Chapter X: The Return to Nature (4)

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EXERCISES

1. Below are given two extracts on autumn, one written by Keats and one by Shelley. Compare them carefully with regard to selection of details, style, and meter. How far does each reflect the nature of its author?

(1) Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness!
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease;
For Summer has o’er-brimmed their clammy cells.
KEATS, _Ode to Autumn_

(2) The warm sun is failing, the bleak wind is wailing,
The bare boughs are sighing, the pale flowers are dying,
And the Year
On the earth her death-bed, in a shroud of leaves dead,
Is lying.
Come, Months, come away,
From November to May,
In your saddest array;
Follow the bier
Of the dead cold Year,
And like dim shadows watch by her sepulchre.
SHELLEY, _Autumn: A Dirge_

2. From an examination of the following extracts, and from what has already been said regarding their respective authors, write a brief account of the style of the authors. How do the extracts compare as regards clearness, lucidity, and melody?

(1) During the first year that Mr Wordsworth and I were
neighbours, our conversations turned frequently on the two
cardinal points of poetry, the power of exciting the sympathy of
the reader by a faithful adherence to the truth of nature, and
the power of giving the interest of novelty by the modifying
colours of imagination. The sudden charm, which accidents of
light and shade, which moonlight or sunset diffused over a known
and familiar landscape, appeared to represent the practicability
of combining both. These are the poetry of nature. The thought
suggested itself (to which of us I do not recollect) that a
series of poems might be composed of two sorts. In the one, the
incidents and agents were to be, in part at least, supernatural;
and the excellence aimed at was to consist in the interesting of
the affections by the dramatic truth of such emotions, as would
naturally accompany such situations, supposing them real. And
real in this sense they have been to every human being who, from
whatever source of delusion, has at any time believed himself
under supernatural agency. For the second class, subjects were
to be chosen from ordinary life; the characters and incidents
were to be such, as will be found in every village and its
vicinity, where there is a meditative and feeling mind to seek
after them, or to notice them, when they present themselves.
COLERIDGE, _Biographia Literaria_

(2) I thought that it was a Sunday morning in May, that it was
Easter Sunday, and as yet very early in the morning. I was
standing, as it seemed to me, at the door of my own cottage.
Right before me lay the very scene which could really be
commanded from that situation, but exalted, as was usual,
and solemnised by the power of dreams. There were the same
mountains, and the same lovely valley at their feet; but the
mountains were raised to more than alpine height, and there
was interspace far larger between them of meadows and forest
lawns; the hedges were rich with white roses; and no living
creature was to be seen, excepting that in the green churchyard
there were cattle tranquilly reposing upon the verdant graves,
and particularly round about the grave of a child whom I had
tenderly loved, just as I had really beheld them, a little
before sunrise in the same summer, when that child died.
DE QUINCEY,
_The Confessions of an English Opium-Eater_

(3) When a child, what a mysterious pleasure it was to witness
their operation!--to see a chit no bigger than one’s-self enter,
one knew not by what process, into what seemed the _fauces
Averni_--to pursue him in imagination, as he went sounding
on through so many dark stifling caverns, horrid shades!--to
shudder with the idea that “now, surely, he must be lost for
ever!”--to revive at hearing his feeble shout of discovered
daylight--and then (O fulness of delight!) running out of doors,
to come just in time to see the sable phenomenon emerge in
safety, the brandished weapon of his art victorious like some
flag waved over a conquered citadel! I seem to remember having
been told that a bad sweep was once left in a stack with his
brush, to indicate which way the wind blew. It was an awful
spectacle certainly; not much unlike the old stage direction in
_Macbeth_, where the “Apparition of a child crowned, with a
tree in his hand, rises.”
LAMB, _The Praise of Chimney-Sweepers_

(4) If a young reader should ask, after all, What is the best
way of knowing bad poets from good, the best poets from the
next best, and so on? the answer is, the only and two-fold
way; first, the perusal of the best poets with the greatest
attention; and second, the cultivation of that love of truth
and beauty which made them what they are. Every true reader of
poetry partakes of a more than ordinary portion of the poetic
nature; and no one can be completely such, who does not love,
or take an interest in everything that interests the poet, from
the firmament to the daisy--from the highest heart of man, to
the most pitiable of the low. It is a good practice to read
with pen in hand, marking what is liked or doubted. It rivets
the attention, realises the greatest amount of enjoyment, and
facilitates reference. It enables the reader also, from time to
time, to see what progress he makes with his own mind, and how
it grows up to the stature of its exalter.
LEIGH HUNT, _Letters_

3. Each of the following extracts from narrative poetry is an example of the Romantic style. How is the Romantic spirit revealed in each, and how far is each different from the others?

(1) The moving Moon went up the sky,
And nowhere did abide:
Softly she was going up,
And a star or two beside--

Her beams bemock’d the sultry main,
Like April hoar-frost spread;
But where the ship’s huge shadow lay,
The charmed water burnt alway
A still and awful red.

Beyond the shadow of the ship,
I watch’d the water-snakes:
They mov’d in tracks of shining white,
And when they rear’d, the elfish light
Fell off in hoary flakes.

Within the shadow of the ship
I watch’d their rich attire:
Blue, glossy green, and velvet black,
They coil’d and swam; and every track
Was a flash of golden fire.
COLERIDGE, _The Rime of the Ancient Mariner_

(2) And still she slept an azure-lidded sleep,
In blanched linen, smooth, and lavendered,
While he forth from the closet brought a heap
Of candied apple, quince, and plum, and gourd,
With jellies soother than the creamy curd,
And lucent syrops, tinct with cinnamon,
Manna and dates, in argosy transferred
From Fez; and spiced dainties, every one,
From silken Samarcand to cedared Lebanon.
KEATS, _The Eve of St. Agnes_

(3) Like adder darting from his coil,
Like wolf that dashes through the toil,
Like mountain-cat who guards her young,
Full at Fitz-James’s throat he sprung;
Received, but recked not of a wound,
And locked his arms his foeman round.
Now, gallant Saxon, hold thine own!
No maiden’s hand is round thee thrown!
That desperate grasp thy frame might feel,
Through bars of brass and triple steel!
They tug, they strain; down, down they go,
The Gael above, Fitz-James below!
The Chieftain’s gripe his throat compressed,
His knee was planted on his breast;
His clotted locks he backward threw,
Across his brow his hand he drew,
From blood and mist to clear his sight,
Then gleamed aloft his dagger bright!
SCOTT, _The Lady of the Lake_

(4) While thus they spake, the angelic caravan,
Arriving like a rush of mighty wind,
Cleaving the fields of space, as doth the swan
Some silver stream (say Ganges, Nile, or Inde,
Or Thames, or Tweed), and ’midst them an old man
With an old soul, and both extremely blind,
Halted before the gate, and in his shroud
Seated their fellow traveller on a cloud.

But bringing up the rear of this bright host
A Spirit of a different aspect waved
His wings, like thunder-clouds above some coast
Whose barren beach with frequent wrecks is paved;
His brow was like the deep when tempest-toss’d;
Fierce and unfathomable thoughts engraved
Eternal wrath on his immortal face,
And _where_ he gazed a gloom pervaded space.
BYRON, _The Vision of Judgment_

4. The two following extracts represent two styles used by Scott. How far is each appropriate to the characters, the period, and the occasion of each novel? Which seems the more natural? How does this compare with Shakespeare’s use of prose and blank verse in his plays?

(1) “Od, here’s another,” quoth Mrs Mailsetter. “A
ship-letter--post-mark, Sunderland.” All rushed to seize
it.--“Na, na, leddies,” said Mrs Mailsetter, interfering; “I hae
had eneugh o’ that wark--ken ye that Mr Mailsetter got an unco
rebuke frae the secretary at Edinburgh, for a complaint that
was made about the letter of Aily Bisset’s that ye opened, Mrs
Shortcake?”

“Me opened!” answered the spouse of the chief baker of Fairport;
“ye ken yoursel’, madam, it just cam open o’ free will in my
hand--what could I help it?--folk suld seal wi’ better wax.”

“Weel I wot that’s true, too,” said Mrs Mailsetter, who kept a
shop of small wares, “and we have got some that I can honestly
recommend, if ye ken onybody wanting it. But the short and the
lang o’t is, that we’ll lose the place gin there’s ony mair
complaints o’ the kind.”

“Hout, lass--the provost will take care o’ that.”

“Na, na--I’ll neither trust to provost nor bailie,” said the
postmistress,--“but I wad ay be obliging and neighbourly,
and I’m no again your looking at the outside of a letter
neither.--See, the seal has an anchor on’t--he’s done’t wi’ ane
o’ his buttons, I’m thinking.”
_The Antiquary_

(2) “And these are all nobles of Araby?” said Richard, looking
around on wild forms with their persons covered with haiks,
their countenances swart with the sunbeams, their teeth as
white as ivory, their black eyes glancing with fierce and
preternatural lustre from under the shade of their turbans, and
their dress being in general simple, even to meanness.

“They claim such rank,” said Saladin; “but, though numerous,
they are within the conditions of the treaty, and bear no arms
but the sabre--even the iron of their lances is left behind.”

“I fear,” muttered De Vaux in English, “they have left them
where they can be soon found.--A most flourishing House of
Peers, I confess, and would find Westminster Hall something too
narrow for them.”

“Hush, De Vaux,” said Richard, “I command thee.--Noble
Saladin,” he said, “suspicion and thou cannot exist on the same
ground.--Seest thou,” pointing to the litters--“I too have
brought some champions with me, though armed, perhaps, in breach
of agreement, for bright eyes and fair features are weapons
which cannot be left behind.”
_The Talisman_

5. Compare Wordsworth’s view of nature with that of Byron, as revealed in the two following extracts. Which view seems to be the deeper and clearer? How far does each reflect the life and habits of the author?

(1) The sounding cataract
Haunted me like a passion; the tall rock,
The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood,
Their colours and their forms, were then to me
An appetite; a feeling and a love
That had no need of a remoter charm,
By thought supplied, or any interest
Unborrowed from the eye. That time is past,
And all its aching joys are now no more,
And all its dizzy raptures. Not for this
Faint I, nor mourn, nor murmur; other gifts
Have followed,--for such loss, I would believe,
Abundant recompense. For I have learned
To look on nature, not as in the hour
Of thoughtless youth, but hearing oftentimes
The still, sad music of humanity,
Nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power
To chasten and subdue.
WORDSWORTH, _Tintern Abbey_

(2) And I have loved thee, Ocean! and my joy
Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be
Borne like thy bubbles, onward: from a boy
I wantoned with thy breakers, they to me
Were a delight; and if the freshening sea
Made them a terror,’twas a pleasing fear,
For I was as it were a child of thee,
And trusted to thy billows far and near,
And laid my hand upon thy mane--as I do here.
BYRON, _Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage_

6. The first extract below gives Shelley’s idea of the cause of Keats’s death. Compare it with the more cynical utterance of Byron, quoted next. How far does each extract reveal the author’s attitude toward life in general? How far is each statement true?

(1) Our Adonais has drunk poison--oh!
What deaf and viperous murderer could crown
Life’s early cup with such a draught of woe?
The nameless worm would now itself disown:
It felt, yet could escape, the magic tone
Whose prelude held all envy, hate, and wrong,
But what was howling in one breast alone,
Silent with expectation of the song,
Whose master’s hand is cold, whose silver lyre unstrung.
_Adonais_

(2) John Keats, who was killed off with one critique,
Just as he really promised something great,
If not intelligible, without Greek
Contrived to talk about the gods of late,
Much as they might have been supposed to speak.
Poor fellow! His was an untoward fate;
’Tis strange the mind, that very fiery particle,
Should of itself be snuffed out by an article.
_Don Juan_

7. Compare Scott and Coleridge as narrative poets.

8. How far does the supernatural enter into the work of Scott, Shelley, and Coleridge? Give a brief account of each.

9. Mention some of the chief literary critics of the period. What are the main features of their criticism?

10. Give an account of the contemporary drama, naming some of the chief plays and giving a criticism of their principal features.

11. What use do Shelley, Keats, and Coleridge make of natural features? How do their attitudes compare with that of Wordsworth?

12. Write a note on the chief satirists of the period both in prose and poetry.

13. Estimate the importance of Scott’s contribution to the novel.

14. Who are the chief lyrical poets of the period? Point out their respective excellences and defects.

15. “In the earliest years of the nineteenth century, all the influences which were most harmful to prose style were most rife. The best elements of the eighteenth-century prose were gone, and a new host were rushing into literature.” (Craik.) What were the influences that were at work? How far did they affect prose style? How far did the influence of journalism affect prose style?

16. “In point of genius the period is a period of poetry; in point of mere form the remarkable change in it concerns not poetry but prose.” (Saintsbury.) Discuss this statement. How far do the poets excel the prose-writers in merit? Did the prose-writers revolt more strongly against the earlier fashions?

17. “_The Excursion_ and _The Prelude_, his poems of greatest bulk, are by no means Wordsworth’s best work. His best work is in his shorter pieces.” (Matthew Arnold.) Discuss this statement.

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A history of English literatureChapter X: The Return to Nature (4)

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