I have been thus particular, knowing how much you and your dear sister value this excellent person, whose tenderness of heart I do not honestly believe was ever exceeded by any of God’s creatures. Her loving-kindness has no bounds. God bless her for ever and ever! Again thanking you for your excellent book, and wishing to know how you and your dear sister are, with best love to you both from us all,
I remain, my dear Lamb,
Your faithful friend,
W. WORDSWORTH.
88. ‘Specimens of English Sonnets:’ Criticisms, &c.
LETTER TO THE REV. ALEXANDER DYCE.
[No date to this Letter, but written in 1833.]
MY DEAR SIR,
The dedication which you propose I shall esteem as an honour; nor do I conceive upon what ground, but an over-scrupulous modesty, I could object to it.
Be assured that Mr. Southey will not have the slightest unwillingness to your making any use you think proper of his ‘Memoir of Bampfylde:’ I shall not fail to mention the subject to him upon the first opportunity.
You propose to give specimens of the best sonnet-writers in our language. May I ask if by this be meant a selection of the best sonnets, best both as to kind and degree? A sonnet may be excellent in its kind, but that kind of very inferior interest to one of a higher order, though not perhaps in every minute particular quite so well executed, and from the pen of a writer of inferior genius. It should seem that the best rule to follow would be, first, to pitch upon the sonnets which are best both in kind and perfectness of execution, and, next, those which, although of a humbler quality, are admirable for the finish and happiness of the execution, taking care to exclude all those which have not one or other of these recommendations, however striking they might be, as characteristic of the age in which the author lived, or some peculiarity of his manner. The 10th sonnet of Donne, beginning ‘Death, be not proud,’ is so eminently characteristic of his manner, and at the same time so weighty in the thought, and vigorous in the expression, that I would entreat you to insert it, though to modern taste it may be repulsive, quaint, and laboured. There are two sonnets of Russell, which, in all probability, you may have noticed, ‘Could, then, the babes,’ and the one upon Philoctetes, the last six lines of which are first-rate. Southey’s ‘Sonnet to Winter’ pleases me much; but, above all, among modern writers, that of Sir Egerton Brydges, upon ‘Echo and Silence.’ Miss Williams’s ‘Sonnet upon Twilight’ is pleasing; that upon ‘Hope’ of great merit.
Do you mean to have a short preface upon the construction of the sonnet? Though I have written so many, I have scarcely made up my own mind upon the subject. It should seem that the sonnet, like every other legitimate composition, ought to have a beginning, a middle, and an end; in other words, to consist of three parts, like the three propositions of a syllogism, if such an illustration may be used. But the frame of metre adopted by the Italians does not accord with this view; and, as adhered to by them, it seems to be, if not arbitrary, best fitted to a division of the sense into two parts, of eight and six lines each. Milton, however, has not submitted to this; in the better half of his sonnets the sense does not close with the rhyme at the eighth line, but overflows into the second portion of the metre. Now it has struck me that this is not done merely to gratify the ear by variety and freedom of sound, but also to aid in giving that pervading sense of intense unity in which the excellence of the sonnet has always seemed to me mainly to consist. Instead of looking at this composition as a piece of architecture, making a whole out of three parts, I have been much in the habit of preferring the image of an orbicular body, — a sphere, or a dew-drop. All this will appear to you a little fanciful; and I am well aware that a sonnet will often be found excellent, where the beginning, the middle, and the end are distinctly marked, and also where it is distinctly separated into two parts, to which, as I before observed, the strict Italian model, as they write it, is favourable. Of this last construction of sonnet, Russell’s upon ‘Philoctetes’ is a fine specimen; the first eight lines give the hardship of the case, the six last the consolation, or the per-contra.
Ever faithfully
Your much obliged friend and servant,
W. WORDSWORTH.
P.S. In the case of the Cumberland poet, I overlooked a most pathetic circumstance. While he was lying under the tree, and his friends were saving what they could from the flames, he desired them to bring out the box that contained his papers, if possible. A person went back for it, but the bottom dropped out, and the papers fell into the flames and were consumed. Immediately upon hearing this, the poor old man expired.
89. The Poems of Lady Winchelsea, Skelton, &c.
LETTER TO THE REV. ALEXANDER DYCE.
Lowther Castle, Sept. 23 [qu. Aug. 1833.
No date of the Year.]
MY DEAR SIR,
I have put off replying to your obliging letter till I could procure a frank; as I had little more to say than to thank you for your attention to Lady Winchelsea, and for the extracts you sent me.
I expected to find at this place my friend, Lady Frederick Bentinck, through whom I intended to renew my request for materials, if any exist, among the Finch family, whether manuscript poems, or anything else that would be interesting; but Lady F., unluckily, is not likely to be in Westmoreland. I shall, however, write to her. Without some additional materials, I think I should scarcely feel strong enough to venture upon any species of publication connected with this very interesting woman, notwithstanding the kind things you say of the value of my critical remarks.
I am glad you have taken Skelton in hand, and much wish I could be of any use to you. In regard to his life, I am certain of having read somewhere (I thought it was in Burns’s ‘History of Cumberland and Westmoreland,’ but I am mistaken), that Skelton was born at Branthwaite Hall, in the county of Cumberland. Certain it is that a family of that name possessed the place for many generations; and I own it would give me some pleasure to make out that Skelton was a brother Cumbrian. Branthwaite Hall is about six miles from Cockermouth, my native place. Tickell (of the Spectator), one of the best of our minor poets, as Johnson has truly said, was born within two miles of the same town. These are mere accidents, it is true, but I am foolish enough to attach some interest to them.
If it would be more agreeable to you, I would mention your views in respect to Skelton to Mr. Southey: I should have done so before, but it slipped my memory when I saw him. Mr. Southey is undoubtedly much engaged, but I cannot think that he would take ill a letter from you on any literary subject. At all events, I shall, in a few days, mention your intention of editing Skelton, and ask if he has anything to suggest.
I meditate a little tour in Scotland this autumn, my principal object being to visit Sir Walter Scott; but as I take my daughter along with me, we probably shall go to Edinburgh, Glasgow, and take a peep at the western Highlands. This will not bring us near Aberdeen. If it suited you to return to town by the Lakes, I should be truly glad to see you at Rydal Mount, near Ambleside. You might, at all events, call on Mr. Southey in your way; I would prepare an introduction for you, by naming your intention to Mr. S. I have added this, because my Scotch tour would, I fear, make it little likely that I should be at home about the 10th September. Your return, however, may be deferred.
Believe me, my dear Sir,
Very respectfully, your obliged,
W. WORDSWORTH.
P.S. I hope your health continues good. I assure you there was no want of interest in your conversation on that or any other account.
90. ‘Popularity’ of Poetry.
LETTER TO E. MOXON, ESQ.
Lowther Castle, Westmoreland, Aug. 1833.
MY DEAR MR. MOXON,
There does not appear to be much genuine relish for poetical publications in Cumberland, if I may judge from the fact of not a copy of my poems having been sold there by one of the leading booksellers, though Cumberland is my native county. Byron and Scott are, I am persuaded, the only popular writers in that line, �
�� perhaps the word ought rather to be that they are fashionable writers.
My poor sister is something better in health. Pray remember me very affectionately to Charles Lamb, and to his dear sister, if she be in a state to receive such communications from her friends. I hope Mr. Rogers is well; give my kindest regards to him also.
Ever, my dear Mr. Moxon,
Faithfully yours,
W. WORDSWORTH.
91. Sonnets, and less-known female Poets: Hartley Coleridge, &c.
LETTER TO THE REV. ALEXANDER DYCE.
Rydal Mount, Dec. 4. 1833.
MY DEAR SIR,
Your elegant volume of Sonnets, which you did me the honour to dedicate to me, was received a few months after the date of the accompanying letter; and the copy for Mr. Southey was forwarded immediately, as you may have learned long ago, by a letter from himself. Supposing you might not be returned from Scotland, I have deferred offering my thanks for this mark of your attention: and about the time when I should otherwise probably have written, I was seized with an inflammation in my eyes, from the effects of which I am not yet so far recovered as to make it prudent for me to use them in writing or reading.
The selection of sonnets appears to me to be very judicious. If I were inclined to make an exception, it would be in the single case of the sonnet of Coleridge upon ‘Schiller,’ which is too much of a rant for my taste. The one by him upon ‘Linley’s Music’ is much superior in execution; indeed, as a strain of feeling, and for unity of effect, it is very happily done. I was glad to see Mr. Southey’s ‘Sonnet to Winter.’ A lyrical poem of my own, upon the disasters of the French army in Russia, has so striking a resemblance to it, in contemplating winter under two aspects, that, in justice to Mr. Southey, who preceded me, I ought to have acknowledged it in a note; and I shall do so upon some future occasion.
How do you come on with Skelton? And is there any prospect of a new edition of your Specimens of British Poetesses? If I could get at the original works of the elder poetesses, such as the Duchess of Newcastle, Mrs. Behn, Orinda, &c., I should be happy to assist you with my judgment in such a publication, which, I think, might be made still more interesting than this first edition, especially if more matter were crowded into a page. The two volumes of Poems by Eminent Ladies, Helen Maria Williams’s works, Mrs. Smith’s Sonnets, and Lady Winchelsea’s Poems, form the scanty materials which I possess for assisting such a publication.
It is a remarkable thing, that the two best ballads, perhaps, of modern times, viz. ‘Auld Robin Grey’ and the ‘Lament for the Defeat of the Scots at Flodden-field,’ are both from the pens of females.
I shall be glad to hear that your health is improved, and your spirits good, so that the world may continue to be benefited by your judicious and tasteful labours.
Pray let me hear from you at your leisure; and believe me, dear Sir,
Very faithfully yours,
W. WORDSWORTH.
P.S. It is a pity that Mr. Hartley Coleridge’s Sonnets had not been published before your Collection was made, as there are several well worthy of a place in it. Last midsummer I made a fortnight’s tour in the Isle of Man, Staffa, Iona, &c., which produced between thirty and forty sonnets, some of which, I think, would please you.
Could not you contrive to take the Lakes in your way, sometimes, to or from Scotland? I need not say how glad I should be to see you for a few days.
What a pity that Mr. Heber’s wonderful collection of books is about to be dispersed!
92. Proposed Dedication of Poems to Wordsworth.
LETTER TO MRS. HEMANS.
Rydal Mount, April 1834.
MY DEAR MRS. HEMANS,
You have submitted what you intended as a dedication of your poems to me. I need scarcely say that, as a private letter, such expressions from such a quarter could not have been received by me but with pleasure of no ordinary kind, unchecked by any consideration but the fear that my writings were overrated by you, and my character thought better of than it deserved. But I must say, that a public testimony, in so high a strain of admiration, is what I cannot but shrink from: be this modesty true or false, it is in me; you must bear with it, and make allowance for it. And, therefore, as you have submitted the whole to my judgment, I am emboldened to express a wish that you would, instead of this dedication, in which your warm and kind heart has overpowered you, simply inscribe them to me, with such expression of respect or gratitude as would come within the limits of the rule which, after what has been said above, will naturally suggest itself. Of course, if the sheet has been struck off, I must hope that my shoulders may become a little more Atlantean than I now feel them to be.
My sister is not quite so well. She, Mrs. W., and Dora, all unite with me in best wishes and kindest remembrances to yourself and yours; and
Believe me, dear Mrs. Hemans,
To remain faithfully yours,
WM. WORDSWORTH.
93. Verse-Attempts.
LETTER TO LIEUTENANT-GENERAL SIR WM. M. GOMM.
Rydal Mount, April 16. 1834.
MY DEAR SIR,
Your verses, for which I sincerely thank you, are an additional proof of the truth which forced from me, many years ago, the exclamation, ‘O, many are the poets that are sown by nature!’ The rest of that paragraph also has some bearing upon your position in the poetical world. The thoughts and images through both the poems, and the feelings also, are eminently such as become their several subjects; but it would be insincerity were I to omit adding, that there is here and there a want of that skill in workmanship, which I believe nothing but continued practice in the art can bestow. I have used the word art, from a conviction, which I am called upon almost daily to express, that poetry is infinitely more of an art than the world is disposed to believe. Nor is this any dishonour to it; both for the reason that the poetic faculty is not rarely bestowed, and for this cause, also, that men would not be disposed to ascribe so much to inspiration, if they did not feel how near and dear to them poetry is.
With sincere regards and best wishes to yourself and Lady Gomm,
Believe me to be very sincerely yours,
W. WORDSWORTH.
94. The Poems of Mrs. Hemans.
LETTER TO MRS. HEMANS.
Rydal Mount, Sept. 1834.
MY DEAR MRS. HEMANS,
I avail myself gladly of the opportunity of Mr. Graves’s return, to acknowledge the honour you have done me in prefixing my name to your volume of beautiful poems, and to thank you for the copy you have sent me with your own autograph. Where there is so much to admire, it is difficult to select; and therefore I shall content myself with naming only two or three pieces. And, first, let me particularise the piece that stands second in the volume, ‘Flowers and Music in a Sick Room.’ This was especially touching to me, on my poor sister’s account, who has long been an invalid, confined almost to her chamber. The feelings are sweetly touched throughout this poem, and the imagery very beautiful; above all, in the passage where you describe the colour of the petals of the wild rose. This morning, I have read the stanzas upon ‘Elysium’ with great pleasure. You have admirably expanded the thought of Chateaubriand. If we had not been disappointed in our expected pleasure of seeing you here, I should have been tempted to speak of many other passages and poems with which I have been delighted.
Your health, I hope, is by this time reëstablished. Your son, Charles, looks uncommonly well, and we have had the pleasure of seeing him and his friends several times; but as you are aware, we are much engaged with visitors at this season of the year, so as not always to be able to follow our inclinations as to whom we would wish to see. I cannot conclude without thanking you for your Sonnet upon a place so dear to me as Grasmere: it is worthy of the subject. With kindest remembrances, in which unite Mrs. W., my sister, and Dora, I remain, dear Mrs. Hemans,
Your much obliged friend,
WM. WORDSWORTH.
I have written very hastily to spare my eyes; a liberty which you will excuse.
LETTER TO THE VENERABLE ARCHDEACON WRANGHAM.
Rydal Mount, Feb. 2. 1835.
MY DEAR WRANGHAM,
Sincere thanks are due from me for the attention you paid to Mrs. W.’s letter, written during my absence. You know the favourable opinion I entertain of Mr. Graves; and I was under a promise to let him know, if any vacancy occurred in the neighbourhood, and to do all I could, without infringing upon prior or stronger claims, to promote the attainment of his wishes.
The mind of every thinking man who is attached to the Church of England must at this time be especially turned to reflections upon all points of ecclesiastical polity, government, and management, which may tend to strengthen the Establishment in the affections of the people, and enlarge the sphere of its efficiency. It cannot, then, I feel, be impertinent in me, though a layman, to express upon this occasion my satisfaction, qualified as it is by what has been said above, in finding from this instance that our diocesan is unwilling to station clergymen in cures with which they are locally connected. Some years ago, when the present Bishop of London, then of Chester, was residing in this neighbourhood, I took the liberty of strenuously recommending to him not to ordain young men to curacies where they had been brought up, or in the midst of their own relatives. I had seen too much of the mischief of this, especially as affecting the functions and characters of ministers born and bred up in the lower classes of society. It has been painful to me to observe the false position, as the French would call it, in which men so placed are. Their habits, their manners, and their talk, their acquaintanceships, their friendships, and, let me say, their domestic affections, naturally and properly draw them one way, while their professional obligations point out another; and, accordingly, if they are sensible of both, they live in a perpetual conflict, and are liable to be taxed with pride and ingratitude, as seeming to neglect their old friends, when they only associate with them with that reserve, and under those restraints, which their sacred profession enjoins. If, on the other hand, they fall into unrestrained familiarity with the associates of their earlier life and boyish days, how injurious to their ministry such intercourse would be, must flash upon every man’s mind whose thoughts have turned for a moment to the subject. Allow me to add a word upon the all-important matter of testimonials. The case of the Rector of — — and of — — presses it closely upon my mind. Had the individuals who signed those documents been fitly impressed with the awfullness of the act they were about to engage in, they could not have undertaken it.... Would it not be a good plan for bishops to exclude testimonials from relatives and near connections? It is painful to notice what a tendency there is in men’s minds to allow even a slight call of private regard to outweigh a very strong claim of duty to the public, and not less in sacred concerns than in civil.
Delphi Complete Works of William Wordsworth Page 422
