Chapter 106
'Where lovely woman, chaste as heaven above.
s.h.i.+nes in the golden virtues of her love,'
and many other pa.s.sages in your poem, give proof of no common-place sensibility. I am therefore the more earnest that you should guard yourself against this temptation.
Excuse this freedom; and believe me, my dear Sir, very faithfully,
Your obliged servant, WM. WORDSWORTH.[96]
[95] _Memoirs_, ii. 205-9.
[96] _Ibid._ ii. 211-12.
60. _Of Hamilton's 'It haunts me yet' and Miss Hamilton's 'Boys'
School.'_
LETTER TO W.R. HAMILTON, ESQ., OBSERVATORY, NEAR DUBLIN.
Rydal Mount, near Kendal, Sept. 24. 1827.
MY DEAR SIR,
You will have no pain to suffer from my sincerity. With a safe conscience I can a.s.sure you that in my judgment your verses are animated with true poetic spirit, as they are evidently the product of strong feeling. The sixth and seventh stanzas affected me much, even to the dimming of my eye and faltering of my voice while I was reading them aloud. Having said this, I have said enough; now for the _per contra_.
You will not, I am sure, be hurt, when I tell you that the workmans.h.i.+p (what else could be expected from so young a writer?) is not what it ought to be; even in those two affecting stanzas it is not perfect:
'Some touch of human sympathy find way, And whisper that though Truth's and Science' ray With such serene effulgence o'er thee shone.'
Sympathy might whisper, but a '_touch_ of sympathy' could not. 'Truth's and Science' ray,' for the ray of truth and science, is not only extremely harsh, but a 'ray _shone_' is, if not absolutely a pleonasm, a great awkwardness: 'a ray fell' or 'shot' may be said, and a sun or a moon or a candle shone, but not a ray. I much regret that I did not receive these verses while you were here, that I might have given you, _viva voce_, a comment upon them, which would be tedious by letter, and after all very imperfect. If I have the pleasure of seeing you again, I will beg permission to dissect these verses, or any other you may be inclined to show me; but I am certain that without conference with me, or any benefit drawn from my practice in metrical composition, your own high powers of mind will lead you to the main conclusions.
You will be brought to acknowledge that the logical faculty has infinitely more to do with poetry than the young and the inexperienced, whether writer or critic, ever dreams of. Indeed, as the materials upon which that faculty is exorcised in poetry are so subtle, so plastic, so complex, the application of it requires an adroitness which can proceed from nothing but practice, a discernment which emotion is so far from bestowing that at first it is ever in the way of it. Here I must stop: only let me advert to two lines:
'But shall despondence therefore _blench_ my _brow_, Or pining sorrow sickly ardor o'er.'
These are two of the worst lines in mere expression. 'Blench' is perhaps miswritten for 'blanch;' if not, I don't understand the word. _Blench_ signifies to flinch. If 'blanch' be the word, the next ought to be '_hair_.' You cannot here use _brow_ for the _hair_ upon it, because a white brow or forehead is a beautiful characteristic of youth. 'Sickly ardor o'er' was at first reading to me unintelligible. I took 'sickly'
to be an adjective joined with 'ardor,' whereas you mean it as a portion of a verb, from Shakspeare, 'Sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought.' But the separation of the parts or decomposition of the word, as here done, is not to be endured.
Let me now come to your sister's verses, for which I thank you. They are surprisingly vigorous for a female pen, but occasionally too rugged, and especially for such a subject; they have also the same faults in expression as your own, but not, I think, in quite an equal degree. Much is to be hoped from feelings so strong, and from a mind thus disposed. I should have entered into particulars with these also, had I seen you after they came into my hands. Your sister is, no doubt, aware that in her poem she has trodden the same ground as Gray, in his 'Ode upon a distant Prospect of
I was much pleased with him and with your fellow-traveller Mr. Nimmo, as I should have been, no doubt, with the young Irishman, had not our conversation taken so serious a turn. The pa.s.sage in Tacitus which Milton's line so strongly resembles is not in the 'Agricola,' nor can I find it, but it exists somewhere.
W. WORDSWORTH.[97]
61. _Of Collins, Dyer, Thomson, &c._
LETTER TO REV. ALEXANDER DYCE.
Rydal Mount, Kendal, Jan. 12. 1829.
DEAR SIR,
I regret to hear of the indisposition from which you have been suffering.
That you are convinced[98] gives me great pleasure, as I hope that every other editor of Collins will follow your example. You are at perfect liberty to declare that you have rejected Bell's copy in consequence of my opinion of it; and I feel much satisfaction in being the instrument of rescuing the memory of Collins from this disgrace. I have always felt some concern that Mr. Home, who lived several years after Bell's publication, did not testify more regard for his deceased friend's memory by protesting against this imposition. Mr. Mackenzie is still living; and I shall shortly have his opinion upon the question; and if it be at all interesting, I shall take the liberty of sending it to you.
[97] _Memoirs_, ii. 212-14, with important additions from the original.
G.
[98] _i.e._ convinced by what Wordsworth had remarked to me, that those portions of Collins's 'Ode on the Superst.i.tions of the Highlanders,'
which first appeared in Bell's edition of that Ode, were forgeries.
_A.D._
Dyer is another of our minor poets--minor as to quant.i.ty--of whom one would wish to know more. Particulars about him might still be collected, I should think, in South Wales, his native country, and where in early life he practised as a painter. I have often heard Sir George Beaumont express a curiosity about his pictures, and a wish to see any specimen of his pencil that might survive. If you are a rambler, perhaps you may, at some time or other, be led into Carmarthens.h.i.+re, and might bear in mind what I have just said of this excellent author.
I had once a hope to have learned some unknown particulars of Thomson, about Jedburgh, but I was disappointed. Had I succeeded, I meant to publish a short life of him, prefixed to a volume containing 'The Seasons,' 'The Castle of Indolence,' his minor pieces in rhyme, and a few extracts from his plays, and his 'Liberty;' and I feel still inclined to do something of the kind. These three writers, Thomson, Collins, and Dyer, had more poetic imagination than any of their contemporaries, unless we reckon Chatterton as of that age. I do not name Pope, for he stands alone, as a man most highly gifted; but unluckily he took the plain when the heights were within his reach.
Excuse this long letter, and believe me,
Sincerely yours, WM. WORDSWORTH.[99]
[99] _Memoirs_, ii. 214-16.
62. _Verses and Counsels_.
LETTER TO PROFESSOR HAMILTON, OBSERVATORY, DUBLIN.
Rydal Mount, July 24. 1820.
MY DEAR SIR,
I have been very long in your debt. An inflammation in my eyes cut me off from writing and reading, so that I deem it still prudent to employ an Amanuensis; but I had a more decisive reason for putting off payment, nothing less than the hope that I might discharge my debt in person: it seems better, however, to consult you beforehand. I wish to make a Tour in Ireland, and _perhaps_ along with my daughter, but I am ignorant of so many points, as where to begin, whether it be safe at this _rioting_ period, what is best worth seeing, what mode of travelling will furnish the greatest advantages at the least expense. Dublin of course--the Wicklow mountains--Killarney Lakes--and I think the ruins not far from Limerick would be among my objects, and return by the North; but I can form no conjecture as to the time requisite for this, and whether it would be best to take the steamboat from Liverpool to Cork, beginning there, or to go from Whitehaven to Dublin. To start from Whitehaven by steam to Dublin would suit me as being nearer this place and a shorter voyage; besides my son is settled near Whitehaven, and I could conveniently embark from his abode.
I have read with great pleasure the 'Sketches in Ireland' which Mr.
Otway was kind enough to present to me; but many interesting things he speaks of in the West will be quite out of my reach. In short I am as unprepared with Tourists' information as any man can be, and sensible as I am of the very great value of your time, I cannot refrain from begging you to take pity upon my ignorance and to give me some information, keeping in mind the possibility of my having a female companion.
It is time to thank you for the verses you so obligingly sent me.
Your sister's have abundance of spirit and feeling; all that they want is what appears in itself of little moment, and yet is of incalculably great,--that is, workmans.h.i.+p,--the art by which the thoughts are made to melt into each other, and to fall into light and shadow, regulated by distinct preconception of the best general effect they are capable of producing. This may seem very vague to you, but by conversation I think I could make it appear otherwise. It is enough for the present to say that I was much gratified, and beg you would thank your sister for favouring me with the sight of compositions so distinctly marked with that quality which is the subject of them ['Genius']. Your own verses are to me very interesting, and affect me much as evidences of high and pure-mindedness, from which humble-mindedness is inseparable. I like to see and think of you among the stars, and between death and immortality, where three of these poems place you. The 'Dream of Chivalry' is also interesting in another way; but it would be insincere not to say that something of a style more terse, and a harmony more accurately balanced, must be acquired before the bodily form of your verses will be quite worthy of their living soul. You are probably aware of this, tho'
perhaps not in an equal degree with myself; nor is it desirable you should, for it might tempt you to labour, which would divert you from subjects of infinitely greater importance.
Many thanks for your interesting account of Mr. Edgeworth. I heartily concur with you in the wish that neither Plato nor any other profane author may lead him from the truths of the Gospel, without which our existence is an insupportable mystery to the thinking mind.
Looking for a reply at your early convenience,
I remain, my dear Sir, faithfully, your obliged WM. WORDSWORTH.[100]