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 loosen'd 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 reach'd 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 hallow'd and ordain'd,
If, in proportion, it be just and meet,
Through this, 'tis able 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, if there be whose tender frames have droop'd
E'en to the dust; apparently, through weight
Of anguish unrelieved, and lack of power
An agonizing sorrow to transmute,
Infer not hence a hope from those withheld
When wanted most; a confidence impair'd
So pitiably, that, having ceased to see

With bodily eyes, they are borne down by love
Of what is lost, and perish through regret.
O! no, full oft th' innocent sufferer sees
Too clearly; feels too vividly; and longs
To realize the vision, with intense

And over-constant yearning-there-there lies
Th' excess, by which the balance is destroy'd.
Too, too contracted are these walls of flesh,
This vital warmth too cold, these visual orbs,
Though inconceivably endow'd, 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,
T' 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! th' endowment of immortal power
Is match'd unequally with custom, time,
And domineering faculties of sense
In all; in most with superadded foes,
Idle temptations, open vanities,
Ephemeral offspring of th' unblushing world;
And, in the private regions of the mind,
Ill govern'd passions, ranklings of despite,
Immoderate wishes, pining discontent,
Distress and care. What then remains? To seek
Those helps, for his occasions ever near,
Who lacks not will to use them; vows, renew'd
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

Of conscience; conscience reverenced and obey'd,
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 steadfast 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 disencumber'd of her mortal chains,
Doubt shall be quell'd 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
Pour'd forth his aspirations, and announced
His judgments, near that lonely house we paced
A plot of greensward, seemingly preserved
By nature's care from wreck of scatter'd 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 prevail'd around us; and the voice,
That spake, was capable to lift the soul
Toward regions yet more tranquil. But, methought
That he, whose fix'd despondency had given
Impulse and motive to that strong discourse,
Was less upraised in spirit than abash'd,
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 th' unexpected transports of our age
Carried so high, that every thought, which look'd
Beyond the temporal destiny of the kind

To many seem'd superfluous: as, no cause
For such exalted confidence could e'er
Exist; so none is now for fix'd despair;
The two extremes are equally disown'd
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
To the inattentive children of the world,
"Vainglorious generation! what new powers
On you have been conferr'd? what gifts, withheld
From your progenitors, have ye received,
Fit recompense of new desert? what claim
Are ye prepared to urge, that my decrees
For you should undergo a sudden change;
And the weak functions of one busy day,
Reclaiming and extirpating, perform
What all the slowly moving years of time,
With their united force, have left undone ?
By nature's gradual processes be taught;
By story be confounded! Ye aspire
Rashly, to fall once more; and that false fruit
Which to your overweening spirits, yields
Hope of a flight celestial, will produce
Misery and shame. But wisdom of her sons
Shall not the less, though late, be justified.'
Such timely warning," said the wanderer, "gave
That visionary voice; and, at his day,
When a Tartarean darkness overspreads
The groaning nations; when the impious rule,
By will or by establish'd ordinance,

Their own dire agents, and constrain the good
To acts which they abhor; though I bewail
This triumph, yet the pity of my heart
Prevents me not from owning, that the law,
By which mankind now suffers, is most just.
For by superior energies; more strict
Affiance in each other; faith more firm
In their unhallow'd principles; the bad
Have fairly earn'd a victory o'er the weak,
The vacillating, inconsistent good.
Therefore, not unconsoled, I wait-in hope
To see the moment, when the righteous cause
Shall gain defenders zealous and devout

As they who have opposed her; in which virtue
Will, to her efforts, tolerate no bounds
That are not lofty as her rights; aspiring
By impulse of her own ethereal zeal.
That Spirit only can redeem mankind;
And when that sacred spirit shall appear,
Then shall our triumph be complete as theirs.
Yet, should this confidence prove vain, the wise
Have still the keeping of their proper peace;
Are guardians of their own tranquillity.
They act, or they recede, observe, and feel;
" Knowing the heart of man is set to be
The centre of this world, about the which
Those revolutions of disturbances

Still roll; where all the aspects of misery
Predominate whose strong effects are such
As he must bear, being powerless to redress;
And that unless above himself he can
Erect himself, how poor a thing is man!'

Happy is he who lives to understand-
Not human nature only, but explores
All natures, to the end that he may find
The law that governs each; and where begins
The union, the partition where, that makes
Kind and degree, among all visible beings;
The constitutions, powers, and faculties,
Which they inherit,-cannot step beyond,-
And cannot fall beneath; that do assign
To every class its station and its office,
Through all the mighty commonwealth of things;
Up from the creeping plant to sovereign man.
Such converse, if directed by a meek,
Sincere, and humble spirit, teaches love;
For knowledge is delight; and such delight
Breeds love: yet, suited as it rather is
To thought and to the climbing intellect,
It teaches less to love, than to adore;
If that be not indeed the highest love!"
"Yet," said I, tempted here to interpose,
"The dignity of life is not impair'd
By aught that innocently satisfies
The humbler cravings of the heart; and he
Is a still happier man, who, for those heights
Of speculation not unfit, descends;
And such benign affections cultivates
Among the inferior kinds; not merely those
That he may call his own, and which depend,
As individual objects of regard,

Upon his care,-from whom he also looks
For signs and tokens of a mutual bond,—
But others, far beyond this narrow sphere,
Whom, for the very sake of love, he loves.
Nor is it a mean praise of rural life
And solitude, that they do favour most,
Most frequently call forth, and best sustain
These pure sensations; that can penetrate
Th' obstreperous city; on the barren seas
Are not unfelt,—and much might recommend,
How much they might inspirit and endear,
The loneliness of this sublime retreat!"

66

"Yes," said the sage, resuming the discourse Again directed to his downcast friend,

If, with the froward will and grovelling soul Of man offended, liberty is here,

And invitation every hour renew'd,

To mark their placid state, who never heard
Of a command which they have power to break,
Or rule which they are tempted to transgress;
These, with a soothed or elevated heart,
May we behold; their knowledge register;
Observe their ways; and, free from envy, find
Complacence there: but wherefore this to you?
I guess that, welcome to your lonely hearth,
The redbreast feeds in winter from your hand;
A box, perchance, is from your casement hung
For the small wren to build in; not in vain,
The barriers disregarding that surround
This deep abiding-place, before your sight
Mounts on the breeze the butterfly-and soars,
Small creature as she is, from earth's bright flowers

Into the dewy clouds. Ambition reigns
In the waste wilderness: the soul ascends
Towards her native firmament of heaven,
When the fresh eagle, in the month of May,
Upborne, at evening, on replenish'd wing,
This shaded valley leaves,-and leaves the dark
Impurpled hills,-conspicuously renewing
A proud communication with the sun

Low sunk beneath the horizon! List! I heard,
From yon huge breast of rock, a solemn bleat;
Sent forth as if it were the mountain's voice,
As if the visible mountain made the cry.
Again!" The effect upon the soul was such
As he express'd; from out the mountain's heart
The solemn bleat appear'd to issue, startling
The blank air-for the region all around
Stood silent, empty of all shape of life;
It was a lamb-left somewhere to itself,
The plaintive spirit of the solitude!
He paused, as if unwilling to proceed,
Through consciousness that silence in such place
Was best, the most affecting eloquence.
But soon his thoughts return'd upon themselves,
And in soft tone of speech, he thus resumed.
"Ah! if the heart, too confidently raised,
Perchance too lightly occupied, or lull'd
Too easily, despise or overlook

The vassalage that binds her to the earth,
Her sad dependence upon time, and all
The trepidations of mortality,

What place so destitute and void-but there
The little flower her vanity shall check;
The training worm reprove her thoughtless pride?
"These craggy regions, these chaotic wilds
Does that benignity pervade, that warms
The mole contented with her darksome walk
In the cold ground; and to the emmet gives
Her foresight, and intelligence that makes
The tiny creatures strong by social league;
Supports the generations, multiplies

Their tribes, till we behold a spacious plain
Or grassy bottom, all, with little hills-
Their labour-cover'd, as a lake with waves;
Thousands of cities, in the desert place
Built up of life, and food, and means of life!
Nor wanting here, to entertain the thought,
Creatures that in communities exist,
Less, as might seem, for general guardianship,
Or through dependence upon mutual aid,
Than by participation of delight
And a strict love of fellowship, combined.
What other spirit can it be that prompts
The gilded summer flies to mix and weave
Their sports together in the solar beam,
Or in the gloom of twilight hum their joy?
More obviously, the self-same influence rules
The feather'd kinds; the fieldfare's pensive flock,
The cawing rooks, and seamews from afar,
Hovering above these inland solitudes,
By the rough wind unscatter'd, at whose call
Their voyage was begun : nor is its power
Unfelt among the sedentary fowl

That seek yon pool, and there prolong their stay
In silent congress; or together roused

Is the mute company of changeful clouds;
Bright apparition suddenly put forth,
The rainbow, smiling on the faded storm;
The mild assemblage of the starry heavens;
And the great sun, earth's universal lord!

"How bountiful is nature! he shall find
Who seeks not; and to him, who hath not ask'd,
Large measure shall be dealt. Three Sabbath-days
Are scarcely told, since, on a service bent
Of mere humanity, you clomb those heights;
And what a marvellous and heavenly show
Was to your sight reveal'd! the swains moved on
And heeded not; you linger'd, and perceived.
There is a luxury in self-dispraise;
And inward self-disparagement affords
To meditative spleen a grateful feast.
Trust me, pronouncing on your own desert,
You judge unthankfully; distemper'd nerves
Infect the thoughts: the languor of the frame
Depresses the soul's vigour. Quit your couch-
Cleave not so fondly to your moody cell;
Nor let the hallow'd powers, that shed from heaven
Stillness and rest, with disapproving eye
Look down upon your taper, through a watch
Of midnight hours, unseasonably twinkling
In this deep hollow, like a sullen star
Dimly reflected in a lonely pool.

Take courage, and withdraw yourself from ways
That run not parallel to nature's course.
Rise with the lark! your matins shall obtain
Grace, be their composition what it may,
If but with hers perform'd; climb once again,
Climb every day, those ramparts; meet the breeze
Upon their tops,-adventurous as a bee

That from your garden thither soars, to feed
On new blown heath; let yon commanding rock
Be your frequented watchtower; roll the stone
In thunder down the mountains: with all your
might

Chase the wild goat; and, if the bold red deer
Fly to these harbours, driven by hound and horn
Loud echoing, add your speed to the pursuit:
So, wearied to your hut shall you return,
And sink at evening into sound repose."
The solitary lifted toward the hills
A kindling eye; poetic feelings rush'd
Into my bosom, whence these words broke forth:
"O! what a joy it were, in vigorous health,
To have a body (this our vital frame
With shrinking sensibility endued,
And all the nice regards of flesh and blood)
And to the elements surrender it

As if it were a spirit! How divine,
The liberty, for frail, for mortal man
To roam at large among unpeopled glens
And mountainous retirements, only trod
By devious footsteps; regions consecrate
To oldest time! and, reckless of the storm
That keeps the raven quiet in her nest,
Be as a presence or a motion-one
Among the many there; and, while the mists
Flying, and rainy vapours, call out shapes
And phantoms from the crags and solid earth
As fast as a musician scatters sounds

(As at a first creation and in haste

To exercise their untried faculties)
Descending from the region of the clouds,
And starting from the hollows of the earth
More multitudinous every moment, rend
Their way before them-what a joy to roam
An equal among mightiest energies:
And haply sometimes with articulate voice,
Amid the deafening tumult, scarcely heard
By him that utters it, exclaim aloud,

Be this continued so from day to day,
Nor let the fierce commotion have an end,
Ruinous though it be, from month to month!" "

Yes," said the wanderer, taking from my lips
The strain of transport, "whosoe'er in youth
Has, through ambition of his soul, given way
To such desires, and grasp'd at such delight,
Shall feel congenial stirrings late and long,
In spite of all the weakness that life brings,
Its cares and sorrows; he though taught to own
The tranquillizing power of time, shall wake,
Wake sometimes to a noble restlessness-
Loving the sports which once he gloried in.
"Compatriot, friend, remote are Garry's hills,
The streams far distant of your native glen;
Yet is their form and image here express'd
With brotherly resemblance. Turn your steps
Wherever fancy leads, by day, by night,
Are various engines working, not the same
As those by which your soul in youth was moved,
But by the great Artificer endued

With no inferior power. You dwell alone:
You walk, you live, you speculate alone;
Yet doth remembrance, like a sovereign prince,
For you a stately gallery maintain

Of gay or tragic pictures. You have seen,
Have acted, suffer'd, travell'd far, observed
With no incurious eye; and books are yours,
Within whose silent chambers treasure lies
Preserved from age to age: more precious far
Than that accumulated store of gold

May issue thence, recruited for the tasks
And course of service truth requires from those
Who tend her altars, wait upon her throne,
And guard her fortresses. Who thinks, and feels,
And recognises ever and anon

The breeze of nature stirring in his soul,
Why need such man go desperately astray,
And nurse the dreadful appetite of death!'
If tired with systems-each in its degree
Substantial, and all crumbling in their turn,—
Let him build systems of his own, and smile
At the fond work, demolish'd with a touch;
If unreligious, let him be at once,
Among ten thousand innocents, enroll'd
A pupil in the many chamber'd school,
Where superstition weaves her airy dreams.
"Life's autumn past, I stand on winter's verge,
And daily lose what I desire to keep;
Yet rather would I instantly decline
To the traditionary sympathies
Of a most rustic ignorance, and take
A fearful apprehension from the owl
Or death-watch, and as readily rejoice,
If two auspicious magpies cross'd my way;
To this would rather bend than see and hear
The repetitions wearisome of sense,
Where soul is dead, and feeling hath no place;
Where knowledge, ill begun in cold remark
On outward things, with formal inference ends;
Or, if the mind turn inward, 'tis perplex'd,
Lost in a gloom of uninspired research;
Meanwhile, the heart within the heart, the seat
Where peace and happy consciousness should dwell,
On its own axis restlessly revolves,

Yet nowhere finds the cheering light of truth.
Upon the breast of new-created earth

Man walk'd; and when and wheresoe'er he moved,
Alone or mated, solitude was not.

He heard, upon the wind, the articulate voice
Of God; and angels to his sight appear'd,
Crowning the glorious hills of paradise ;
Or through the groves gliding like morning mist
Enkindled by the sun. He sate, and talk'd
With winged messengers; who daily brought
ethereal deep

heights

Hears, and forgets his purpose; furnish'd thus,
How can you droop, if willing to be raised?

"A piteous lot it were to flee from man-
Yet not rejoice in nature. He-whose hours
Are by domestic pleasures uncaress'd
And unenliven'd; who exists whole years
Apart from benefits received or done
'Mid the transactions of the bustling crowd;
Who neither hears, nor feels a wish to hear,
Of the world's interests-such a one hath need
Of a quick fancy, and an active heart,

That, for the day's consumption, books may yield
A not unwholesome food, and earth and air
Supply his morbid humour with delight.

Fell human kind-to banishment condemn'd
That flowing years repeal'd not; and distress
And grief spread wide; but man escaped the doom
Of destitution; solitude was not.

Jehovah-shapeless Power above all powers,
Single and one, the omnipresent God,

By vocal utterance, or blaze of light,
Or cloud of darkness, localized in heaven;
On earth enshrined within the wandering ark;

And easy contemplation,-gay parterres, And labyrinthine walks, her sunny glades And shady groves for recreation framed ; These may he range, if willing to partake Their soft indulgences, and in due time

Between the cherubim, on the chosen race Shower'd miracles, and ceased not to dispense Judgments, that fill'd the land from age to age With hope, and love, and gratitude, and fear; And with amazement smote: thereby t' assert

His scorn'd, or unacknowledged sovereignty.
And when the One, ineffable of name,
Of nature indivisible, withdrew
From mortal adoration or regard,

Not then was deity ingulf'd, nor man,

The rational creature, left, to feel the weight
Of his own reason, without sense or thought,
Of higher reason and a purer will,

To benefit and bless, through mightier power;
Whether the Persian-zealous to reject
Altar and image, and the inclusive walls
And roofs of temples built by human hands-
To loftiest heights ascending from their tops,
With myrtle-wreath'd tiara on his brow,
Presented sacrifice to moon and stars,
And to the winds and mother elements,
And the whole circle of the heavens, for him
A sensitive existence, and a God,
With lifted hands invoked, and songs of praise:
Or, less reluctantly to bonds of sense
Yielding his soul, the Babylonian framed
For influence undefined a personal shape;
And, from the plain, with toil immense, uprear'd
Tower eight times planted on the top of tower;
That Belus, nightly to his splendid couch
Descending, there might rest; upon that height
Pure and serene, diffused-to overlook
Winding Euphrates, and the city vast
Of his devoted worshippers, far-stretch'd,
With grove, and field, and garden, interspersed ;
Their town, and foodful region for support
Against the pressure of beleaguring war.
"Chaldean shepherds, ranging trackless fields,
Beneath the concave of unclouded skies
Spread like a sea, in boundless solitude,
Look'd on the polar star, as on a guide
And guardian of their course, that never closed
His steadfast eye. The planetary five
With a submissive reverence they beheld:
Watch'd, from the centre of their sleeping flocks
Those radiant Mercuries, that seem to move
Carrying through ether, in perpetual round,
Decrees and resolutions of the gods;
And, by their aspects, signifying works
Of dim futurity, to man reveal'd.
The imaginative faculty was lord
Of observations natural; and, thus

Led on, those shepherds made report of stars
In set rotation passing to and fro,
Between the orbs of our apparent sphere
And its invisible counterpart, adorn'd
With answering constellations, under earth,
Removed from all approach of living sight,
But present to the dead; who, so they deem'd,
Like those celestial messengers beheld
All accidents, and judges were of all.

"The lively Grecian, in a land of hills, Rivers, and fertile plains, and sounding shores, Under a cope of variegated sky,

Could find commodious place for every god,
Promptly received, as prodigally brought,
From the surrounding countries-at the choice
Of all adventurers. With unrivall❜d skill,
As nicest observation furnish'd hints
For studious fancy, did his hand bestow
On fluent operations a fix'd shape;

Metal or stone, idolatrously served,

And yet triumphant o'er this pompous show
Of art, this palpable array of sense,
On every side encounter'd; in despite
Of the gross fictions chanted in the streets
By wandering rhapsodists; and in contempt
Of doubt and bold denial hourly urged
Amid the wrangling schools-a SPIRIT hung,
Beautiful region! o'er thy towns and farms,
Statues and temples, and memorial tombs ;
And emanations were perceived; and acts
Of immortality, in nature's course,
Exemplified by mysteries, that were felt
As bonds, on grave philosopher imposed
And armed warrior; and in every grove
A gay or pensive tenderness prevail'd,
When piety more awful had relax'd.
Take, running river, take these locks of mine'-
Thus would the votary say this sever'd hair,
My vow fulfilling, do I here present,
Thankful for my beloved child's return.
Thy banks, Cephisus, he again hath trod,
Thy murmurs heard; and drunk the crystal lymph
With which thou dost refresh the thirsty lip,
And moisten all day long these flowery fields!'
And doubtless, sometimes, when the hair was shed
Upon the flowing stream, a thought arose
Of life continuous, being unimpair'd:
That hath been, is, and where it was and is
There shall endure,-existence unexposed
To the blind walk of mortal accident;
From dimunitions safe and weakening age;
While man grows old, and dwindles, and decays;
And countless generations of mankind
Depart; and leave no vestige where they trod.

"We live by admiration, hope, and love; And, e'en as these are well and wisely fix'd, In dignity of being we ascend.

But what is error?"-" Answer he who can!"
The skeptic somewhat haughtily exclaim'd:
"Love, hope, and admiration--are they not
Mad fancy's favourite vassals? Does not life
Use them, full oft, as pioneers to ruin,
Guides to destruction? Is it wel! to trust
Imagination's light when reason's fails,
Th' unguarded taper where the guarded faints?
Stoop from those heights, and soberly declare
What error is; and, of our errors, which
Doth most debase the mind; the genuine seats
Of power, where are they? Who shall regulate,
With truth, the scale of intellectual rank!"
"Methinks," persuasively the sage replied,
"That for this arduous office you possess
Some rare advantages. Your early days
A grateful recollection must supply
Of much exalted good by Heaven vouchsafed
To dignify the humblest state. Your voice
Hath, in my hearing, often testified

That poor men's children, they, and they alone,
By their condition taught, can understand
The wisdom of the prayer that daily asks
For daily bread. A consciousness is yours
How feelingly religion may be learn'd
In smoky cabins, from a mother's tongue-
Heard while the dwelling vibrates to the din
Of the contiguous torrent, gathering strength