^24. 



and again more dimly, as the clouds break or gather upon its face, 

 and as the eye of the beholder is fresher or duller in its percep- 

 tions. 



I need scarcely guard myself against mistake, by adding that 

 it is easy to carry this notion of kindredness too far, and thus to 

 degrade it altogether. If we do not recognise the transcendant 

 unlikeness of nature to man, along with the likeness which exists, 

 the latter idea is mord than vulgarised. It becomes distorted and 

 untrue. Only through the recognition of the former notion does 

 the latter gain its reality and grandeur. We do not need, however, 

 to be reminded of the difference, so much as of the resemblance. 

 The former idea always takes care of itsolf It is constantly 

 suggested, and sometimes painfully obtrusive: the latter is occasion- 

 ally grasped, is often dimly possessed, and is always fugitive. Too 

 soon the curtain falls, the glory fades ; and after every disclosure 

 of Nature's heart, in the most lovely of its apparitions, we are again 

 in the presence of the old grey skies, the silent and the seemingly 

 unresponsive heaven. But the two feelings, whether major or 

 minor, whether for the time in the foreground or the background 

 of consciousness, are complementary ones. They are, indeed, but 

 the two sides of the knowableness and the unknovvableness of the 

 Infinite. 



Our inability to look on nature as Wordsworth did, is as often 

 due to our artificiality, as to our shallowness. If nature is to 

 continue to subdue, to teach and to mould, as well as to fascinate 

 us, we must retain the heart of childhood, with its natural wonder, 

 delight, admiration, and reverence, — let the intellect develop as it 

 may. In a 'wise passiveness' we must receive her sweet influences 

 from without. She won't yield up her secret to us when we are 

 being wliirled along on the surface of life's stream, absorbed, and 

 excited by artificial things, or magnetised by any secondary interest. 

 This was nobly taught by Wordsworth in the sonnet beginning — 



The world is too much with us. Late and soon, 

 Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers. 

 Little we see in nature that is ours. 



There is a most intimate relation between Wordsworth's 



