Giants in their impiety alone,
But in their weapons and their warfare base
As vermin working out of reach, they leagued
Their strength perfidiously to undermine
Justice, and make an end of liberty. 660
But from these bitter truths I must return
To my own history. It hath been told
That I was led to take an eager part
In arguments of civil polity
Abruptly, and indeed before my time: 665
I had approached, like other youth, the shield
Of human nature from the golden side,
And would have fought even to the death to attest
The quality of the metal which I saw.
What there is best in individual man, 670
Of wise in passion and sublime in power,
What there is strong and pure in household love,
Benevolent in small societies,
And great in large ones also, when called forth
By great occasions — these were things of which 675
I something knew; yet even these themselves,
Felt deeply, were not thoroughly understood
By reason. Nay, far from it; they were yet,
As cause was given me afterwards to learn,
Not proof against the injuries of the day — 680
Lodged only at the sanctuary’s door,
Not safe within its bosom. Thus prepared,
And with such general insight into evil,
And of the bounds which sever it from good,
As books and common intercourse with life 685
Must needs have given (to the noviciate mind,
When the world travels in a beaten road,
Guide faithful as is needed), I began
To think with fervour upon management
Of nations — what it is and ought to be, 690
And how their worth depended on their laws,
And on the constitution of the state.
O pleasant exercise of hope and joy,
For great were the auxiliars which then stood
Upon our side, we who were strong in love. 695
Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive,
But to be young was very heaven! O times,
In which the meagre, stale, forbidding ways
Of custom, law, and statute took at once
The attraction of a country in romance — 700
When Reason seemed the most to assert her rights
When most intent on making of herself
A prime enchanter to assist the work
Which then was going forwards in her name.
Not favored spots alone, but the whole earth, 705
The beauty wore of promise, that which sets
(To take an image which was felt, no doubt,
Among the bowers of Paradise itself)
The budding rose above the rose full-blown.
What temper at the prospect did not wake 710
To happiness unthought of? The inert
Were rouzed, and lively natures rapt away.
They who had fed their childhood upon dreams —
The playfellows of fancy, who had made
All powers of swiftness, subtlety, and strength 715
Their ministers, used to stir in lordly wise
Among the grandest objects of the sense,
And deal with whatsoever they found there
As if they had within some lurking right
To wield it — they too, who, of gentle mood, 720
Had watched all gentle motions, and to these
Had fitted their own thoughts (schemers more mild,
And in the region of their peaceful selves),
Did now find helpers to their hearts’ desire
And stuff at hand plastic as they could wish, 725
Were called upon to exercise their skill
Not in Utopia — subterraneous fields,
Or some secreted island, heaven knows where —
But in the very world which is the world
Of all of us, the place in which, in the end, 730
We find our happiness, or not at all.
Why should I not confess that earth was then
To me what an inheritance new-fallen
Seems, when the first time visited, to one 735
Who thither comes to find in it his home?
He walks about and looks upon the place
With cordial transport — moulds it and remoulds —
And is half pleased with things that are amiss,
‘Twill be such joy to see them disappear. 740
An active partisan, I thus convoked
From every object pleasant circumstance
To suit my ends. I moved among mankind
With genial feelings still predominant,
When erring, erring on the better side, 745
And in the kinder spirit — placable,
Indulgent ofttimes to the worst desires,
As, on one side, not uninformed that men
See as it hath been taught them, and that time
Gives rights to error; on the other hand 750
That throwing off oppression must be work
As well of licence as of liberty;
And above all (for this was more than all),
Not caring if the wind did now and then
Blow keen upon an eminence that gave 755
Prospect so large into futurity —
In brief, a child of Nature, as at first,
Diffusing only those affections wider
That from the cradle had grown up with me,
And losing, in no other way than light 760
Is lost in light, the weak in the more strong.
In the main outline, such it might be said,
Was my condition, till with open war
Britain opposed the liberties of France.
This threw me first out of the pale of love, 765
Soured and corrupted upwards to the source,
My sentiments; was not, as hitherto,
A swallowing up of lesser things in great,
But change of them into their opposites,
And thus a way was opened for mistakes 770
And false conclusions of the intellect,
As gross in their degree, and in their kind
Far, far more dangerous. What had been a pride
Was now a shame, my likings and my loves
Ran in new channels, leaving old ones dry; 775
And thus a blow, which in maturer age
Would but have touched the judgement, struck more deep
Into sensations near the heart. Meantime,
As from the first, wild theories were afloat,
Unto the subtleties of which at least, 780
I had but lent a careless ear — assured
Of this, that time would soon set all things right,
Prove that the multitude had been oppressed,
And would be so no more. But when events
Brought less encouragement, and unto these 785
The immediate proof of principles no more
Could be entrusted — while the events themselves,
Worn out in greatness, and in novelty,
Less occupied the mind, and sentiments
Could through my understanding’s natural growth 790
No longer justify themselves through faith
Of inward consciousness, and hope that laid
Its hand upon its object — evidence
Safer, of universal application, such
As could not be impeached, was sought elsewhere. 795
And now, become oppressors in their turn,
Frenchmen had changed a war of self-defence
For one of conquest, losing sight of all
Which they had struggled for, and mounted up,
Openly in the view of earth and heaven, 800
The scale of Liberty. I read her doom,
But not dismayed, nor taking to the shame
Of a false prophet. But, rouzed up, I stuck
More Firmly to old tenets, and, to prove 805
Their temper, strained them more; and thus, in heat
Of contest, did opinions every day
Grow into consequence, till round my mind
They clung as if they were the life of it.
This was the time when, all things tending fast 810
To depravation, the philosophy
That promised to abstract the hopes of man
Out of his feelings, to be fixed thenceforth
For ever in a purer element,
Found ready welcome. Tempting region that 815
For zeal to enter and refresh herself,
Where passions had the privilege to work,
And never hear the sound of their own names —
But, speaking more in charity, the dream
Was flattering to the young ingenuous mind 820
Pleased with extremes, and not the least with that
Which makes the human reason’s naked self
The object of its fervour. What delight! —
How glorious! — in self-knowledge and self-rule
To look through all the frailties of the world, 825
And, with a resolute mastery shaking off
The accidents of nature, time, and place,
That make up the weak being of the past,
Build social freedom on its only basis:
The freedom of the individual mind, 830
Which, to the blind restraint of general laws
Superior, magisterially adopts
One guide — the light of circumstances, flashed
Upon an independent intellect.
For howsoe’er unsettled, never once 835
Had I thought ill of human-kind, or been
Indifferent to its welfare, but, enflamed
With thirst of a secure intelligence,
And sick of other passion, I pursued
A higher nature — wished that man should start 840
Out of the worm-like state in which he is,
And spread abroad the wings of Liberty,
Lord of himself, in undisturbed delight.
A noble aspiration! — yet I feel
The aspiration — but with other thoughts 845
And happier: for I was perplexed and sought
To accomplish the transition by such means
As did not lie in nature, sacrificed
The exactness of a comprehensive mind
To scrupulous and microscopic views 850
That furnished out materials for a work
Of false imagination, placed beyond
The limits of experience and of truth.
Enough, no doubt, the advocates themselves
Of ancient institutions had performed 855
To bring disgrace upon their very names;
Disgrace of which custom, and written law,
And sundry moral sentiments, as props
And emanations of these institutes,
Too justly bore a part. A veil had been 860
Uplifted. Why deceive ourselves?—’twas so,
‘Twas even so — and sorrow for the man
Who either had no eyes wherewith to see,
Or seeing hath forgotten. Let this pass,
Suffice it that a shock had then been given 865
To old opinions, and the minds of all men
Had felt it — that my mind was both let loose,
Let loose and goaded. After what hath been
Already said of patriotic love,
And hinted at in other sentiments, 870
We need not linger long upon this theme,
This only may be said, that from the first
Having two natures in me (joy the one,
The other melancholy), and withal
A happy man, and therefore bold to look 875
On painful things — slow, somewhat, too, and stern
In temperament — I took the knife in hand,
And, stopping not at parts less sensitive,
Endeavoured with my best of skill to probe
The living body of society 880
Even to the heart. I pushed without remorse
My speculations forward, yea, set foot
On Nature’s holiest places.
Time may come
When some dramatic story may afford 885
Shapes livelier to convey to thee, my friend,
What then I learned — or think I learned — of truth,
And the errors into which I was betrayed
By present objects, and by reasonings false
From the beginning, inasmuch as drawn 890
Out of a heart which had been turned aside
From Nature by external accidents,
And which was thus confounded more and more,
Misguiding and misguided. Thus I fared,
Dragging all passions, notions, shapes of faith, 895
Like culprits of the bar, suspiciously
Calling the mind to establish in plain day
Her titles and her honours, now believing,
Now disbelieving, endlessly perplexed
With impulse, motive, right and wrong, the ground 900
Of moral obligation — what the rule,
And what the sanction — till, demanding proof,
And seeking it in every thing, I lost
All feeling of conviction, and, in fine,
Sick, wearied out with contrarieties, 905
Yielded up moral questions in despair,
And for my future studies, as the sole
Employment of the inquiring faculty,
Turned towards mathematics, and their clear
And solid evidence. 910
Ah, then it was
That thou, most precious friend, about this time
First known to me, didst lend a living help
To regulate my soul. And then it was
That the belov`ed woman in whose sight 915
Those days were passed — now speaking in a voice
Of sudden admonition like a brook
That does but cross a lonely road; and now
Seen, heard and felt, and caught at every turn,
Companion never lost through many a league — 920
Maintained for me a saving intercourse
With my true self (for, though impaired, and changed
Much, as it seemed, I was no further changed
Than as a clouded, not a waning moon);
She, in the midst of all, preserved me still 925
A poet, made me seek beneath that name
My office upon earth, and nowhere else.
And lastly, Nature’s self, by human love
Assisted, through the weary labyrinth
Conducted me again to open day, 930
Revived the feelings of my earlier life,
Gave me that strength and knowledge full of peace,
Enlarged, and never more to be disturbed,
Which through the steps of our degeneracy,
All degradation of this age, hath still 935
Upheld me, and upholds me at this day
In the catastrophe (for so they dream,
And nothing less), when, finally to close
And rivet up the gains of France, a Pope
Is summoned in to crown an Emperor — 940
This last opprobrium, when we see the dog
Returning to his vomit, when the sun
That rose in splendour, was alive, and moved
In exultation among living clouds,
Hath put his function and his glory off, 945
And, turned into a gewgaw, a machine,
sets like an opera phantom.
Thus, O friend,
Through times of honour, and through times of shame,
Have I descended, tracing faithfully
950
The workings of a youthful mind, beneath
The breath of great events — its hopes no less
Than universal, and its boundless love —
A story destined for thy ear, who now,
Among the basest and the lowest fallen 955
Of all the race of men, dost make abode
Where Etna looketh down on Syracuse,
The city of Timoleon. Living God,
How are the mighty prostrated! — they first,
They first of all that breathe, should have awaked 960
When the great voice was heard out of the tombs
Of ancient heroes. If for France I have grieved,
Who in the judgement of no few hath been
A trifler only, in her proudest day —
Have been distressed to think of what she once 965
Promised, now is — a far more sober cause
Thine eyes must see of sorrow in a land
Strewed with the wreck of loftiest years, a land
Glorious indeed, substantially renowned
Of simple virtue once, and manly praise, 970
Now without one memorial hope, not even
A hope to be deferred — for that would serve
To chear the heart in such entire decay.
But indignation works where hope is not,
And thou, O friend, wilt be refreshed. There is 975
One great society alone on earth:
The noble living and the noble dead.
Thy consolation shall be there, and time
And Nature shall before thee spread in store
Imperishable thoughts, the place itself 980
Be conscious of they presence, and the dull
Sirocco air of its degeneracy
Turn as thou mov’st into a healthful breeze
To cherish and invigorate thy frame.
Thine be those motions strong and sanative, 985
A ladder for thy spirit to reascend
To health and joy and pure contentedness:
To me the grief confined that thou art gone
From this last spot of earth where Freedom now
Stands single in her only sanctuary — 990
A lonely wanderer art gone, by pain
Compelled and sickness, at this latter day,
This heavy time of change for all mankind.
I feel for thee, must utter what I feel;
The sympathies, erewhile in part discharged, 995
Gather afresh, and will have vent again.
My own delights do scarcely seem to me
My own delights: the lordly Alps themselves,
Those rosy peaks from which the morning looks
Abroad on many nations, are not now 1000
Since thy migration and departure, friend,
The gladsome image in my memory
Which they were used to be. To kindred scenes,
On errand — at a time how different —
Thou tak’st thy way, carrying a heart more ripe 1005
Delphi Complete Works of William Wordsworth Page 107