[Footnote W: Compare the sonnet, vol. ii. p. 332, beginning:

'Jones! as from Calais southward you and I Went pacing side by side, this public Way Streamed with the pomp of a too-credulous day, When faith was pledged to new-born Liberty.'

Ed.]

[Footnote X: Robespierre was a native of Arras.--Ed.]

[Footnote Y: Robespierre was guillotined with his confederates on the 28th July 1794. Wordsworth lived in c.u.mberland--at Keswick, Whitehaven, and Penrith--from the winter of 1793-4 till the spring of 1795. He must have made this journey across the Ulverston Sands, in the first week of August 1794. Compare Wordsworth's remarks on Robespierre, in his 'Letter to a Friend of Burns',--Ed.]

[Footnote Z: The "honoured teacher" of his youth was the Rev. William Taylor, of Emmanuel College, Cambridge, who was master at Hawkshead School from 1782 to 1786, who died while Wordsworth was at school, and who was buried in Cartmell Churchyard. See the note to the 'Address to the Scholars of the Village School of----' (vol. ii. p. 85).--Ed.]

[Footnote a: The following is the inscription on the head-stone in Cartmell Churchyard:

'In memory of the Rev. William Taylor, A. M., son of John Taylor of Outerthwaite, who was some years a Fellow of Eman. Coll., Camb., and Master of the Free School at Hawkshead. He departed this life June the 12th 1786, aged 32 years 2 months and 13 days.

His Merits, stranger, seek not to disclose, Or draw his Frailties from their dread abode, There they alike in trembling Hope repose, The Bosom of his Father and his G.o.d.'

Ed.]

[Footnote b: This is exact. Taylor died in 1786. Robespierre was executed in 1794, eight years afterwards.--Ed.]

[Footnote c: He refers to the 'Lines written as a School Exercise at Hawkskead, anno aetatis' 14; and, probably, to 'The Summer Vacation', which is mentioned in the "Autobiographical Memoranda" as "a task imposed by my master," but whether by Taylor, or by his predecessors at Hawkshead School in Wordsworth's time--Parker and Christian--is uncertain.--Ed.]

[Footnote d: Compare Hausman's 'Guide to the Lakes' (1803), p. 209.

"Chapel Island on the right is a desolate object, where there are yet some remains of an oratory built by the monks of Furness, in which Divine Service was daily performed at a certain hour for pa.s.sengers who crossed the sands with the morning tide."

This, evidently, is the ruin referred to by Wordsworth.--Ed.]

[Footnote e: See note, book ii. ll. 103-6.--Ed.]

[Footnote f: By Arrad Foot and Greenodd, beyond Ulverston, on the way to Hawkshead.--Ed.]

BOOK ELEVENTH.

FRANCE--concluded.

From that time forth, [A] Authority in France Put on a milder face; Terror had ceased, Yet every thing was wanting that might give Courage to them who looked for good by light Of rational Experience, for the shoots 5 And hopeful blossoms of a second spring: Yet, in me, confidence was unimpaired; The Senate's language, and the public acts And measures of the Government, though both Weak, and of heartless omen, had not power 10 To daunt me; in the People was my trust, And, in the virtues which mine eyes had seen. [1]

I knew that wound external could not take Life from the young Republic; that new foes Would only follow, in the path of shame, 15 Their brethren, and her triumphs be in the end Great, universal, irresistible.

This intuition led me to confound One victory with another, higher far,-- Triumphs of unambitious peace at home, 20 And noiseless fort.i.tude. Beholding still Resistance strong as heretofore, I thought That what was in degree the same was likewise The same in quality,--that, as the worse Of the two spirits then at strife remained 25 Untired, the better, surely, would preserve The heart that first had roused him. Youth maintains, In all conditions of society, Communion more direct and intimate With Nature,--hence, ofttimes, with reason too--30 Than age or manhood, even. To Nature, then, Power had reverted: habit, custom, law, Had left an interregnum's open s.p.a.ce For _her_ to move about in, uncontrolled.

Hence could I see how Babel-like their task, 35 Who, by the recent deluge stupified, With their whole souls went culling from the day Its petty promises, to build a tower For their own safety; laughed with my compeers At gravest heads, by enmity to France 40 Distempered, till they found, in every blast Forced from the street-disturbing newsman's horn, For her great cause record or prophecy Of utter ruin. How might we believe That wisdom could, in any shape, come near 45 Men clinging to delusions so insane?

And thus, experience proving that no few Of our opinions had been just, we took Like credit to ourselves where less was due, And thought that other notions were as sound, 50 Yea, could not but be right, because we saw That foolish men opposed them.

To a strain More animated I might here give way, And tell, since juvenile errors are my theme, What in those days, through Britain, was performed 55 To turn _all_ judgments out of their right course; But this is pa.s.sion over-near ourselves, Reality too close and too intense, And intermixed with something, in my mind, Of scorn and condemnation personal, 60 That would profane the sanct.i.ty of verse.

Our Shepherds, this say merely, at that time Acted, or seemed at least to act, like men Thirsting to make the guardian crook of law A tool of murder; [B] they who ruled the State, 65 Though with such awful proof before their eyes That he, who would sow death, reaps death, or worse, And can reap nothing better, child-like longed To imitate, not wise enough to avoid; Or left (by mere timidity betrayed) 70 The plain straight road, for one no better chosen Than if their wish had been to undermine Justice, and make an end of Liberty. [B]

But from these bitter truths I must return To my own history. It hath been told 75 That I was led to take an eager part In arguments of civil polity, Abruptly, and indeed before my time: I had approached, like other youths, the shield Of human nature from the golden side, 80 And would have fought, even to the death, to attest The quality of the metal which I saw.

What there is best in individual man, Of wise in pa.s.sion, and sublime in power, Benevolent in small societies, 85 And great in large ones, I had oft revolved, Felt deeply, but not thoroughly understood By reason: nay, far from it; they were yet, As cause was given me afterwards to learn, Not proof against the injuries of the day; 90 Lodged only at the sanctuary's door, Not safe within its bosom. Thus prepared, And with such general insight into evil, And of the bounds which sever it from good, As books and common intercourse with life 95 Must needs have given--to the inexperienced mind, When the world travels in a beaten road, Guide faithful as is needed--I began To meditate with ardour on the rule And management of nations; what it is 100 And ought to be; and strove to learn how far Their power or weakness, wealth or poverty, Their happiness or misery, depends Upon their laws, and fashion of the State.

O pleasant exercise of hope and joy! [C] 105 For mighty were the auxiliars which then stood Upon our side, us who were strong in love!

Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive, But to be young was very Heaven! [D] O times, In which the meagre, stale, forbidding ways 110 Of custom, law, and statute, took at once The attraction of a country in romance!

When Reason seemed the most to a.s.sert her rights When most intent on making of herself A prime enchantress--to a.s.sist the work, 115 Which then was going forward in her name!

Not favoured spots alone, but the whole Earth, The beauty wore of promise--that which sets (As at some moments might not be unfelt Among the bowers of Paradise itself) 120 The budding rose above the rose full blown.

What temper at the prospect did not wake To happiness unthought of? The inert Were roused, and lively natures rapt away!

They who had fed their childhood upon dreams, 125 The play-fellows of fancy, who had made All powers of swiftness, subtilty, and strength Their ministers,--who in lordly wise had stirred Among the grandest objects of the sense, And dealt with whatsoever they found there 130 As if they had within some lurking right To wield it;--they, too, who of gentle mood Had watched all gentle motions, and to these Had fitted their own thoughts, schemers more mild, And in the region of their peaceful selves;--135 Now was it that _both_ found, the meek and lofty Did both find helpers to their hearts' desire, And stuff at hand, plastic as they could wish,-- Were called upon to exercise their skill, Not in Utopia,--subterranean fields,--140 Or some secreted island, Heaven knows where!

But in the very world, which is the world Of all of us,--the place where, in the end, We find our happiness, or not at all!

Why should I not confess that Earth was then 145 To me, what an inheritance, new-fallen, Seems, when the first time visited, to one Who thither comes to find in it his home?

He walks about and looks upon the spot With cordial transport, moulds it and remoulds, 150 And is half pleased with things that are amiss, 'Twill be such joy to see them disappear.

An active partisan, I thus convoked From every object pleasant circ.u.mstance To suit my ends; I moved among mankind 155 With genial feelings still predominant; When erring, erring on the better part, And in the kinder spirit; placable, Indulgent, as not uninformed that men See as they have been taught--Antiquity 160 Gives rights to error; and aware, no less, That throwing off oppression must be work As well of License as of Liberty; And above all--for this was more than all-- Not caring if the wind did now and then 165 Blow keen upon an eminence that gave Prospect so large into futurity; In brief, a child of Nature, as at first, Diffusing only those affections wider That from the cradle had grown up with me, 170 And losing, in no other way than light Is lost in light, the weak in the more strong.

In the main outline, such it might be said Was my condition, till with open war Britain opposed the liberties of France. [E] 175 This threw me first out of the pale of love; Soured and corrupted, upwards to the source, My sentiments; was not, as. .h.i.therto, A swallowing up of lesser things in great, But change of them into their contraries; 180 And thus a way was opened for mistakes And false conclusions, in degree as gross, In kind more dangerous. What had been a pride, Was now a shame; my likings and my loves Ran in new channels, leaving old ones dry; 185 And hence a blow that, in maturer age, Would but have touched the judgment, struck more deep Into sensations near the heart: meantime, As from the first, wild theories were afloat, To whose pretensions, sedulously urged, 190 I had but lent a careless ear, a.s.sured That time was ready to set all things right, And that the mult.i.tude, so long oppressed, Would be oppressed no more.

But when events Brought less encouragement, and unto these 195 The immediate proof of principles no more Could be entrusted, while the events themselves, Worn out in greatness, stripped of novelty, Less occupied the mind, and sentiments Could through my understanding's natural growth 200 No longer keep their ground, by faith maintained Of inward consciousness, and hope that laid Her hand upon her object--evidence Safer, of universal application, such As could not be impeached, was sought elsewhere. 205

But now, become oppressors in their turn, Frenchmen had changed a war of self-defence For one of conquest, [F] losing sight of all Which they had struggled for: now mounted up, Openly in the eye of earth and heaven, 210 The scale of liberty. I read her doom, With anger vexed, with disappointment sore, But not dismayed, nor taking to the shame Of a false prophet. While resentment rose Striving to hide, what nought could heal, the wounds 215 Of mortified presumption, I adhered More firmly to old tenets, and, to prove Their temper, strained them more; and thus, in heat Of contest, did opinions every day Grow into consequence, till round my mind 220 They clung, as if they were its life, nay more, The very being of the immortal soul.

This was the time, when, all things tending fast To depravation, speculative schemes-- That promised to abstract the hopes of Man 225 Out of his feelings, to be fixed thenceforth For ever in a purer element-- Found ready welcome. Tempting region _that_ For Zeal to enter and refresh herself, Where pa.s.sions had the privilege to work, 230 And never hear the sound of their own names.

But, speaking more in charity, the dream Flattered the young, pleased with extremes, nor least With that which makes our Reason's naked self The object of its fervour. What delight! 235 How glorious! in self-knowledge and self-rule, To look through all the frailties of the world, And, with a resolute mastery shaking off Infirmities of nature, time, and place, Build social upon personal Liberty, 240 Which, to the blind restraints of general laws Superior, magisterially adopts One guide, the light of circ.u.mstances, flashed Upon an independent intellect.

Thus expectation rose again; thus hope, 245 From her first ground expelled, grew proud once more.

Oft, as my thoughts were turned to human kind, I scorned indifference; but, inflamed with thirst Of a secure intelligence, and sick Of other longing, I pursued what seemed 250 A more exalted nature; wished that Man Should start out of his earthy, worm-like state, And spread abroad the wings of Liberty, Lord of himself, in undisturbed delight-- A n.o.ble aspiration! _yet_ I feel 255 (Sustained by worthier as by wiser thoughts) The aspiration, nor shall ever cease To feel it;--but return we to our course.

Enough, 'tis true--could such a plea excuse Those aberrations--had the clamorous friends 260 Of ancient Inst.i.tutions said and done To bring disgrace upon their very names; Disgrace, of which, custom and written law, And sundry moral sentiments as props Or emanations of those inst.i.tutes, 265 Too justly bore a part. A veil had been Uplifted; why deceive ourselves? in sooth, 'Twas even so; and sorrow for the man Who either had not eyes wherewith to see, Or, seeing, had forgotten! A strong shock 270 Was given to old opinions; all men's minds Had felt its power, and mine was both let loose, Let loose and goaded. After what hath been Already said of patriotic love, Suffice it here to add, that, somewhat stern 275 In temperament, withal a happy man, And therefore bold to look on painful things, Free likewise of the world, and thence more bold, I summoned my best skill, and toiled, intent To anatomise the frame of social life, 280 Yea, the whole body of society Searched to its heart. Share with me, Friend! the wish That some dramatic tale, endued with shapes Livelier, and flinging out less guarded words Than suit the work we fashion, might set forth 285 What then I learned, or think I learned, of truth, And the errors into which I fell, betrayed By present objects, and by reasonings false From their beginnings, inasmuch as drawn Out of a heart that had been turned aside 290 From Nature's way by outward accidents, And which was thus confounded, more and more Misguided, and misguiding. So I fared, Dragging all precepts, judgments, maxims, creeds, Like culprits to the bar; calling the mind, 295 Suspiciously, to establish in plain day Her t.i.tles and her honours; now believing, Now disbelieving; endlessly perplexed With impulse, motive, right and wrong, the ground Of obligation, what the rule and whence 300 The sanction; till, demanding formal _proof_, And seeking it in every thing, I lost All feeling of conviction, and, in fine, Sick, wearied out with contrarieties, Yielded up moral questions in despair. 305

This was the crisis of that strong disease, This the soul's last and lowest ebb; I drooped, Deeming our blessed reason of least use Where wanted most: "The lordly attributes Of will and choice," I bitterly exclaimed, 310 "What are they but a mockery of a Being Who hath in no concerns of his a test Of good and evil; knows not what to fear Or hope for, what to covet or to shun; And who, if those could be discerned, would yet 315 Be little profited, would see, and ask Where is the obligation to enforce?

And, to acknowledged law rebellious, still, As selfish pa.s.sion urged, would act amiss; The dupe of folly, or the slave of crime." 320