534 TOUCHING VIEW OF OLD COTTAGE LIFE. Lo! in such neighbourhood, from morn to eve, The Mother left alone, no helping hand -- Idlers perchance they were, but in his sight; Ne'er to return! That birth-right now is lost," p. 371, 372. The dissertation is closed with an ardent hope, that the farther improvement and the universal diffusion of these arts may take away the temptation for us to embark so largely in their cultivation; and that we may once more hold out inducements for the return of old manners and domestic charities. "Learning, though late, that all true glory rests, And the Arts died by which they had been raised. Upon the plain of vanish'd Syracuse, Is that Philosophy, whose sway is fram'd For mere material instruments : How weak There is also a very animated exhortation to the more general diffusion of education among the lower orders; and a glowing and eloquent assertion of their capacity for all virtues and all enjoyments. POWERFUL APPEAL FOR THE POOR. Are scatter'd at the feet of Man -like flow'rs. The gen'rous inclination, the just rule, Kind wishes, and good actions, and pure thoughts- For high and not for low, for proudly grac'd, And not for meek of heart. The smoke ascends 535 The blessings and necessities that now render this a peculiar duty in the rulers of this empire, are urged in a still loftier tone. “Look! and behold, from Calpe's sunburnt cliffs Long-reverenc'd Titles cast away as weeds; And, if that ignorance were remov'd, which acts Cannot subsist, nor confidence, nor peace."- p. 403, 404. There is a good deal of fine description in the course of this work; but we have left ourselves no room for any specimen. The following few lines, however, are a fine epitome of a lake voyage: 66 Right across the the Lake Our pinnace moves: then, coasting creek and bay, Where crouch the spotted deer; or raise our eyes p. 412. We add, also, the following more elaborate and fantastic picture — which, however, is not without its beauty: "Then having reach'd a bridge, that overarch'd The hasty rivulet where it lay becalm'd 536 WORDSWORTH FINE DESCRIPTIONS AND IMAGES. A twofold image. On a grassy bank Yet, in partition, with their several spheres, Blended in perfect stillness to our sight!"—p. 407. Besides those more extended passages of interest or beauty, which we have quoted, and omitted to quote, there are scattered up and down the book, and in the midst of its most repulsive portions, a very great number of single lines and images, that sparkle like gems in the desert, and startle us by an intimation of the great poetic powers that lie buried in the rubbish that has been heaped around them. It is difficult to pick up these, after we have once passed them by; but we shall endeavour to light upon one or two. The beneficial effect of intervals of relaxation and pastime on youthful minds, is finely expressed, we think, in a single line, when it is said to be "Like vernal ground to Sabbath sunshine left." The following image of the bursting forth of a mountain-spring, seems to us also to be conceived with great elegance and beauty. "And a few steps may bring us to the spot, Where haply crown'd with flow'rets and green herbs, Like human life from darkness!" The ameliorating effects of song and music on the minds which most delight in them, are likewise very poetically expressed. HIS GREAT GIFTS GENERALLY MISAPPLIED. 537 Nor is any thing more elegant than the representation of the graceful tranquillity occasionally put on by one of the author's favourites; who, though gay and airy, in general 66 Was graceful, when it pleas'd him, smooth and still As the mute swan that floats adown the stream, Anchors her placid beauty. Not a leaf That flutters on the bough more light than he, Nor are there wanting morsels of a sterner and more majestic beauty; as when, assuming the weightier diction of Cowper, he says, in language which the hearts of all readers of modern history must have responded— "Earth is sick, And Heav'n is weary of the hollow words Which States and Kingdoms utter when they speak These examples, we perceive, are not very well chosen --but we have not leisure to improve the selection; and, such as they are, they may serve to give the reader a notion of the sort of merit which we meant to illustrate by their citation. When we look back to them, indeed, and to the other passages which we have now extracted, we feel half inclined to rescind the severe sentence which we passed on the work at the beginning:-But when we look into the work itself, we perceive that it cannot be rescinded. Nobody can be more disposed to do justice to the great powers of Mr. Wordsworth than we are; and, from the first time that he came before us, down to the present moment, we have uniformly testified in their favour, and assigned indeed our high sense of their value as the chief ground of the bitterness with which we resented their perversion. That perversion, however, is now far more visible than their original dignity; and while we collect the fragments, it is impossible not to mourn over the ruins from which we are condemned to pick them. If any one should doubt of the existence of such a perversion, or be disposed to 538 WORDSWORTH WHY HAVE A PEDLAR? dispute about the instances we have hastily brought forward, we would just beg leave to refer him to the general plan and character of the poem now before us. Why should Mr. Wordsworth have made his hero a superannuated Pedlar? What but the most wretched affectation, or provoking perversity of taste, could induce any one to place his chosen advocate of wisdom and virtue in so absurd and fantastic a condition? Did Mr. Wordsworth really imagine, that his favourite doctrines were likely to gain any thing in point of effect or authority, by being put into the mouth of a person accustomed to higgle about tape, or brass sleeve-buttons? Or is it not plain, that, independent of the ridicule and disgust which such a personification must excite in many of his readers, its adoption exposes his work throughout to the charge of revolting incongruity, and utter disregard of probability or nature? For, after he has thus wilfully debased his moral teacher by a low occupation, is there one word that he puts into his mouth, or one sentiment of which he makes him the organ, that has the most remote reference to that occupation? Is there any thing in his learned, abstract, and logical harangues, that savours of the calling that is ascribed to him? Are any of their materials such as a pedlar could possibly have dealt in? Are the manners, the diction, the sentiments, in any, the very smallest degree, accomodated to a person in that condition? or are they not eminently and conspicuously such as could not by possibility belong to it? A man who went about selling flannel and pocket-handkerchiefs in this lofty diction, would soon frighten away all his customers; and would infallibly pass either for a madman, or for some learned and affected gentleman, who, in a frolic, had taken up a character which he was peculiarly ill qualified for supporting. The absurdity in this case, we think, is palpable and glaring but it is exactly of the same nature with that which infects the whole substance of the work—a puerile ambition of singularity engrafted on an unlucky predilection for truisms; and an affected passion for simplicity and humble life, most awkwardly combined with |