The illustrious wife of Roland, in the hour
Of her composure, felt that agony,
And gave it vent in her last words. O Friend!
It was a lamentable time for man,
Whether a hope had e'er been his or not;
A woful time for them whose hopes survived
The shock; most woful for those few who still
Were flattered, and had trust in human kind:
They had the deepest feeling of the grief.
Meanwhile the Invaders fared as they deserved:
The Herculean Commonwealth had put forth
her arms,

And throttled with an infant godhead's might
The snakes about her cradle; that was well,
And as it should be; yet no cure for them
Whose souls were sick with pain of what
would be

Hereafter brought in charge against mankind. Most melancholy at that time, O Friend! Were my day-thoughts,-my nights were miserable;

Through months, through years, long after the last beat

Of those atrocities, the hour of sleep
To me came rarely charged with natural gifts,
Such ghastly visions had I of despair
And tyranny, and implements of death;
And innocent victims sinking under fear,
And momentary hope, and worn-out prayer,
Each in his separate cell, or penned in crowds
For sacrifice, and struggling with fond mirth
And levity in dungeons, where the dust
Was laid with tears. Then suddenly the scene
Changed, and the unbroken dream entangled

Making man what he is, creature divine,
In single or in social eminence,
Above the rest raised infinite ascents
When reason that enables him to be
Is not sequestered-what a change is here!
How different ritual for this after-worship,
What countenance to promote this second love!
The first was service paid to things which lie
Guarded within the bosom of Thy will.
Therefore to serve was high beatitude;
Tumult was therefore gladness, and the fear
Ennobling, venerable; sleep secure,
And waking thoughts more rich than happiest

dreams.

But as the ancient Prophets, borne aloft In vision, yet constrained by natural laws With them to take a troubled human heart, Wanted not consolations, nor a creed Of reconcilement, then when they denounced, On towns and cities, wallowing in the abyss

Of their offences, punishment to come.
Or saw, like other men, with bodily eyes,
Before them, in some desolated place,
The wrath consummate and the threat fulfilled
So, with devout humility be it said,
So did a portion of that spirit fall

On me uplifted from the vantage-ground
Of pity and sorrow to a state of being
That through the time's exceeding fierceness

saw

Glimpses of retribution, terrible,

And in the order of sublime behests:
But, even if that were not, amid the awe
Of unintelligible chastisement,
Not only acquiescences of faith
Survived, but daring sympathies with power,
Motions not treacherous or profane, else why
Within the folds of no ungentle breast
Their dread vibration to this hour prolonged?
Wild blasts of music thus could find their way
Into the midst of turbulent events;

So that worst tempests might be listened to.
Then was the truth received into my heart,
That, under heaviest sorrow earth can bring,
If from the affliction somewhere do not grow
Honour which could not else have been, a faith,
An elevation, and a sanctity,

If new strength be not given nor old restored.
The blame is ours, not Nature's. When a tau 1
Was taken up by scoffers in their pride,
Saying, "Behold the harvest that we reap
From popular government and equality."
I clearly saw that neither these nor augat
Of wild belief engrafted on their names
By false philosophy had caused the woe,
But a terrific reservoir of guilt

And ignorance filled up from age to age,
That could no longer hold its loathsome charge,
But burst and spread in deluge through the
land.

street,

Triumphal pomp for liberty confirmed,
I paced, a dear companion at my side,
The town of Arras, whence with promise high
Issued, on delegation to sustain
He who thereafter, and in how short time!
Humanity and right, that Robespierre,
Wielded the sceptre of the Atheist crew.
When the calamity spread far and wide-
And this same city, that did then appear
To outrun the rest in exultation, groaned
Under the vengeance of her cruel son,
As Lear reproached the winds-I could almost
Have quarrelled with that blameless spectacle

For lingering yet an image in my mind
To mock me under such a strange reverse.
O Friend! few happier moments have been

mine

Than that which told the downfall of this Tribe
So dreaded, so abhorred. The day deserves
A separate record. Over the smooth sands
Of Leven's ample estuary lay

My journey, and beneath a genial sun,
With distant prospect among gleams of sky
And clouds, and intermingling mountain tops,
In one inseparable glory clad,
Creatures of one ethereal substance met
In consistory, like a diadem

Or crown of burning seraphs as they sit
In the empyrean. Underneath that pomp
Celestial, lay unseen the pastoral vales
Among whose happy fields I had grown up
From childhood. On the fulgent spectacle,
That neither passed away nor changed, I gazed
Enrapt; but brightest things are wont to draw
Sad opposites out of the inner heart,

As even their pensive influence drew from mine.

How could it otherwise? for not in vain
That very morning had I turned aside
To seek the ground where, 'mid a throng of

graves,

An honoured teacher of my youth was laid,
And on the stone were graven by his desire
Lines from the churchyard elegy of Gray.
This faithful guide, speaking from his death.

bed,

Added no farewell to his parting counsel,
But said to me, "My head will soon lie low;
And when I saw the turf that covered him,

After the lapse of full eight years, those words,

With sound of voice and countenance of the
Man,

Came back upon me, so that some few tears
Fell from me in my own despite. But now
I thought, still traversing that widespread

plain,

With tender pleasure of the verses graven
Upon his tombstone, whispering to myself:
He loved the Poets, and, if now alive,
Would have loved me, as one rot destitute
Of promise, nor belying the kind hope

That he had formed, when I, at his command,
Began to spin, with toil, my earliest songs.

As I advanced, all that I saw or felt

Was gentleness and peace. Upon a small
And rocky island near, a fragment stood
(Itself like a sea rock) the low remains

FRANCE.

CONCLUDED.

409

Not far from that still ruin all the plain
Lay spotted with a variegated crowd
Of vehicles and travellers, horse and foot,
Wading beneath the conduct of their guide
In loose procession through the shallow stream
Of inland waters; the great sea meanwhile
Heaved at safe distance, far retired. I paused,
Longing for skill to paint a scene so bright
And cheerful, but the foremost of the band
As he approache 1, no salutation given
In the familiar language of the day,
Cried, "Robespierre is dead!"-nor was a
doubt,

That he and his supporters all were fallen.
After strict question, left within my mind

Great was my transport, deep my gratitude
To everlasting Justice, by this fiat
Made manifest. "Come now, ye golden

times," A hymn of triumph: "as the morning comes Said I forth-pouring on those open sands From out the bosom of the night, come ye: Thus far our trust is verified; behold! They who with clumsy desperation brought A river of Blood, and preached that nothing

else

Could cleanse the Augean stable, by the might Of their own helper have been swept away; Their madness stands declared and visible: March firmly towards righteousness and Elsewhere will safety now be sought, and earth

peace.

Then schemes I framed more calmly, when and how

The madding factions might be tranquillised,
And how through hardships manifold and long
The glorious renovation would proceed.
Thus interrupted by uneasy bursts

Of exultation, I pursued my way

Along that very shore which I had skimmed
In former days, when-spurring from the Vale
Of Nightshade, and St Mary's mouldering
fane,

And the stone abbot, after circuit made
In wantonness of heart, a joyous band
Of school-boys hastering to their distant home
Along the margin of the moonlight sea-
We beat with thundering hoofs the level sand

FROM that time forth, Authority in France
Put on a milder face; Terror had ceased,
Yet everything was wanting that might give
Courage to them who looked for good by light
Of rational Experience, for the shoots
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

To daunt ine; in the People was my trust:
And, in the virtues which mine eyes had seen,
I knew that wound external could not take
Life from the young Republic; that new foes
Would only follow, in the path of shame,
Their brethren, and her triumphs be in the end
Great, universal, irresistibl

This intuition led me to confound

One victory with another, higher far,-
Triumphs of unambitious peace at home,
And noiseless fortitude. Beholding still
Resistance strong as heretofore, I thought
That what was in degree the same was likewise

peers

At gravest heads, by enmity to France
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
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,
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 per-

formed

To turn all judgments out of their right course;
But this is passion over-near ourselves,
Reality too close and too intense,

And intermixed with something, in my mind,
Of scorn and condemnation personal,
That would profane the sanctity 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; they who ruled the State,
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)
The plain straight road, for one no better
chosen

Than if their wish had been to undermine
Justice, and make an end of Liberty.

But from these bitter truths I must return
To my own history. It hath been told
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,

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 passion, and sublime in power,
Benevolent in small societies,

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;
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
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
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!
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! O times,
In which the meagre, stale, forbidding ways
Of custom, law, and statute, took at once
The attraction of a country in romance!
When Reason seemed the most to assert her

rights

When most intent on making of herself
A prime enchantress-to assist the work
Which then was going forward in her name!
Not favoured spots alone, but the whole Earth,
(As at some moments might not be unfelt
The beauty wore of promise-that which sets
The budding rose above the rose full blown
Among the bowers of Paradise itself)
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,
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,
As if they had within some lurking right
And dealt with whatsoever they found there
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:-
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,-

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

To me what an inheritance, new-fallen,
Seems, when the first time visited, to ope

Who thither comes to find in it his home!
He walks about and looks upon the spot
With cordial transport, moulds it and iemoulds,
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 circumstance
To suit my ends; I moved among mankind
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
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
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,
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.
This threw me first out of the pale of love;
Soured and corrupted, upwards to the source,
My sentiments; was not, as hitherto,
A swallowing up of lesser things in great,
But change of them into their contraries;
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;
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,
I had but sent a careless ear, assured
That time was ready to set all things right,
And that the multitude, so long oppressed,
Would be oppressed no more.

But when events Brought less encouragement, and unto these 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

No longer keep their ground, by faith main

tained

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 eisewhere.

But now, become oppressors in their turn, Frenchmen had changed a war of self-defence For one of conquest, losing sight of all Which they had struggled for: up mounted

now,

Openly in the eye of earth and heaven,
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

Of mortified presumption, I adhered
More firmly to old tenets, and, to prove
Their temper, strained them inore; and thus,
in heat

Of contest, did opinions every day
Grow into consequence, till round my mind
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
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 passions had the privilege to work,
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!
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,
Which, to the blind restraints of general laws
Superior, magisterially adopts

One guide, the light of circumstances, flashed
Upon an independent intellect.

Thus expectation rose again; thus hope,
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
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 noble aspiration! yet I feel
(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
Of ancient Institutions 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 institutes,
Too justly bore a part. A veil had been
"Twas even so; and sorrow for the man
Uplifted; why deceive ourselves? in sooth,
Who either had not eyes wherewith to see,
Or, seeing, had forgotten! A strong shock
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
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,
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
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
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,
Suspiciously, to establish in plain day
Her titles and her honours; now believing,
Now disbelieving; endlessly perplexed
With impulse, motive, right and wrong, the
ground

Of obligation, what the rule and whence
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.

This was the crisis of that strong disease,
This the soul's last and lowest ebb; I drooped,
Deeming our blessèd reason of least use
Where wanted most: "The lordly attributes
Of will and choice," I bitterly exclaimed,
"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
Be little profited, would see, and ask
Where is the obligation to enforce?
And, to acknowledged law rebellious, still,
As selfish passion urged, would act amiss;
The dupe of folly, or the slave of crime.'

Depressed, bewildered thus, I did not walk,
With scoffers, seeking light and gay revenge
From indiscriminate laughter, nor sate down
In reconcilement with an utter waste
Of intellect; such sloth I could not brook,
(Too well I loved, in that my spring of life,
Pains-taking thoughts, and truth, their dear
reward)

But turned to abstract science, and there sought
Work for the reasoning faculty enthroned
Where the disturbances of space and time-
Whether in matters various, properties
Inherent, or from human will and power
Derived-find no admission. Then it was-
Thanks to the bounteous Giver of all good!-
That the beloved Sister in whose sight
Those days were passed, now speaking in a

voice

Of sudden admonition-like a brook
That did but cross a lonely road, and now
Is seen, heard, felt, and caught at every turn,
Companion never lost through many a league-
Maintained for me a saving intercourse
With my true self; for, though bedimmed and
changed

Much, as it seemed, I was no further changed
Than as a clouded and a waning moon:
She whispered still that brightness would return,
She, in the midst of all, preserved me still
A Poet, made me seek beneath that name,
And that alone, my office upon earth;
And, lastly, as hereafter will be shown,
If willing audience fail not, Nature's self,
By all varieties of human love

Assisted, led me back through opening day To those sweet counsels between head and heart

Whence grew that genuine knowledge, fraught with peace,

Which, through the later sinkings of this cause,
Hath still upheld me, and upholds me now
In the catastrophe (for so they dream,
And nothing less), when, finally to close
And seal up all the gains of France, a Pope
Is summoned in, to crown an Emperor-
This last opprobrium, when we see a people,
That once looked up in faith, as if to Heaven
For manna, take a lesson from the dog
Returning to his vomit; when the sun
That rose in splendour, was alive, and moved
In exultation with a living pomp

Of clouds--his glory's natural retinue-
Hath dropped all functions by the gods be
stowed,

And, turned into a gewgaw, a machine,
Sets like an Opera phantom.

Through times of honour and through times of
Thus, O Friend!

shame

Descending, have I faithfully retraced
The perturbations of a youthful mind
Under a long-lived storm of great events-
A story destined for thy ear, who now,
Among the fallen of nations, dost abide
His shadow stretching towards Syracuse,
Where Etna, over hill and valley, casts
The city of Timoleon! Righteous Heaven!
How are the mighty prostrated! They first,
They first of all that breathe, should have
awaked

When the great voice was heard from out the tombs

Of ancient heroes. If I suffered grief
For ill-requited France, by many deemed
A trifler only in her proudest day;
Have been distressed to think of what she once
Promised, now is; a far more sober cause
Thine eyes must see of sorrow in a land,
To the reanimating influence lost
Of memory, to virtue lost and hope,
Though with the wreck of loftier years be-

strewn.

But indignation works where hope is not, And thou, O Friend! wilt be refreshed. There is

One great society alone on earth:
The noble Living and the noble Dead.

Thine be such converse strong and sanative,