– Exhortations. – How received. – Wanderer applies his discourse to that other cause of dejection in the Solitary's mind. – Disappointment from the French Revolution. – States grounds of hope, and insists on the necessity of patience and fortitude with respect to the course of great revolutions. – Knowledge the source of tranquillity. – Rural Solitude favourable to knowledge of the inferior Creatures; Study of their habits and ways recommended; exhortation to bodily exertion and communion with Nature. – Morbid Solitude pitiable. – Superstition better than apathy. – Apathy and destitution unknown in the infancy of society. – The various modes of Religion prevented it. – Illustrated in the Jewish, Persian, Babylonian, Chaldean, and Grecian modes of belief. – Solitary interposes. – Wanderer points out the influence of religious and imaginative feeling in the humble ranks of society, illustrated from present and past times. – These principles tend to recal exploded superstitions and Popery. – Wanderer rebuts this charge, and contrasts the dignities of the Imagination with the presumptuous littleness of certain modern Philosophers. – Recommends other lights and guides. – Asserts the power of the Soul to regenerate herself; Solitary asks how. – Reply. – Personal appeal. – Exhortation to activity of body renewed. – How to commune with Nature. – Wanderer concludes with a legitimate union of the imagination, affections, understanding, and reason. – Effect of his discourse. – Evening; Return to the Cottage.

 

Here closed the Tenant of that lonely vale

His mournful narrative – commenced in pain,

In pain commenced, and ended without peace:

Yet tempered, not unfrequently, with strains

Of native feeling, grateful to our minds;

And yielding surely some relief to his,

While we sate listening with compassion due.

A pause of silence followed; then, with voice

That did not falter though the heart was moved,

The Wanderer said: –

»One adequate support

For the calamities of mortal life

Exists – one only; an assured belief

That the procession of our fate, howe'er

Sad or disturbed, is ordered by a Being

Of infinite benevolence and power;

Whose everlasting purposes embrace

All accidents, converting them to good.

– The darts of anguish fix not where the seat

Of suffering hath been thoroughly fortified

By acquiescence in the Will supreme

For time and for eternity; by faith,

Faith absolute in God, including hope,

And the defence that lies in boundless love

Of his perfections; with habitual dread

Of aught unworthily conceived, endured

Impatiently, ill-done, or left undone,

To the dishonour of his holy name.

Soul of our Souls, and safeguard of the world!

Sustain, thou only canst, the sick of heart;

Restore their languid spirits, and recal

Their lost affections unto thee and thine!«

 

Then, as we issued from that covert nook,

He thus continued, lifting up his eyes

To heaven: – »How beautiful this dome of sky;

And the vast hills, in fluctuation fixed

At thy command, how awful! Shall the Soul,

Human and rational, report of thee

Even less than these! – Be mute who will, who can,

Yet I will praise thee with impassioned voice:

My lips, that may forget thee in the crowd,

Cannot forget thee here; where thou hast built,

For thy own glory, in the wilderness!

Me didst thou constitute a priest of thine,

In such a temple as we now behold

Reared for thy presence: therefore, am I bound

To worship, here, and everywhere – as one

Not doomed to ignorance, though forced to tread,

From childhood up, the ways of poverty;

From unreflecting ignorance preserved,

And from debasement rescued. – By thy grace

The particle divine remained unquenched;

And, 'mid the wild weeds of a rugged soil,

Thy bounty caused to flourish deathless flowers,

From paradise transplanted: wintry age

Impends; the frost will gather round my heart;

If the flowers wither, I am worse than dead!

– Come, labour, when the worn-out frame requires

Perpetual sabbath; come, disease and want;

And sad exclusion through decay of sense;

But leave me unabated trust in thee –

And let thy favour, to the end of life,

Inspire me with ability to seek

Repose and hope among eternal things –

Father of heaven and earth! and I am rich,

And will possess my portion in content!

 

And what are things eternal? – powers depart,«

The grey-haired Wanderer stedfastly replied,

Answering the question which himself had asked,

»Possessions vanish, and opinions change,

And passions hold a fluctuating seat:

But, by the storms of circumstance unshaken,

And subject neither to eclipse nor wane,

Duty exists; – immutably survive,

For our support, the measures and the forms,

Which an abstract intelligence supplies;

Whose kingdom is, where time and space are not.

Of other converse which mind, soul, and heart,

Do, with united urgency, require,

What more that may not perish? – Thou, dread source,

Prime, self-existing cause and end of all

That in the scale of being fill their place;

Above our human region, or below,

Set and sustained; – thou, who didst wrap the cloud

Of infancy around us, that thyself,

Therein, with our simplicity awhile

Might'st hold, on earth, communion undisturbed;

Who from the anarchy of dreaming sleep,

Or from its death-like void, with punctual care,

And touch as gentle as the morning light,

Restor'st us, daily, to the powers of sense

And reason's stedfast rule – thou, thou alone

Art everlasting, and the blessed Spirits,

Which thou includest, as the sea her waves:

For adoration thou endur'st; endure

For consciousness the motions of thy will;

For apprehension those transcendent truths

Of the pure intellect, that stand as laws

(Submission constituting strength and power)

Even to thy Being's infinite majesty!

This universe shall pass away – a work

Glorious! because the shadow of thy might,

A step, or link, for intercourse with thee.

Ah! if the time must come, in which my feet

No more shall stray where meditation leads,

By flowing stream, through wood, or craggy wild,

Loved haunts like these; the unimprisoned Mind

May yet have scope to range among her own,

Her thoughts, her images, her high desires.

If the dear faculty of sight should fail,

Still, it may be allowed me to remember

What visionary powers of eye and soul

In youth were mine; when, stationed on the top

Of some huge hill – expectant, I beheld

The sun rise up, from distant climes returned

Darkness to chase, and sleep; and bring the day

His bounteous gift! or saw him toward the deep

Sink, with a retinue of flaming clouds

Attended; then, my spirit was entranced

With joy exalted to beatitude;

The measure of my soul was filled with bliss,

And holiest love; as earth, sea, air, with light,

With pomp, with glory, with magnificence!

 

Those fervent raptures are for ever flown;

And, since their date, my soul hath undergone

Change manifold, for better or for worse:

Yet cease I not to struggle, and aspire

Heavenward; and chide the part of me that flags,

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 loosened 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 reached 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 hallowed and ordained,

If, in proportion, it be just and meet,

Yet, through this weakness of the general heart,

Is it enabled 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, least of all, is absolute despair.

– And, if there be whose tender frames have drooped

Even to the dust; apparently, through weight

Of anguish unrelieved, and lack of power

An agonizing sorrow to transmute;

Deem not that proof is here of hope withheld

When wanted most; a confidence impaired

So pitiably, that, having ceased to see

With bodily eyes, they are borne down by love

Of what is lost, and perish through regret.

Oh! no, the innocent Sufferer often sees

Too clearly; feels too vividly; and longs

To realize the vision, with intense

And over-constant yearning; – there – there lies

The excess, by which the balance is destroyed.

Too, too contracted are these walls of flesh,

This vital warmth too cold, these visual orbs,

Though inconceivably endowed, 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,

To 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! the endowment of immortal power

Is matched unequally with custom, time,

And domineering faculties of sense

In all; in most with superadded foes,

Idle temptations; open vanities,

Ephemeral offspring of the unblushing world;

And, in the private regions of the mind,

Ill-governed 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, renewed

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 obeyed,

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 stedfast 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 disencumbered of her mortal chains,

Doubt shall be quelled 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

Poured forth his aspirations, and announced

His judgments, near that lonely house we paced

A plot of green-sward, seemingly preserved

By nature's care from wreck of scattered 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 prevailed around us: and the voice

That spake was capable to lift the soul

Toward regions yet more tranquil. But, methought,

That he, whose fixed despondency had given

Impulse and motive to that strong discourse,

Was less upraised in spirit than abashed;

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 the unexpected transports of our age

Carried so high, that every thought, which looked

Beyond the temporal destiny of the Kind,

To many seemed superfluous – as, no cause

Could e'er for such exalted confidence

Exist; so, none is now for fixed despair:

The two extremes are equally disowned

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:

›Vain-glorious Generation! what new powers

On you have been conferred? 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 fight celestial, will produce

Misery and shame.