a progeny of golden years Permitted to descend, and bless mankind!

529

p. 128, 129. On the disappearance of that bright vision, he was inclined to take part with the desperate party who still aimed at establishing universal regeneration, though by more questionable instruments than they had originally assumed. But the military despotism which ensued soon closed the scene against all such exertions; and, disgusted with men and Europe, he sought for shelter in the wilds of America. In the calm of the voyage, Memory and Conscience awoke him to a sense of his misery.

66

Feebly must They have felt

Who, in old time, attir'd with snakes and whips
The vengeful Furies. Beautiful regards

Were turn'd on me the face of her I lov'd!

The Wife and Mother, pitifully fixing

Tender reproaches, insupportable!"-p. 133, 134.

His disappointment, and ultimate seclusion in England, have been already sufficiently detailed.

We must trespass upon our readers with the fragments of yet another story. It is that of a simple, seduced, and deserted girl, told with great sweetness, pathos, and indulgence, by the Vicar of the parish, by the side of her untimely grave. Looking down on the turf, he says

"As, on a sunny bank, a tender Lamb,

Lurks in safe shelter, froms the winds of March
Screen'd by its Parent, so that little mound
Lies guarded by its neighbour. The small heap
Speaks for itself; an Infant there doth rest;
The shelt'ring Hillock is the Mother's grave!
There, by her innocent Baby's precious grave,
Yea, doubtless, on the turf that roofs her own,
The Mother oft was seen to stand, or keeel,
In the broad day, a weeping Magdalene.
Now she is not! The swelling turf reports
Of the fresh show'r, but of poor Ellen's tears
Is silent; nor is any vestige left
Upon the pathway of her mournful tread;

530 WORDSWORTH

-FRAILTY EXPIATED BY SUFFERING.

Nor of that peace with which she once had mov'd
In virgin fearlessness- a step that seem'd
Caught from the pressure of elastic turf

Upon the mountains wet with morning dew,

In the prime hour of sweetest scents and airs."-p. 285-287. Her virgin graces and gentleness are then very beautifully described, and her seduction and lonely anguish passed over very tenderly.

"Ah why,' said Ellen, sighing to herself,

'Why do not words, and kiss, and solemn pledge;
And nature that is kind in Woman's breast,
And reason that in Man is kind and good,
And fear of Him who is a righteous Judge,
Why do not these prevail for human life,
To keep two hearts together, that began
Their spring-time with one love, and that have need
Of mutual pity and forgiveness, sweet
To grant, or be receiv'd?"-p. 289.

"A kindlier passion open'd on her soul

When that poor Child was born. Upon its face
She look'd as on a pure and spotless gift

6

Of unexpected promise, where a grief
Or dread was all that had been thought of.
Till this hour,'

Thus in her Mother's hearing Ellen spake,

There was a stony region in my heart!

But He at whose command the parched rock

Was smitten, and pour'd forth a quenching stream,
Hath soften'd that obduracy, and made
Unlook'd-for gladness in the desert place,
To save the perishing; and, henceforth, I look
Upon the light with cheerfulness, for thee

My Infant and for that good Mother dear,
Who bore me, and hath pray'd for me in vain!
Yet not in vain, it shall not be in vain.'

-

-Through four month's space the infant drew its food
From the maternal breast. Then scruples rose;

Thoughts, which the rich are free from, came and cross'd

The sweet affection. She no more could bear

By her offence to lay a twofold weight

On a kind parent, willing to forget

Their slender means! So, to that parent's care

Trusting her child, she left their common home.
And with contented spirit undertook

A Foster-Mother's office.' - p. 291-293.

Here the parents of her new nursling soon forbade her all intercourse with her own most precious child;

VERY LOVABLE GENTLENESS.

531

and a sudden malady carried it off, in this period of forced desertion.

"Once, only once,

She saw it in that mortal malady ;

And, on the burial day, could scarcely gain
Permission to attend its obsequies!

་

She reach'd the house last of the funeral train;
And some One, as she enter'd, haviug chanc'd

То urge unthinkingly their prompt departure,

Nay,' said she, with commanding look, a spirit
Of anger never seen in her before,

Nay ye must wait my time!' and down she sate,
And by the unclosed coffin kept her seat;
Weeping and looking, looking on and weeping
Upon the last sweet slumber of her Child!

Until at length her soul was satisfied.

You see the Infant's Grave! - and to this Spot,
The Mother, oft as she was sent abroad,

And whatsoe'er the errand, urg'd her steps:

Hither she came; and here she stood, or knelt,
In the broad day-a rueful Magdalene!"-p. 294.
Overwhelmed with this calamity, she was at last obliged
to leave her service.

"But the green stalk of Ellen's life was snapp'd,
And the flow'r droop'd; as every eye might see.'

66

"Her fond maternal Heart had built a Nest
In blindness all too near the river's edge;
That Work a summer flood with hasty swell
Had swept away! and now her spirit long'd
For its last flight to Heaven's security."

- Meek Saint! through patience glorified on earth! In whom, as by her lonely hearth she sate,

The ghastly face of cold decay put on

A sun-like beauty, and appear'd divine;

So, through the cloud of death her spirit pass'd

Into that pure and unknown world of love,

Where injury cannot come : and here is laid

The mortal Body by her Infant's side!"- p. 2 6, 297.

These passages, we think, are among the most touching with which the volume presents us; though there are many in a more lofty and impassioned style. The following commemoration of a beautiful and glorious youth, the love and pride of the humble valley, is full of warmth and poetry.

532

A PASSAGE ELOQUENT AND LOFTY.

"The mountain Ash

Deck'd with autumnal berries that outshine
Spring's richest blossoms, yields a splendid show
Amid the leafy woods; and ye have seen,
By a brook side or solitary tarn,

How she her station doth adorn, - the pool

Glows at her feet, and all the gloomy rocks
Are brighten'd round her! In his native Vale
Such and so glorious did this Youth appear;
A sight that kindled pleasure in all hearts,
By his ingenuous beauty, by the gleam
Of his fair eyes, by his capacious brow,
By all the graces with which nature's hand
Had bounteously array'd him. As old Bards
Tell in their idle songs of wand'ring Gods,
Pan or Apollo, veil'd in human form;
Yet, like the sweet-breath'd violet of the shade,
Discover'd in their own despite, to sense
Of Mortals, (if such fables without blame
May find chance-mention on this sacred ground,)
So, through a simple rustic garb's disguise,
In him reveal'd a Scholar's genius shone!
And so, not wholly hidden from men's sight,
In him the spirit of a hero walk'd

Our unpretending valley."--p. 342, 343

This is lofty and energetic;- but Mr. Wordsworth descends, we cannot think very gracefully, when he proceeds to describe how the quoit whizzed when his arm launched it and how the football mounted as high as a lark, at the touch of his toe; neither is it a suitable catastrophe, for one so nobly endowed, to catch cold by standing too long in the river washing sheep, and die of spasms in consequence.

The general reflections on the indiscriminating ra pacity of death, though by no means original in themselves, and expressed with too bold a 'rivalry of the seven ages of Shakspeare, have yet a character of vigour and truth about them that entitles them to notice.

"This file of infants; some that never breath'd
And the besprinkl'd Nursling, unrequir'd

Till he begins to smile upon the breast
That feeds him; and the tott'ring Little-one
Taken from air and sunshine, when the rose

Of Infancy first blooms upon his cheek;

The thinking, thoughtless Schoolboy; the bold Youth
Of soul impetuous; and the bashful Maid

A PROTEST AGAINST FACTORIES.

Smitten while all the promises of life

Are op'ning round her; those of middle age,
Cast down while confident in strength they stand,
Like pillars fix'd more firmly, as might seem,
And more secure, by very weight of all
That, for support, rests on them; the decay'd
And burthensome; and, lastly, that poor few
Whose light of reason is with age extinct;
The hopeful and the hopeless, first and last,
The earliest summon'd and the longest spar'd,
Are here deposited; with tribute paid
Various, but unto each some tribute paid;
As if, amid these peaceful hills and
Society were touch'd with kind concern,

groves,

And gentle Nature griev'd that One should die!'

533

p. 244, 245.

There is a lively and impressive appeal on the injury done to the health, happiness, and morality of the lower orders, by the unceasing and premature labours of our crowded manufactories. The description of night-working is picturesque. In lonely and romantic regions, he says, when silence and darkness incline all to repose

"An unnatural light,

Prepar'd for never-resting Labour's eyes,
Breaks from a many-window'd Fabric huge;
And at the appointed hour a Bell is heard-
Of harsher import than the Curfew-knoll

That spake the Norman Conqueror's stern behest.
A local summons to unceasing toil!

Disgorg'd are now the Ministers of day;

And, as they issue from the illumin'd Pile,

A fresh Band meets them, at the crowded door,
And in the Courts; - and where the rumbling Stream,

That turns the multitude of dizzy wheels,

Glares, like a troubl'd Spirit, in its bed

Among the rocks below. Men, Maidens, Youths,

Mother and little Children, Boys and Girls,

Enter, and each the wonted task resumes

Within this Temple - where is offer'd up
To Gain the Master Idol of the Realm,
Perpetual sacrifice.".

-p. 367.

The effects on the ordinary life of the poor are delineated in graver colours.

(Or call it comfort, by a humbler name,)

How art thou blighted for the poor Man's heart!