Enough if notions seemed to be high-pitched, And qualities determined.-Among men So charactered did I maintain a strife Hopeless, and still more hopeless every hour; But, in the process, I began to feel That, if the emancipation of the world Were missed, I should at least secure my own, And be in part compensated. For rights, Widely-inveterately usurped upon,
I spake with vehemence; and promptly seized All that Abstraction furnished for my needs Or purposes; nor scrupled to proclaim, And propagate, by liberty of life,
Those new persuasions. Not that I rejoiced, Or even found pleasure, in such vagrant course, For its own sake; but farthest from the walk Which I had trod in happiness and peace, Was most inviting to a troubled mind; That, in a struggling and distempered world, Saw a seductive image of herself.
Yet, mark the contradictions of which Man Is still the sport! Here Nature was my guide, The Nature of the dissolute; but thee, O fostering Nature! I rejected-smiled At others' tears in pity; and in scorn
At those, which thy soft influence sometimes drew From my unguarded heart.—The tranquil shores Of Britain circumscribed me; else, perhaps I might have been entangled among deeds, Which, now, as infamous, I should abhor- Despise, as senseless: for my spirit relished Strangely the exasperation of that Land, Which turned an angry beak against the down Of her own breast; confounded into hope Of disencumbering thus her fretful wings.
But all was quieted by iron bonds Of military sway. The shifting aims, The moral interests, the creative might,
The varied functions and high attributes
Of civil action, yielded to a power
Formal, and odious, and contemptible. -In Britain, ruled a panic dread of change;
The weak were praised, rewarded, and advanced; And, from the impulse of a just disdain, Once more did I retire into myself.
There feeling no contentment, I resolved To fly, for safeguard, to some foreign shore, Remote from Europe; from her blasted hopes; Her fields of carnage, and polluted air.
Fresh blew the wind, when o'er the Atlantic Main The ship went gliding with her thoughtless crew; And who among them but an Exile, freed
From discontent, indifferent, pleased to sit Among the busily-employed, not more With obligation charged, with service taxed, Than the loose pendant—to the idle wind Upon the tall mast streaming. But, ye Powers Of soul and sense mysteriously allied,
O, never let the Wretched, if a choice Be left him, trust the freight of his distress
To a long voyage on the silent deep! For, like a plague, will memory break out; And, in the blank and solitude of things, Upon his spirit, with a fever's strength, Will conscience prey.-Feebly must they have felt Who, in old time, attired with snakes and whips The vengeful Furies. Beautiful regards Were turned on me-the face of her I loved; The Wife and Mother pitifully fixing Tender reproaches, insupportable! Where now that boasted liberty? No welcome From unknown objects I received; and those, Known and familiar, which the vaulted sky Did, in the placid clearness of the night, Disclose, had accusations to prefer Against my peace. Within the cabin stood That volume-as a compass for the soul- Revered among the nations. I implored Its guidance; but the infallible support of faith was wanting. Tell me, why refused To One by storms annoyed and adverse winds; Perplexed with currents; of his weakness sick; Of vain endeavours tired; and by his own, And by his nature's, ignorance, dismayed!
Long-wished-for sight, the Western World appeared;
And, when the ship was moored, I leaped ashore Indignantly-resolved to be a man,
Who, having o'er the past no power, would live No longer in subjection to the past,
With abject mind-from a tyrannic lord Inviting penance, fruitlessly endured:
So, like a fugitive, whose feet have cleared Some boundary, which his followers may not cross In prosecution of their deadly chase,
Respiring I looked round.-How bright the sun, The breeze how soft! Can any thing produced In the old World compare, thought I, for power And majesty with this gigantic stream, Sprung from the desert? And behold a city Fresh, youthful, and aspiring! What are these To me, or I to them? As much at least As he desires that they should be, whom winds And waves have wafted to this distant shore, In the condition of a damaged seed,
Whose fibres cannot, if they would, take root. Here may I roam at large ;-my business is, Roaming at large, to observe, and not to feel And, therefore, not to act-convinced that all Which bears the name of action, howsoe'er Beginning, ends in servitude-still painful, And mostly profitless. And, sooth to say, On nearer view, a motley spectacle Appeared, of high pretensions-unreproved But by the obstreperous voice of higher still; Big passions strutting on a petty stage; Which a detached spectator may regard Not unamused.--But ridicule demands Quick change of objects; and, to laugh alone, At a composing distance from the haunts Of strife and folly, though it be a treat As choice as musing Leisure can bestow; Yet, in the very centre of the crowd, To keep the secret of a poignant scorn, Howe'er to airy Demons suitable, Of all unsocial courses, is least fit
For the gross spirit of mankind,—the one That soonest fails to please, and quickliest turns Into vexation.
Leave this unknit Republic to the scourge Of her own passions; and to regions haste, Whose shades have never felt the encroaching axe, Or soil endured a transfer in the mart Of dire rapacity. There, Man abides, Primeval Nature's child. A creature weak In combination, (wherefore else driven back So far, and of his old inheritance So easily deprived?) but, for that cause, More dignified, and stronger in himself; Whether to act, judge, suffer, or enjoy. True, the intelligence of social art Hath overpowered his forefathers, and soon Will sweep the remnant of his line away; But contemplations, worthier, nobler far Than her destructive energies, attend His independence, when along the side Of Mississippi, or that northern stream That spreads into successive seas, he walks; Pleased to perceive his own unshackled life, And his innate capacities of soul,
There imaged or when, having gained the top Of some commanding eminence, which yet Intruder ne'er beheld, he thence surveys Regions of wood and wide savannah, vast Expanse of unappropriated earth,
With mind that sheds a light on what he sees; Free as the sun, and lonely as the sun,
Pouring above his head its radiance down Upon a living and rejoicing world!
So, westward, tow'rd the unviolated woods I bent my way; and, roaming far and wide, Failed not to greet the merry Mocking-bird; And, while the melancholy Muccawiss (The sportive bird's companion in the grove) Repeated, o'er and o'er, his plaintive cry, I sympathised at leisure with the sound; But that pure archetype of human greatness, I found him not. There, in his stead, appeared A creature, squalid, vengeful, and impure; Remorseless, and submissive to no law But superstitious fear, and abject sloth.
Enough is told! Here am I-ye have heard What evidence I seek, and vainly seek; What from my fellow-beings I require, And either they have not to give, or I Lack virtue to receive; what I myself, Too oft by wilful forfeiture, have lost Nor can regain. How languidly I look Upon this visible fabric of the world, May be divined—perhaps it hath been said:— But spare your pity, if there be in me Aught that deserves respect: for I exist, Within myself, not comfortless.-The tenour Which my life holds, he readily may conceive Whoe'er hath stood to watch a mountain brook In some still passage of its course, and seen, Within the depths of its capacious breast, Inverted trees, rocks, clouds, and azure sky; And, on its glassy surface, specks of foam, And conglobated bubbles undissolved, Numerous as stars; that, by their onward lapse, Betray to sight the motion of the stream, Else imperceptible. Meanwhile, is heard
A softened roar, or murmur; and the sound Though soothing, and the little floating isles Though beautiful, are both by Nature charged With the same pensive office; and make known Through what perplexing labyrinths, abrupt Precipitations, and untoward straits, The earth-born wanderer hath passed; and quickly, That respite o'er, like traverses and toils Must he again encounter.-Such a stream Is human Life; and so the Spirit fares In the best quiet to her course allowed; And such is mine,-save only for a hope That my particular current soon will reach The unfathomable gulf, where all is still!"
State of feeling produced by the foregoing Narrative-A belief in a superintending Providence the only adequate support under affliction-Wanderer's ejaculation— Acknowledges the difficulty of a lively faith-Hence immoderate sorrow-Exhortations-How receivedWanderer applies his discourse to that other cause of dejection in the Solitary's mind-Disappointment from the French Revolution-States grounds of hope, and insists on the necessity of patience and fortitude with respect to the course of great revolutions-Knowledge the source of tranquillity-Rural Solitude favourable to knowledge of the inferior Creatures; Study of their habits and ways recommended; exhortation to bodily exertion and communion with Nature-Morbid Solitude pitiable-Superstition better than apathy-Apathy and destitution unknown in the infancy of society-The various modes of Religion prevented it-Illustrated in the Jewish, Persian, Babylonian, Chaldean, and Grecian modes of belief-Solitary interposes-Wanderer points out the influence of religious and imaginative feeling in the humble ranks of society, illustrated from present and past times-These principles tend to recal exploded superstitions and popery-Wanderer rebuts this charge, and contrasts the dignities of the Imagination with the presumptuous littleness of certain modern Philosophers -Recommends other lights and guides-Asserts the power of the Soul to regenerate herself; Solitary asks how-Reply-Personal appeal-Exhortation to activity of body renewed-How to commune with NatureWanderer concludes with a legitimate union of the imagination, affections, understanding, and reasonEffect of his discourse-Evening; Return to the Cottage.
HERE closed the Tenant of that lonely vale His mournful narrative-commenced in pain, In pain commenced, and ended without peace: Yet tempered, not unfrequently, with strains Of native feeling, grateful to our minds; And yielding surely some relief to his, While we sate listening with compassion due. A pause of silence followed; then, with voice That did not falter though the heart was moved, The Wanderer said:-
"One adequate support
For the calamities of mortal life Exists-one only; an assured belief That the procession of our fate, howe'er Sad or disturbed, is ordered by a Being Of infinite benevolence and power; Whose everlasting purposes embrace All accidents, converting them to good. -The darts of anguish fix not where the seat
Of suffering hath been thoroughly fortified By acquiescence in the Will supreme For time and for eternity; by faith, Faith absolute in God, including hope, And the defence that lies in boundless love Of his perfections; with habitual dread Of aught unworthily conceived, endured Impatiently, ill-done, or left undone, To the dishonour of his holy name. Soul of our Souls, and safeguard of the world! Sustain, thou only canst, the sick of heart; Restore their languid spirits, and recal Their lost affections unto thee and thine !"
Then, as we issued from that covert nook, He thus continued, lifting up his eyes To heaven:-"How beautiful this dome of sky; And the vast hills, in fluctuation fixed At thy command, how awful! Shall the Soul, Human and rational, report of thee
Even less than these?-Be mute who will, who can,
Yet I will praise thee with impassioned voice: My lips, that may forget thee in the crowd, Cannot forget thee here; where thou hast built, For thy own glory, in the wilderness ! Me didst thou constitute a priest of thine, In such a temple as we now behold Reared for thy presence: therefore, am I bound To worship, here, and every where-as one Not doomed to ignorance, though forced to tread, From childhood up, the ways of poverty; From unreflecting ignorance preserved, And from debasement rescued.-By thy grace The particle divine remained unquenched; And, 'mid the wild weeds of a rugged soil, Thy bounty caused to flourish deathless flowers, From paradise transplanted: wintry age Impends; the frost will gather round my heart; If the flowers wither, I am worse than dead! -Come, labour, when the worn-out frame requires Perpetual sabbath; come, disease and want; And sad exclusion through decay of sense; But leave me unabated trust in thee- And let thy favour, to the end of life, Inspire me with ability to seek Repose and hope among eternal things- Father of heaven and earth! and I am rich, And will possess my portion in content!
And what are things eternal?-powers depart," The grey-haired Wanderer stedfastly replied, Answering the question which himself had asked, "Possessions vanish, and opinions change, And passions hold a fluctuating seat: But, by the storms of circumstance unshaken, And subject neither to eclipse nor wane, Duty exists;-immutably survive,
For our support, the measures and the forms, Which an abstract intelligence supplies; Whose kingdom is, where time and space are not. Of other converse which mind, soul, and heart, Do, with united urgency, require,
What more that may not perish ?-Thou, dread
Prime, self-existing cause and end of all That in the scale of being fill their place; Above our human region, or below,
Set and sustained ;-thou, who didst wrap the cloud Of infancy around us, that thyself, Therein, with our simplicity awhile Might'st hold, on earth, communion undisturbed; Who from the anarchy of dreaming sleep, Or from its death-like void, with punctual care, And touch as gentle as the morning light, Restor'st us, daily, to the powers of sense And reason's stedfast rule-thou, thou alone Art everlasting, and the blessed Spirits, Which thou includest, as the sea her waves: For adoration thou endur'st; endure For consciousness the motions of thy will; For apprehension those transcendent truths Of the pure intellect, that stand as laws (Submission constituting strength and power) Even to thy Being's infinite majesty ! This universe shall pass away-a work Glorious! because the shadow of thy might, A step, or link, for intercourse with thee. Ah! if the time must come, in which my feet No more shall stray where meditation leads, By flowing stream, through wood, or craggy wild, Loved haunts like these; the unimprisoned Mind May yet have scope to range among her own, Her thoughts, her images, her high desires. If the dear faculty of sight should fail, Still, it may be allowed me to remember What visionary powers of eye and soul
In youth were mine; when, stationed on the top Of some huge hill-expectant, I beheld The sun rise up, from distant climes returned Darkness to chase, and sleep; and bring the day His bounteous gift! or saw him toward the deep Sink, with a retinue of flaming clouds Attended; then, my spirit was entranced
With joy exalted to beatitude;
The measure of my soul was filled with bliss, And holiest love; as earth, sea, air, with light, With pomp, with glory, with magnificence!
Those fervent raptures are for ever flown; And, since their date, my soul hath undergone Change manifold, for better or for worse: Yet cease I not to struggle, and aspire Heavenward; and chide the part of me that flags, Through sinful choice; or dread necessity On human nature from above imposed.
"Tis, by comparison, an easy task
Earth to despise; but, to converse with heaven- This is not easy:-to relinquish all
We have, or hope, of happiness and joy, And stand in freedom loosened from this world, I deem not arduous; but must needs confess That 'tis a thing impossible to frame Conceptions equal to the soul's desires; And the most difficult of tasks to keep Heights which the soul is competent to gain. -Man is of dust: ethereal hopes are his, Which, when they should sustain themselves aloft, Want due consistence; like a pillar of smoke, That with majestic energy from earth Rises; but, having reached the thinner air, Melts, and dissolves, and is no longer seen. From this infirmity of mortal kind Sorrow proceeds, which else were not; at least, If grief be something hallowed and ordained, If, in proportion, it be just and meet, Yet, through this weakness of the general heart, Is it enabled to maintain its hold In that excess which conscience disapproves. For who could sink and settle to that point Of selfishness; so senseless who could be As long and perseveringly to mourn For any object of his love, removed From this unstable world, if he could fix A satisfying view upon that state Of pure, imperishable, blessedness, Which reason promises, and holy writ Ensures to all believers?Yet mistrust Is of such incapacity, methinks,
No natural branch; despondency far less; And, least of all, is absolate despair. -And, if there be whose tender frames have drooped Even to the dust; apparently, through weight Of anguish unrelieved, and lack of power An agonizing sorrow to transmute; Deem not that proof is here of hope withheld When wanted most; a confidence impaired So pitiably, that, having ceased to see
With bodily eyes, they are borne down by love Of what is lost, and perish through regret. Oh! no, the innocent Sufferer often sees Too clearly; feels too vividly; and longs To realize the vision, with intense
And over-constant yearning;-there-there lies The excess, by which the balance is destroyed. Too, too contracted are these walls of flesh, This vital warmth too cold, these visual orbs, Though inconceivably endowed, too dim For any passion of the soul that leads To ecstasy; and, all the crooked paths
Of time and change disdaining, takes its course Along the line of limitless desires.
I, speaking now from such disorder free, Nor rapt, nor craving, but in settled peace, I cannot doubt that they whom you deplore Are glorified; or, if they sleep, shall wake From sleep, and dwell with God in endless love. Hope, below this, consists not with belief In mercy, carried infinite degrees Beyond the tenderness of human hearts: Hope, below this, consists not with belief In perfect wisdom, guiding mightiest power, That finds no limits but her own pure will.
Here then we rest; not fearing for our creed The worst that human reasoning can achieve, To unsettle or perplex it: yet with pain Acknowledging, and grievous self-reproach, That, though immovably convinced, we want Zeal, and the virtue to exist by faith
As soldiers live by courage; as, by strength Of heart, the sailor fights with roaring seas. Alas! the endowment of immortal power Is matched unequally with custom, time, And domineering faculties of sense In all; in most with superadded foes, Idle temptations; open vanities, Ephemeral offspring of the unblushing world; And, in the private regions of the mind, Ill-governed passions, ranklings of despite, Immoderate wishes, pining discontent, Distress and care.
Of conscience-conscience reverenced and obeyed, As God's most intimate presence in the soul, And his most perfect image in the world. -Endeavour thus to live; these rules regard; These helps solicit; and a stedfast seat Shall then be yours among the happy few Who dwell on earth, yet breathe empyreal air, Sons of the morning. For your nobler part, Ere disencumbered of her mortal chains, Doubt shall be quelled and trouble chased away; With only such degree of sadness left As may support longings of pure desire; And strengthen love, rejoicing secretly In the sublime attractions of the grave."
While, in this strain, the venerable Sage Poured forth his aspirations, and announced His judgments, near that lonely house we paced A plot of green-sward, seemingly preserved By nature's care from wreck of scattered stones, And from encroachment of encircling heath: Small space! but, for reiterated steps, Smooth and commodious; as a stately deck Which to and fro the mariner is used To tread for pastime, talking with his mates, Or haply thinking of far-distant friends, While the ship glides before a steady breeze. Stillness prevailed around us: and the voice That spake was capable to lift the soul Toward regions yet more tranquil. But, methought, That he, whose fixed despondency had given Impulse and motive to that strong discourse, Was less upraised in spirit than abashed; Shrinking from admonition, like a man Who feels that to exhort is to reproach. Yet not to be diverted from his aim, The Sage continued:-
"For that other loss,
The loss of confidence in social man,
By the unexpected transports of our age Carried so high, that every thought, which looked Beyond the temporal destiny of the Kind, To many seemed superfluous-as, no cause
What then remains?-To seek Could e'er for such exalted confidence
Those helps for his occasions ever near Who lacks not will to use them; vows, renewed On the first motion of a holy thought; Vigils of contemplation; praise; and prayer— A stream, which, from the fountain of the heart Issuing, however feebly, nowhere flows Without access of unexpected strength. But, above all, the victory is most sure For him, who, seeking faith by virtue, strives To yield entire submission to the law
Exist; so, none is now for fixed despair: The two extremes are equally disowned By reason: if, with sharp recoil, from one You have been driven far as its opposite, Between them seek the point whereon to build Sound expectations. So doth he advise Who shared at first the illusion; but was soon Cast from the pedestal of pride by shocks Which Nature gently gave, in woods and fields; Nor unreproved by Providence, thus speaking
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