In flower and tree, in every pebbly stone The more we know; and yet is reverenced least, As previously stated, the conceptions and beliefs of religious faith, and the poetic intuitions, in Wordsworth's poetry, are not mutually opposed. In both cases they are essentially Theistic. However, in the latter instance he seems to apprehend Reality by means of a mystical mental process, whereas, in the former, he apprehends the content of his faith by means of the rational and religious consciousness, possibly aided by his æsthetic nature, as he mused or meditated on the mysterious problems which life especially presented to his mind. In later years he seemed to take the religious rather than the earlier poetic attitude, as is manifest in the "Ecclesiastical Sonnets." Whether this was due to a conscious recognition of the inadequacy of the poetic attitude, or to that singular loss of mystical insight into Nature which he experienced about the time of the completion of "The Excursion," to which reference will be made in the final chapter, it is impossible to say. But it is evident that, whatever may have been the reason, we have a more thoroughly religious mode of apprehending God, and his relations to Man, than in his earlier poetry, and therefore a more human mode- more human because it is far more common to Man himself than the other. In short, in "The Excursion," and in the later poetry of Wordsworth, the content of the Poet's 1 The Excursion, IX, 1-20. faith is essentially the same as in his earlier poetry, but the way of approach to it, or the mode of apprehending it, is different. In Wordsworth's early poetry we have mystical vision and intuition; in the later we have rational and religious meditation and belief. In the former we have immediate apprehension of Reality; in the latter, mediate. The object of the former is the Spirit of Nature; the object of the latter is a personal God. Therefore, in a sense, God figures more conspicuously than Nature in "The Excursion" and "Ecclesiastical Sonnets." CHAPTER XVII THE EXCURSION (CONCLUDED) In the eighth and ninth books of "The Excursion" Wordsworth introduces the reader to some of his views on society, or the social order. After discussing the subjects of the worth of Man and the worth of Life, the Wanderer, in response to a little playful rally on the part of the Solitary concerning his humble calling, takes occasion to direct attention to the condition of Britain to-day as compared with that in earlier days, when he traveled about as a peddler. This change is specially marked in the industrial order, and he calls attention to its baneful effects on Nature and Man: I have lived to mark A new and unforeseen creation rise As that of war, which rests not night or day, Practically all of the elements have been utilized to bring about this change. The result, of course, has been to make Britain one of the great marts of the world, and a power to be respected and feared. But all this progress has been made at frightful expense the spoliation of Nature, and the bodily and moral welfare of the people. On all sides forests have been laid bare, streams polluted, and the beauty of Nature outraged. But more than this, it has resulted in much demoralization of the people. It dwarfs the bodily nature of the child, and lays the sure foundations of disease. It aims a blow, also, at the home. Parents and children work in 1 The Excursion, VIII, 89-95 factories, and domestic duty and happiness must of necessity suffer. It strikes at virtue in bringing the sexes together in unguarded fashion. It destroys the charm and peacefulness of country lifethe simplicity and sobriety, the respect for old institutions and customs, both moral and religious—which heretofore proved a refuge from the busy world. These are the fruits of the manufacturing spirit, and Wordsworth, in the words of the Wanderer, deplores them. He rejoices in the Nation's progress, and in the sovereignty of Man over Nature, but the physical enfeeblement of the child, and the social and moral degeneration which result from the industrial order, make him look upon this advance with grave misgiving and condemnation. To him the old life of toil, close to the heart of Nature, seems best for rural people. - What hope rises from the new order of things? "We live by hope," continues the Wanderer, "and by desire." Without them we languish and die. 'Tis so with boyhood, with youth, and with manhood. Age looks back on childhood — the rising period of hope — with fondness. The good and wise will never be separated from hope, even in old age, which is forbidding, but which has an inviting aspect also, for it is as one seated on an eminence, far away from the busy noises of life, where, in its solitude, it can exercise the finer activities of sense and soul. And, indeed, may there not be a further purpose in the isolation or solitude of old age? It affords Fresh power to commune with the invisible world, Uttering, for elevation of our thought, A clear sonorous voice,1 which cannot be heard by those who are busy with the world. But if old age may aspire to such hopes, they will be possible only to those whose minds have not been starved by neglect, and whose bodies have not been crushed by incessant toil. Nature loves Man, and if she be allowed to have her way with him, and 1 The Excursion, IX, 86-89. Reason be permitted to rule, then the country, society, and time, through the grace of a beneficent God, make for his good, for, under such circumstances, all these forces partake Of one maternal spirit, bringing forth And cherishing with ever-constant love, But life is turned from her true course when Man is converted into a mere tool or implement—a means for the realization of an end, there being no acknowledgment of his common right in the end itself. This weakens his power for good, and strengthens his power for evil. Man was not born for such issues as these. However, on the other hand, when he is not thus degraded and restrained, the very powers which, under such restraint, make for evil, become forces for good. Of course, the Wanderer is here aiming his shafts at the social and industrial order referred to above an order which seemed to him to starve the mind and crush the body, and to override the inherent claims of human personality. There is, indeed, a difference, continues the Wanderer, between the victims of this order, and the unfortunate peasant class referred to by the Solitary in disparaging Nature's assistance to Man. The latter class are slaves of ignorance and want, but they are "lineal heirs" of this vassalage; their ancestors bequeathed this unhappy legacy to them. But no one delights in such oppression, nor are any proud of it. It is a vice indigenous to every country. But the industrial evil is of a different character. It is a slavery that wears the aspect of good. It is a case in which a thing in itself beneficent has been carried to an extreme, and its very victims, as well as those responsible for them, are self-deceived, believing an evil to be a good. Even the wise have been misled, and think that these newer methods of industry make for the betterment of society. This is a grave delusion, and the Wanderer mourns for these children of rural England, whom he has seen corrupted, whose innocence and love circumstance 1 The Excursion, IX, 111-113. |