better, if you will, for a narrative poem, but they are not the same. My object has been to go on in the old groove, though I wish to make my lines as free as possible, consistently with what would, I suppose, be called in politics a liberal conservatism. Having said thus much, I have nothing more to do, except to gladly avail myself of this opportunity to express my grateful thanks to the University in general, and to the Members of my own College in particular, for the kindness with which I have been met throughout my tenure of office. ALL SOULS COLLEGE: February 10, 1877. LECTURE I. WORDSWORTH. 6 THE PRELUDE' ETC. 'The Prelude,' Wordsworth's longest poem, it is my purpose to examine to-day. At the same time, I do not propose to look at it entirely by itself. I have come to this decision mainly because it is connected in a remarkable-from some points of view, in a melancholy-manner, with all that is highest in Wordsworth's poetical achievements, with all that is likely to be most enduring in his poetical renown. Even on its own merits it well deserves a close and careful examination; but we must travel outside of this poem, and beyond it, if we wish to understand its full significance, both whilst the author was writing his 'Prelude,' and again, immediately after it had been written and completed. Taken by itself, it is, if not the best, at any rate, one of the most interesting productions of the age to which it belongs. Indeed, in one respect it stands, so far as I know, alone. No other poem occurs to me of equal length, of equal importance, composed by a great poet, at the very time when all his faculties were in their fullest vigour, which yet was kept apart and hidden away for so many years. 'Nonumque prematur in annum' has become a proverb to express the ne plus ultra of discreet reticence and self-criticising suppression. But Wordsworth suppressed 'The Prelude,' not for nine years only, but for forty years at least. Nay, as far as he personally is concerned, when we remember how profound B was his instinct of immortality, how deeply-rooted his faith in the future destinies of the human spirit, we cannot help saying even more than this. According to his notions, everything that earth can bestow becomes, immediately after man's transference to a higher state of things, absolutely valueless and childish: We may then fairly say that 'The Prelude' was suppressed for good and all. This I affirm, because it was not given to us by him, but rescued from oblivion by others after his death; and because, in this very poem by him so suppressed, we see of how little importance what is called posthumous fame appeared to Wordsworth, in comparison with all that is reserved for man, after he has passed beyond the limits of time. With solemn emphasis he, ranking among the few to whom a lasting reputation has been vouchsafed, finely expresses his conviction that the immortal soul, whatever its intellectual achievements here, must discover, as soon as it has been uplifted into other conditions of existence, that it has outgrown all the trappings and equipments belonging to its infancy on earth. It will have passed out of the atmosphere and surroundings where such things have any reality or purpose. Accordingly, in speaking of the power and permanence of man's literary work, this is what he says: Thou also, man, hast wrought, For commerce of thy nature with itself, Thoughts that aspire to unconquerable life : If, therefore, I do not misinterpret him, Wordsworth deliberately sacrificed this gigantic composition, during all those years when to publish it would have had a meaning for him. That this was anything but a light sacrifice for a poet possessed, and worthily possessed, by so high an opinion of himself and his own works, I need scarcely tell you. To proceed, however, |