always in the direction of some romantic spot-a lonely island, where stood the ruins of a sacred shrine, or where the over-arching trees threw a solemn shade, and the lilies of the valley bloomed; or perhaps a brighter spot, and the victory or defeat in the contest was forgotten amid the association of the "selected" bourne." "In such a race So ended, disappointment could be none, We rested in the plain, all pleased alike, So long as the boy could indulge in this innocent enjoy ment of nature's beauty he was happy. Everything around him was instinct with life, and seemed to hold converse with his soul. The placid lakes and frowning peaks, the lowering thunder-cloud and the soft 9 zephyrs of a summer's evening, the hardiest oak and the tenderest blossom, had each its message to him. They were his counsellors and friends. In 1783 his father died, and the young poet-for he had already commenced to write-was placed under the charge of his uncle. Four years later, having completed his seventeenth year, he went to Cambridge, and was entered at St. John's College. During his last college vacation, the autumn of 1790, he made a tour through France and Switzerland, and, like all the poets of the day, he drank in the 10 revolutionary impulse. Towards the end of 1791 he again visited France. At Paris and Orleans he watched with close attention the stirring events of that exciting time, mingling with his enthusiasm a sad regret that no fit leader had yet been found to restrain and guide the anger of the people. In 1796, Wordsworth made the acquaintance of Coleridge; and so pleased were the two poets with each other's society, that Wordsworth and his sister settled at Alfoxden, Somersetshire, so as to be near Coleridge, whose home was at Nether Stowey. Here the poets were able to converse together as much as they pleased upon the subjects dear to them both. Neither of them was satisfied with the popular school of poetry; they deemed it unreal and artificial, and felt that a protest must be made against it. With this view the plan was arranged of writing the "Lyrical Ballads, in which both the poets were to express in simple language the simple feelings of ordinary everyday life. These ballads were published in 1798. They were chiefly written by Wordsworth, and comprised some of the simplest of his efforts. Occasionally, perhaps, there was an affected childishness, which partly justified the censure that was so freely bestowed upon them; but it was only in a few instances that the complaint could fairly be made, while in each there was a real beauty which the inconsiderate critics entirely ignored. There is, perhaps, none of them that has been more laughed at than the familiar story We are Seven; but we shall look in vain to the more 12 pretentious efforts of other poets for anything which shall more 13 felicitously express the utter inability of childhood to realize the meaning of death. 6 13 1 Carlyle, Thomas Carlyle, see App. 2ecstatic, rapturous; delightful beyond measure; excessively joyful. 3attorney, lawyer; one qualified to transact law business for another. 'lore, learning. autobiographical, giving an account of his own life. • Derwent, a river in Cumberland. shrine, a case, box, or receptacle, in which sacred relics are deposited; hence any sacred or hallowed place; an altar; a church. bourne, or bourn, the spot chosen for a visit; hence the goal, limit, or boundary of their rowing contest. zephyr, properly the west wind; but also any soft gentle wind. 10 revolutionary, pertaining to a revolution in government. This was the period of the great French Revolution. "lyrical, verses fitted to be sung to the lyre, or any musical instrument. 12 pretentious, full of pretensions, or laying claim to more than is one's due. 13 felicitously, delightfully, happily, exceedingly well. 9 IN 1814, his great poem of the Excursion was published, and once more the reviewers went to work to censure and condemn it. "This will never do!" exclaimed "im mortal Jeffrey." "The case of Mr. Wordsworth, we perceive, is now manifestly hopeless, and we give him up as altogether incurable, and beyond the power of criticism." Such was the judgment of the principal critic of the day, and it doubtless had considerable influence in deterring others from an attentive study of the poem ; for the public had not then discovered what is now abundantly clear to every one, that Jeffrey was utterly incapable of appreciating the true worth of a man like Wordsworth. Notwithstanding the harsh criticism which this poem evoked, it succeeded in gaining a select number of readers, by whom many of its beautiful passages were highly admired, From the time of the publication of the Excursion, however, his fame speedily grew. The public, who had been taught to despise his grotesque simplicity, began to realize his depth and beauty; taught to ridicule his childish affectation, they found in him a surpassing naturalness which touched their hearts, and made itself felt. The mists of 1prejudice had long hung about him, obscuring his fame, and hindering his message to men; but his opponents had done their worst, and their efforts were doomed to failure. In his quiet retreat at Mount Rydal, the poet had the satisfaction of knowing that the people for whom he had written had learnt to value his words, and that the men who had sought to crush him in his youthful aspirations were ready to acknowledge his genius and true worth. He had written with a full assurance-we had almost said a sublime faith-in his ultimate triumph: he knew that "Nature never did betray The heart that loved her;" and from his youth up he had firmly resolved to be faithful to Nature's teaching. Here was his great distinguishing characteristic. Other poets had gone to Nature for imagery, and had clothed their thoughts in her beauty; but he went to her for the thoughts as well: she was his teacher, and he a willing pupil-apt to learn, loving and dutiful. We have noticed with what solemn thoughts his lonely walks impressed him in his boyhood. Let us hear his reflections later on in life, when, contemplating the beauty with which God has robed the universe, he realized more fully the presence of Him in whom we live and move and have our being. "I have felt |
