CHAPTER II. 'There's a divinity that shapes our ends, Shakespeare. - Wordsworth makes a tour in North Wales Is urged to enter the Church-His misgivings-He revisits France (Nov., 1791) during the Revolution-His sympathy with the movement-Becomes a patriot-Associates with the military officers in Paris Forms a friendship with Beaupuis at Orleans-Proceeds thence to Blois-Returns to Paris, and finds France a Republic-Hears Robespierre denounced-Is compelled to return to England-Is again urged to embrace the clerical profession - Obstacles in the way - Deplores the results of the Revolution-Is opposed to the Bar-Annoyance of his relatives—' An Evening Walk' (1793)- Descriptive Sketches' (1793)→ Visits the Isle of Wight, where Raisley Calvert lies illSpends his time afterwards in visiting his friends-His dreary prospects-Contemplates starting the Philanthropist -Hears of the fall of Robespierre-His thankfulness thereupon-Is reduced to extremity, and seeks employment on the Metropolitan press-Raisley Calvert dies, and leaves him £900 (1795)-Is restored to the companionship of his sister Dorothy. AFTER leaving Cambridge, and spending about four months in London, Wordsworth made a tour on foot through North Wales, with his friend Jones; and, if we may judge from some of the sights they saw, the excursion must indeed have been an enjoy able one. We can picture to ourselves the two travellers plodding slowly along the road side by side, each with his little knapsack of necessaries upon his shoulders.' Wordsworth especially must have drank in the beauty and grandeur of the scenery through which they passed, and he refers, in a dedicatory epistle to his fellow-traveller, to 'the sea-sunsets, which give such splendour to the Vale of Clwyd, Snowdon, the Chair of Idris, the quiet village of Bethgelert, Menai and her Druids, the Alpine steeps of the Conway, and the still more interesting windings of the wizard stream of the Dee.' About this time the influence of his relatives was brought to bear upon him with regard to entering the Church, but he was not yet of age for ordination. He had grave misgivings, moreover, as to his general fitness for holy orders, as we shall see presently; and, without making up his mind. respecting his future career, in November, 1791, he again set out for France. On this occasion he travelled alone. He made his way to Paris, and remained there some little time; but he soon quitted it for Orleans, where he might be more retired, for the purpose of studying the language. His stay in France extended to some thirteen months, during which period he witnessed much that he could never forget. Those were stirring times. The Revolution was raging far and wide like a tempest. Wordsworth, like most youthful poets -Coleridge and Southey amongst the number-was a violent republican, and he hailed the event with feelings of intense ardour, looking forward to the advent of a new and glorious era of liberty and happiness to mankind. No wonder, therefore, that he, in all the enthusiasm of poetic fervour, allowed himself to be sucked into the vortex of the political excitement. It would have been more remarkable had he escaped the danger. "'Twas in truth an hour He had welcomed the inception of the Revolution in thrilling terms: 'Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive, He lived long enough, however, to find that he had been wofully mistaken, and to change his opinions; and in later life he became a Conservative. But this by the way. On his arrival in Paris, where he stayed a few days, he visited many places of old or recent fame :' 'In both her clamorous Halls, The National Synod and the Jacobins, I saw the Revolutionary Power Toss like a ship at anchor, rocked by storms.' He wandered about staring and listening to bands haranguing in the streets, and gathered up a stone from the ruins of the Bastile, which, in his infatuation, he placed in his pocket, as a precious relic. He became a patriot, and gave his heart to the people. He associated with the officers of the military stationed in the city. At Orleans he became the intimate friend of Beaupuis, the gallant republican general, with whom in solitude he often discoursed 'About the end Of civil government, and its wisest forms; And ignorance in the labouring multitude.' Their most frequent walk was along the banks of the beautiful Loire 'With festal mirth Resounding at all hours, and innocent yet Or in wide forests of continuous shade, Lofty and over-arched, with open space Beneath the trees, clear footing many a mile A solemn region.' He pays a noble, glowing tribute to the memory of this brave officer, philosopher, and patriot, who 'Perished fighting, in supreme command, Upon the borders of the unhappy Loire For liberty, against deluded men, His fellow country-men.' From Orleans he proceeded in the spring to Blois. Longfellow charmingly describes this region, which, he says, 'is justly called the garden of France. From Orleans to Blois, the whole valley of the Loire is one continued vineyard. The bright green foliage of the vine spreads, like the undulations of the sea, over all the landscape, with here and there a silver flash of the river, a sequestered hamlet, or the towers of an old château, to enliven and variegate the scene.' On his return to Paris in the autumn, 'From his throne The King had fallen, and that invading host- Had burst innocuous.' France had been declared a Republic. The nobility and all titles of distinction had been swept away as by a flood, and all were alike commoners. Manifestations of rejoicing were on every hand; the air echoed and re-echoed with the roll of drums and volleys of musketry; whilst multitudes paraded the streets to the inspiring strains of the 'Marseillaise.' Cheered with hope, he 'Ranged, with ardour heretofore unfelt, |