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    And that a needful part , in making up The calm existence that is mine when I Am worthy of myself ; Praise to the end !" The influences he records are mostly Nature ' s : — «• Not with the mean and vulgar works of man , But with high objects , with enduring- things"With life and nature , purifying thus The elements of feeling and of thought , And sanctifying , by such discipline , Both pain and fear , until we recognise A grandeur in the beatings of the heart . Nor was this fellowship vouchsafed to me With stinted kindness . In November days , "When vapours rolling down the valley made A lonely scene more lonesome , among woods , At noon and ' mid the calm of summer nights . When , by the margin of the trembling lake , Beneath the gloomy hills homeward I went In solitude , such intercourse was mine ; Mine was it in the fields both day and night . And by the waters , all the summer long . ' Then follows the loveliest passage in the volumethe description of skating—but as it has long been known by its publication in The Friend , -we must pass it over . This is in the same spirit : — " The seasons came , And every season , wheresoe ' er 1 moved , Unfolded transitory qualities , "Which , but for this most watchful power of love . Had been neglected ; left a register Of permanent relations , else unknown . Hence life , and change , and beauty , solitude More active even than ' best society *—Society made sweet as solitude By silent inobtrusive sympathies . And gentle agitations of the mind Yrom manifold distinctions , difference Perceived in things , where , to the unwatchful eye , Uo difference is , and hence , from the same source , Sublimer joy ; for I would walk alone , Under the quiet stars , and at that time Have felt whate ' er there is of power in sound To breathe an elevated mood , by form Or image unprofaned ; and I would stand , If the night blackened tyith a coming storm , Beneath some rock , listening to notes that are The ghostly language of the ancient earth , Or make their dim abode in distant wind ? . Thence did 1 drink the visionary power ; And deem not profitless those fleeting moods Of shadowy exultation : not for this , That they are kindred to our purer mind And intellectual life ; but that the soul , Remembering how she felt , but what she felt Remembering not , retains an obscure sense Of possible sublimity , whereto "With growing faculties she doth aspire , "With faculties still growing , feeling still That , whatsoever point they gain , they yet Have something to pursue . " If the reader wishes to appreciate the poverty of The Prelude let him compare the two books on Cambridge and London with De Quincey ' s chapters on Oxford and London , in his ' Autobiography of the Opium Eater : " he will find more poetry as well as more philosophy in the magnificent prose of the latter than in all this very blank verse . Indeed these books—London especially—treat of subjects too grand in compass and too human in modulation for Wordsworth ' s one-stringed lyre ; and he fails miserably in touching them . The current of to-day happens to set towards University Reform , and Wordsworth's condemnation of Cambridge , though essentially mediocre , is quoted with interest to serve party purposes ; but no accident thus favours the " London" book , and all readers must be struck with the singular incapacity of this philosophic poet to deal with so grand a topic , and must observe how he eludes its greatness to dwell upon the merest trivialities . " Summer Vacation " leads us back again into the country , and there he is at home . How beautiful is this comparison : — " As one who hangs down-bending from the side Of a flow-moving boat , upon the breast Of a still water , solacing himself With such discoveries as his eye can make Beneath him in the bottom of the deep . Sees many beauteous sights—weeds , fishes , flowers , Grots , pebbles , roots oArees , and fancies more , Yet often is perplexed , and cannot part ' The shadow from the substance , rocks and sky , Mountains and clouds , reflected in the depth Of the clear flood , from things which there nbide In their true dwelling ; now is crossed by gleam Of his own image , by a sunbeam now , And wavering motions sent he known not whence , Impediments that make his task more sweet ; Such pleasant office have we long pursued Incumbent o ' er the surface of past time With like success , nor often have appeared Shapes fairer or less doubtfully discerned Than these to which the Tale , indulgent Friend ! Would now direct Ihy notice . " The close of the book is very characteristic of his t endency to make trifles important by the solemnity of his treatment . He devotes four pages to excite a thrill and awe respecting an old soldier whom he met at night—you expect some tragic story is about to be evolved , or some great moral illustrated—and after all ic resolves itself into a mere casual meeting and parting of two strangers . Book fifth is devoted to Books , and is very fine ; we might quote the whole , did pace permit , and not be tedious . One passage we must give : — " Oh ] give ui onee again the wiihing-cap Of Fortun » tu » , and the invisible coat

    Of Jack the Giant-killer , Robin Hood , And Sabra in the forest with St . George ! The child , whose love is here , at least , doth reap One precious gain , that he forgets himself . ' * And this : — " The tales that charm away the wakeful night In Araby , romances ; legends penned For solace by dim light of monkish lamps ; Fictions , for ladies of their love , devised By youthful squires ; adventures endless , spun By the dismantled warrior in old age , Out of the bowels of those very schemes In which his youth did first e * travagate ; These spread like day , and something in the shape Of these will live till man shall be no more . Dumb yearnings , hidden appetites , are our * , And they must have their food . " The book entitled " Love of Nature leading to love of Man , " may be said to resume the cardinal points of his philosophy , which is nothing else than the wretched absurdity that man , to keep himself pure and pious , should shun cities and the haunts of men , to shut himself in mountain solitudes , and there , amidst the roaring cataracts and glidingstreams , impregnate his mind with , the solemnities and beauties of landscape nature—an ignoble , sensuous asceticism , replacing by an artistic enthusiasm and craving lusts of the eye that religious enthusiasm which moved the ancient recluse to tear himself from man and commune in loneliness with the Eternal : ¦* - " If this be error , and another faith Find easier access to the pious mind . Yet were I grossly destitute of all Those human sentiments that make this earth . So dear , if I should fail with grateful voice To speak of you , ye mountains , and ye lakes And sounding cataracts , ye mists and winds That dwell among the hills where I was born . If in my youth I have been pure in heart , If , mingling with the world , I am content With my own modest pleasures , and have lived With God and Nature communing , removed From little enmities and low desires , The gift is yours ; if in these times of fear . This melancholy waste of hopes o ' er thrown . If , ' mid indifference and apathy . And wicked exultation when good men On every side fall off , we know not how , To selfishness , disguised in gentle names Of peace and quiet and domestic love . Yet mingled not unwillingly with sneers On visionary minds ; if , in this time Of dereliction and dismay , I yet '¦ Despair not of our nature , but retain A more than Roman confidence , a faith That fails not , in all sorrow my support , " The blessing of my life ; the gift is yours . Ye winds and sounding cataracts ! ' tis yours . Ye mountains ! thine , O Nature ! Thou hast fed My lofty speculations ; and in thee . For this uneasy heart of ours , I find A never-failing principle of joy And purest passion . " Thus , if men are sunk in apathy and indifference , your task is not to reawaken the great enthusiasms which once animated them , nor to withdraw the veil from those awful forms of Truth and Justice which dwell in every heart as in a temple ; no , you must leave them to their apathy , and learn from sounding cataracts and winding mists all the lofty speculations that may secure your own salvation ! In this eighth Book he plainly states—that which indeed we knew before—how human beings first became interesting to him when he learned to look at them as picturesque ! he loved them something better than his dog , a little less than the rocks and sounding cataracts : — " Nature , prized For her own sake , became my joy , even then—And upwards through late youth , until not less Than two-and-twenty summers had been told—r Was Man in my affections and regards Subordinate to her , her visible forms And viewless agencies : a passion , she , A rapture often , and immediate love Ever at hand ; he , only a delight Occasional , an accidental grace , Hid hour being not yet come . " It never came ! He made his soul a verse-making machine , treating humanity as " materials . " Throughout this retrospect of a life he never softens with one deeply-felt affection , never hints that any one human being profoundly mingled with his life , modifying it , directing it , strengthening it ! A few bald lines record that Calvert gave him independence —but there are no lines tremulous with tenderness towards any human being save his sister ! With all this tenderness for Nature not a heart-beat for Man ! As in Turner ' s pictures the pencil lingers fondly over water , skies , atmosphere , or light , while a few hasty indistinct scratches are given to the human figures , so in Wordsworth , Landscape Nature absorbs Human Nature . To judge from Wordsworth ' s example we should say that Nature was not the best of teachers , —that cataracts and murmuring streams inculcate a spirit of intense selfishness , giving us a taste for the indolent enjoyment of meditative moods , and shutting from our view the grand ideal of a Noble Life . Such Landscape Nature left Wordsworth , if it did not

    make him such ; a man more arrogant , narrowminded , and selfish than any poet we ever heard # f | In another , and purely critical , aspect the part assigned to Nature is an aesthetic fault , which we , may be pardoned for indicating ere we close . The feelings with which men regard Nature , as the symr bolic reflection of human emotions , or as the language in which God delivers himself to man , the whole range of sentiment , in short , wbiph fn modern poetry relates to Naturewas unknown to the ancients , as

    , Schiller ( in his «• Essay on Naive and Sentimental Poetry" ) and subsequently Humboldt ( jn "Cosmos" ) have abundantly proved . Landscape , wUh ancient poets as well as with the early painters , formed but the background for humanity . In the moderns this background has gradually assumed a greater and greater encroachment upon the foreground , till , in Wordsworth , it has completely inverted the ancient order . This is not a healthy sytnptpm in art . Whenever accessories become elevated into principals , jt w

    a sign of a false estimate of art ; and this is the invariable tendency of inferior artists . Thus , we see in German musicians harmony and- orchestral effects predominating over melody and dramatic effects . And although no one will deny the increased power of modern poetry derived frpja its saturation with this sentiment of Nature ' s grandeur and lovelir , ness , yet , after all , the Human Soul must ever remain the chief object of Art , and Nature itself 9 * $ ? become interesting in as far as it if associated w \ tik

    man . To recur to our musical illustration , let us compare the introduction of the sentiment for Nature , in its profound modification of our poetry , p > the ) introduction of moving basses made by ^ Carissimj whereby the domain of musical expression was so inexpressibly enlarged ; without the moving bass what stupendous choral and orchestral effects wpul $ have been undreamt of , what gloom and grandeur

    uncreated ! Nevertheless , to give predominance to moving basses over melodies would be to destroy music : and something of tha * error is committed by Wordsworth ; but he is preserved from its full consequences by his own intense personality , which is always present to us and keeps up our interest , and by our own associations of personal experience with the phenomena he describes .

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    KAY ' S SOCIAL CONDITION OF ENGLAND . TJie Social Condition and Education of the People in England and Europe . By Joseph Kay , Esq ., M . A . 8 vols . Longman and Co . ( Second Notice . ) In returning to this invaluable work we must again observe that the two subjects it discusses really are

    the two most important of all for the welfare of the nation ; facilities for the acquisition of land , and the necessity of national education—food for the body and food for the soul—implying a thorough renovation of our social state , though Mr . Kay thinks they would be the most powerful conservatives . He shows from an amount of evidence perfectly overwhelming that the combined influence of peasant proprietorship

    and national education is the readiest means of securing the well-being of the people . Having accepted his position , you wish to see something of the kind introduced into England ; but at the the first step you take there is an obstacle such as must damp your ardour—we mean the state of the law . " In Great Britain and Ireland the laws relating to property in land are either the direct creations of the feudal system , or modifications of that system , varying in character as little as the change of times and circum-Rtances will allow . They form one of the most difficult

    and intricate parts of our jurisprudence , being compounded of ancient feudal regulations , couched in quaint and technical language , of modifications engrafted upon the old system by the monastic orders , and of statutes modifying the stringency of the old restrictive laws , or restraining the liberality of the monastic interpretations . " They are so technical , and are baaed upon so much antiquated learning , and upon bo many almost forgotten customs , that it is quite impossible for any one , who has not made himself master of a great deal of the old learning connected with them , to understand them . If a

    system had been expressly devised , in order to keep every one but the studious part of the legal profession ignorant of its objects and meaning , none could have been better fitted to effect , this end than our present landed property laws . It is most astonishing that , in this age of reforms , no one has attempted to codify and simplify these laws . When we see the beautiful simplicity and clearness of the foreign codes , enabling any unprofessional person to understand their general meaning and effect ; and when we look at our own system , which keeps every one , but a part of the legal profession , in absolute darkness as to the rights and privileges of an owner of land , which often renders it very difficult and expensive for a pro-

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    Ava . 17 , 1850 . ] «!» * **«*« # ? 497 - - - - ——————— ^—^————^—^^^—

• Citation
  • Leader (1850-1860), Aug. 17, 1850, page 497, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse.ac.uk/periodicals/l/issues/vm2-ncseproduct1850/page/17/