madness sure is near allied. +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + Now if the profound sensibility, which is doubtless one of the components + of genius, were alone considered, single and unbalanced, it might be + fairly described as exposing the individual to a greater chance of mental + derangement; but then a more than usual rapidity of association, a more + than usual power of passing from thought to thought, and image to image, + is a component equally essential; and to the due modification of each by + the other the genius itself consists; so that it would be just as fair to + describe the earth, as in imminent danger of exorbitating, or of falling + into the sun, according as the assertor of the absurdity confined his + attention either to the projectile or to the attractive force + exclusively.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-14"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 14 (<a href="#linknoteref-14">return</a>)<br> [ For as to the devotees of + the circulating libraries, I dare not compliment their pass-time, or + rather kill-time, with the name of reading. Call it rather a sort of + beggarly day-dreaming, during which the mind of the dreamer furnishes for + itself nothing but laziness, and a little mawkish sensibility; while the + whole materiel and imagery of the doze is supplied ab extra by a sort of + mental camera obscura manufactured at the printing office, which pro + tempore fixes, reflects, and transmits the moving phantasms of one mans + delirium, so as to people the barrenness of a hundred other brains + afflicted with the same trance or suspension of all common sense and all + definite purpose. We should therefore transfer this species of amusement—(if + indeed those can be said to retire a musis, who were never in their + company, or relaxation be attributable to those, whose bows are never + bent)—from the genus, reading, to that comprebensive class + characterized by the power of reconciling the two contrary yet coexisting + propensities of human nature, namely, indulgence of sloth, and hatred of + vacancy. In addition to novels and tales of chivalry to prose or rhyme, + (by which last I mean neither rhythm nor metre) this genus comprises as + its species, gaming, swinging, or swaying on a chair or gate; spitting + over a bridge; smoking; snuff-taking; tete-a-tete quarrels after dinner + between husband and wife; conning word by word all the advertisements of a + daily newspaper in a public house on a rainy day, etc. etc. etc.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-15"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 15 (<a href="#linknoteref-15">return</a>)<br> [ Ex. gr. Pediculos e + capillis excerptos in arenam jacere incontusos; eating of unripe fruit; + gazing on the clouds, and (in genere) on movable things suspended in the + air; riding among a multitude of camels; frequent laughter; listening to a + series of jests and humorous anecdotes,—as when (so to modernize the + learned Saracen’s meaning) one man’s droll story of an Irishman inevitably + occasions another’s droll story of a Scotchman, which again, by the same + sort of conjunction disjunctive, leads to some etourderie of a Welshman, + and that again to some sly hit of a Yorkshireman;—the habit of + reading tomb-stones in church-yards, etc. By the bye, this catalogue, + strange as it may appear, is not insusceptible of a sound psychological + commentary.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-16"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 16 (<a href="#linknoteref-16">return</a>)<br> [ I have ventured to call + it unique; not only because I know no work of the kind in our language, + (if we except a few chapters of the old translation of Froissart)—none, + which uniting the charms of romance and history, keeps the imagination so + constantly on the wing, and yet leaves so much for after reflection; but + likewise, and chiefly, because it is a compilation, which, in the various + excellencies of translation, selection, and arrangement, required and + proves greater genius in the compiler, as living in the present state of + society, than in the original composers.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-17"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 17 (<a href="#linknoteref-17">return</a>)<br> [ It is not easy to + estimate the effects which the example of a young man as highly + distinguished for strict purity of disposition and conduct, as for + intellectual power and literary acquirements, may produce on those of the + same age with himself, especially on those of similar pursuits and + congenial minds. For many years, my opportunities of intercourse with Mr. + Southey have been rare, and at long intervals; but I dwell with unabated + pleasure on the strong and sudden, yet I trust not fleeting, influence, + which my moral being underwent on my acquaintance with him at Oxford, + whither I had gone at the commencement of our Cambridge vacation on a + visit to an old school-fellow. Not indeed on my moral or religious + principles, for they had never been contaminated; but in awakening the + sense of the duty and dignity of making my actions accord with those + principles, both in word and deed. The irregularities only not universal + among the young men of my standing, which I always knew to be wrong, I + then learned to feel as degrading; learned to know that an opposite + conduct, which was at that time considered by us as the easy virtue of + cold and selfish prudence, might originate in the noblest emotions, in + views the most disinterested and imaginative. It is not however from + grateful recollections only, that I have been impelled thus to leave these + my deliberate sentiments on record; but in some sense as a debt of justice + to the man, whose name has been so often connected with mine for evil to + which he is a stranger. As a specimen I subjoin part of a note, from The + Beauties of the Anti-jacobin, in which, having previously informed the + public that I had been dishonoured at Cambridge for preaching Deism, at a + time when, for my youthful ardour in defence of Christianity, I was + decried as a bigot by the proselytes of French phi-(or to speak more truly + psi-)-losophy, the writer concludes with these words; “since this time he + has left his native country, commenced citizen of the world, left his poor + children fatherless, and his wife destitute. Ex his disce his friends, + LAMB and SOUTHEY.” With severest truth it may be asserted, that it would + not be easy to select two men more exemplary in their domestic affections + than those whose names were thus printed at full length as in the same + rank of morals with a denounced infidel and fugitive, who had left his + children fatherless and his wife destitute! Is it surprising, that many + good men remained longer than perhaps they otherwise would have done + adverse to a party, which encouraged and openly rewarded the authors of + such atrocious calumnies? Qualis es, nescio; sed per quales agis, scio et + doleo.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-18"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 18 (<a href="#linknoteref-18">return</a>)<br> [ In opinions of long + continuance, and in which we have never before been molested by a single + doubt, to be suddenly convinced of an error, is almost like being + convicted of a fault. There is a state of mind, which is the direct + antithesis of that, which takes place when we make a bull. The bull namely + consists in the bringing her two incompatible thoughts, with the + sensation, but without the sense, of their connection. The psychological + condition, or that which constitutes the possibility, of this state, being + such disproportionate vividness of two distant thoughts, as extinguishes + or obscures the consciousness of the intermediate images or conceptions, + or wholly abstracts the attention from them. Thus in the well known bull, + “I was a fine child, but they changed me:” the first conception expressed + in the word “I,” is that of personal identity—Ego contemplans: the + second expressed in the word “me,” is the visual image or object by which + the mind represents to itself its past condition, or rather, its personal + identity under the form in which it imagined itself previously to have + existed,—Ego contemplatus. Now the change of one visual image for + another involves in itself no absurdity, and becomes absurd only by its + immediate juxta-position with the fast thought, which is rendered possible + by the whole attention being successively absorbed to each singly, so as + not to notice the interjacent notion, changed, which by its incongruity, + with the first thought, I, constitutes the bull. Add only, that this + process is facilitated by the circumstance of the words I, and me, being + sometimes equivalent, and sometimes having a distinct meaning; sometimes, + namely, signifying the act of self-consciousness, sometimes the external + image in and by which the mind represents that act to itself, the result + and symbol of its individuality. Now suppose the direct contrary state, + and you will have a distinct sense of the connection between two + conceptions, without that sensation of such connection which is supplied + by habit. The man feels as if he were standing on his head though he + cannot but see that he is truly standing on his feet. This, as a painful + sensation, will of course have a tendency to associate itself with him who + occasions it; even as persons, who have been by painful means restored + from derangement, are known to feel an involuntary dislike towards their + physician.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-19"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 19 (<a href="#linknoteref-19">return</a>)<br> [ Without however the + apprehensions attributed to the Pagan reformer of the poetic republic. If + we may judge from the preface to the recent collection of his poems, Mr. + W. would have answered with Xanthias— + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + su d’ ouk edeisas ton huophon ton rhaematon,<br> + kai tas apeilas; XAN, ou ma Di’, oud’ ephrontisa.—Ranae, 492-3. +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + And here let me hint to the authors of the numerous parodies, and + pretended imitations of Mr. Wordsworth’s style, that at once to conceal + and convey wit and wisdom in the semblance of folly and dulness, as is + done in the Clowns and Fools, nay even in the Dogberry, of our + Shakespeare, is doubtless a proof of genius, or at all events of satiric + talent; but that the attempt to ridicule a silly and childish poem, by + writing another still sillier and still more childish, can only prove (if + it prove any thing at all) that the parodist is a still greater blockhead + than the original writer, and, what is far worse, a malignant coxcomb to + boot. The talent for mimicry seems strongest where the human race are most + degraded. The poor, naked half human savages of New Holland were found + excellent mimics: and, in civilized society, minds of the very lowest + stamp alone satirize by copying. At least the difference which must blend + with and balance the likeness, in order to constitute a just imitation, + existing here merely in caricature, detracts from the libeller’s heart, + without adding an iota to the credit of his understanding.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-20"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 20 (<a href="#linknoteref-20">return</a>)<br> [ — + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + The Butterfly the ancient Grecians made<br> + The soul’s fair emblem, and its only name—<br> + But of the soul, escaped the slavish trade<br> + Of mortal life! For to this earthly frame<br> + Ours is the reptile’s lot, much toil, much blame,<br> + Manifold motions making little speed,<br> + And to deform and kill the things whereon we feed.] +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-21"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 21 (<a href="#linknoteref-21">return</a>)<br> [ Mr. Wordsworth, even in + his two earliest poems, The Evening Walk and the Descriptive Sketches, is + more free from this latter defect than most of the young poets his + contemporaries. It may however be exemplified, together with the harsh and + obscure construction, in which he more often offended, in the following + lines:— + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “’Mid stormy vapours ever driving by,<br> + Where ospreys, cormorants, and herons cry;<br> + Where hardly given the hopeless waste to cheer,<br> + Denied the bread of life the foodful ear,<br> + Dwindles the pear on autumn’s latest spray,<br> + And apple sickens pale in summer’s ray;<br> + Ev’n here content has fixed her smiling reign<br> + With independence, child of high disdain.” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + I hope, I need not say, that I have quoted these lines for no other + purpose than to make my meaning fully understood. It is to be regretted + that Mr. Wordsworth has not republished these two poems entire.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-22"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 22 (<a href="#linknoteref-22">return</a>)<br> [ This is effected either + by giving to the one word a general, and to the other an exclusive use; as + “to put on the back” and “to indorse;” or by an actual distinction of + meanings, as “naturalist,” and “physician;” or by difference of relation, + as “I” and “Me” (each of which the rustics of our different provinces + still use in all the cases singular of the first personal pronoun). Even + the mere difference, or corruption, in the pronunciation of the same word, + if it have become general, will produce a new word with a distinct + signification; thus “property” and “propriety;” the latter of which, even + to the time of Charles II was the written word for all the senses of both. + There is a sort of minim immortal among the animalcula infusoria, which + has not naturally either birth, or death, absolute beginning, or absolute + end: for at a certain period a small point appears on its back, which + deepens and lengthens till the creature divides into two, and the same + process recommences in each of the halves now become integral. This may be + a fanciful, but it is by no means a bad emblem of the formation of words, + and may facilitate the conception, how immense a nomenclature may be + organized from a few simple sounds by rational beings in a social state. + For each new application, or excitement of the same sound, will call forth + a different sensation, which cannot but affect the pronunciation. The + after recollections of the sound, without the same vivid sensation, will + modify it still further till at length all trace of the original likeness + is worn away.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-23"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 23 (<a href="#linknoteref-23">return</a>)<br> [ I ought to have added, + with the exception of a single sheet which I accidentally met with at the + printer’s. Even from this scanty specimen, I found it impossible to doubt + the talent, or not to admire the ingenuity, of the author. That his + distinctions were for the greater part unsatisfactory to my mind, proves + nothing against their accuracy; but it may possibly be serviceable to him, + in case of a second edition, if I take this opportunity of suggesting the + query; whether he may not have been occasionally misled, by having + assumed, as to me he appears to have done, the non-existence of any + absolute synonymes in our language? Now I cannot but think, that there are + many which remain for our posterity to distinguish and appropriate, and + which I regard as so much reversionary wealth in our mother tongue. When + two distinct meanings are confounded under one or more words,—(and + such must be the case, as sure as our knowledge is progressive and of + course imperfect)—erroneous consequences will be drawn, and what is + true in one sense of the word will be affirmed as true in toto. Men of + research, startled by the consequences, seek in the things themselves—(whether + in or out of the mind)—for a knowledge of the fact, and having + discovered the difference, remove the equivocation either by the + substitution of a new word, or by the appropriation of one of the two or + more words, which had before been used promiscuously. When this + distinction has been so naturalized and of such general currency that the + language does as it were think for us—(like the sliding rule which + is the mechanic’s safe substitute for arithmetical knowledge)—we + then say, that it is evident to common sense. Common sense, therefore, + differs in different ages. What was born and christened in the Schools + passes by degrees into the world at large, and becomes the property of the + market and the tea-table. At least I can discover no other meaning of the + term, common sense, if it is to convey any specific difference from sense + and judgment in genere, and where it is not used scholastically for the + universal reason. Thus in the reign of Charles II the philosophic world + was called to arms by the moral sophisms of Hobbes, and the ablest writers + exerted themselves in the detection of an error, which a school-boy would + now be able to confute by the mere recollection, that compulsion and + obligation conveyed two ideas perfectly disparate, and that what + appertained to the one, had been falsely transferred to the other by a + mere confusion of terms.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-24"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 24 (<a href="#linknoteref-24">return</a>)<br> [ I here use the word idea + in Mr. Hume’s sense on account of its general currency amongst the English + metaphysicians; though against my own judgment, for I believe that the + vague use of this word has been the cause of much error and more + confusion. The word, idea, in its original sense as used by Pindar, + Aristophanes, and in the Gospel of St. Matthew, represented the visual + abstraction of a distant object, when we see the whole without + distinguishing its parts. Plato adopted it as a technical term, and as the + antithesis to eidolon, or sensuous image; the transient and perishable + emblem, or mental word, of the idea. Ideas themselves he considered as + mysterious powers, living, seminal, formative, and exempt from time. In + this sense the word Idea became the property of the Platonic school; and + it seldom occurs in Aristotle, without some such phrase annexed to it, as + according to Plato, or as Plato says. Our English writers to the end of + the reign of Charles II or somewhat later, employed it either in the + original sense, or Platonically, or in a sense nearly correspondent to our + present use of the substantive, Ideal; always however opposing it, more or + less to image, whether of present or absent objects. The reader will not + be displeased with the following interesting exemplification from Bishop + Jeremy Taylor. “St. Lewis the King sent Ivo Bishop of Chartres on an + embassy, and he told, that he met a grave and stately matron on the way + with a censer of fire in one band, and a vessel of water in the other; and + observing her to have a melancholy, religious, and phantastic deportment + and look, he asked her what those symbols meant, and what she meant to do + with her fire and water; she answered, My purpose is with the fire to burn + paradise, and with my water to quench the flames of hell, that men may + serve God purely for the love of God. But we rarely meet with such spirits + which love virtue so metaphysically as to abstract her from all sensible + compositions, and love the purity of the idea.” Des Cartes having + introduced into his philosophy the fanciful hypothesis of material ideas, + or certain configurations of the brain, which were as so many moulds to + the influxes of the external world,—Locke adopted the term, but + extended its signification to whatever is the immediate object of the + mind’s attention or consciousness. Hume, distinguishing those + representations which are accompanied with a sense of a present object + from those reproduced by the mind itself, designated the former by + impressions, and confined the word idea to the latter.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-25"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 25 (<a href="#linknoteref-25">return</a>)<br> [ I am aware, that this + word occurs neither in Johnson’s Dictionary nor in any classical writer. + But the word, to intend, which Newton and others before him employ in this + sense, is now so completely appropriated to another meaning, that I could + not use it without ambiguity: while to paraphrase the sense, as by render + intense, would often break up the sentence and destroy that harmony of the + position of the words with the logical position of the thoughts, which is + a beauty in all composition, and more especially desirable in a close + philosophical investigation. I have therefore hazarded the word, + intensify: though, I confess, it sounds uncouth to my own ear.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-26"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 26 (<a href="#linknoteref-26">return</a>)<br> [ And Coxcombs vanquish + Berkeley by a grin.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-27"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 27 (<a href="#linknoteref-27">return</a>)<br> [ Videlicet; Quantity, + Quality, Relation, and Mode, each consisting of three subdivisions. See + Kritik der reinen Vernunft. See too the judicious remarks on Locke and + Hume.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-28"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 28 (<a href="#linknoteref-28">return</a>)<br> [ St. Luke x. 21.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-29"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 29 (<a href="#linknoteref-29">return</a>)<br> [ An American Indian with + little variety of images, and a still scantier stock of language, is + obliged to turn his few words to many purposes, by likenesses so clear and + analogies so remote as to give his language the semblance and character of + lyric poetry interspersed with grotesques. Something not unlike this was + the case of such men as Behmen and Fox with regard to the Bible. It was + their sole armoury of expressions, their only organ of thought.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-30"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 30 (<a href="#linknoteref-30">return</a>)<br> [ The following burlesque + on the Fichtean Egoisnsus may, perhaps, be amusing to the few who have + studied the system, and to those who are unacquainted with it, may convey + as tolerable a likeness of Fichte’s idealism as can be expected from an + avowed caricature. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + The Categorical Imperative, or the annunciation of the new Teutonic God, + EGOENKAIPAN: a dithyrambic ode, by QUERKOPF VON KLUBSTICK, Grammarian, and + Subrector in Gymmasic. + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + Eu! Dei vices gerens, ipse Divus,<br> + (Speak English, Friend!) the God Imperativus,<br> + Here on this market-cross aloud I cry:<br> + I, I, I! I itself I!<br> + The form and the substance, the what and the why,<br> + The when and the where, and the low and the high,<br> + The inside and outside, the earth and the sky,<br> + I, you and he, and he, you and I,<br> + All souls and all bodies are I itself I!<br> + <span style="margin-left: 20em;"> All I itself I!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 20em;">(Fools! a truce with this starting!)</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 20em;">All my I! all my I!</span><br> + He’s a heretic dog who but adds Betty Martin!<br> + Thus cried the God with high imperial tone;<br> + In robe of stiffest state, that scoffed at beauty,<br> + A pronoun-verb imperative he shone—<br> + Then substantive and plural-singular grown<br> + He thus spake on! Behold in I alone<br> + (For ethics boast a syntax of their own)<br> + Or if in ye, yet as I doth depute ye,<br> + In O! I, you, the vocative of duty!<br> + I of the world’s whole Lexicon the root!<br> + Of the whole universe of touch, sound, sight<br> + The genitive and ablative to boot:<br> + The accusative of wrong, the nominative of right,<br> + And in all cases the case absolute!<br> + Self-construed, I all other moods decline:<br> + Imperative, from nothing we derive us;<br> + Yet as a super-postulate of mine,<br> + Unconstrued antecedence I assign<br> + To X, Y, Z, the God Infinitivus!] +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-31"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 31 (<a href="#linknoteref-31">return</a>)<br> [ It would be an act of + high and almost criminal injustice to pass over in silence the name of Mr. + Richard Saumarez, a gentleman equally well known as a medical man and as a + philanthropist, but who demands notice on the present occasion as the + author of “A new System of Physiology” in two volumes octavo, published + 1797; and in 1812 of “An Examination of the natural and artificial Systems + of Philosophy which now prevail” in one volume octavo, entitled, “The + Principles of physiological and physical Science.” The latter work is not + quite equal to the former in style or arrangement; and there is a greater + necessity of distinguishing the principles of the author’s philosophy from + his conjectures concerning colour, the atmospheric matter, comets, etc. + which, whether just or erroneous, are by no means necessary consequences + of that philosophy. Yet even in this department of this volume, which I + regard as comparatively the inferior work, the reasonings by which Mr. + Saumarez invalidates the immanence of an infinite power in any finite + substance are the offspring of no common mind; and the experiment on the + expansibility of the air is at least plausible and highly ingenious. But + the merit, which will secure both to the book and to the writer a high and + honourable name with posterity, consists in the masterly force of + reasoning, and the copiousness of induction, with which he has assailed, + and (in my opinion) subverted the tyranny of the mechanic system in + physiology; established not only the existence of final causes, but their + necessity and efficiency to every system that merits the name of + philosophical; and, substituting life and progressive power for the + contradictory inert force, has a right to be known and remembered as the + first instaurator of the dynamic philosophy in England. The author’s + views, as far as concerns himself, are unborrowed and completely his own, + as he neither possessed nor do his writings discover, the least + acquaintance with the works of Kant, in which the germs of the philosophy + exist: and his volumes were published many years before the full + development of these germs by Schelling. Mr. Saumarez’s detection of the + Braunonian system was no light or ordinary service at the time; and I + scarcely remember in any work on any subject a confutation so thoroughly + satisfactory. It is sufficient at this time to have stated the fact; as in + the preface to the work, which I have already announced on the Logos, I + have exhibited in detail the merits of this writer, and genuine + philosopher, who needed only have taken his foundation somewhat deeper and + wider to have superseded a considerable part of my labours.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-32"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 32 (<a href="#linknoteref-32">return</a>)<br> [ But for sundry notes on + Shakespeare, and other pieces which have fallen in my way, I should have + deemed it unnecessary to observe; that discourse here, or elsewhere does + not mean what we now call discoursing; but the discursion of the mind, the + processes of generalization and subsumption, of deduction and conclusion. + Thus, Philosophy has hitherto been discursive; while Geometry is always + and essentially intuitive.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-33"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 33 (<a href="#linknoteref-33">return</a>)<br> [ Revelation xx. 3.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-34"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 34 (<a href="#linknoteref-34">return</a>)<br> [ See Laing’s History of + Scotland.—Walter Scott’s bards, ballads, etc.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-35"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 35 (<a href="#linknoteref-35">return</a>)<br> [ Thus organization, and + motion are regarded as from God, not in God.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-36"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 36 (<a href="#linknoteref-36">return</a>)<br> [ Job, chap. xxviii.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-37"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 37 (<a href="#linknoteref-37">return</a>)<br> [ Wherever A=B, and A is + not=B, are equally demonstrable, the premise in each undeniable, the + induction evident, and the conclusion legitimate—the result must be, + either that contraries can both be true, (which is absurd,) or that the + faculty and forms of reasoning employed are inapplicable to the subject—i.e. + that there is a metabasis eis allo genos. Thus, the attributes of Space + and time applied to Spirit are heterogeneous—and the proof of this + is, that by admitting them explicite or implicite contraries may be + demonstrated true—i.e. that the same, taken in the same sense, is + true and not true.—That the world had a beginning in Time and a + bound in Space; and That the world had not a beginning and has no limit;—That + a self originating act is, and is not possible, are instances.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-38"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 38 (<a href="#linknoteref-38">return</a>)<br> [ To those, who design to + acquire the language of a country in the country itself, it may be useful, + if I mention the incalculable advantage which I derived from learning all + the words, that could possibly be so learned, with the objects before me, + and without the intermediation of the English terms. It was a regular part + of my morning studies for the first six weeks of my residence at + Ratzeburg, to accompany the good and kind old pastor, with whom I lived, + from the cellar to the roof, through gardens, farmyard, etc. and to call + every, the minutest, thing by its German name. Advertisements, farces, + jest books, and the conversation of children while I was at play with + them, contributed their share to a more home-like acquaintance with the + language than I could have acquired from works of polite literature alone, + or even from polite society. There is a passage of hearty sound sense in + Luther’s German Letter on interpretation, to the translation of which I + shall prefix, for the sake of those who read the German, yet are not + likely to have dipped often in the massive folios of this heroic reformer, + the simple, sinewy, idiomatic words of the original. “Denn man muss nicht + die Buchstaben in der Lateinischen Sprache fragen wie man soll Deutsch + reden: sondern man muss die Mutter in Hause, die Kinder auf den Gassen, + den gemeinen Mann auf dem Markte, darum fragen: und denselbigen auf das + Maul sehen wie sie reden, und darnach dolmetschen. So verstehen sie es + denn, und merken dass man Deutsch mit ihnen redet.” + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + TRANSLATION: + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + For one must not ask the letters in the Latin tongue, how one ought to + speak German; but one must ask the mother in the house, the children in + the lanes and alleys, the common man in the market, concerning this; yea, + and look at the moves of their mouths while they are talking, and + thereafter interpret. They understand you then, and mark that one talks + German with them.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-39"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 39 (<a href="#linknoteref-39">return</a>)<br> [ This paraphrase, written + about the time of Charlemagne, is by no means deficient in occasional + passages of considerable poetic merit. There is a flow, and a tender + enthusiasm in the following lines (at the conclusion of Chapter XI.) + which, even in the translation will not, I flatter myself, fail to + interest the reader. Ottfried is describing the circumstances immediately + following the birth of our Lord. + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + She gave with joy her virgin breast;<br> + She hid it not, she bared the breast,<br> + Which suckled that divinest babe!<br> + Blessed, blessed were the breasts<br> + Which the Saviour infant kiss’d;<br> + And blessed, blessed was the mother<br> + Who wrapp’d his limbs in swaddling clothes,<br> + Singing placed him on her lap,<br> + Hung o’er him with her looks of love,<br> + And sooth’d him with a lulling motion.<br> + Blessed; for she shelter’d him<br> + From the damp and chilling air;<br> + Blessed, blessed! for she lay<br> + With such a babe in one blest bed,<br> + Close as babes and mothers lie!<br> + Blessed, blessed evermore,<br> + With her virgin lips she kiss’d,<br> + With her arms, and to her breast<br> + She embraced the babe divine,<br> + Her babe divine the virgin mother!<br> + There lives not on this ring of earth<br> + A mortal, that can sing her praise.<br> + Mighty mother, virgin pure,<br> + In the darkness and the night<br> + For us she bore the heavenly Lord! +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + Most interesting is it to consider the effect, when the feelings are + wrought above the natural pitch by the belief of something mysterious, + while all the images are purely natural. Then it is, that religion and + poetry strike deepest.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-40"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 40 (<a href="#linknoteref-40">return</a>)<br> [ Lord Grenville has lately + re-asserted (in the House of Lords) the imminent danger of a revolution in + the earlier part of the war against France. I doubt not, that his Lordship + is sincere; and it must be flattering to his feelings to believe it. But + where are the evidences of the danger, to which a future historian can + appeal? Or must he rest on an assertion? Let me be permitted to extract a + passage on the subject from The Friend. “I have said that to withstand the + arguments of the lawless, the anti-Jacobins proposed to suspend the law, + and by the interposition of a particular statute to eclipse the blessed + light of the universal sun, that spies and informers might tyrannize and + escape in the ominous darkness. Oh! if these mistaken men, intoxicated + with alarm and bewildered by that panic of property, which they themselves + were the chief agents in exciting, had ever lived in a country where there + really existed a general disposition to change and rebellion! Had they + ever travelled through Sicily; or through France at the first coming on of + the revolution; or even alas! through too many of the provinces of a + sister island; they could not but have shrunk from their own declarations + concerning the state of feeling and opinion at that time predominant + throughout Great Britain. There was a time—(Heaven grant that that + time may have passed by!)—when by crossing a narrow strait, they + might have learned the true symptoms of approaching danger, and have + secured themselves from mistaking the meetings and idle rant of such + sedition, as shrank appalled from the sight of a constable, for the dire + murmuring and strange consternation which precedes the storm or earthquake + of national discord. Not only in coffee-houses and public theatres, but + even at the tables of the wealthy, they would have heard the advocates of + existing Government defend their cause in the language and with the tone + of men, who are conscious that they are in a minority. But in England, + when the alarm was at its highest, there was not a city, no, not a town or + village, in which a man suspected of holding democratic principles could + move abroad without receiving some unpleasant proof of the hatred in which + his supposed opinions were held by the great majority of the people; and + the only instances of popular excess and indignation were on the side of + the government and the established church. But why need I appeal to these + invidious facts? Turn over the pages of history and seek for a single + instance of a revolution having been effected without the concurrence of + either the nobles, or the ecclesiastics, or the monied classes, in any + country, in which the influences of property had ever been predominant, + and where the interests of the proprietors were interlinked! Examine the + revolution of the Belgic provinces under Philip II; the civil wars of + France in the preceding generation; the history of the American + revolution, or the yet more recent events in Sweden and in Spain; and it + will be scarcely possible not to perceive that in England from 1791 to the + peace of Amiens there were neither tendencies to confederacy nor actual + confederacies, against which the existing laws had not provided both + sufficient safeguards and an ample punishment. But alas! the panic of + property had been struck in the first instance for party purposes; and + when it became general, its propagators caught it themselves and ended in + believing their own lie; even as our bulls to Borrowdale sometimes run mad + with the echo of their own bellowing. The consequences were most + injurious. Our attention was concentrated on a monster, which could not + survive the convulsions, in which it had been brought forth,—even + the enlightened Burke himself too often talking and reasoning, as if a + perpetual and organized anarchy had been a possible thing! Thus while we + were warring against French doctrines, we took little heed whether the + means by which we attempted to overthrow them, were not likely to aid and + augment the far more formidable evil of French ambition. Like children we + ran away from the yelping of a cur, and took shelter at the heels of a + vicious war horse.” (Vol. II. Essay i. p. 21, 4th edit.)] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-41"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 41 (<a href="#linknoteref-41">return</a>)<br> [ I seldom think of the + murder of this illustrious Prince without recollecting the lines of + Valerius Flaccus: + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + ———super ipsius ingens<br> + Instat fama viri, virtusque haud laeta tyranno;<br> + Ergo anteire metus, juvenemque exstinguere pergit.<br> + <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Argonaut, I. 29.]</span><br> +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-42"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 42 (<a href="#linknoteref-42">return</a>)<br> [ — + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + Theara de kai ton chaena kai taen dorkada,<br> + Kai ton lagoon, kai to ton tauron genos.<br> + <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Manuel Phile, De Animal. Proprietat. sect. I. i. 12.]</span><br> +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-43"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 43 (<a href="#linknoteref-43">return</a>)<br> [ Paradise Regained. Book + IV. I. 261.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-44"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 44 (<a href="#linknoteref-44">return</a>)<br> [ Vita e Costumi di Dante.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-45"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 45 (<a href="#linknoteref-45">return</a>)<br> [ TRANSLATION: “With the + greatest possible solicitude avoid authorship. Too early or immoderately + employed, it makes the head waste and the heart empty; even were there no + other worse consequences. A person, who reads only to print, to all + probability reads amiss; and he, who sends away through the pen and the + press every thought, the moment it occurs to him, will in a short time + have sent all away, and will become a mere journeyman of the + printing-office, a compositor.” + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + To which I may add from myself, that what medical physiologists affirm of + certain secretions applies equally to our thoughts; they too must be taken + up again into the circulation, and be again and again re-secreted to order + to ensure a healthful vigour, both to the mind and to its intellectual + offspring.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-46"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 46 (<a href="#linknoteref-46">return</a>)<br> [ This distinction between + transcendental and transcendent is observed by our elder divines and + philosophers, whenever they express themselves scholastically. Dr. Johnson + indeed has confounded the two words; but his own authorities do not bear + him out. Of this celebrated dictionary I will venture to remark once for + all, that I should suspect the man of a morose disposition who should + speak of it without respect and gratitude as a most instructive and + entertaining book, and hitherto, unfortunately, an indispensable book; but + I confess, that I should be surprised at hearing from a philosophic and + thorough scholar any but very qualified praises of it, as a dictionary. I + am not now alluding to the number of genuine words omitted; for this is + (and perhaps to a greater extent) true, as Mr. Wakefield has noticed, of + our best Greek Lexicons, and this too after the successive labours of so + many giants in learning. I refer at present both to omissions and + commissions of a more important nature. What these are, me saltem judice, + will be stated at full in The Friend, re-published and completed. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + I had never heard of the correspondence between Wakefield and Fox till I + saw the account of it this morning (16th September 1815) in the Monthly + Review. I was not a little gratified at finding, that Mr. Wakefield had + proposed to himself nearly the same plan for a Greek and English + Dictionary, which I had formed, and began to execute, now ten years ago. + But far, far more grieved am I, that he did not live to complete it. I + cannot but think it a subject of most serious regret, that the same heavy + expenditure, which is now employing in the republication of STEPHANUS + augmented, had not been applied to a new Lexicon on a more philosophical + plan, with the English, German, and French synonymes as well as the Latin. + In almost every instance the precise individual meaning might be given in + an English or German word; whereas in Latin we must too often be contented + with a mere general and inclusive term. How indeed can it be otherwise, + when we attempt to render the most copious language of the world, the most + admirable for the fineness of its distinctions, into one of the poorest + and most vague languages? Especially when we reflect on the comparative + number of the works, still extant, written while the Greek and Latin were + living languages. Were I asked what I deemed the greatest and most unmixed + benefit, which a wealthy individual, or an association of wealthy + individuals could bestow on their country and on mankind, I should not + hesitate to answer, “a philosophical English dictionary; with the Greek, + Latin, German, French, Spanish, and Italian synonymes, and with + correspondent indexes.” That the learned languages might thereby be + acquired, better, in half the time, is but a part, and not the most + important part, of the advantages which would accrue from such a work. O! + if it should be permitted by Providence, that without detriment to freedom + and independence our government might be enabled to become more than a + committee for war and revenue! There was a time, when every thing was to + be done by Government. Have we not flown off to the contrary extreme?] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-47"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 47 (<a href="#linknoteref-47">return</a>)<br> [ April, 1825. If I did not + see it with my own eyes, I should not believe that I had been guilty of so + many hydrostatic Bulls as bellow in this unhappy allegory or string of + metaphors! How a river was to travel up hill from a vale far inward, over + the intervening mountains, Morpheus, the Dream weaver, can alone unriddle. + I am ashamed and humbled. S. T. Coleridge.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-48"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 48 (<a href="#linknoteref-48">return</a>)<br> [ Ennead, III. 8. 3. The + force of the Greek sunienai is imperfectly expressed by “understand;” our + own idiomatic phrase “to go along with me” comes nearest to it. The + passage, that follows, full of profound sense, appears to me evidently + corrupt; and in fact no writer more wants, better deserves, or is less + likely to obtain, a new and more correct edition-ti oun sunienai; oti to + genomenon esti theama emon, siopaesis (mallem, theama, emon sioposaes,) + kai physei genomenon theoraema, kai moi genomenae ek theorias taes odi, + taen physin echein philotheamona uparkei. (mallem, kai moi hae genomenae + ek theorias autaes odis). “What then are we to understand? That whatever + is produced is an intuition, I silent; and that, which is thus generated, + is by its nature a theorem, or form of contemplation; and the birth; which + results to me from this contemplation, attains to have a contemplative + nature.” So Synesius: + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + ‘Odis hiera<br> + ‘Arraeta gona +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + The after comparison of the process of the natura naturans with that of + the geometrician is drawn from the very heart of philosophy.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-49"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 49 (<a href="#linknoteref-49">return</a>)<br> [ This is happily effected + in three lines by Synesius, in his THIRD HYMN: + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + ‘En kai Pan’ta—(taken by itself) is Spinozism.<br> + ‘En d’ ’Apan’ton—a mere Anima Mundi.<br> + ‘En te pro panton—is mechanical Theism. +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + But unite all three, and the result is the Theism of Saint Paul and + Christianity. Synesius was censured for his doctrine of the pre- existence + of the soul; but never, that I can find, arraigned or deemed heretical for + his Pantheism, though neither Giordano Bruno, nor Jacob Behmen ever avowed + it more broadly. + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + Mystas de Noos,<br> + Ta te kai ta legei,<br> + Buthon arraeton<br> + Amphichoreuon.<br> + Su to tikton ephus, + Su to tiktomenon;<br> + Su to photizon,<br> + Su to lampomenon;<br> + Su to phainomenon,<br> + Su to kryptomenon<br> + Idiais augais.<br> + ‘En kai panta,<br> + ‘En kath’ heauto,<br> + Kai dia panton. +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + Pantheism is therefore not necessarily irreligious or heretical; though it + may be taught atheistically. Thus Spinoza would agree with Synesius in + calling God Physis en Noerois, the Nature in Intelligences; but he could + not subscribe to the preceding Nous kai noeros, i.e. Himself Intelligence + and intelligent. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + In this biographical sketch of my literary life I may be excused, if I + mention here, that I had translated the eight Hymns of Synesius from the + Greek into English Anacreontics before my fifteenth year.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-50"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 50 (<a href="#linknoteref-50">return</a>)<br> [ See Schell. Abhandl. zur + Erlaeuter. des Id. der Wissenschafslehre.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-51"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 51 (<a href="#linknoteref-51">return</a>)<br> [ Des Cartes, Diss. de + Methodo.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-52"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 52 (<a href="#linknoteref-52">return</a>)<br> [ The impossibility of an + absolute thing (substantia unica) as neither genus, species, nor + individuum: as well as its utter unfitness for the fundamental position of + a philosophic system, will be demonstrated in the critique on Spinozism in + the fifth treatise of my Logosophia.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-53"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 53 (<a href="#linknoteref-53">return</a>)<br> [ It is most worthy of + notice, that in the first revelation of himself, not confined to + individuals; indeed in the very first revelation of his absolute being, + Jehovah at the same time revealed the fundamental truth of all philosophy, + which must either commence with the absolute, or have no fixed + commencement; that is, cease to be philosophy. I cannot but express my + regret, that in the equivocal use of the word that, for in that, or + because, our admirable version has rendered the passage susceptible of a + degraded interpretation in the mind of common readers or hearers, as if it + were a mere reproof to an impertinent question, I am what I am, which + might be equally affirmed of himself by any existent being. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + The Cartesian Cogito ergo sum is objectionable, because either the Cogito + is used extra gradum, and then it is involved to the sum and is + tautological; or it is taken as a particular mode or dignity, and then it + is subordinated to the sum as the species to the genus, or rather as a + particular modification to the subject modified; and not pre- ordinated as + the arguments seem to require. For Cogito is Sum Cogitans. This is clear + by the inevidence of the converse. Cogitat, ergo est is true, because it + is a mere application of the logical rule: Quicquid in genere est, est et + in specie. Est (cogitans), ergo est. It is a cherry tree; therefore it is + a tree. But, est ergo cogitat, is illogical: for quod est in specie, non + NBCESSARIO in genere est. It may be true. I hold it to be true, that + quicquid vere est, est per veram sui affirmationem; but it is a + derivative, not an immediate truth. Here then we have, by anticipation, + the distinction between the conditional finite! (which, as known in + distinct consciousness by occasion of experience, is called by Kant’s + followers the empirical!) and the absolute I AM, and likewise the + dependence or rather the inherence of the former in the latter; in whom + “we live, and move, and have our being,” as St. Paul divinely asserts, + differing widely from the Theists of the mechanic school (as Sir J. + Newton, Locke, and others) who must say from whom we had our being, and + with it life and the powers of life.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-54"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 54 (<a href="#linknoteref-54">return</a>)<br> [ TRANSLATION. “Hence it is + clear, from what cause many reject the notion of the continuous and the + infinite. They take, namely, the words irrepresentable and impossible in + one and the same meaning; and, according to the forms of sensuous + evidence, the notion of the continuous and the infinite is doubtless + impossible. I am not now pleading the cause of these laws, which not a few + schools have thought proper to explode, especially the former (the law of + continuity). But it is of the highest importance to admonish the reader, + that those, who adopt so perverted a mode of reasoning, are under a + grievous error. Whatever opposes the formal principles of the + understanding and the reason is confessedly impossible; but not therefore + that, which is therefore not amenable to the forms of sensuous evidence, + because it is exclusively an object of pure intellect. For this + non-coincidence of the sensuous and the intellectual (the nature of which + I shall presently lay open) proves nothing more, but that the mind cannot + always adequately represent to the concrete, and transform into distinct + images, abstract notions derived from the pure intellect. But this + contradiction, which is in itself merely subjective (i.e. an incapacity in + the nature of man), too often passes for an incongruity or impossibility + in the object (i.e. the notions themselves), and seduces the incautious to + mistake the limitations of the human faculties for the limits of things, + as they really exist.” + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + I take this occasion to observe, that here and elsewhere Kant uses the + term intuition, and the verb active (intueri Germanice anschauen) for + which we have unfortunately no correspondent word, exclusively for that + which can be represented in space and time. He therefore consistently and + rightly denies the possibility of intellectual intuitions. But as I see no + adequate reason for this exclusive sense of the term, I have reverted to + its wider signification, authorized by our elder theologians and + metaphysicians, according to whom the term comprehends all truths known to + us without a medium. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + From Kant’s Treatise De mundi sensibilis et intelligibilis forma et + principiis. 1770.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-55"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 55 (<a href="#linknoteref-55">return</a>)<br> [ Franc. Baconis de + Verulam, NOVUM ORGANUM.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-56"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 56 (<a href="#linknoteref-56">return</a>)<br> [ This phrase, a priori, is + in common, most grossly misunderstood, and as absurdity burdened on it, + which it does not deserve. By knowledge a priori, we do not mean, that we + can know anything previously to experience, which would be a contradiction + in terms; but that having once known it by occasion of experience (that + is, something acting upon us from without) we then know, that it must have + existed, or the experience itself would have been impossible. By + experience only now, that I have eyes; but then my reason convinces me, + that I must have had eyes in order to the experience.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-57"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 57 (<a href="#linknoteref-57">return</a>)<br> [ Jer. Taylor’s Via Pacis.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-58"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 58 (<a href="#linknoteref-58">return</a>)<br> [ Par. Lost. Book V. I. + 469.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-59"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 59 (<a href="#linknoteref-59">return</a>)<br> [ Leibnitz. Op. T. II. P. + II. p. 53.—T. III. p. 321.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-60"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 60 (<a href="#linknoteref-60">return</a>)<br> [ Synesii Episcop. Hymn. + III. I. 231] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-61"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 61 (<a href="#linknoteref-61">return</a>)<br> [ ‘Anaer morionous, a + phrase which I have borrowed from a Greek monk, who applies it to a + Patriarch of Constantinople. I might have said, that I have reclaimed, + rather than borrowed, it: for it seems to belong to Shakespeare, de jure + singulari, et ex privilegio naturae.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-62"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 62 (<a href="#linknoteref-62">return</a>)<br> [ First published in 1803.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-63"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 63 (<a href="#linknoteref-63">return</a>)<br> [ These thoughts were + suggested to me during the perusal of the Madrigals of Giovambatista + Strozzi published in Florence in May, 1593, by his sons Lorenzo and + Filippo Strozzi, with a dedication to their paternal uncle, Signor Leone + Strozzi, Generale delle battaglie di Santa Chiesa. As I do not remember to + have seen either the poems or their author mentioned in any English work, + or to have found them in any of the common collections of Italian poetry; + and as the little work is of rare occurrence; I will transcribe a few + specimens. I have seldom met with compositions that possessed, to my + feelings, more of that satisfying entireness, that complete adequateness + of the manner to the matter which so charms us in Anacreon, joined with + the tenderness, and more than the delicacy of Catullus. Trifles as they + are, they were probably elaborated with great care; yet to the perusal we + refer them to a spontaneous energy rather than to voluntary effort. To a + cultivated taste there is a delight in perfection for its own sake, + independently of the material in which it is manifested, that none but a + cultivated taste can understand or appreciate. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + After what I have advanced, it would appear presumption to offer a + translation; even if the attempt were not discouraged by the different + genius of the English mind and language, which demands a denser body of + thought as the condition of a high polish, than the Italian. I cannot but + deem it likewise an advantage in the Italian tongue, in many other + respects inferior to our own, that the language of poetry is more distinct + from that of prose than with us. From the earlier appearance and + established primacy of the Tuscan poets, concurring with the number of + independent states, and the diversity of written dialects, the Italians + have gained a poetic idiom, as the Greeks before them had obtained from + the same causes with greater and more various discriminations, for + example, the Ionic for their heroic verses; the Attic for their iambic; + and the two modes of the Doric for the lyric or sacerdotal, and the + pastoral, the distinctions of which were doubtless more obvious to the + Greeks themselves than they are to us. + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + I will venture to add one other observation before I proceed to the + transcription. I am aware that the sentiments which I have avowed + concerning the points of difference between the poetry of the present age, + and that of the period between 1500 and 1650, are the reverse of the + opinion commonly entertained. I was conversing on this subject with a + friend, when the servant, a worthy and sensible woman, coming in, I placed + before her two engravings, the one a pinky-coloured plate of the day, the + other a masterly etching by Salvator Rosa from one of his own pictures. On + pressing her to tell us, which she preferred, after a little blushing and + flutter of feeling, she replied “Why, that, Sir, to be sure! (pointing to + the ware from the Fleet-street print shops);—it’s so neat and + elegant. T’other is such a scratchy slovenly thing.” An artist, whose + writings are scarcely less valuable than his pictures, and to whose + authority more deference will be willingly paid, than I could even wish + should be shown to mine, has told us, and from his own experience too, + that good taste must be acquired, and like all other good things, is the + result of thought and the submissive study of the best models. If it be + asked, “But what shall I deem such?”—the answer is; presume those to + be the best, the reputation of which has been matured into fame by the + consent of ages. For wisdom always has a final majority, if not by + conviction, yet by acquiescence. In addition to Sir J. Reynolds I may + mention Harris of Salisbury; who in one of his philosophical disquisitions + has written on the means of acquiring a just taste with the precision of + Aristotle, and the elegance of Quinctilian. + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + MADRIGALI.<br><br> + + Gelido suo ruscel chiaro, e tranquillo<br> + M’insegno Amor di state a mezzo’l giorno;<br> + Ardean le solve, ardean le piagge, e i colli.<br> + Ond’ io, ch’ al piu gran gielo ardo e sfavillo,<br> + Subito corsi; ma si puro adorno<br> + Girsene il vidi, che turbar no’l volli:<br> + Sol mi specchiava, e’n dolce ombrosa sponda<br> + Mi stava intento al mormorar dell’ onda.<br><br> + + Aure dell’ angoscioso viver mio<br> + Refrigerio soave,<br> + E dolce si, che piu non mi par grave<br> + Ne’l ardor, ne’l morir, anz’ il desio;<br> + Deh voil ghiaccio, e le nubi, e’l tempo rio<br> + Discacciatene omai, che londa chiara,<br> + E l’ombra non men cara<br> + A scherzare, a cantar per suoi boschetti,<br> + E prati festa et allegrezza alletti.<br><br> + + Pacifiche, ma spesso in amorosa<br> + Guerra co’fiori, e l’erba<br> + Alla stagione acerba<br> + Verdi insegne del giglio e della rosa,<br> + Movete, Aure, pian pian; che tregua o posa,<br> + Se non pace, io ritrove;<br> + E so ben dove:—Oh vago, a mansueto<br> + Sguardo, oh labbra d’ambrosia, oh rider, lieto! +<br><br> + Hor come un scoglio stassi,<br> + Hor come un rio se’n fugge,<br> + Ed hor crud’ orsa rugge,<br> + Hor canta angelo pio: ma che non fassi!<br> + E che non fammi, O sassi,<br> + O rivi, o belue, o Dii, questa mia vaga<br> + Non so, se ninfa, o magna,<br> + Non so, se donna, o Dea,<br> + Non so, se dolce o rea?<br><br> + + Piangendo mi baciaste,<br> + E ridendo il negaste:<br> + In doglia hebbivi pin,<br> + In festa hebbivi ria:<br> + Nacque gioia di pianti,<br> + Dolor di riso: O amanti<br> + Miseri, habbiate insieme<br> + Ognor paura e speme.<br><br> + + Bel Fior, tu mi rimembri<br> + La rugiadosa guancia del bet viso;<br> + E si vera l’assembri,<br> + Che’n te sovente, come in lei m’affiso:<br> + Et hor del vago riso,<br> + Hor del serene sguardo<br> + Io pur cieco riguardo. Ma qual fugge,<br> + O Rosa, il mattin lieve!<br> + E chi te, come neve,<br> + E’l mio cor teco, e la mia vita strugge!<br><br> + + Anna mia, Anna dolce, oh sempre nuovo<br> + E piu chiaro concento,<br> + Quanta dolcezza sento<br> + In sol Anna dicendo? Io mi pur pruovo,<br> + Ne qui tra noi ritruovo,<br> + Ne tra cieli armonia,<br> + Che del bel nome suo piu dolce sia:<br> + Altro il Cielo, altro Amore,<br> + Altro non suona l’Ecco del mio core.<br><br> + + Hor che’l prato, e la selva si scoiora,<br> + Al tuo serena ombroso<br> + Muovine, alto Riposo,<br> + Deh ch’io riposi una sol notte, un hora:<br> + Han le fere, e git augelli, ognun talora<br> + Ha qualche pace; io quando,<br> + Lasso! non vonne errando,<br> + E non piango, e non grido? e qual pur forte?<br> + Ma poiche, non sent’ egli, odine, Morte.<br><br> + + Risi e piansi d’Amor; ne pero mai<br> + Se non in fiamma, o’n onda, o’n vento scrissi<br> + Spesso msrce trovai<br> + Crudel; sempre in me morto, in altri vissi:<br> + Hor da’ piu scuri Abissi al ciel m’aizai,<br> + Hor ne pur caddi giuso;<br> + Stance al fin qui son chiuso.<br> +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-64"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 64 (<a href="#linknoteref-64">return</a>)<br> [ — + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “I’ve measured it from side to side;<br> + ’Tis three feet long, and two feet wide.”]<br> +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-65"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 65 (<a href="#linknoteref-65">return</a>)<br> [ — + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “Nay, rack your brain—’tis all in vain,<br> + I’ll tell you every thing I know;<br> + But to the Thorn, and to the Pond<br> + Which is a little step beyond,<br> + I wish that you would go:<br> + Perhaps, when you are at the place,<br> + You something of her tale may trace. +<br><br> + I’ll give you the best help I can<br> + Before you up the mountain go,<br> + Up to the dreary mountain-top,<br> + I’ll tell you all I know.<br> + ’Tis now some two-and-twenty years<br> + Since she (her name is Martha Ray)<br> + Gave, with a maiden’s true good will,<br> + Her company to Stephen Hill;<br> + And she was blithe and gay,<br> + And she was happy, happy still<br> + Whene’er she thought of Stephen Hill.<br><br> + + And they had fixed the wedding-day,<br> + The morning that must wed them both<br> + But Stephen to another maid<br> + Had sworn another oath;<br> + And, with this other maid, to church<br> + Unthinking Stephen went—<br> + Poor Martha! on that woeful day<br> + A pang of pitiless dismay<br> + Into her soul was sent;<br> + A fire was kindled in her breast,<br> + Which might not burn itself to rest.<br><br> + + They say, full six months after this,<br> + While yet the summer leaves were green,<br> + She to the mountain-top would go,<br> + And there was often seen;<br> + ’Tis said a child was in her womb,<br> + As now to any eye was plain;<br> + She was with child, and she was mad;<br> + Yet often she was sober sad<br> + From her exceeding pain.<br> + Oh me! ten thousand times I’d rather<br> + That he had died, that cruel father!<br> +<br> + * * * *<br> + * * * *<br> + * * * *<br> + * * * *<br><br> + + Last Christmas when they talked of this,<br> + Old Farmer Simpson did maintain,<br> + That in her womb the infant wrought<br> + About its mother’s heart, and brought<br> + Her senses back again:<br> + And, when at last her time drew near,<br> + Her looks were calm, her senses clear.<br><br> + + No more I know, I wish I did,<br> + And I would tell it all to you<br> + For what became of this poor child<br> + There’s none that ever knew<br> + And if a child was born or no,<br> + There’s no one that could ever tell;<br> + And if ’twas born alive or dead,<br> + There’s no one knows, as I have said:<br> + But some remember well,<br> + That Martha Ray about this time<br> + Would up the mountain often climb.”] +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-66"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 66 (<a href="#linknoteref-66">return</a>)<br> [ It is no less an error in + teachers, than a torment to the poor children, to enforce the necessity of + reading as they would talk. In order to cure them of singing as it is + called, that is, of too great a difference, the child is made to repeat + the words with his eyes from off the book; and then, indeed, his tones + resemble talking, as far as his fears, tears and trembling will permit. + But as soon as the eye is again directed to the printed page, the spell + begins anew; for an instinctive sense tells the child’s feelings, that to + utter its own momentary thoughts, and to recite the written thoughts of + another, as of another, and a far wiser than himself, are two widely + different things; and as the two acts are accompanied with widely + different feelings, so must they justify different modes of enunciation. + Joseph Lancaster, among his other sophistications of the excellent Dr. + Bell’s invaluable system, cures this fault of singing, by hanging fetters + and chains on the child, to the music of which one of his school-fellows, + who walks before, dolefully chants out the child’s last speech and + confession, birth, parentage, and education. And this soul-benumbing + ignominy, this unholy and heart-hardening burlesque on the last fearful + infliction of outraged law, in pronouncing the sentence to which the stern + and familiarized judge not seldom bursts into tears, has been extolled as + a happy and ingenious method of remedying—what? and how?—why, + one extreme in order to introduce another, scarce less distant from good + sense, and certainly likely to have worse moral effects, by enforcing a + semblance of petulant ease and self-sufficiency, in repression and + possible after-perversion of the natural feelings. I have to beg Dr. + Bell’s pardon for this connection of the two names, but he knows that + contrast is no less powerful a cause of association than likeness.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-67"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 67 (<a href="#linknoteref-67">return</a>)<br> [ Altered from the + description of Night-Mair in the REMORSE. + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “Oh Heaven! ’twas frightful! Now ran down and stared at<br> + By hideous shapes that cannot be remembered;<br> + Now seeing nothing and imagining nothing;<br> + But only being afraid—stifled with fear!<br> + While every goodly or familiar form<br> + Had a strange power of spreading terror round me!” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + N.B.—Though Shakespeare has, for his own all justifying purposes, + introduced the Night-Mare with her own foals, yet Mair means a Sister, or + perhaps a Hag.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-68"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 68 (<a href="#linknoteref-68">return</a>)<br> [ But still more by the + mechanical system of philosophy which has needlessly infected our + theological opinions, and teaching us to consider the world in its + relation to god, as of a building to its mason, leaves the idea of + omnipresence a mere abstract notion in the stateroom of our reason.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-69"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 69 (<a href="#linknoteref-69">return</a>)<br> [ As the ingenious + gentleman under the influence of the Tragic Muse contrived to dislocate, + “I wish you a good morning, Sir! Thank you, Sir, and I wish you the same,” + into two blank-verse heroics:— + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + To you a morning good, good Sir! I wish.<br> + You, Sir! I thank: to you the same wish I. +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + In those parts of Mr. Wordsworth’s works which I have thoroughly studied, + I find fewer instances in which this would be practicable than I have met + to many poems, where an approximation of prose has been sedulously and on + system guarded against. Indeed excepting the stanzas already quoted from + THE SAILOR’S MOTHER, I can recollect but one instance: that is to say, a + short passage of four or five lines in THE BROTHERS, that model of English + pastoral, which I never yet read with unclouded eye.—“James, + pointing to its summit, over which they had all purposed to return + together, informed them that he would wait for them there. They parted, + and his comrades passed that way some two hours after, but they did not + find him at the appointed place, <i>a circumstance of which they took no + heed:</i> but one of them, going by chance into the house, which at this + time was James’s house, learnt <i>there,</i> that nobody had seen him all + that day.” The only change which has been made is in the position of the + little word there in two instances, the position in the original being + clearly such as is not adopted in ordinary conversation. The other words + printed in italics were so marked because, though good and genuine + English, they are not the phraseology of common conversation either in the + word put in apposition, or in the connection by the genitive pronoun. Men + in general would have said, “but that was a circumstance they paid no + attention to, or took no notice of;” and the language is, on the theory of + the preface, justified only by the narrator’s being the Vicar. Yet if any + ear could suspect, that these sentences were ever printed as metre, on + those very words alone could the suspicion have been grounded.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-70"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 70 (<a href="#linknoteref-70">return</a>)<br> [ I had in my mind the + striking but untranslatable epithet, which the celebrated Mendelssohn + applied to the great founder of the Critical Philosophy “Der + alleszermalmende KANT,” that is, the all-becrushing, or rather the + all-to-nothing-crushing Kant. In the facility and force of compound + epithets, the German from the number of its cases and inflections + approaches to the Greek, that language so + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “Bless’d in the happy marriage of sweet words.” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + It is in the woful harshness of its sounds alone that the German need + shrink from the comparison.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-71"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 71 (<a href="#linknoteref-71">return</a>)<br> [ Sammlung einiger + Abhandlungen von Christian Garve.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-72"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 72 (<a href="#linknoteref-72">return</a>)<br> [ Sonnet IX.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-73"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 73 (<a href="#linknoteref-73">return</a>)<br> [ Mr. Wordsworth’s having + judiciously adopted “concourse wild” in this passage for “a wild scene” as + it stood to the former edition, encourages me to hazard a remark, which I + certainly should not have made in the works of a poet less austerely + accurate in the use of words, than he is, to his own great honour. It + respects the propriety of the word, “scene,” even in the sentence in which + it is retained. Dryden, and he only in his more careless verses, was the + first, as far as my researches have discovered, who for the convenience of + rhyme used this word in the vague sense, which has been since too current + even in our best writers, and which (unfortunately, I think) is given as + its first explanation in Dr. Johnson’s Dictionary and therefore would be + taken by an incautious reader as its proper sense. In Shakespeare and + Milton the word is never used without some clear reference, proper or + metaphorical, to the theatre. Thus Milton: + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “Cedar, and pine, and fir, and branching palm<br> + A sylvan scene; and, as the ranks ascend<br> + Shade above shade, a woody theatre<br> + Of stateliest view.” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + I object to any extension of its meaning, because the word is already more + equivocal than might be wished; inasmuch as to the limited use, which I + recommend, it may still signify two different things; namely, the scenery, + and the characters and actions presented on the stage during the presence + of particular scenes. It can therefore be preserved from obscurity only by + keeping the original signification full in the mind. Thus Milton again, + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + ———“Prepare thee for another scene.”] +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-74"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 74 (<a href="#linknoteref-74">return</a>)<br> [ — + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + Which Copland scarce had spoke, but quickly every hill,<br> + Upon her verge that stands, the neighbouring vallies fill;<br> + Helvillon from his height, it through the mountains threw,<br> + From whom as soon again, the sound Dunbalrase drew,<br> + From whose stone-trophied head, it on the Windross went,<br> + Which tow’rds the sea again, resounded it to Dent.<br> + That Brodwater, therewith within her banks astound,<br> + In sailing to the sea, told it to Egremound,<br> + Whose buildings, walks, and streets, with echoes loud and long,<br> + Did mightily commend old Copland for her song.<br> + <span style="margin-left: 20em;">Drayton’s POLYOLBION: Song XXX.]</span><br> +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-75"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 75 (<a href="#linknoteref-75">return</a>)<br> [ Translation. It behoves + me to side with my friends, but only as far as the gods.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-76"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 76 (<a href="#linknoteref-76">return</a>)<br> [ “Slender. I bruised my + shin with playing with sword and dagger for a dish of stewed prunes, and + by my troth I cannot abide the smell of hot meat since.”—So again, + Evans. “I will make an end of my dinner: there’s pippins and cheese to + come.”] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-77"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 77 (<a href="#linknoteref-77">return</a>)<br> [ This was accidentally + confirmed to me by an old German gentleman at Helmstadt, who had been + Klopstock’s school and bed-fellow. Among other boyish anecdotes, he + related that the young poet set a particular value on a translation of the + PARADISE LOST, and always slept with it under his pillow.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-78"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 78 (<a href="#linknoteref-78">return</a>)<br> [ Klopstock’s observation + was partly true and partly erroneous. In the literal sense of his words, + and, if we confine the comparison to the average of space required for the + expression of the same thought in the two languages, it is erroneous. I + have translated some German hexameters into English hexameter; and find, + that on the average three English lines will express four lines German. + The reason is evident: our language abounds in monosyllables and + dissyllables. The German, not less than the Greek, is a polysyllable + language. But in another point of view the remark was not without + foundation. For the German possessing the same unlimited privilege of + forming compounds, both with prepositions and with epithets, as the Greek, + it can express the richest single Greek word in a single German one, and + is thus freed from the necessity of weak or ungraceful paraphrases. I will + content myself with one at present, viz. the use of the prefixed + participles ver, zer, ent, and weg: thus reissen to rend, verreissen to + rend away, zerreissen to rend to pieces, entreissen to rend off or out of + a thing, in the active sense: or schmelzen to melt—ver, zer, ent, + schmelzen—and in like manner through all the verbs neuter and + active. If you consider only how much we should feel the loss of the + prefix be, as in bedropt, besprinkle, besot, especially in our poetical + language, and then think that this same mode of composition is carved + through all their simple and compound prepositions, and many of their + adverbs; and that with most of these the Germans have the same privilege + as we have of dividing them from the verb and placing them at the end of + the sentence; you will have no difficulty in comprehending the reality and + the cause of this superior power in the German of condensing meaning, in + which its great poet exulted. It is impossible to read half a dozen pages + of Wieland without perceiving that in this respect the German has no rival + but the Greek. And yet I feel, that concentration or condensation is not + the happiest mode of expressing this excellence, which seems to consist + not so much in the less time required for conveying an impression, as in + the unity and simultaneousness with which the impression is conveyed. It + tends to make their language more picturesque: it depictures images + better. We have obtained this power in part by our compound verbs derived + from the Latin: and the sense of its great effect no doubt induced our + Milton both to the use and the abuse of Latin derivatives. But still these + prefixed particles, conveying no separate or separable meaning to the mere + English reader, cannot possibly act on the mind with the force or + liveliness of an original and homogeneous language such as the German is, + and besides are confined to certain words.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-79"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 79 (<a href="#linknoteref-79">return</a>)<br> [ Praecludere calumniam, in + the original.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-80"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 80 (<a href="#linknoteref-80">return</a>)<br> [ Better thus: Forma + specifica per formam individualem translucens: or better yet—Species + individualisata, sive Individuum cuilibet Speciei determinatae in omni + parte correspondens et quasi versione quadam eam interpretans et + repetens.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-81"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 81 (<a href="#linknoteref-81">return</a>)<br> [ — + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + ———“The big round tears<br> + Cours’d one another down his innocent nose<br> + In piteous chase,” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + says Shakespeare of a wounded stag hanging its head over a stream: + naturally, from the position of the head, and most beautifully, from the + association of the preceding image, of the chase, in which “the poor + sequester’d stag from the hunter’s aim had ta’en a hurt.” In the supposed + position of Bertram, the metaphor, if not false, loses all the propriety + of the original.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-82"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 82 (<a href="#linknoteref-82">return</a>)<br> [ Among a number of other + instances of words chosen without reason, Imogine in the first act + declares, that thunder-storms were not able to intercept her prayers for + “the desperate man, in desperate ways who dealt”—— + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “Yea, when the launched bolt did sear her sense,<br> + Her soul’s deep orisons were breathed for him;” +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + that is, when a red-hot bolt, launched at her from a thunder-cloud, had + cauterized her sense, to plain English, burnt her eyes out of her head, + she kept still praying on. + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + “Was not this love? Yea, thus doth woman love!”] +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-83"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 83 (<a href="#linknoteref-83">return</a>)<br> [ This sort of repetition + is one of this writers peculiarities, and there is scarce a page which + does not furnish one or more instances—Ex. gr. in the first page or + two. Act I, line 7th, “and deemed that I might sleep.”—Line 10, “Did + rock and quiver in the bickering glare.”—Lines 14, 15, 16, “But by + the momently gleams of sheeted blue, Did the pale marbles dare so sternly + on me, I almost deemed they lived.”—Line 37, “The glare of Hell.”—Line + 35, “O holy Prior, this is no earthly storm.”—Line 38, “This is no + earthly storm.”—Line 42, “Dealing with us.”—Line 43, “Deal + thus sternly:”—Line 44, “Speak! thou hast something seen?”—“A + fearful sight!”—Line 45, “What hast thou seen! A piteous, fearful + sight.”—Line 48, “quivering gleams.”—Line 50, “In the hollow + pauses of the storm.”—Line 61, “The pauses of the storm, etc.”] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-84"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 84 (<a href="#linknoteref-84">return</a>)<br> [ The child is an important + personage, for I see not by what possible means the author could have + ended the second and third acts but for its timely appearance. How + ungrateful then not further to notice its fate!] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-85"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 85 (<a href="#linknoteref-85">return</a>)<br> [ Classically too, as far + as consists with the allegorizing fancy of the modern, that still striving + to project the inward, contradistinguishes itself from the seeming ease + with which the poetry of the ancients reflects the world without. Casimir + affords, perhaps, the most striking instance of this characteristic + difference.—For his style and diction are really classical: while + Cowley, who resembles Casimir in many respects, completely barbarizes his + Latinity, and even his metre, by the heterogeneous nature of his thoughts. + That Dr. Johnson should have passed a contrary judgment, and have even + preferred Cowley’s Latin Poems to Milton’s, is a caprice that has, if I + mistake not, excited the surprise of all scholars. I was much amused last + summer with the laughable affright, with which an Italian poet perused a + page of Cowley’s Davideis, contrasted with the enthusiasm with which he + first ran through, and then read aloud, Milton’s Mansus and Ad Patrem.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-86"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 86 (<a href="#linknoteref-86">return</a>)<br> [ Flectit, or if the metre + had allowed, premit would have supported the metaphor better.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p> + <a id="linknote-87"> + <!-- Note --> </a> + </p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 87 (<a href="#linknoteref-87">return</a>)<br> [ Poor unlucky + Metaphysicks! and what are they? A single sentence expresses the object + and thereby the contents of this science. Gnothi seauton: + </p> + <p> + </p> +<p class="pre"> + <span style="margin-left: 20em;">Nosce te ipsum,</span><br> + Tuque Deum, quantum licet, inque Deo omnia noscas.] +</p> + <p> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + Know thyself: and so shalt thou know God, as far as is permitted to a + creature, and in God all things.—Surely, there is a strange—nay, + rather too natural—aversion to many to know themselves.] + </p> + <p> + </p> + <div style="height: 6em;"> + <br><br><br><br><br><br> + </div> + <p> + </p> + +<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BIOGRAPHIA LITERARIA ***</div> +<div style='text-align:left'> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will +be renamed. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. 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