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INDIANA UNIVERSITY STUDIES 



galaxy of the universe, 'outwardly, inwardly contemplated, as, of 

 all visible natures, crown, though born of dust,' he appears to be 

 the abstraction and ideal of nature. 



Hence it becomes easier to understand why Wordsworth's ex- 

 periences in revolutionary France, described in the ninth, tenth, 

 and eleventh books, brought to him both disillusionment in regard 

 to this glorified type, natural man, and also further conviction of 

 the majestic and beneficent influence of nature over the individual 

 devoted to contemplation of her true meanings. Without the disil- 

 lusionment — without his intimate knowledge of the Revolution, 

 that is — he could not have had the final motive for writing 'The 

 Prelude.' Without his previous store of experience, on the other 

 hand, he could not have perceived, in the way he did, the relation 

 of the promise of revolutionary ideals to their failure, the relation 

 of visionary speculation to the crop of facts. He saw clearly, for 

 example, that man, guided by certain abstract principles to certain 

 specific actions, committing crimes in the name of Liberty and 

 Nature, does not prove nature's teaching specious. What he does 

 prove is the necessity of longer and more careful contemplation 

 of nature. So, when Wordsworth 's indulgent belief in the inherent 

 goodness of mankind finally turns to bitterness and confusion, 

 when again his resources in reason and in abstractions turn to in- 

 tellectual despair, it is only his boyhood in the Lake Country and 

 his sisters' affection and character that seem to him the stable part 

 of his existence. He seeks their influence once more and is slowly 

 restored. 'In Nature still glorying, I found a counterpoise in her 

 (his sister) which, when the spirit of evil reached its height, main- 

 tained for me a secret happiness. ' 



It is into this secret happiness that he now retires, not neces- 

 sarily through disappointment in the world, but from a desire to 

 contemplate the world in tranquillity. He also perceives that for 

 him, as a poet, wide experiences and the sight of many things can 

 be only a background, not the immediate inspiration of his genius. 

 Continued search for novelty lays the inner faculties asleep ; and he 

 makes a conscious effort to shake off the habits of thought that he 

 perceives arise from an inhibitive multiplicity of impression. His 

 final poetic regeneration he describes by saying : 



I shook the habit off 

 Entirely and forever, and again 

 In Nature's presence stood, as now I stand, 

 A sensitive being, and a creative soul, . . . 

 From Nature doth emotion come, and moods 



