82 THE EVERLASTING NO. Of my beloved Country. Wishing not All have to undergo some great grief in life-many a far more close and severe grief than that which assailed our poet. Compared with those conflicts which many hearts have to bear and endure, his will seem indeed trifling. Still it was a mighty grief, no less than the reeling and splitting of a world, and the shaking foundations that seemed to stand firm and venerable beneath the feet-only, the cracking of the world is not so grave a matter to a man as the cracking of the heart, and the one is much more easily mended than the other. These rendings of heart or world too tend to harden, and to give substance to the mental nature, they strengthen, and when the spirit has recovered the shock they renew. A man has no very firm foundation who has not had, two or three times, his structure on the sand washed away; on the whole, have we not to say that great disappointments are among our best educators; they send away some pleasant illusions; let in some beams of light, painful it may be to the eye, but these illusions are illusions, and light is light, and it is by passing through the one, and gratefully receiving the other, that we are admitted to the true reality of things. CHAPTER IV. THE POET AND HIS SISTER. "Under yon orchard in yon humble cot, Oh if such silence be not thanks to God For what hath been bestowed, then where, where then Fix on a lovely object, nor my mind Take pleasure in the midst of happy thoughts THE RECLUSE. "Woman with looks that can charm and enchain SCHILLER. Up to this period the Poet had been for the most part a solitary, and perhaps not a very happy, wanderer 84 THE POET AND HIS SISTER. over the world; we cannot see that any person as yet bad greatly influenced his life, and through his whole mental history it is difficult to find that any book or He was separated from books materially affected him. his brothers; he had in no distinct sense of the word a home, and he was the subject of feelings and thoughts which as yet had no kindred nature with which to communicate; for it seems he had been almost wholly separated from his sister, his sister, who was however soon to exercise so fine and hallowing a control over his life! and character: we shall have occasion to revert to his frequent and most affectionate mention of her; indeed it is clear that the history of the Poet's mind would be quite incomplete without thus tracing their connection together, since it is in reference to her he says "She gave me eyes, she gave me ears, His nature was exquisite, and most sensitive in its tenderness, but it possessed many elements of a more stern and invulnerable character; and we cannot but think that his life would have presented a wholly different aspect to the world had his sister not been with him. We have sometimes even questioned whether she did not prevent his attainment to a higher eminence by constantly calling off his attention to shades and colours, and shapes, of simple and ineffable beauty, and thus preventing him from building up one great and elabo THE POET'S SISTER. 85 rate piece of architecture. We might think this if we did not also feel that that sister could comprehend his nature in all its powers and capacities far better than we can hope to do, and if we were not reminded by memory that the Excursion-his longest and perhaps most ambitious Poem, is not therefore his greatest work. He gives us intimations however how perfectly aware he was of his sister's influence over his mind, and the best constituted and most gentle nature would undoubtedly sink to a mournful callousness without some feminine influence around it; for Self-denial, Gentleness Meekness, Watchfulness, Hope, and Faith, all that make a religious character, and a noble character, seem much more instinctive with woman than with man. Hitherto we have seen our Poet alone in his College Chambers, alone for the most part through the streets of Paris, and on the solemn banks of French Rivers, and still alone by the sick bed of his dying friend, and a battle was going on in his spirit which he had to fight alone; his writings, few, up to this period, bear testimony to the despondency stealing over his heart, when his sister-his only sister Dorothy became his companion. What his sister was to him he best knew, and he has certainly crowned her for immortality in some of the most beautiful and votive offerings of his verse; we could cite many illustrations-he says "I too exclusively esteemed that love, And sought that beauty which as Milton sings Hath terror in it. Thou didst soften down This over sternness; but for thee dear Friend! I 86 INFLUENCE OF WOMAN. My love too reckless of mild grace had stood It is to her he frequently refers as preserving in the midst of all her enthusiasm a heart unadulterated by the world, retaining unshaken its faith and its confidence. Thus she met him in that moment when his heart had lost its repose, and when his mind had almost determined on casting itself loose from its safe anchorage and trust. And now we shall in following the one have also to follow the other-she accompanied him in his wanderings-she was his faithful prompter and amanuensis—she pointed to the more loving heart of things; and by delicate and graceful commendation and eulogy, and by preserving as an occasional insertion some of her own very beautiful verses, he has taught us how great were his obligations to his sister Dorothy. It seems as if in all the lives of our greatest and most venerable teachers, Nature constantly impressed on us the truth that man's education cannot be perfected without woman. She calls his spirit back when she uses her own natural force, from misanthropy and scepticism, and despair; she teaches him the weakness of merely intellectual strength; she compels him to distrust himself, even while she invites him to repose on |