Part 21

[Footnote GC: The sledge used for bringing down peats or bracken from the uplands. The "sledge" has not yet entirely given way to the "wheel," many of the Westmoreland peasants still using it, when bringing down their winter stores of fuel and bedding, as they do in Norway.--ED.]

[Footnote GD: The vale of Little Langdale.--ED.]

[Footnote GE: "After we quit his cottage, passing over a low ridge, we descend into another vale, that of Little Langdale, towards the head of which stands embowered, or partly shaded by yews and other trees, something between a cottage and a mansion, or gentleman's house, such as they once were in this country. This I convert into the parsonage, and at the same time, and as by the waving of a magic wand, I turn the comparatively confined vale of Langdale, its tarn, and the rude chapel which once adorned the valley, into the stately and comparatively spacious vale of Grasmere and its ancient parish church."--I. F.

The Fenwick note is not quite clear as to the relation of Hackett to Blea Tarn Cottage. Dr. Cradock thinks that "Wordsworth meant that his description of the cottage was borrowed from Hackett (which he frequently visited), so far at least as the solitary clock, and the cottage stairs, and the dark and low apartments were concerned."--ED.]

[Footnote GF: See the note on the previous page.--ED.]

[Footnote GG: Grasmere.--ED.]

[Footnote GH: Compare Lamb's remarks in reference to Harrow Church in a letter to Wordsworth, August 14, 1814. See _Letters of Charles Lamb_, edited by Canon Ainger, vol. i. p. 272.--ED.]

[Footnote GI: The details of this description apply in most particulars to the Church at Grasmere, although some are probably borrowed from Wordsworth's recollections of Hawkshead and of Bowness. The "naked rafters intricately crossed," the "admonitory texts" inscribed on the walls,

Each, in its ornamental scroll, enclosed,

the "oaken benches," the "heraldic shield" in the "altar-window," the "faded hatchment," the "marble monuments" and "sepulchral stones" with "emblems graven and foot-worn epitaphs,"--all are there. Grasmere Church was "for duration built," as Wordsworth puts it; and, however ill adapted to the wants of modern ceremonial, it is to be hoped that all that is most characteristic of the old edifice will be preserved; and that--while no building can retain its original form for ever--its renovation will not destroy what remains of that "rude and antique majesty," which Wordsworth tells us had, even in 1843, been partially impaired.--ED.]

[Footnote GJ: Compare, in _Hamlet_, act v. scene i. l. 64--

Hamlet.--Has this fellow no feeling of his business? he sings at grave-making.

Horatio.--Custom hath made it in him a property of easiness.

Hamlet.--'Tis e'en so: the hand of little employment hath the daintier sense.--ED.]

[Footnote GK: An oak now grows in the field a little to the east of the churchyard wall, which cannot, however, be that to which Wordsworth refers. Possibly an oak grew at that time beside the wall above the Rothay. The wall is still "moss-grown."--ED.]

[Footnote GL: See the footnote on the previous page.--ED.]

[Footnote GM: Compare _Paradise Lost_, book i. l. 157--

To be weak is miserable, Doing or suffering. ED. ]

[Footnote GN: Compare Wordsworth's _Description of the Scenery of the Lakes_, section 2. "To begin with the COTTAGES. They are scattered over the vallies, and under the hill sides, and on the rocks; and, even to this day, in the more retired dales, without any intrusion of more assuming buildings;

Clustered like stars some few, but single most, And lurking dimly in their shy retreats, Or glancing on each other cheerful looks, Like separated stars with clouds between.

The dwelling-houses, and contiguous outhouses, are, in many instances, of the colour of the native rock, out of which they have been built.... These humble dwellings remind the contemplative spectator of a production of nature, and may (using a strong expression) rather be said to have grown than to have been erected;--to have risen, by an instinct of their own, out of the native rock--so little is there in them of formality, such is their wildness and beauty! Among the numerous recesses and projections in the walls and in the different stages of their roofs, are seen bold and harmonious effects of contrasted sunshine and shadow.... These dwellings, mostly built, as has been said, of rough unhewn stone, are roofed with slates ... rough and uneven in their surfaces, so that both the coverings and sides of the houses have furnished places of rest for the seeds of lichens, mosses, ferns, and flowers. Hence buildings, which, in their very form call to mind the processes of nature, do thus, clothed with this vegetable garb, appear to be received into the bosom of the living principle of things, as it acts and exists among the woods and fields."

Compare also Gray's description of the Vale of Grasmere in his Journal:--"Not a single red tile, nor flaring gentleman's house, or garden-wall, breaks in upon the repose of this little unsuspected paradise; but all is peace, rusticity, and happy poverty, in its neatest and most becoming attire."--ED.]

[Footnote GO: "To illustrate the relation which in my mind this Pastor bore to the Wanderer, and the resemblances between them, or rather the points of community in their nature, I likened one to an oak, and the other to a sycamore; and having here referred to this comparison, I need only add, I had no one individual in my mind, wishing rather to embody this idea than to break in upon the simplicity of it by traits of individual character, or of any peculiarity of opinion."--I. F.

The sycamore is the favourite tree at the Mountain Farms of Cumberland and Westmoreland, as it affords the best shelter from rain, and the most thorough protection from the heat of the sun, during sheep-shearing. A special feature of the valley as you go down Langdale from Blea Tarn, is the abundance of sycamore; some of the farm-houses are literally _embowered_ by it.--ED.]

[Footnote GP: The group of meditative talkers are supposed to be seated on the moss-grown wall to the east of the Churchyard, facing Silver How.--ED.]

[Footnote GQ: Possibly at Dale End, Grasmere.--ED.]

[Footnote GR: Probably the Wyke, Sarah Mackereth's Cottage.--ED.]

[Footnote GS: See Wordsworth's note, p. 388.--ED.]

[Footnote GT: Silver How is the only "dark mountain" visible to the west from the moss-grown seat in the Grasmere Churchyard; but here again the realism of the narrative gives way, and not Silver How but Lingmoor is described, with Hackett Cottage at its south-eastern foot. The Fenwick note is here explicit. "First for the one picture given by the Wanderer of the living. In this nothing is introduced but what was taken from nature and real life. The cottage was called Hackett, and stands, as described, on the southern extremity of the ridge which separates the two Langdales. The pair who inhabited it were called Jonathan and Betty Yewdale." Later on, in book vi. p. 250, Wordsworth describes the blue roofs of Hawkshead village as ornamenting

a distant reach _Of this far-winding vale_.

Unless, therefore, he is speaking in the vague, Hackett and not Grasmere is the place described. The Fenwick note to the _Epistle to Sir George Beaumont_, however, decides the question (see vol. iv. p. 256). "The house (Hackett) and its inmates are referred to in the fifth book of _The Excursion_, in the passage beginning--

You behold, High on the breast of yon dark mountain, dark." ED. ]

[Footnote GU: Compare the Sonnet (of 1815) referring to Allan Bank, beginning--

Even as a dragon's eye that feels the stress Of a bedimming sleep, or as a lamp Suddenly glaring through sepulchral damp, So burns yon Taper 'mid a black recess Of mountains, silent, dreary, motionless, etc. ED. ]

[Footnote GV: Compare the Sonnet (of 1815) beginning--

The fairest, brightest, hues of ether fade,

and more especially the Fenwick note, prefixed to that sonnet.--ED.]

[Footnote GW: This feminine complexion of the Cumbrian peasants who work in the higher mines, is probably in part due to the continual mists and moisture of the heights. It has been observed especially amongst the workers in the high slate quarries at Walna Scar.--ED.]

[Footnote GX: In a note to the edition of 1814, Wordsworth added to the above quotation _Southey's Retrospect_. See p. 388 of this volume.]

[Footnote GY: In 1814 Wordsworth added to this line a prefatory note to his _Essay upon Epitaphs_, and the _Essay_ itself, for which see _The Prose Works_.]

[Footnote GZ: On the 1st of August 1849, during the last year of the poet's life, he transcribed the five lines beginning--

Life, I repeat, is energy of love

on a presentation copy of his works, sent to Thomas Gough. It was one of the last things he ever wrote.--ED.]

Book Sixth

THE CHURCH-YARD AMONG THE MOUNTAINS

ARGUMENT

_Poet's Address to the State and Church of England--The Pastor not inferior to the ancient Worthies of the Church--He begins his Narratives with an instance of unrequited Love--Anguish of mind subdued, and how--The lonely Miner--An instance of perseverance--Which leads by contrast to an example of abused talents, irresolution, and weakness--Solitary, applying this covertly to his own case, asks for an instance of some Stranger, whose dispositions may have led him to end his days here--Pastor, in answer, gives an account of the harmonising influence of Solitude upon two men of opposite principles, who had encountered agitations in public life--The rule by which Peace may be obtained expressed, and where--Solitary hints at an overpowering Fatality--Answer of the Pastor--What subjects he will exclude from his Narratives--Conversation upon this--Instance of an unamiable character, a Female, and why given--Contrasted with this, a meek sufferer, from unguarded and betrayed love--Instance of heavier guilt, and its consequences to the Offender--With this instance of a Marriage Contract broken is contrasted one of a Widower, evidencing his faithful affection towards his deceased wife by his care of their female Children._[510]

Hail to the crown by Freedom shaped--to gird An English Sovereign's brow! and to the throne Whereon he sits! Whose deep foundations lie In veneration and the people's love; Whose steps are equity, whose seat is law. 5 --Hail to the State of England! And conjoin With this a salutation as devout, Made to the spiritual fabric of her Church; Founded in truth; by blood of Martyrdom Cemented; by the hands of Wisdom reared 10 In beauty of holiness, with ordered pomp, Decent and unreproved. The voice, that greets The majesty of both, shall pray for both; That, mutually protected and sustained,[HA] They may endure long as the sea[511] surrounds 15 This favoured Land, or sunshine warms her soil.

And O, ye swelling hills, and spacious plains! Besprent from shore to shore with steeple-towers, And spires whose 'silent finger points to heaven;'[HB] Nor wanting, at wide intervals, the bulk 20 Of ancient minster lifted above the cloud Of the dense air, which town or city breeds To intercept the sun's glad beams--may ne'er That true succession fail of English hearts, Who, with ancestral feeling, can perceive[512] 25 What in those holy structures ye possess Of ornamental interest, and the charm Of pious sentiment diffused afar, And human charity, and social love. --Thus never shall the indignities of time 30 Approach their reverend graces, unopposed; Nor shall the elements be free to hurt Their fair proportions; nor the blinder rage Of bigot zeal madly to overturn; And, if the desolating hand of war 35 Spare them, they shall continue to bestow, Upon the thronged abodes of busy men (Depraved, and ever prone to fill the mind[513] Exclusively with transitory things) An air and mien of dignified pursuit; 40 Of sweet civility, on rustic wilds.

The Poet, fostering for his native land Such hope, entreats that servants may abound Of those pure altars worthy; ministers Detached from pleasure, to the love of gain 45 Superior, insusceptible of pride, And by ambitious[514] longings undisturbed; Men, whose delight is where their duty leads Or fixes them; whose least distinguished day Shines with some portion of that heavenly lustre 50 Which makes the sabbath lovely in the sight Of blessed angels, pitying human cares. --And, as on earth it is the doom of truth To be perpetually attacked by foes Open or covert, be that priesthood still, 55 For her defence, replenished with a band Of strenuous champions, in scholastic arts Thoroughly disciplined; nor (if in course Of the revolving world's disturbances Cause should recur, which righteous Heaven avert! To meet such trial) from their spiritual sires 61 Degenerate; who, constrained to wield the sword Of disputation, shrunk not, though assailed With hostile din, and combating in sight Of angry umpires, partial and unjust; 65 And did, thereafter, bathe their hands in fire,[HC] So to declare the conscience satisfied: Nor for their bodies would accept release; But, blessing God and praising him, bequeathed 69 With their last breath, from out the smouldering flame, The faith which they by diligence had earned, Or,[515] through illuminating grace, received, For their dear countrymen, and all mankind. O high example, constancy divine!

Even such a Man (inheriting the zeal 75 And from the sanctity of elder times Not deviating,--a priest, the like of whom, If multiplied, and in their stations set, Would o'er the bosom of a joyful land Spread true religion and her genuine fruits) 80 Before me stood that day; on holy ground Fraught with the relics of mortality, Exalting tender themes, by just degrees To lofty raised; and to the highest, last; The head and mighty paramount of truths,-- 85 Immortal life, in never-fading worlds, For mortal creatures, conquered and secured.

That basis laid, those principles of faith Announced, as a preparatory act Of reverence done to the spirit of the place,[516] 90 The Pastor cast his eyes upon the ground; Not, as before, like one oppressed with awe, But with a mild and social cheerfulness; Then to the Solitary turned, and spake.

"At morn or eve, in your retired domain, 95 Perchance you not unfrequently have marked A Visitor--in quest of herbs and flowers;[517] Too delicate employ, as would appear, For one, who, though of drooping mien, had yet From nature's kindliness received a frame 100 Robust as ever rural labour bred."

The Solitary answered: "Such a Form Full well I recollect. We often crossed Each other's path; but, as the Intruder seemed Fondly to prize the silence which he kept, 105 And I as willingly did cherish mine, We met, and passed, like shadows. I have heard, From my good Host, that being crazed in brain By unrequited love, he scaled the rocks,[518] Dived into caves, and pierced the matted woods, 110 In hope to find some virtuous herb of power To cure his malady!" The Vicar smiled,-- "Alas! before to-morrow's sun goes down His habitation will be here: for him That open grave is destined."[HD] "Died he then Of pain and grief?" the Solitary asked, 116 "Do not believe it; never could that be!"[519]

"He loved," the Vicar answered, "deeply loved, Loved fondly, truly, fervently; and dared At length to tell his love, but sued in vain;[520] 120 Rejected, yea repelled; and, if with scorn Upon the haughty maiden's brow, 'tis but A high-prized plume which female Beauty wears In wantonness of conquest, or puts on To cheat the world, or from herself to hide 125 Humiliation, when no longer free, _That_ he could brook,[521] and glory in;--but when The tidings came that she whom he had wooed Was wedded to another, and his heart Was forced to rend away its only hope; 130 Then, Pity could have scarcely found on earth An object worthier of regard than he, In the transition of that bitter hour! Lost was she, lost; nor could the Sufferer say That in the act of preference he had been 135 Unjustly dealt with; but the Maid was gone! Had vanished[522] from his prospects and desires; Not by translation to the heavenly choir Who have put off their mortal spoils--ah no! She lives another's wishes to complete,-- 140 'Joy be their lot, and happiness,' he cried, 'His lot and hers, as misery must be mine!'[523]

"Such was that strong concussion; but the Man, Who trembled, trunk and limbs, like some huge oak By a fierce tempest shaken, soon resumed 145 The stedfast quiet natural to a mind Of composition gentle and sedate, And, in its movements, circumspect and slow. To books, and to the long-forsaken desk, O'er which enchained by science he had loved 150 To bend, he stoutly re-addressed himself, Resolved to quell his pain, and search for truth[524] With keener appetite (if that might be) And closer industry. Of what ensued Within the heart[525] no outward sign appeared 155 Till a betraying sickliness was seen To tinge his cheek; and through his frame it crept With slow mutation unconcealable; Such universal change as autumn makes In the fair body of a leafy grove 160 Discoloured, then divested. "'Tis affirmed By poets skilled in nature's secret ways That Love will not submit to be controlled By mastery:--and the good Man lacked not friends Who strove to instil this truth into his mind, 165 A mind in all heart-mysteries unversed. 'Go to the hills,' said one, 'remit a while 'This baneful diligence:--at early morn 'Court the fresh air, explore the heaths and woods; 'And, leaving it to others to foretell, 170 'By calculations sage, the ebb and flow 'Of tides, and when the moon will be eclipsed, 'Do you, for your own benefit, construct 'A calendar of flowers, plucked as they blow 'Where health abides, and cheerfulness, and peace.' 175 The attempt was made;--'tis needless to report How hopelessly; but innocence is strong, And an entire simplicity of mind A thing most sacred in the eye of Heaven; That opens, for such sufferers, relief 180 Within the soul, fountains of grace divine;[526] And doth commend their weakness and disease To Nature's care, assisted in her office By all the elements that round her wait To generate, to preserve, and to restore; 185 And by her beautiful array of forms Shedding sweet influence from above; or pure Delight exhaling from the ground they tread."

"Impute it not to impatience, if," exclaimed The Wanderer, "I infer that he was healed 190 By perseverance in the course prescribed."

"You do not err: the powers, that[527] had been lost By slow degrees, were gradually regained; The fluttering nerves composed; the beating heart In rest established; and the jarring thoughts 195 To harmony restored.--But yon dark mould Will cover him, in the fulness of his strength,[528] Hastily smitten by a fever's force; Yet not with stroke so sudden as refused Time to look back with tenderness on her 200 Whom he had loved in passion; and to send Some farewell words--with one, but one, request;[529] That, from his dying hand, she would accept Of his possessions that which most he prized; A book, upon whose leaves some chosen plants, 205 By his own hand disposed with nicest care,[530] In undecaying beauty were preserved;[HE] Mute register, to him, of time and place, And various fluctuations in the breast; To her, a monument of faithful love 210 Conquered, and in tranquillity retained!

"Close to his destined habitation, lies One who achieved a humbler victory, Though marvellous in its kind. A place there is[531] High in these mountains, that allured a band 215 Of keen adventurers to unite their pains In search of precious ore: they tried, were foiled--[532] And all desisted, all, save him alone. He,[533] taking counsel of his own clear thoughts, And trusting only to his own weak hands, 220 Urged unremittingly the stubborn work, Unseconded, uncountenanced; then, as time Passed on, while still his lonely efforts found No recompense, derided; and at length, By many pitied, as insane of mind; 225 By others dreaded as the luckless thrall Of subterranean Spirits feeding hope By various mockery of sight and sound; Hope after hope, encouraged and destroyed. --But when the lord of seasons had matured 230 The fruits of earth through space of twice ten years, The mountain's entrails offered to his view And trembling grasp the long-deferred reward.[534] Not with more transport did Columbus greet A world, his rich discovery![HF] But our Swain, 235 A very hero till his point was gained, Proved all unable to support the weight Of prosperous fortune. On the fields he looked With an unsettled liberty of thought, Wishes and endless schemes; by daylight walked[535] Giddy and restless; ever and anon 241 Quaffed in his gratitude immoderate cups; And truly might be said to die of joy! He vanished; but conspicuous to this day The path remains that linked his cottage-door 245 To the mine's mouth; a long and slanting track, Upon the rugged mountain's stony side, Worn by his daily visits to and from The darksome centre of a constant hope. This vestige, neither force of beating rain, 250 Nor the vicissitudes of frost and thaw Shall cause to fade, till ages pass away; And it is named, in memory of the event, The PATH OF PERSEVERANCE." "Thou from whom Man has his strength," exclaimed the Wanderer, "oh! Do thou direct it! To the virtuous grant 256 The penetrative eye which can perceive In this blind world the guiding vein of hope; That, like this Labourer, such may dig their way, 'Unshaken, unseduced, unterrified;'[HG] 260 Grant to the wise _his_ firmness of resolve!"