THE LIFE AND GENIUS OF WORDSWORTH. THE ambitious spirit of Philosophy attempts continually to reduce to its laws even co-ordinate powers. In vain it seeks to obtain universal dominion. The imagination by which it soars will not consent to be thus monopolized. Other operations of the human spirit demand its aid. Poetry prefers its claims to be independent of the usurped dominion. The canons of poetry, therefore, promulgated by philosophy, are made to be broken. Generalizations, founded upon past examples, are found to be defective as soon as formed. New modes are discovered for the expression of thought and affection. A new poet starts up to carry his art into regions beyond any previous experience. Thus lovely halcyons dive into the main, Their lustrous dyes participate in the changes both of the element whence they emerge and of the skies that diffuse upon them an altered light. A poet of original genius is a welcome gift to this rigid world. He should be forgiven many faults. Such a poet was William Wordsworth. Born at Cockermouth on the 7th April 1770, he appeared to the world more than a year before Sir Walter Scott, and nearly eighteen years before Lord Byron. Both of these quickly attained to a fame far beyond any that has yet blazoned their elder contemporary. But the influence of Wordsworth, as it certainly points to greater issues in an humbler spirit, may yet be wider and more powerful than theirs. The age which delighted to honour the glowing and romantic fictions of Scott, and which ran greedily after the morbid but impassioned creations of Byron, was not prepared to receive Wordsworth into the family which these distinguished men were elevating into the feudal aristocracy and the peerage. Wordsworth's father was an attorney at Cockermouth, employed professionally as the agent of Sir James Lowther, afterwards Earl of Lonsdale. His mother was the only daughter of William Cookson, mercer of Penrith. Their family consisted of four sons and a daughter. The second son was William. He exhibited in childhood a disposition which somewhat perplexed his mother. She declared him the only one of her children about whom she had any anxiety. His moody and violent temper gave but doubtful promise of a well regulated manhood. He once projected suicide in a fit of childish spleen, but resolution failed when he took in hand the foil which he had imagined suitable for his purpose. Impatient though he was of punishment, he was yet adventurous in transgression. Once in the drawing room, after daring his elder brother to the attempt, he wantonly dashed his whip through the rotten canvas of a family portrait. One would scarcely have expected that his steady manhood should have been fathered by such acts of impetuous childhood. Yet there is apparent throughout his life a persistency in carrying out his purposes, and an adventurous originality in conception that could not but have passed through a childhood marked by force of will. In his ninth year he was sent with his elder brother to Hawkshead school, in Lancashire. Here he was permitted to enjoy a liberty now unusual with lads so young. The boys were boarded in the cottages of village dames, where, if there was much care of them, there was little control. The liberty of the place was grateful. Not only could the youth indulge to the full in the books that boys delight in, but every excursion compatible with attendance at school hours might be made without restraint. There is to boys an intense enjoyment in a life of this sort. The animalism of youth develops itself vigorously under such a liberty. The love of nature is then alive, for the life of youth is thoroughly in unison with the life of nature. The village green is a happy provision for the use of cricketers and ball players. The fairs which occupy it for three or four days out of the twelvemonth are tolerated, indeed, for the sake of cheap-Johns and travelling exhibitions. And every field, every copse, every streamlet has its uses and its pleasures. Here are to be found wild roots that please the palate, not yet taught to scorn any real dainty. Yonder the varied population of the woods "inhabit lax." The vagrant urchin knows every habitat of the songsters, every peculiarity of their notes and plumage. And angling is his holiday delight. Every streamlet has its own reputation. The triumphs of distant expeditions are recounted over the spoils laid out to view after the lengthened trudge has been retraced. "Ah, happy years! once more, who would not be a boy?" Hawkshead, although in Lancashire, stands amidst scenery pro perly belonging to Cumberland and Westmorland. The poet's boyhood was spent amongst associations very different from those which attach to the modern Lancashire. From the heights around the village, Esthwaite Water and Windermere lie open to the eye. The becks which tumble down the vales are bright in the sunshine, or turbid with flood, but unpolluted with dye stuffs. Fields and woods, slopes and crags mingle with lakes and streams in picturesque confusion. Amidst these dear objects the young admirer would fain have wandered all the day and all his day. He and his companions roved far and wide as their hours permitted. Night was not safe from their intrusions. Whether it were skating on the lakes in the clear frosty moonlight of winter, or wandering on the hills setting snares for woodcocks, the boys were on the alert during every waking hour. If confined within doors by storms, they employed their time in occupations little approved of by educationists. Story telling and cards are not considered the best recreations for youth, but in this case they fostered a poet. They rendered Wordsworth a hearty sympathizer with the lowly companions who shared the game, or passed the conversation around the pile of turf smouldering on the rustic hearth. The frugal fare of the Hawkshead cottages prepared the poet for the hardships of his vocation. It is difficult to conceive how Wordsworth, without such an education, could have been suited for the life he was afterwards to lead. School duties did not press heavily on his time or application. Greek and Latin were prescribed studies, but the real book learning of the budding bard went after the novelists and poets indigenous to his native land, or admitted to the nationality of mankind. The Arabian Nights is the fairy land of all boys; but young Wordsworth pulled down from his father's shelves the more masculine productions of Fielding, Cervantes, and Le Sage. Every verse maker was his friend, but the poets were his constant companions, and very early he sought to imitate them. This part of Wordsworth's life remained to him a happy memory in after times. The love of nature and of solitary musings then acquired never left him. When maturer years brought him the perplexities which at one period or another oppress every man, he reverted to these for consolation. The death of his mother was the cause of his being sent to school. This occurred when he was in his eighth year. His father seems never to have recovered from his loss. In about six years afterwards he also died. The family were scattered. William, in his eighteenth year, went to Cambridge, where one of his maternal uncles was a fellow of St. John's College. There the country lad was enchanted with all he saw. The spirit of the place made a deep, but fortunately a transient, impression on the young student. Its recreations rather than its business seized hold of his mind. Adapting himself in dress and manners to his new sphere, he gave scope to his spirits in all the boisterous enjoyments of the place. Boating and riding, lounging and walking were no novelties to him. But the dangerous fascinations of wine parties and suppers were also tasted, and not without gusto. The restraints of study and the methodical pursuit of learning were unpalatable -unendurable. Yet it must not be supposed that he was borne along by a headlong rout of unthinking revellers. In every occupation he kept in view the object of "acquainting his heart with wisdom." There were occasions when the freshman involuntarily revealed this process of concomitant reflection. The disclosure was hardly to the taste of those who observed it. They whispered amongst themselves that something was amiss, and that such an oddity as this should be looked after by his friends. The effect was that in a second term Wordsworth returned to his solitary habits, and spent more of his time amongst his books. He dipped into the Latin poets, as was necessary, but, in pursuance of his self-education, studied the Italian masters of poetry, and devoured the fathers of the old English muse. The conventionalisms of college life were totally opposed to the wild freedom of Cumbrian mountains. The ideas also prevalent at the University of Cambridge were at variance with the simplicity of social life and manners in the country villages of the English Highlands. The spirit of the age itself was inharmonious. Parties were arranged for bitter contest. The universities were generally the strongholds of privilege and routine. They contained few representatives of the independent spirit of the sturdy yeomen and husbandmen of the northern dales. They naturally were suspicious of movements from beneath such as were heaving under the troubled surface of affairs in France. Young Wordsworth, on the other hand, was all in heart one of the humble class with whom he had spent such happy years at Hawkshead. His family were suffering a monstrous injustice at the hands of Lord Lonsdale. This nobleman continued during his life to refuse liquidation of the arrears which were due to the executors of his late agent. In these consisted nearly the whole of the Wordsworths' property, and the want of the money placed the poet and his brothers and sister in a position of dependence. It was no wonder that William Wordsworth should entertain predilections in favour of the poor who had been his friends. During one of his vacations, when he returned to the north, he renewed his companionship with his sister, whose gentle and elevated spirit had powerfully soothed him in his childhood, and was to be throughout his subsequent life a great assistance to his genius. In 1790, just previous to his examination for honours, he made a tour on foot with a friend through Switzerland and France. The couple had not even a knapsack between them, but carried their entire baggage tied up in their handkerchiefs. In their passage through France they found a joyous people celebrating their victory over the throne. The king had sworn fidelity to the new constitution, and the people were frantic with joy. The pedestrians fraternised everywhere with the dancing patriots, and the poet prepared his muse to sing endless peans unto liberty. But he was careful to attend to her education first, and passed on to Switzerland, in order to obtain the baptism of its mountain scenery. After a tour of marvellous extent, considering that its total cost was £20, he returned. Taking a degree, he quitted college, and spent some months in London. He attended the debates in Parliament, heard Burke on the dawning revolution in France, and returned thither to enjoy the delicious intoxication that was everywhere indulged. Passing through Paris, he went on to Orleans and Blois. The revolution was advancing with rapid steps. The reign of terror was approaching; but, in the beginning of 1791, all was still to him couleur de rose. "Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive, But to be young was very heaven." In a year all this was changed; and with— "The dead upon the dying heaped" He lay in the streets of Paris, Wordsworth began to tremble. on his couch in a garret in Paris with strange awe and fascination. His dreams were quickly vanishing, and, instead, he seemed— "To hear a voice that cried To the whole city, 'Sleep no more."" He would have remained in Paris, imagining that he could be of service in the fearful period he foresaw to be imminent. But he was compelled to return home. His friends were anxious that he should take orders in the Church of England; but his thoughts were agitated by the scenes in which he had nearly borne a part. Disappointment was gnawing him within, but not despair. He looked for order to issue from the chaos. He watched,-longed for the deliverance of the French patriots, with whom his soul was leagued. He entered too deeply into all their theories of equality and fraternity to |