A look or motion of intelligence
From infant conning of the Christ-cross-row,
Or puzzling through a primer, line by line,
Till perfect mastery crown the pains at last.
What kindly warmth from touch of fostering hand,
What penetrating power of sun or breeze,
Shall e'er dissolve the crust wherein his soul
Sleeps, like a caterpillar sheathed in ice?
This torpor is no pitiable work
Of modern ingenuity; no town
Nor crowded city may be taxed with aught
Of sottish vice or desperate breach of law,
To which in after years he may be roused.
This boy the fields produce: his spade and hoe----
The carter's whip that on his shoulder rests
In air high-towering with a boorish pomp,
The sceptre of his sway; his country's name,
Her equal rights, her churches and her schools-
What have they done for him? And, let me ask,
For tens of thousands uninformed as he?
In brief, what liberty of mind is here?"
This ardent sally pleased the mild good man,
To whom the appeal couched in its closing words
Was pointedly addressed; and to the thoughts
That, in assent or opposition, rose
Within his mind, he seemed prepared to give
Prompt utterance; but, rising from our seat,
The hospitable vicar interposed
With invitation urgently renewed.
We followed, taking as he led, a path
Along a hedge of hollies, dark and tall,
Whose flexile boughs, descending with a weight
Of leafy spray, concealed the stems and roots
That gave them nourishment. When frosty winds
Howl from the north, what kindly warmth methought
Is here, how grateful this impervious screen!
Not shaped by simple wearing of the foot
On rural business passing to and fro
Was the commodious walk; a careful hand
Had marked the line, and strewn the surface o'er
With pure cerulean gravel, from the heights
Fetched by the neighbouring brook.-Across the vale
The stately fence accompanied our steps;
And thus the pathway, by perennial green
Guarded and graced, seemed fashioned to unite,
As by a beautiful yet solemn chain,
The pastor's mansion with the house of prayer.
Like image of solemnity, conjoined
With feminine allurement soft and fair,
The mansion's self displayed ;-a reverend pile
With bold projections and recesses deep;
Shadowy, yet gay and lightsome as it stood
Fronting the noontide sun. We paused to admire
The pillared porch, elaborately embossed;
The low wide windows with their mullions old;
The cornice richly fretted, of grey stone;
And that smooth slope from which the dwelling rose,
By beds and banks Arcadian of gay flowers
And flowering shrubs, protected and adorned;
Profusion bright! and every flower assuming
A more than natural vividness of hue,
From unaffected contrast with the gloom
Of sober cypress, and the darker foil
Of yew, in which survived some traces, here
Not unbecoming, of grotesque device
And uncouth fancy. From behind the roof
Rose the slim ash and massy sycamore,
Blending their diverse foliage with the green
Of ivy, flourishing and thick, that clasped
The huge round chimneys, harbour of delight
For wren and redbreast,-where they sit and sing
Their slender ditties when the trees are bare.
Nor must I leave untouched (the picture else
Were incomplete) a relique of old times
Happily spared, a little Gothic niche
Of nicest workmanship; that once had held
The sculptured image of some patron saint,
Or of the blessed Virgin looking down
On all who entered those religious doors.
But lo! where from the rocky garden mount
Crowned by its antique summer-house, descends,
Light as the silver fawn, a radiant girl :
For she hath recognized her honoured friend,
The Wanderer ever welcome! A prompt kiss
The gladsome child bestows at his request;
And, up the flowery lawn as we advance,
Hangs on the old man with a happy look,
And with a pretty restless hand of love.
We enter-by the lady of the place
Cordially greeted. Graceful was her port:
A lofty stature undepressed by time,
Whose visitation had not wholly spared
The finer lineaments of form and face;
To that complexion brought which prudence trusts in And wisdom loves.-But when a stately ship
Sails in smooth weather by the placid coast
On homeward voyage, what-if wind and wave,
And hardship undergone in various climes,
Have caused her to abate the virgin pride,
And that full trim of inexperienced hope
With which she left her haven-not for this,
Should the sun strike her, and the impartial breeze
Play on her streamers, fails she to assume
Brightness and touching beauty of her own,
That charm all eyes. So bright, so fair, appeared
This goodly matron, shining in the beams
Of unexpected pleasure. Soon the board
Was spread, and we partook a plain repast.
Here, resting in cool shelter, we beguiled
The mid-day hours with desultory talk:
From trivial themes to general argument
Passing, as accident or fancy led,
Or courtesy prescribed. While question rose
And answer flowed, the fetters of reserve
Dropping from every mind, the Solitary
Resumed the manners of his happier days;
And, in the various conversation, bore
A willing, nay, at times, a forward part;
Yet with the grace of one who in the world
Had learned the art of pleasing, and had now
Occasion given him to display his skill,
Upon the steadfast vantage ground of truth.
He gazed with admiration un:::ppressed
Upon the landscape of the sun-bright vale,
Seen, from the shady room in which we sate,
In softened perspective; and more than once
Praised the consummate harmony serene
Of gravity and elegance-diffused
Around the mansion and its whole domain;
Not, doubtless, without help of female taste
And female care.-"A blessed lot is yours!"
The words escaped his lip with a tender sigh
Breathed over them; but suddenly the door
Flew open, and a pair of lusty boys
Appeared-confusion checking their delight.
Not brothers they in feature or attire,
But fond companions, so I guessed, in field,
And by the river's margin-whence they come,
Anglers elated with unusual spoil.
One bears a willow-panier on his back,
The boy of plair.er garb, whose blush survives
More deeply tinged. Twin might the other be
To that fair girl who from the garden mount
Bounded triumphant entry this for him.
Between his hands he holds a smooth blue stone
On whose capacious surface see outspread
Large store of gleaming crimson-spotted trouts ;
Ranged side by side, and lessening by degrees
Up to the dwarf that tops the pinnacle.
Upon the board he lays the sky-blue stone
With its rich freight ;-their number he proclaims :
Tells from what pool the noblest had been dragged ;
And where the very monarch of the brook,
After long struggle, had escaped at last-
Stealing alternately at them and us
(As doth his comrade too) a look of pride.
And verily the silent creatures made
A splendid sight, together thus exposed;
Dead-but not sullied or deformed by death,
That seemed to pity what he could not spare.
But oh, the animation in the mien
Of those two boys! Yea, in the very words
With which the young narrator was inspired,
When, as our questions led, he told at large
Of that day's prowess! Him might I compare,
His look, tones, gestures, eager eloquence,
To a bold brook that splits for better speed,
And, at the self-same moment, works its way
Through many channels, ever and anon
Parted and reunited: his compeer
To the still lake, whose stillness is to sight
As beautiful, as grateful to the mind.
But to what object shall the lovely girl
Be likened? She whose countenance and air
Unite the graceful qualities of both,
Even as she shares the pride and joy of both.
My gray-haired friend was moved; his vivid eye
Glistened with tenderness; his mind, I knew,
Was full; and had, I doubted not, returned,
Upon this impulse, to the theme-erewhile
Abruptly broken-off. The ruddy boys
Withdrew, on summons to their well-earned meal;
And he (to whom all tongues resigned their rights
With willingness, to whom the general ear
Listened with readier patience than to strain
Of music, lute, or harp,-a long delight
That ceased not when his voice had ceased) as one
Who from truth's central point serenely views
The compass of his argument,-began
Mildly, and with a clear and steady tone.
Wanderer asserts that an active principle pervades the universe-Its noblest seat the human soul -How lively this principle is in childhood-Hence the delight in old age of looking back upon childhood-The dignity, powers, and privileges of age asserted-These not to be looked for generally but under a just government-Right of a human creature to be exempt from being considered as a mere instrument-Vicious inclinations are best kept under by giving good ones an opportunity to show themselves-The condition of multitudes deplored from want of due respect to this truth on the part of their superiors in society-Former conversation recurred to, and the Wanderer's opinions set in a clearer light-Genuine principles of equality-Truth placed within reach of the humblest.-Happy state of the two boys again adverted to-Earnest wish expressed for a system of national education established universally by government-Glorious effects of this foretold-Wanderer breaks off-Walk to the lake-Embark-Description of scenery and amusements-Grand spectacle from the side of a hill-Address of priest to the Supreme Being-in the course of which he contrasts with ancient barbarism the present appearance of the scene before him-The change ascribed to Christianity-Apostrophe to his flock, living and dead-Gratitude to the Almighty-Return over the lake-Parting with the Solitary-Under what circumstances.
DISCOURSE OF THE WANDERER, AND AN EVENING VISIT
To every form of being is assigned,"
Thus calmly spake the venerable sage,
"An active principle: howe'er removed
From sense and observation, it subsists
In all things, in all natures, in the stars
Of azure heaven, the unenduring clouds,
In flower and tree, in every pebbly stone
That paves the brooks, the stationary rocks,
The moving waters, and the invisible air.
Whate'er exists hath properties that spread
Beyond itself, communicating good,
A simple blessing, or with evil mixed;
Spirit that knows no insulated spot,
No chasm, no solitude; from link to link
It circulates, the soul of all the worlds.
This is the freedom of the universe;
Unfolded still the more, more visible,
The more we know; and yet is reverenced least,
And least respected, in the human mind,
Its most apparent home. The food of hope
Is meditated action; robbed of this
Her sole support, she languishes and dies.
We perish also; for we live by hope
And by desire; we see by the glad light,
And breathe the sweet air of futurity,
And so we live, or else we have no life.
To-morrow-nay, perchance this very hour,
(For every moment hath its own to-morrow!)
Those blooming boys, whose hearts are almost sick
With present triumph, will be sure to find
A field before them freshened with the dew
Of other expectations ;-in which course
Their happy year spins round. The youth obeys
A like glad impulse; and so moves the man
'Mid all his apprehensions, cares, and fears,-
Or so he ought to move. Ah, why in age
Do we revert so fondly to the walks
Of childhood-but that there the soul discerns
The dear memorial footsteps unimpaired
Of her own native vigour-thence can hear
Reverberations; and a choral song,
Commingling with the incense that ascends
Undaunted, toward the imperishable heavens,
From her own lonely altar?-Do not think
That good and wise will ever be allowed,
Though strength decay, to breathe in such estate
As shall divide them wholly from the stir
Of hopeful nature. Rightly is it said
That man descends into the Vale of years;
Yet have I thought that we might also speak,
And not presumptuously, I trust, of age,
As of a final Eminence, though bare
In aspect and forbidding, yet a point
On which 'tis not impossible to sit
In awful sovereignty-a place of power
A throne, that may be likened unto his,
Who, in some placid day of summer, looks
Down from a mountain-top,-say one of those
High peaks that bound the vale where now we are.
Faint, and diminished to the gazing eye,
Forest and field, and hill and dale appear,
With all the shapes upon their surface spread:
But, while the gross and visible frame of things
Relinquishes its hold upon the sense,
Yea, almost on the mind herself, and seems
All unsubstantialized, -how loud the voice
Of waters, with invigorated peal
From the full river in the vale below,
|