|
Gentleman's Magazine 1850 part 2 p.460
poet; four to his university career and his first
continental travels; two to a brief residence in London
after quitting Cambridge, and to a retrospect of his
intellectual being and progress up to that time. The next
three books record his residence in France, partly at Paris,
but principally in the Loire, during the eventful period of
the king's flight and capture, and the deadly struggle of
the Girondins with Robespierre. The three remaining books
treat of the detrimental effects of artificial life upon
imagination and taste, and of the healing process of nature
in regenerating them, by bracing the intellectual nerves,
and restoring the inner eye and power of intuition for the
mysteries and microcosm of external and human nature. In the
fourteenth book - The Conclusion - the reconcilement and
restoration have been effected, and the basis of the
poetical life is at length built upon broad and perdurable
foundations.
Such is the general outline of the Prelude. Its component
parts - its tone and impasto, to borrow a painter's phrase,
are at least equal to the best of Wordsworth's earlier
published works, and, in our opinion at least, superior to
all of them except his best lyrical ballads, his best
sonnets, and his Ode to Immortality. Reynolds's earlier
pictures possess a vigour and truth of colouring which are
not always found in his later efforts. He went astray after
a theory. Wordsworth, in like manner, by a perverse crochet
about diction, shackled the strength and freedom of his more
mature works. Because English poetry, since the age of
Charles the Second, had been over-run by gaudy exotics, none
but indigenous words - "the language of rustic life" -
should be admitted, if he adhered to his theory, into his
parterre. Fortunately his practice and his maxims were
generally at variance, or instead of Peter Bell, the
Waggoner, and the sonnets, the world might have been
cumbered with a repetition of Ambrose Phillips's pastorals.
His imagination and his taste were too potent and pure for
the laws he would have imposed upon them. They broke the new
cords; they burst into green wyths; they triumphed by
disobedience; and while professing to speak in the language
of common life, they attained to "the large utterance of the
early gods."
In the Prelude, however, as well as in Wordsorth's poetry
generally, there are peculiar and characteristic defects.
There is an occasional laxity of phrase, there is a want of
precision in form, and there is an absence of deep and vital
sympathy with men, their works, and ways. Wordsworth in many
of his sonnets, as well as in the poem now before us,
represents himself as roused and enkindled in no ordinary
degree by the dawn and earlier movements of the French
revolution; and in the Excursion, under the character of the
Solitary, he transcribes his own sensations at that
momentous epoch. Yet in each of these cases he utters the
sentiments of the philosopher rather than the citizen; of
the Lucretian spectator more than of one himself caught and
impelled by the heaving and boiling billows. His lyric
emotion is brief; his speculative contemplation is infinite;
he evinces awakened curiosity rather than spiritual
fellowship. In Shelley's poetry, especially his "Prometheus"
and "Revolt of Islam," we seem, as it were, to be confronted
by that yawning and roaring furnace into which the opinions
and institutions of the past were being hurled. In
Wordsworth's most excited mood we have rather the reflexion
of the flame than the authentic or derivative fire itself.
Its heat and glare pass to us through some less pervious and
colder lens. In Shelley again - we are contrasting not his
poetry but his idiosyncrasy with that of Wordsworth - we
encounter in its full vigour the erotic element of poetry,
the absence of which in Wordsworth is so remarkable, that of
all poets of equal rank and power in other respects, he, and
he alone, may be said to have dispensed with it all
together. The sensuous element was omitted in his
composition. His sympathies are absorbed by the magnifience
and the mystery of external nature, or by the vigour and
freshness of the human soul when under immediate contact
with nature's elemental forms and influences. Neither was
there ever any poet of his degree less dramatic than
Wordsworth. All the life in his ballads, in his narative
poems, in his Excursion, is the reflex of his own being. The
actors in his scenes are severe, aloof, stately,
|