Remote from Europe, from her blasted hopes,
Her fields of carnage, and polluted air.
"Fresh blew the wind, when o'er the Atlantic main
The ship went gliding with her thoughtless crew:
And who among them but an exile, freed
From discontent, indifferent, pleased to sit
Among the busily-employed, not more
With obligation charged, with service taxed,
Than the loose pendant to the idle wind
Upon the tall mast streaming! But, ye powers
Of soul and sense-mysteriously allied,
Oh, never let the wretched, if a choice
Be left him, trust the freight of his distress
To a long voyage on the silent deep!
For, like a plague, will memory break out,
And, in the blank and solitude of things,
Upon his spirit, with a fever's strength,
Will conscience prey. Feebly must they have felt
Who, in old time, attired with snakes and whips
The vengeful furies. Beautiful regards
Were turned on me-the face of her I loved-
The wife and mother-pitifully fixing
Tender reproaches insupportable.
Where now that boasted liberty? No welcome
From unknown objects I received; and those,
Known and familiar, which the vaulted sky
Did, in the placid clearness of the night,
Disclose, had accusations to prefer
Against my peace. Within the cabin stood
That volume as a compass for the soul
Revered among the nations. I implored
Its guidance; but the infallible support
Of faith was wanting. Tell me, why refused
To one by storms annoyed and adverse winds,
Perplexed with currents, of his weakness sick,
Of vain endeavours tired, and by his own,
And by his nature's ignorance dismayed.
"6 Long wished for sight, the Western world appeared And, when the ship was moored, I leaped ashore Indignantly-resolved to be a man,
Who, having o'er the past no power, would live
No longer in subjection to the past
With abject mind-from a tyrannic lord
Inviting penance, fruitlessly endured:
So like a fugitive whose feet have cleared
Some boundary which his followers may not cross
In prosecution of their deadly chase,
Respiring I looked round. How bright the sun,
How promising the breeze! Can aught produce
In the old world compare, thought I, for power
And majesty, with this gigantic stream
Sprung from the desert? And behold, a city
Fresh, youthful, and aspiring! What are these
To me, or I to them? As much at least
As he desires that they should be, whom winds
And waves have wafted to this distant shore,
In the condition of a damaged seed,
Whose fibres cannot, if they would, take root.
Here may I roam at large; my business is,
Roaming at large, t' observe, and not to feel;
And therefore, not to act-convinced that all
Which bears the name of action, howsoe'er
Beginning, ends in servitude-still painful,
And mostly profitless. And, sooth to say,
On nearer view, a motley spectacle
Appeared, of high pretensions-unreproved
But by the obstreperous voice of higher still ;
Big passions strutting on a petty stage;
Which a detached spectator may regard
Not unamused. But ridicule demands
Quick change of objects; and, to laugh alone,
In woods and wilds, or any lonely place,
At a composing distance from the haunts
Of strife and folly, though it be a treat
As choice as musing leisure can bestow;
Yet, in the very centre of the crowd,
To keep the secret of a poignant scorn,
May suit an airy demon; but, of all
Unsocial courses, 'tis the one least fit
For the gross spirit of mankind-the one
That soonest fails to please, and quickliest turns
Into vexation. Let us, then, I said,
Leave this unknit Republic to the scourge
Of its own passions; and to regions haste,
Whose shades have never felt th' encroaching axe,
Or soil endured a transfer in the mart
Of dire rapacity. There, man abides,
Primeval Nature's child. A creature weak
In combination (wherefore else driven back
So far, and of his old inheritance
So easily deprived ?), but, for that cause,
More dignified, and stronger in himself,
Whether to act, judge, suffer, or enjoy.
True, the intelligence of social art
Hath overpowered his forefathers, and soon
Will sweep the remnant of his line away;
But contemplations, worthier, nobler far
Than her destructive energies, attend
His independence, when along the side
Of Mississippi, or that northern stream
Which spreads into successive seas, he walks;
Pleased to perceive his own unshackled life,
And his innate capacities of soul,
There imaged or, when having gained the top
Of some commanding eminence, which yet
Intruder ne'er beheld, he thence surveys
Regions of wood and wide savannah, vast
Expanse of unappropriated earth,
With mind that sheds a light on what he sees;
Free as the sun, and lonely as the sun
Pouring, above his head, its radiance down
Upon a living and rejoicing world!
"So, westward, tow'rd the unviolated woods,
I bent my way; and, roaming far and wide,
Failed not to greet the merry mocking-bird;
And while the melancholy mucca wiss
(The sportive bird's companion in the grove)
Repeated o'er and o'er his plaintive cry,
I sympathised at leisure with the sound;
But that pure archetype of human greatness,
I found him not. There, in his stead, appeared
A creature, squalid, vengeful, and impure;
Remorseless, and submissive to no law
But superstitious fear, and abject sloth.
Enough is told! Here am I-ye have heard
What evidence I seek, and vainly seek;
What from my fellow-beings I require,
And cannot find; what I myself have lost,
Nor can regain: how languidly I look
Upon this visible fabric of the world,
May be divined-perhaps it hath been said.
But spare your pity, if there be in me
Aught that deserves respect: for I exist-
Within myself-not comfortless. The tenor
Which my life holds, he readily may conceive
Whoe'er hath stood to watch a mountain brook
In some still passage of its course, and seen
Within the depths of its capacious breast
Inverted trees, and rocks, and azure sky;
And, on its glassy surface, specks of foam
And conglobated bubbles undissolved,
Numerous as stars; that, by their onward lapse,
Betray to sight the motion of the stream,
Else imperceptible; meanwhile, is heard
Perchance a roar or murmur; and the sound
Though soothing, and the little floating isles
Though beautiful, are both by Nature charged
With the same pensive office; and make known
Through what perplexing labyrinths, abrupt
Precipitations, and untoward straits,
The earth-born wanderer hath passed; and quickly,
That respite o'er, like traverses and toils
Must be again encountered. Such a stream
Is human life; and so the spirit fares
In the best quiet to its course allowed:
And such is mine-save only for a hope
That my particular current soon will reach
Th' unfathomable gulf where all is still!"
State of feeling produced by the foregoing narrative-A belief in a superintending Prori. dence the only adequate support under affliction-Wanderer's ejaculation to the Supreme Being-Account of his own devotional feelings in youth involved in it-Implores that he may retain in age the power to find repose among enduring and eternal thingsWhat these latter are-Acknowledges the difficulty of a lively faith-Hence immoderate sorrrow-But doubt or despondency not therefore to be inferred-And proceeds to administer consolation to the Solitary-Exhortations-How these are received-Wanderer resumes-And applies his discourse to that other cause of dejection in the Solitary's mind, the disappointment of his expectations from the French Revolution-States the rational grounds of hope-And insists on the necessity of patience and fortitude with respect to the course of the great revolutions of the world-Knowledge the source of tranquillity-Rural life and solitude particularly favourable to a knowledge of the inferior creatures-Study of their habits and ways recommended on the affections and the imagination-Exhortation to bodily exertion and an active communion with Nature -Morbid solitude a pitiable thing-If the elevated imagination cannot be exerted, try the humbler fancy-Superstition better than apathy-Apathy and destitution unknown in the infancy of society-The various modes of Religion prevented it-This illustrated in the Jewish, Persian, Babylonian, Chaldean, and Grecian modes of belief-Solitary interposes-Wanderer, in answer, points out the influence of religious and imaginative feeling on the mind in the humble ranks of society, in rural life especially-This illustrated from present and past times-Observation that these principles tend to recall exploded superstitions and popery-Wanderer rebuts this charge, and contrasts the dignities of the imagination with the presumptive littleness of certain modern philosophers, whom the Solitary appears to esteem-Recommends to him other lights and guides-Asserts the power of the soul to regenerate herself-Solitary agitated, and asks how-Reply-Personal appeal-Happy for us that the imagination and affections, in our own despite, mitigate the evils of that state of intellectual slavery which the calculating understanding is so apt to produce-Exhortation to activity of body renewed-How Nature is to be communed with-Wanderer concludes with a prospect of a legitimare union of the imagination, the affections, the understanding, and the reason-Effect of the Wanderer's 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 doubtless yielding some relief
While we sate listening with compassion due,
Such pity yet surviving, with firm voice,
That did not falter, though the heart was moved,
The Wanderer said :-
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 recall
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,
And if they 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 steadfastly 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 or 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
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