REYNOLDS
NATURE
IN
ENGLISH
FOETRY
GRAD
821
R46tr

ARTES
1817
VERITAS
LIBRARY
SCIENTIA
OF THE
UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN
TUEBOR
#SIQUEMIS PENINSULAM AMINAM,
CIRCUMSPICE
:
THE TREATMENT
OF
NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
61968
BETWEEN POPE AND WORDSWORTH
SUBMITTED TO THE FACULTY OF ARTS, LITERATURE, AND SCIENCE,
OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO, IN CANDIDACY FOR
THE DEGREE OF DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY
BY
MYRA REYNOLDS
CHICAGO
The University of Chicago Press
1896
3
TABLE OF CONTENTS
INTRODUCTION
CHAPTER I The Treatment of Nature in English Classical Poetry
CHAPTER II Indications of a New Attitude towards Nature in
the Poetry of the Eighteenth Century
-
CHAPTER III
Gardening
CHAPTER IV Travels
CHAPTER V Fiction
-
CHAPTER VI Landscape Painting
CHAPTER VII General Summary
BIBLIOGRAPHICAL INDEX
GENERAL INDEX
iii
PAGE
V-X
I-52
·
-
53-179
180-192
193-212
213-230
231-241
242-274
- 275-280
281-290
1
.
-*
Introductory
statement
INTRODUCTION.
The general theme of the treatment of nature in literature is
not a new one. Schiller's essay entitled "Ueber die Naive und
Sentimentale Dichtung" (1794), was the first attempt
to state and explain the difference between the
classical way of looking at nature and the modern
way. The externality, the lack of heart, in the
classical attitude towards nature, he attributed to the fact that
the Greeks were in their thoughts and habits of life so a part of
nature that they felt no impulse to seek her with the passionate
longing of the modern poet, whose ardent and heartfelt love of
nature is but the result of a mode of thought and life out of
harmony with her. This essay, however inadequate as a presen-
tation of the Greek attitude towards nature,' determined the lines
on which much of succeeding study was made.
Alexander von Humboldt in his Kosmos (1845-58), in the
midst of his scientific generalizations and his encyclopædic
accumulation of natural facts takes occasion to discuss the treat-
ment of nature in poetry and landscape painting. The chapter
on landscape painting is chiefly confined to such topographical,
botanical, and other pictorial representations as serve to add to
our knowledge of distant lands. The boundaries of the whole
question are enlarged by a representation of the profound feeling
for nature in Semitic and Indo-European races. There is a brief
study of the mediæval feeling for nature as it appears in Dante,
and finally of the treatment of nature in some prose writers of
'Humboldt was the first to attack Schiller's view. He said that after a full
reading of Greek and Roman authors he found himself unable to accept Schil-
ler's statement without many reservations. Later Biese spoke of Schiller's
Essay as "jener bahnbrechende Aufsatz," but showed that the statement of the
case was inadequate because it was based on the poetry of a single period and thus
failed entirely to take account of many phases of nature presented in the
poetry after the brief “reflexionslose naive homerische Zeit."
V
:
vi
INTRODUCTION
:
.
the eighteenth century. The only English poets mentioned are
Shakespeare, Thomson, and Byron, the whole subject of English
poetry being disposed of in less than a page.
In Ruskin's Modern Painters (1843-60) are several most
interesting chapters on Landscape in classical, medieval, and
modern times. "Of the Pathetic Fallacy" and "The Moral of
Landscape" are also suggestive though misleading studies.
Victor de Laprade's La Sentiment de la Nature (1866, 1868)
contains in full the theories already suggested in the preface to
his Les Symphones. In the introductory chapters he outlines his.
conception of the development of art. He regards architecture
as essentially the expression of man's interest in religion ;
sculpture of his interest in the demi-god or hero; painting of
his interest in the complex and varied life of man as man; while
the characteristic art of the present age is music with which the
love of nature is closely allied, since both affect the mind
indirectly through indeterminate and vaguely suggestive har-
monies, and both tend by their complexity and subtlety to rouse
sweet reveries, luxurious emotion, nameless longings, ineffectual
aspirations, but leave the conscience and the will untouched.
No one can read these critical studies of Laprade or his earlier
poems without feeling his enthusiastic joy in the presence of
But he feared this joy and counted it a part of the con-
cupiscence of the flesh except as it became an avenue to com-
munion with the divine spirit. His indictment against the
passion for nature in modern music, painting, poetry, fiction,
science, is that the material is everywhere exalted at the expense
of the spiritual. To be of value the presentation of the external
world in whatever realm of art must subordinate its appeal.
to the senses, and emphasize its appeal to man's inner life.
Laprade's work is a plea for idealism as against realism. In all
his brilliant presentation of the attitude towards external nature
of different races in different epochs, this point of view must be
taken into account. In his rapid survey of English poetry the
poets to receive closest attention are Shakespeare, Spenser, and
Milton. In later times the most significant of the poets who
"gravitent antour de Lord Byron" are Wordsworth and Shelley,
nature.
C
INTRODUCTION
vii
who, in their attitude towards nature, are respectively moralist
and metaphysician. Byron's distinction is that he alone found
“le juste équilibre entre l'exubérance de la nature et celle du pur
esprit." Thomson's Seasons are of value because of good genre
pictures and vivid descriptions of English sports, but the initial
force in the return to nature is Burns.
Unquestionably the most important of the books that treat of
nature in the realm of art is Biese's Die Entwickelung des Naturge-
fühls im Mittelalter und in der Neuzeit (1888).' The book is writ-
ten with enthusiasm and is most stimulating and suggestive. The
subject matter is well in hand, and so thoroughly organized that
the great movements in the historical development of the love of
nature are easily grasped. The plan is comprehensive, including
not only poetry, but, in briefer outline, landscape painting and
gardening, and, incidentally, even fiction and philosophy. The
least satisfactory portion of the book is the treatment of the love
of nature in English life and thought. There is some stress on
the development of the English garden, but English landscape
painting is not mentioned. In the casual mention of English
fiction the emphasis is on Defoe. In poetry two epochs are
recognized, that of Shakespeare and that of Byron. The chapter
on Shakespeare is a close and valuable study. The work of
Byron is estimated with justness and sympathy, as is also that of
Shelley. But the study of Wordsworth as a poet of nature is
singularly inadequate. His genius is considered as essentially of
the pastoral-idyllic order, with now and then glimpses of an
"echte Liebe für die Natur," and an unmistakable Pantheism.
He is chiefly important as having done for England what Scott
did for Scotland and Moore for Ireland and as sounding certain
notes which rang again in Byron "in verstärkter Tonart."
Thomson is the only eighteenth century poet studied. Here
again is a failure to recognize the real importance of the poet's
¹ Biese has two earlier important books: Die Entwickelung des Natur-
gefühls bei den Griechen (1882) and Die Entwickelung des Naturgefühls bei den
Römern (1884). In Zeitschrift für vergleichende Litteraturgeschichte, Neue Folge,
Siebenter Band (1894), p. 311, is a valuable annotated summary of recent (since
1882) German studies on das antike und das deutsche Naturgefühl.
1
viii
INTRODUCTION
work. Biese acknowledges the truth of Thomson's separate pic-
tures of nature, and his genuine love of the country, but denies
his importance as a "pathfinder," saying that he but followed
where Pope's Pastorals and Windsor Forest had marked out the
way.
In 1887 appeared John Veitch's The Feeling for Nature in
Scottish Poetry. The first volume begins with the early romances
and national epics, and takes up the chief poets down to James
VI. The second volume is devoted to the modern period from
Ramsay to David Gray. Most of the authors treated belong to
the nineteenth century, but there are admirable brief studies of
Ramsay, Thomson, Hamilton of Bangour, Bruce, Fergusson, and
Burns. There is also a short but interesting chapter on the rise
of landscape painting, with especial attention to its develop-
ment in Scotland. Veitch's book is written out of a full knowl-
edge and warm appreciation of Scottish poetry and of Scottish
nature, and his critical dicta are usually trustworthy, though he
shows, perhaps, a tendency to over emphasize the influence of
Scottish poetry on the love of nature in succeeding English
poetry.
In John Campbell Shairp's Poetic Interpretation of Nature
(1889) are studies of Homer, Lucretius, and Virgil; of Chaucer,
Shakespeare, and Milton; and of Wordsworth. Two chapters
are devoted to the eighteenth century. Ramsay is the poet to
whom the reappearance of the feeling for natural beauty is traced.
Thomson is praised for his minute faithfulness in description,
and his genuine love of the country, but his tawdry diction and
superficial conception of nature are heavy indictments against
him. The chapter on Collins, Gray, Goldsmith, Burns, Cowper,
Ossian, and the Ballads is interesting, but from its brevity is
necessarily inadequate. The most suggestive chapter in the book
is the one in which there is a classification of the ways in which
poets deal with nature. The whole subject of the treatment of
nature in poetry is an attractive one to Mr. Shairp, and he fre-
(a) They express childlike delight in the open-air world. (b) They use
nature as the background or setting to human action or emotion. (c) They see
nature through historic coloring. (d) They make nature sympathize with their
INTRODUCTION
ix
quently recurs to it in his Studies in Poetry and Philosophy and ·
Aspects of Poetry.
In many books, also, not devoted exclusively to the treatment of
nature in literature there are special studies and much running com-
ment of a valuable sort. This is true of almost all essays on the early
nineteenth century poets, and especially so of the various essays
on Wordsworth. There is something to be found in Manuals of
English Literature, as in Gosse's Eighteenth Century in the chapter,
"The Dawn of Naturalism," in various notes in Perry's English
Literature of the Eighteenth Century, Phelps's The English Romantic
Movement, and others; also, in some histories, as in Lecky's
History of England in the Eighteenth Century; in some philosophi-
cal studies, as in Leslie Stephen's English Thought in the Eigh-
teenth Century ("The Literary Reaction"), and in Stopford
Brooke's Theology in the English Poets (passim); in various literary
studies, as in McLaughlin's Studies in Mediaval Life and Litera-
ture ("The Medieval Feeling for Nature"), Vernon Lee's
Euphorion ("The Outdoor Poetry "), Symonds's Essays Speculative
and Suggestive ("Landscape") ("Nature Myths and Allegories"),
Burroughs's Fresh Fields ("Birds and Poets") and Fischer's
Drei Studien zur Englischen Litteraturgeschichte ("Uber den
Einfluss der See auf die Englische Litteratur").
The books indicated show that there is much interest in the
general theme of nature as an element of art. The literary
periods that have been most studied are, however, the Greek and
Roman, the medieval, and the modern. The treatment of nature
in so barren a time as the eighteenth century in England has
naturally received little close attention. In my own work on
this period I have endeavored to discover what indications there
are that the attitude toward nature of the early nineteenth century
is but the legitimate outcome of influences actively at work
during the eighteenth century. This study is therefore one of
origins.
I have divided my work into three parts. I have endeavored
own feelings. (e) They dwell upon the Inhuman or Infinite side of nature.
(f) They give description for its own sake. (g) They interpret nature by
imaginative sympathy. () They use nature as a symbol of spirit.
X
INTRODUCTION
1
to give first a general statement of the chief characteristics that
marked the treatment of nature under the dominance of the
English classical poets. Then follows a detailed study of such
eighteenth century poets as show some new conception of
nature. The third division is made up of briefer studies of the
landscape gardening, the fiction, the books of travel, and the
painting of the eighteenth century, the purpose being to deter-
mine in how far the spirit found in the poetry reveals itself in
other realms in which the love of nature might be expected to
find expression.
·
CHAPTER I.
THE TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH CLASSICAL POETRY.
The poetry of the English classical period falls naturally into
four subdivisions.
Subdivisions
of classical
period
1. The period of inception may be reckoned as
beginning with Waller's first couplets in 1621 and
including the work of his followers, Denham, Dav-
enant, and Cowley.'
2. The period of establishment includes the work between
the Restoration and 1700. Dryden is the central figure.
3. The period of culmination is a brief period covering less
than the first quarter of the eighteenth century. Pope is the
central figure.
4. The period of decadence extends from about 1725 to
the end of the century.
Purpose and
method in
this study
Any generalizations concerning the attitude of this classical
period towards nature must be based on a large number of spe-
cific instances, but in collecting and using these
specific instances certain cautions must be observed.
Chief among these is the necessity of keeping in
mind the point of view from which the study
should be made. It is not the purpose to discover all that has
been said about nature by the classical poets between 1623 and
1798. It is the purpose, rather, to eliminate exceptions, and to
dwell on the general, obvious qualities, the typical features,
of the classical poet's conception of nature. This principle
determines the relative importance of the periods noted above.
Illustrations drawn from a large number of poems in the second
and third periods would serve as the basis for a general state-
Illustrations from periods one and four would need to be
ment.
¹ Gosse: From Shakespeare to Pope.
I
2
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
scrutinized, for they might be purely classical, or they might be
survivals of the Elizabethan romantic age or prophecies of the
modern romantic age. Cowley, for instance, belongs to the
first classical period because he wrote in couplets, but his dic-
tion, his conceits, and in some respects his attitude towards
nature are post Elizabethan rather than classical. Illustrations
from his poems are of value, therefore, for the present purpose,
only when they are in accord with the spirit afterwards found in
the time of Dryden and Pope. So, too, Milton and Marvell,
though coming chronologically within the first and second
periods, stand in the main quite aloof from any tendencies that
can be called classical, and their poetry is referred to only when
it seems to illustrate the dominant classical conception. Abun-
dant and valuable illustration of the classical conception may bẹ
drawn from the fourth period, because tendencies are nowhere
more clearly shown than in the inevitable exaggerations of a
time of decadence, but the legitimacy of any illustration is deter-
mined by its likeness to the dominating traits of the preceding
periods. While this study is confined in the main to the poets.
of the period, Journals, Letters, Travels, and Essays have been
sparingly quoted where they serve as proof that the poetry
fairly represents the spirit of the age in which it was written.
Pope called Wycherley an "obstinate lover of the town.
and the phrase may well be taken to mark one characteristic of
the orthodox classicists. Poems, Letters, Journals,
Biographies, and Essays bear witness to the reluc-
tance with which the men and women of this age
bade farewell to the "dear, damned, distracting
town."2
Charles Lamb's lifelong devotion to
Fleet Street and the Strand, and the sentiment of
the cockneys who, as Hazlitt said, preferred hang-
ing in London to a natural death out of it,³ have their true
prototypes in the classical age. "When a man is tired of Lon-
don he is tired of life," is Dr. Johnson's dictum. Gibbon said
Attitude
towards
nature shown
by general
preference for
city life
I
¹ Pope: Letters, Vol. I, p. 73.
2 Pope: A Farewell to London, Works, Vol. IV, p. 481.
3 Hazlitt: On Londoners and Country People.
"I
NATURE IN ENGLISH CLASSICAL POETRY
3
that when he visited the country it was to see his friends and not
the trees. Boswell's only justification of a hastily expressed lik-
ing for the country was that he had "appropriated the finest
descriptions in the ancient Classicks to certain scenes there." But
not even the classics could reconcile most people to a country
life. It was dreary, monotonous, difficult. There was no
society, no news. The days went yawningly by with no vivid
interests, no stirring occurrences. "No person of sense,"
exclaimed Mr. Mallet's sister, "would live six miles out of Lon-
don." 2
To live in the country was to be buried. Lord Bath-
urst looked upon his sojourn in his country home as a "sound
nap "3 preparatory to Parliament. "If you wish to know how I
live, or rather lose a life in the country," wrote Pope, "Martial
will inform you in one line:
Prandeo, poto, cano, ludo, lego, caeno, quiesco.”4
Pope found pure air and regular hours a physical necessity,
but he often rebelled at his banishment from town delights, as
did his "fond virgin" when compelled to seek wholesome coun-
try air.
"She went to plain-work, and to purling brooks,
Old-fashioned halls, dull aunts, and croaking rooks,
She went from Opera, Park, Assembly, Play,
To morning walks, and prayers three hours a day;
To part the time 'twixt reading and bohea,
To muse, and spill her solitary tea,
Or o'er cold coffee trifle with the spoon,
Count the slow clock, and dine exact at noon.
I
Isabella in Dryden's The Wild Gallant speaks the general senti-
ient: "He I marry must promise me to live at London.
cannot abide to be in the country, like a wild beast in the wil-
derness: So, too, Harriet, in The Man of Mode, counted all
beyond Hyde Park a desert, and said that her love of the town
176
¹ Boswell: Life of Dr. Johnson, Vol. III, p. 178 and note.
2
Pope Letters, Vol. IV, p. 449.
3 Pope: Letters, Vol. III, p. 346.
4
* Pope: Letters, Vol. I, p. 67.
5
Pope Works, Vol. III, p. 226.
"Dryden: Works, Vol. II, p. 74.
1
4
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
2
was so intense as to make her hate the country even in pictures
and hangings.' In Epsom Wells the apostle of "a pretty inno-
cent country life," is the boor Clodpate, but Lucia assures him
that people really live nowhere but in London, for the "insipid
dull being" of country folk cannot be called life. It was in
much the same spirit that Lady Mary Pierrepont responded to
Lord Montagu's proposition that they should live at Wharne-
cliffe. "Very few people," she said, "that have settled entirely
in the country but have grown at length weary of one another."
Her preference for town life recurs in her poem, The Bride in
the Country.
"By the side of a half rotten wood
Melantha sat silently down,
Convinced that her scheme was not good,
And vexed to be absent from Town.
How simple was I to believe
Delusive, poetical dreams!
Or the flattering landscapes they give
Of meadows and murmuring streams.
Bleak mountains, and cold starving rocks,
Are the wretched result of my pains;
The swains greater brutes than their flocks,
The nymphs as polite as the swains.” 4
When Shenstone's young squire went forth to London in search
of a wife the desired lady declared that she "could breathe
nowhere else but in town."5 Lyttleton's fair maiden finds
country life "supinely calm, and dully innocent," and affirms
that
"The town, the Court, is Beauty's proper sphere." "
Young's Fulvia had a similar passion for the town.
Green fields, and shady groves, and crystal springs,
And larks, and nightingales, are odious things ;
I Etherege: The Man of Mode, Act 3, Sc. 1; Act 5, Sc. 3.
Shadwell: Epsom Wells, Act 2, Sc. 1.
3 Montagu: Letters and Works, Vol. I, p. 72.
4 Montagu: Letters and Works. Vol II, p. 505.
5 Shenstone: A Ballad.
"Lyttleton Soliloquy of a Beauty in the Country.
NATURE IN ENGLISH CLASSICAL POETRY
มา
5
And smoke, and dust, and noise, and crowds, delight,
And to be pressed to death, transports her quite.":
In Aaron Hill's poems we find a characteristic contest over the
respective merits of city and country. Philemon exclaims,
"Let rustic sports engage the labʼring hind,
And cultivated acres plough his mind;
Let him to unfrequented woods repair,
And snuff, unenvy'd, his lean mountain air,"
Damon endeavors to defend
"Th' unglorious preference of a country life"
Browne's
by calling in evidence Cowley's retirement to the shades, but
Philemon triumphantly shows that Cowley's dislike of the town
was a clear case of sour grapes. In the end Damon recognizes
that it is weak and unmanly to prefer the country.²
Celia explains to Chloe that country life may become endurable
if one does not give herself up to "dull landscape" but learns to
think of the country as "the town in miniature.”³
Such expressions as these are typical. They indicate the
general dislike for any life away from the city. And even those
who loved the country, or thought they did, were far enough
from caring for any but the tamest of its possible delights.
Pope's list of country pleasures, though half humorous, is never-
theless suggestive. In contrast to Mrs. M-'s devotion to
"play-houses, parks, assemblies, London," he depicts his own
"rapture" in the presence of "gardens, rookeries, fish-ponds,
arbours.' When Bolingbroke "retired from the Court and
glory to his country-seat and wife"s he bravely insisted that he
liked the change. "Here," he wrote from Dawley, "I shoot
strong and tenacious roots. I have caught hold of the earth and
neither my enemies nor my friends will find it an easy matter to
' Young: Satire V; On Women.
174
2 Aaron Hill: Dialogue between Damon and Philemon.
3 Isaac Hawkins Browne: From Celia to Chloe.
4 Pope: Letters, Vol. IV, p. 476. Cf. From Soame Jenyns in the Country
to the Lord Lovelace in Town..
5 Pope: Letters, Vol. IV, p. 253.
✓
1
6
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
I
transplant me again." But we must join Pope in the laugh
against such a catching hold of the earth when we learn that
Bolingbroke paid £200 to have his country halls painted with
rakes, prongs, spades, and other insignia of husbandry in order
to make it perfectly evident that he really did live on a farm.²
The genuine lover of the country in the classical age expended
his enthusiasm on the mild and easy pleasures of a well-kept
country house easily accessible from the city. That a sane man
could choose to live as Wordsworth did in the Lake District
would have passed belief. In general the country was thought
of but as a good place to recruit one's jaded energies, or as a
refuge where disappointments might be hidden and disgrace for-
gotten.
According to Gay,
"Whene'er a Courtier's out of place,
The country shelters his disgrace," ³
and his deserted, lovelorn Araminta felt that only the melan-
choly shades and croaking ravens of the country could suit her
unhappy fate. Watts thought that none but "useless souls"
should “to woods retreat." On the whole, the words of the city
mouse to his country cousin expressed the prevailing sentiment.
"Let savage beasts lodge in a country den ;
You should see towns, and manners know, and men.
The poet might sing the charms of the country if he chose, but
he was, after all, as Denham said of Virgil and Cowley, only
“gilding dirt.”7
The attitude towards nature in the literature of any age may
be tested in two ways, by what is said, and by what is left unsaid,
I
¹ Pope: Letters, Vol. II, p. 113.
2 Pope: Letters, Vol. II, p. 133.
3 Gay: Fable 33, First Series.
4 Gay: Araminta.
5 Watts: To David Polhill.
4: 172; Lyttleton: To Mr. Poyntz.
Cf. Shenstone: The Progress of Taste,
6
Cowley: The Country Mouse.
7 Denham On Mr. Abraham Cowley's Death, 1. 79.
NATURE IN ENGLISH CLASSICAL POETRY
7
-]
the terrible
and of these the second is perhaps the more significant. Cer-
tainly in the poetry of the classical period the persistent ignor-
ing of the grand and terrible in nature comes
The grand and home to the mind as a most convincing proof of
the prevailing distaste for wild scenery. And
when we apply the other test and find that the
conspiracy of silence is broken only by expressions
indicative of positive dislike of such scenes, the
This point may be clearly illustrated
in nature
ignored
or disliked
case becomes a strong one.
by a somewhat detailed study of the poetical treatment of the
mountains and the sea.
Rarely in the long period between Waller and Wordsworth do
we find any trace of the modern feeling towards mountains.
Mountains
If
they are spoken of at all it is to indicate the
difficulty in surmounting them or to express the
general distaste for anything so savagely and
untameably wild. It is interesting to note that passages express-
ing the most active dislike of mountains show really some close
observation and a good deal of picturesque energy of phrase
They were evidently the outcome of a personal experience, the
unpleasantness of which demanded forcible epithets. They
show that when men were compelled by the exigencies of travel to
go into a mountainous region there was not wanting a perception
of certain characteristic mountain qualities, but that these qualities
were only those exciting repulsion and terror. In no case
does a sense of the sublimity and beauty of mountains find,
or even apparently seek expression. This is true in travels,
fiction, biography, and letters, as well as in poetry. A few typical
illustrations may be given. Howell, who went abroad twice
before 1622, strikes the keynote of the travelers who came later.
He distinctly objected to the "monstrous abruptness" of the
"Pyereny Hills" and he found the Alps even more "high and
hideous." He was obliged to admit that the Welsh mountains
were but mole-hills compared to the Alps, but he thought the
scale more than turned by the fact that those "huge, monstrous
excrescences of nature" were entirely useless, while Eppint¹ and
'James Howell: Epistolæ Ho Elianæ. Bk. 1, Sec. 1, Letters 23, 43.
8
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
**
I
Penminmaur at least furnished grass for the cattle. John
Evelyn apparently regarded the Alps chiefly as an unpleasant
barrier between the "sweete and delicious"
"sweete and delicious" gardens of France
and the corresponding topiary paradises of Italy, and his final
conception of them is as the place where nature swept up the
rubbish of the earth to clear the Plains of Lombardy. Addison
was another of these early travelers, and he, too, found the
journey over the Alps most trying. The "irregular, misshapen
scenes" of a mountainous region gave him little pleasure. He
preferred the safe monotony of plains. Both Evelyn and
Addison expended all the descriptive energy they had to
spare for mountains on Vesuvius, but it was, of course, its
character as a striking and curious natural phenomenon that
attracted them.3 Burnet of the Charter House, the tutor of
Lady Mary Pierrepont, in his Theory of the Earth gives a theo-
logical reason for the existence of mountains. He conceives the
present world as a gigantic ruin, the result of sin. Originally
the earth was perfectly smooth. "It had the beauty of youth and
blooming nature, fresh and fruitful, and not a wrinkle, scar, or
fracture in all its body; no rocks nor mountains, no hollow caves,
nor gaping channels, but even and uniform all over. And the
smoothness of the earth made the face of the heavens so too; the
air was calm and serene; none of those tumultuary motions and
conflicts of vapours, which the winds cause in ours. 'Twas suited
to a golden age, and to the first innocency of nature." But as a
punishment for sin the interior fluid of the earth was allowed to
break through the beautiful smooth crust, and in the ensuing
chaos were piled up those "wild, vast, and indigested heaps of
stone and earth," those "great ruins" that we call mountains.^
In 1715 Pennecuik said that the swelling hills of Tweeddale were,
for the most part, green, grassy, and pleasant, but he objected to
the bordering mountains as being "black, craigie, and of a melan-
choly aspect, with deep and horrid precipices, a wearisome and
'John Evelyn: Diary (1641-1706) pp. 36, 185–9.
2 Addison: Remarks on Italy. Geneva and the Lake.
3 Evelyn: Diary, p. 126; Addison: Remarks on Italy.
4 Thomas Burnet: Theory of the Earth. Ch. on "Mountains.”
•
NATURE IN ENGLISH CLASSICAL POETRY
9
" I
2
comfortless piece of way for travellers.' In 1756 Thomas
Amory commented on the "dreadful northern fells," and called
Westmoreland a "frightful country," and spoke of "the ranges
and groups of mountains horrible to behold."
So late as 1773
Dr. Johnson said of the Highlands of Scotland: "An eye
accustomed to flowery pastures and waving harvests is astonished
and repelled by this wide extent of hopeless sterility. The
appearance is that of matter incapable of form or usefulness,
dismissed by nature from her care.” 3 In the same year Hutchin-
son deprecates the "dreary vicinage of mountains and inclement
skies" in the Lake District. He describes Stainmore thus: "As
we proceeded Spittle presented its solitary edifice to view;
behind which Stainmore arises, whose heights feel the fury of both
eastern and western storms; a dreary prospect extended to
the eye; the hills were clothed in heath, and all around a scene
of barrenness and deformity. . . . All was wilderness and horrid
waste over which the wearied eye travelled with anxiety.
The wearied mind of the traveller endeavours to evade such
objects, and please itself with the fancied images of verdant
plains, purling streams and happy groves."
The attitude towards mountains in the passages already
referred to appears in the poetry of the period with the same
general tone, though with less insistence. Thoughout Waller's
poetry the only epithets applied to mountains are "savage"s and
craggy.' Marvell, the most genuine lover of nature in this
46
116
'Pennecuik: Description of Tweeddale, p. 45.
2 Thomas Amory: Life of John Buncle, Vol. I, p. 291; II, p. 97.
3 Dr. Johnson: Works, Vol. IX, p. 35. Cf. also Dr. Johnson's remark to
Boswell, "He said, he would not wish not to be disgusted in the Highlands;
for that would be to lose the power of distinguishing, and a man might then lie
down in the middle of them. He wished only to conceal his disgust.” See
also his answer to the question, "How do you like the Highlands?" "The
question seemed to irritate him, for he answered, 'How, Sir, can you ask me
what obliges me to speak unfavorably of a country where I have been hospit-
ably entertained? Who can like the Highlands? I like the inhabitants very
well.'" Boswell's Life of Johnson, Vol. V, p. 317 and p. 377.
4 Hutchinson: Excursion to the Lakes, pp. 11, 17.
5 Waller: To my Lord Admiral.
6
❝ Waller: Story of Phoebus and Daphne.
►
ΙΟ
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
!
age, was yet of the age in his feeling towards mountains, for he
characterizes them as ill-designed excrescences that deform the
earth and frighten heaven, and he calls upon them to learn
beauty from the soft access and easy slopes of a well-rounded
hill. The unpleasant phrase, "high, huge-bellied mountains
in one of Milton's youthful poems is hardly atoned for by the
lines in L'Allegro,
<<
"Mountains on whose barren breast
The labouring clouds do often rest,"3
5
112
and his poetry is, in general, marked by the absence of mountain
scenery. Dryden's most famous mountains are "drowsy" and
174
seem to nod." In Blackmore's summary of the charges made
by Lucretius concerning the "unartful contrivance of the world,"
mountains are styled "the earth's dishonor and encumbering
load." The only defence made by the poet is that these encum-
brances do nevertheless restrain the tides, yield veins of ore, and
bear forests of useful wood. So John Philips defends his com-
fortable hypothesis that nothing is made in vain by the fact that
even "that cloud-piercing hill Plinlimmon" is of some value
since it furnishes "shrubby browze" for the goats. And Yalden
explains how erring Nature supplies her own defects by filling
with mines the "vast excrescences of hills" that distort the
surface of the earth. Prior's only mountain is Lebanon with
craggy brow."
Pope has some "bright mountains" that serve
to prop the incumbent sky,' and he occasionally mentions
66
"18
Marvell: Upon the Hill and Grove at Billbarrow.
2 Milton: A Paraphrase on Psalm CXIV.
6
3 Veitch calls attention to the fact that Shakspere with all his universality
showed little if any delight in mountains, and that Milton with his directness of
vision and sympathy went over Switzerland without bringing back an image of
the Alps which he thought fit to preserve. Nature in Scottish Poetry. Vol. I.
p. 107.
4 Dryden: The Indian Emperor, Works, Vol. 2, p. 360.
5 Blackmore: The Creation, Bk. 3: 409.
"John Philips: Cyder 1: 106.
7 Valden: To Sir Humphrey Mackworth.
* Prior: Solomon, Bk. I., 1. 52.
9 Pope: The Temple of Fame.
•
1
NATURE IN ENGLISH CLASSICAL POETRY
I l
2
?? I (6
mountains with such epithets as "hanging," hollow,"¹ and
"headlong." Tickell showed his attitude towards mountains.
in his address to Lord Lonsdale whom he proposed to visit at
Lowther Castle near Penrith, declaring that he did not dread the
harsh climate and rude country, for the Earl's presence would
be sufficient to "hush every wind and every mountain smooth.” 3
Parnell instances in his catalogue of the horrors of Ireland her
hills that with naked heads meet the tempests. Dr. Akenside
speaks of a "horrid pile of hills."5 Along with this frank dis-
approval of mountains is a similar dislike for their concomitants
such as precipices, wildernesses, and even dense thickets.
Pope: On St. Cecilia's Day.
2 Pope: Windsor Forest, 1. 210.
3 Tickell: Oxford: A Poem, l. 441.
4 Parnell: To Mr. Pope, 1. 83.
6
5 Dr. Akenside: Pleasures of the Imagination, 2:274 (first version).
"This indifference to mountains or dislike of them was not a new thing.
For further illustrations see Perry: Eng. Lit. of 18th Cent., pp. 144-148.
Humboldt in Kosmos 2: 16 says:
"Von dem ewigen Schnee der Alpen, wenn sie sich am Abend oder am
frühen Morgen röthen, von der Schönheit des blauen Gletscher-Eises, von der
grossartigen Natur der schweizerischen Landschaft ist keine Schilderung aus
dem Alterthum auf uns gekommen: und doch gingen ununterbrochen Staats-
männer, Heerführer, und in ihrem Gefolge Litteraten durch Helvetien nach
Gallien. Alle diese Reisenden wissen nur über die unfahrbaren scheusslichen
Wege zu klagen; das Romantische der Naturscenen beschäftigte sie nie. . . .
Silius Italicus. ... beschreibt die Alpengegend als eine schrecken-erregende
vegetationslose Einöde, während er mit Liebe alle Felsen-schluchten Italiens
und die buschigen Ufer des Liris (Garigliano) besingt."
An interesting early exception to this general statement is Petrarch's
description of his ascent of Mt. Ventoux. In a letter dated April 26, 1335,
(Petrarca: Lettere Famigliari, Vol. I, p. 481) he tells how this mountain, ever
before his eyes, had been from childhood a temptation to him, and how he was
finally stimulated to make the ascent by an account of the wide view gained by
Philip of Macedon from one of the highest mountains in Thessaly. The most
significant passage in this letter is that in which are strangely mingled Petrarch's
pleasure in the magnificent prospect and his ascetic fear of a consequent undue
subordination of the soul of man.
"At last I turned to the occasion of my expedition. The sinking sun and
lengthening shadows admonished me that the hour of departure was at hand,
and, as if started from sleep, I turned around and looked to the west. The
•
I2
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
One cause of this antipathetic attitude towards mountains and
wild scenery is, doubtless, as has been often suggested, the hard-
ships and perils of travel before good roads were built. Biese
quotes several eighteenth century letters from German travelers
to show how much "die Schlechten Strassen" had to do with the
Pyrenees-the eye could not reach so far, but I saw the mountains of Lyonnais
distinctly, and the sea by Marseilles; the Rhone, too, was there before me.
Observing these closely, now thinking on the things of earth, and again, as if I
had done with the body, lifting my mind on high, it occurred to me to take out
the copy of St. Augustine's Confessions that I always kept with me; a little
volume but of unlimited value and charm. And I call God to witness that the
first words on which I cast mine eyes were these: 'Men go to wonder at the
heights of mountains, the ocean floods, rivers' long courses, ocean's immensity,
the revolutions of the stars,—and of themselves they have no care!' My
brother asked me what was the matter. I bade him not disturb me. I closed
the book, angry with myself for not ceasing to admire things of earth, instead
of remembering that the human soul is beyond comparison the subject for
admiration. Once and again, as I descended, I gazed back, and the lofty
summit of the mountain seemed to me scarcely a cubit high compared with the
sublime dignity of man." [Translated and commented on by McLaughlin in
The Medieval Feeling for Nature.]
See also Biese: Die Entwickelung des Naturgefühls, p. 151.
"Und somit eröffnet uns dieser Brief, mit seiner Mischung reinen, moder-
nen Naturgenusses und dogmatisch-asketischer Rückbesinnung, einen Blick in
ein zwie-spältiges Herz eines an der Wende zweier Zeiten stehenden Menschen;
es reagiert gleichsam der mittelalterliche Geist wider die aufkeimende moderne
Empfindung."
Another significant utterance comes in 1541 in a letter by Gessner quoted
by Biese, p. 328. It shows a recognition of the greatness and majesty of the
Alps, and has something of the modern feeling :
"So lange mir Gott Leben schenken wird, habe ich beschlossen, jährlich
einige Berge oder doch einen zu besteigen, teils um die Gebirgsflora kennen
zu lernen, teils um den Körper zo kräftigen und den Geist zu erfrischen. Wel-
chen Genuss gewährt es nicht die ungeheuren Bergmassen zu betrachten und
das Haupt in die Wolken zu erheben! Wie stimmt es zur Andacht, wenn man
umringt ist von den Schneedomen, die der grosse Weltbaumeister an dem
einen langen Schöpfungstage geschaffen hat! Wie leer is doch das Leben, wie
niedrig das Streben derer, die auf dem Erdboden umher kriechen, nur um zu
erwerben und spiessbürgerlich zu geniessen! Ihnen bleibt das irdische Para-
dies verschlossen.'
Biese thinks that Rousseau's Nouvelle Heloise (1761) “die Augen über die
Herrlichkeiten der neu entdeckten Alpenwelt öffnete." It is interesting to note
in this connection that the beginning of enthusiastic interest in the mountains
་
NATURE IN ENGLISH CLASSICAL POETRY
13
failure to appreciate the romantic beauty of the Alps.' He finds
another partial explanation of the small interest in mountain
travel in the fact that scientific study of natural phenomena such
as glaciers, geological formations, mountain flora and fauna, was
as yet in its infancy and that thus one whole class of motives for
enduring fatigue and braving difficulties was wanting.2 But
these two reasons do not sufficiently account for the lack of
mountain fervor. It is not merely good roads and scientific
enthusiasm that bid men seek mountain solitudes today. Pre-
Occupation with terror and fatigue were not the only nor the
chief reason of this general dislike of wild scenery. The two
charges even more persistently and definitely brought against
mountains are that they are useless, and that they are a deformity
on the surface of the earth. Now the first of these is but another
expression of the dominant utilitarian standards of value, and the
second is an outcome of the prevailing desire for orderly and
systematic arrangement. Pronounced irregularity of outline was
as irritating to the artistic consciousness as was exceptional license
in verse forms. Mountains entered an inevitable protest against
the spirit that found its highest pleasure in the petty symmetrical
complexities of a typical eighteenth century garden. That this
protest was on a great scale with accompanying suggestions of
mystery and of a remote irresistible power, gives an added
reason why the age turned thus decisively from forms of nature
to which a romantic age yields fullest homage. Thus the attitude
toward mountains finds its real explanation not so much in
external conditions as in the spirit of the times.
The place of the ocean in the classical poetry is likewise
significant. It awakened no sense of elation as in Byron, no
of the English Lake district found expression somewhat earlier in Dalton's
poem (1755), Amory's novel (1756) and Brown's Letter and Rhapsody (before
1766 and probably before 1760). The earliest of the Ossian poems belong in
1760. Goethe's Briefe aus der Schweiz vom Jahre 1779 are according to Biese
the first full and enthusiastic recognition by a German poet of the romantic
charms of the Alps. Die Entwickelung, etc., p. 393.
* Biese: Die Entwickelung, etc., pp.353-355; Lecky: History of England
6:180-183.
2 Biese: Die Entwickelung, etc., pp. 324, 328.
14
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
י-
The ocean
sense of mysterious kinship as in Shelley. It was simply a waste of
waters, dangerous at times, and always wearisome. Though more
often mentioned than the mountains, it received
an even more narrow and conventional treatment.
Except in some elaborate similes there are few
descriptions of more than a line in length. We find merely
causal mention by means of stock epithets, or very short and
unmeaning descriptive phrases. To Waller the sea is "the
world's great waste," "a watery field," a "watery wilderness," or
a "main," liquid, or troubled, or angry as the case may be.¹
Dryden's epithets are hardly more felicitous. He uses "watery "2
with an insistence that finally becomes ludicrous. He has one
or two little ocean pictures written apparently for their own sake,
but his best use of the ocean is in similitudes. In succeeding
poets the treatment of the ocean is exceedingly commonplace and
unimaginative. Such small interest as the sea aroused was of a
prosaic, utilitarian sort. Young's Sea Pieces and Ocean may serve
as examples, and they are little more than eulogies of England's
commercial and naval prowess. It is for Britain that "the servant
Ocean"
"both sinks and swells." It is solely with reference to
her prosperity that soft Zephyr, keen Eurus, Notus, and rough
Boreas "urge their toil."
"The main! The main !
Is Britain's reign;
The main the main !
Be Briton's strain," 3
is the unvaried theme. The few descriptive passages are of
periods when "storms deface the fluid glass," and seem to have
been composed in accordance with Pope's famous recipe for
poetical tempests.4 The most popular sea poem of the eighteenth
¹ Waller: A Panegyric to my Lord Protector, st. II; Instructions to a
Painter, 1. 228; On the Danger His Majesty Escaped, 11. 5, 63, 156.
2 Dryden under "Similitudes," p. 28, and "Diction," p. 38.
3 Young: The Merchant, strain 2, st. 15; strain 3, st. 9; strain 8, st. 13-17.
4" For a Tempest take Eurus, Zephyr, Auster and Boreas and cast them
together in one verse; add to these rain and lightning, quantum sufficit: mix
}
NATURE IN ENGLISH CLASSICAL POETRY
15
century was Falconer's Shipwreck written in 1762. It is a suffi-
ciently remarkable production when thought of as the work of a
common sailor but it is difficult for the modern reader to under-
stand the extravagant praise bestowed upon it in its own day.'
Its tame and conventional love-story, its descriptions of the
sylvan scenes where Palemon and Anna gave pledges of undying
affection, its moralizings on the beneficial effect of poetry, the evils
of war, the corrupting lust of gold, its long digression on cities
and heroes "renowned in antiquity," its invocation to the Muses,
its mythology, its reverence for "sacred Maro's art," are all of
the.commonplace, classical order. There is in the actual ship-
wreck scenes some vigorous writing, but it deals almost entirely
with the emotions of the sailors, and the management of the ship.
It would be difficult to find any really effective lines descriptive
of the storm itself. The following quotations may stand as fairly
representative of the best passages:
"It comes resistless, and with foaming sweep
Upturns the whitening surface of the deep."
But with redoubling force the tempests blow,
And watery hills in dread succession flow."
A sea, upsurging with stupendous roll."
One of the most striking characteristics of the descriptive
parts of the poem is the daring and novel use of technical sea
terms.
Such lines as,
"Reef top-sails, reef! the master calls again.
The halyards and top-bow-lines soon are gone,
To clue-lines and reef-tackles next they run.
Deep on her side, the reeling vessel lies:
Brail up the mizzen quick! the master cries,
Man the clue-garnets! let the main-sheet fly."3
your clouds and billows well together till they foam, and thicken your descrip-
tion here and there with a quicksand. Brew your tempest well in your head
before you set it a blowing." [Works, Vol. X, p. 403.]
'See Monthly Review, Vol. XXVII, p. 197, where Falconer's descriptions
are said to be equal to "anything in the Æneid."
"Falconer: The Shipwreck, Canto II, II. 157, 268, 346.
3 Falconer: Shipwreck, Canto II: 148–166.
16
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
+
are praised as minutely accurate but it certainly needs a special-
ist's training to understand them. There is nothing new in
Falconer's poem except his use of realism in describing the ship's
manœuvres. The sea is, to be sure, more prominent than we
have found it in preceding poems, but it is the same "desert
waste," the same "faithless deep," the same "watery plain," and
is deformed by the typical classical storm. Strange as it may
seem, it is yet true that the poets of sea-girt England were very
slow in making the discovery of the ocean. The main points
in the eighteenth century conception of the sea, were its useful-
ness as a commercial highway and its destructive power in storms.
This impression of irresistible force is sometimes vivid enough to
result in strong phrasing, but the changing beauty, the majesty,
the mysterious suggestiveness of the sea found no expression in
English classical poetry. Even in the poems that mark the
transition spirit the adequate word for the sea is surprisingly slow
to come.
Winter
1
2
In connection with the failure to understand or love the
mountains or the sea we may note the avoidance of winter³ or
the conception of it as the "deformed wrong side
of the year." Lyttleton thoroughly disliked
gloomy winter's unauspicious reign" and Pope
said that its bleak prospects set his very imagination a-shivering.5
Lady Montagu called the glistening snows a painful sight, and
said that the whole country was in winter "deform'd by rains
and rough with blasting winds." The "icy, cold, depressing
}
"Homer
These descriptions rouse Dr. Clarke to a climax of admiration.
has been admired by some for reducing a catalogue of ships into tolerably flow-
ing verse; but who, except a poetical Sailor, the nursling of Apollo, educated
by Neptune, would ever have thought of versifying his own sea-language?
What other poet would even have dreamt of reef-tackles, haliards, clue-garnets,
buntlines, lashings, laniards, and fifty other terms equally obnoxious to the soft
sing-song of modern poetasters." Monthly Review, Vol. XXVII.
2 Biese notes the same fact with regard to German poetry (Die Entwicke-
lung, p. 320).
3 Cf. Veitch: Feeling for Nature, Vol. I, 117.
4 Lyttleton An Epistle to Mr. Pope.
:
5 Pope: Letters, Vol. I, 178.
1
NATURE IN ENGLISH CLASSICAL POETRY
17
:
hand" of winter, brought in a season of privations, discomfort,
and dangers. Throughout the classical period. the typical
phrases are "shuddering winter," "winter's dreary gloom," "the
sad, inverted year." Storms and blasts "deface the year." Hail-
storms "deform the flowery spring." Clouds "sadden the
inverted year." Winter's "joyless reign" is a season marked by
"dusky horrors."
'Fierce winter desolates the year,
Deserts of snow fatigue the eye,
Successive tempests bloat the sky
And gloomy damps oppress the soul,"
""
is a typical description. Another indication of the dislike of
this season is found in a curious Pastoral by Washbourne in
which hell is represented as a place where it is "alwaies winter.'
It will be observed later that a sense of joy in winter scenes is
one of the very early indications of a reviving interest in the out-
door world.
remote and the
Correspondent with the dislike and neglect of the grand and
the terrible in nature is a similar feeling towards such aspects of
the external world as especially suggest mystery,
Dislike of the remoteness, unseen forces. That this is true may
be seen by a study of the sky phenomena that
appear, or fail to appear, in this classical poetry.
The day-time sky is but briefly and vaguely men-
tioned or it passes unobserved. A phrase so imaginative as
Blackmore's "blue gulph of interposing sky"³ is rare. In general
mysterious
in nature
'For illustrative passages, see Montagu: Letters and Works 2:464; Con-
greve: Tears of Amaryllis, 1. 50; Broome: Daphnis and Lycidas, l. 47; Shen-
stone: Upon a Visit in Winter; Pitt: Hymn to Apollo; Hughes: Myra;
Savage: Wanderer, I: 42, 52; John Scott: Elegy on Winter; Akenside: On
the Winter Solstice.
2 For a similar dislike of winter in mediæval poetry, see McLaughlin's
Studies in Medieval Life and Literature, p. 20. He quotes as typical the fol-
lowing from a Latin student song: "The cold icy harshness of winter, its fierce-
ness, and dull, miserable inactivity."
3 Blackmore: Creation 2:393. Cf. Wordsworth's
"The chasm of sky above my head
Is heaven's profoundest azure
In which the everlasting stars abide."
an abyss
Excursion 3:94-98.
18
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
a
""
it is only the more striking aspects of the sky that are noticed,
such aspects as would catch the attention of a
Day-time sky child or of a mere casual observer. Fleeting,
delicate effects are unheeded. Clouds receive
little attention except as they portend or accompany
storm, and even then their chief use is in
is in similitudes.
Apparently the best known appearance of the day-time sky is the
rainbow. But though it is often mentioned there is singularly
little variety in the phrases used to describe it. A brief summary
of those phrases most frequently used is interesting: "Painted
clouds;" "the clouds' gaudy bow;" "the gaudy heavenly bow;"
"the watery bow;" "the painted bow;" "painted tears;" "the
gaudy drapery of heaven's fair bow ;" "the showery arch;" the
bow "painted by Iris;" the bow "deck'd like a gaudy bride;'
"the painted arch of summer skies," and so on through a weari-
some list of kaleidoscopic combinations of the same words. The
constant repetition of adjectives so unmeaning as "watery" and
'showery," or so external and artificial as "gaudy" and
"painted" is as characteristic of the general attitude toward
nature as is the fact that the attention of poets should have been
concentrated on the obvious beauties of the rainbow rather than
on the finer, more subtle charms of the sky. In the same way
sunrise, and especially sunset, are often mentioned and occa-
sionally described. But there is practically no discriminating
and appreciative study of what was actually to be seen in the
heavens. It was more natural to sit at home and read the classics,
and then announce that the golden god of day "drives down his
flaming chariot to the sea.
66
Cf. also Dryden's
112
"The abyss of heaven, the court of stars." (Works, 4:276).
'For illustrative passages, see Waller: Of the Lady; Cowley: Davideis,
2:440, Hymn to Light, and Shortness of Life, st. 11; Young: Ocean, st.
23; Broome Paraphrase of Ecclesiastes; Yalden: Hymn to Morning; John
Philips: Cyder, 2:293; Tickell; Prospect of Peace; Gay: The Espousal;
Rowe: The Queen's Success; Watts: Disappointment; Pitt: Verses, etc., etc.
"For descriptions of this sort, see Hughes: Court of Neptune; Prior:
Solomon, 3:557; Broome: Poem on Death, l. 151; Gay: Rural Sports,
2:323; Gay: Wine, l. 141; Beattie: The Minstrel, 1:17; etc., etc.
¿
NATURE IN ENGLISH CLASSICAL POETRY
19
I
Twilight had, as might be expected, little charm or sugges-
tiveness. Moonlight also plays a most subordinate part in this
poetry. We seldom find anything more direct or
vivid than the time-honored statement that "fair
or "pale" Cynthia "mounts the vaulted sky," and
"adorns the night" with her silver beams.²
Twilight and
moonlight
The night
sky
""
The night sky was counted beautiful because of its stars. The
recurrent conception is that the azure heavens are gilded or
adorned with these orbs of gold. The favorite
words are "spangled" and "gilded." In Young's
Night Thoughts we might expect to find some faith-
ful and sympathetic study of the nocturnal heavens, but in the
first eight books not seventy-five lines refer even remotely to
external nature, and in the ninth book the stress is laid on “the
moral emanations of the skies." In his efforts to find a suffi-
ciently varied star vocabulary, Young was driven to the inven-
tion of some new phrases, but in no case do they show imagina-
Cf. Biese: Die Entwickelung, etc., p. 307.
The following are illustrative phrases:
:
Silver Cynthia lights the world," Garth: Claremont, l. 284; “Pale
Cynthia mounts the vaulted sky," Shenstone: Elegy VI; "Cynthia came, rid-
ing on her silver car," Beattie Minstrel, 2:12; "Cynthia's silver white,"
Hughes: The Picture; "Cynthia, fair regent of the night," Gay: Trivia, 3:3;
“Cynthia's silver ray,” Addison: Imitation of Milton; “Cynthia, great Queen
of Night," Garth: Disp., 5: 282; "Pale Cynthia's melancholy light," Falconer :
Shipwreck, 1:311.
66
The following are illustrative phrases :
Rich Spangles," Waller: Of the Queen; "Spangled nights," Cowley:
Davideis, 1:94; "Spangled sphere," Cowley: The Extasy; "Burning spangles
of sidereal gold," Broome: Paraphrase of Eccl.; "Freezing spangles," Tickell :
On the Prospect of Peace; "The sky spangled with a thousand eyes," Gay :
Fables, Part I: 11; "Spangled pole," Pitt: On the death of Mr. Stanhope;
"Heaven's gilded troops," Cowley: Davideis, 1: 183; "Stars that gild the
gloomy night," Parnell: Hymn to Contentment; "Twinkling stars who gild
the skies," Watts: Sun, Moon, etc.; "Shooting star that gilds the night,"
Somerville: Hobbinol, 3: 261; "Stars that gild the northern skies," Pitt: Con-
gress of Cambray; "Meteor that gilds the night," Somerville: Field Sports,
1: 139; "Globes of light in fields of azure shine," Watts: God's Dominion;
"Orbs of gold in fields of azure lie," Parnell: Queen Anne's Peace, 1.38; “Yon
blue tract enriched with orbs of light," Parnell: David, 1. 358.
20
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
I
1
!
tive power. They are perfunctory and stiff and indicate that his
mind was on the "system of divinity" he meant his stars to teach
rather than on the stars themselves.' In Burnet's Theory of the
Earth, a work already quoted from, we find a striking, because an
exaggerated example of the way an undue love of order could
modify one's aesthetic perception. Burnet enjoyed the night
sky but he felt that the stars might have been more artistically
arranged. "They lie carelessly scattered as if they had been
sown in the heaven like seed, by handfuls, and not by a skilful
hand neither. What a beautiful hemisphere they would have ·
made if they had been placed in rank and order; if they had all
been disposed into regular figures, and the little ones set with
due regard to the greater, and then all finished and made up
into one fair piece or great composition according to the rules
of art and symmetry. What a surprising beauty this would have
been to the inhabitants of the earth? What a lovely roof to our
little world? This indeed might have given us some temptation
to have thought that they had been all made for us; but lest
any such vain imagination should now enter into our thoughts
Providence (besides more important reasons) seems on purpose
to have left them under that negligence or disorder which they
appear unto us."2
The final impression from the study of these
passages that refer to stars or moonlight is that the poets of this
period were not unlike Peter Bell into whose heart "nature ne'er
could find the way :"
'Nor for the moon cared he a tittle,
And for the stars he cared as little." 3
66
Night itself, aside from its starry glories, was thought of but
to be feared for its brown horrors and melancholy shades. The
Some of Young's phrases are rolling spheres," tuneful spheres,"
"revolving spheres," "unnumbered lustres," "6
"unnumbered lustres," "sparks of night," "lucid orbs,”
"radiant choir," "etherial fires,"
"“etherial fires," "mathematic glories,” “aërial racers,
night counselors,' nocturnal suns,' etherial armies," "radiant lamps," "splen-
ambient orbs,” “nocturnal sparks," "night's radiant scale,” etc.
dours,"
99 66
99.66
99.66
"“mid-
2 Burnet: Theory of the Earth, Chapter on Stars. Cf. Prior: Solomon,
1:502-511.
3 Wordsworth: Peter Bell.
3
I
NATURE IN ENGLISH CLASSICAL POETRY
21
1
conception of daylight as useful and safe was a part of classical
good sense. The earliest poem in which we find the beauty and
something of the spiritual power of night repre-
Night
sented is by Lady Winchelsea. Later we find the
characteristic sentimental melancholy of the poets involved in a tis-
sue of moonlight and mystery, while the faint colors and pearly
dews of the dawn, and the gentle sadness of evening shades, or
in extreme cases, even midnight glooms, seem to be the only fit
setting for struggling emotions and vague aspirations. There are
also, as we shall see, throughout the romantic revival, not infre-
quent studies of the sky, especially of sunrise and sunset, from what
we may call the artist's point of view. But all this belongs to
the new spirit and is a very evident break from classical tradi-
tions. Poetry in which the classical note is dominant shows the
utmost coldness and barrenness in all that has to do with the
beauty and significance of the sky whether by night or by day.'
In contrast to the general turning away from the grand or the
mysterious in nature we find a certain friendly feeling
Pleasure in the towards the gentler forms of out-door life. Spring
gentler aspects and summer, blue skies, gently sloping hills, flowery
valleys, cool springs, and shady groves appear in
the poetry with a frequency indicative of some real delight in
' Ruskin (Mod. Painters, 3:248) comments on Dante's "intense detestation
of all mist, rack of cloud or dimness of rain."
of nature
McLaughlin says of clouds, moonlight, etc.:
"Let any reader of medieval poetry recall how imperceptible a part they
play in it, even as plain facts of description. A line in one of the Latin songs
expresses the feeling: their thought of clouds is how delighful not to see them.
Moonlight, too, is seldom dwelt on as poetical; the most romantic touch that
comes to my mind with it, is in Chrestien de Troyes where it shines over the
reconciliation of estranged lovers. Just as we find little notice of sunrise, sun-
set, clouds, and moon, we find little feeling for the stars. They are mentioned
occasionally in a facile way, thought scarcely ever with manifest sentiment."
Studies in Medieval Life and Literature, p. 21.
Mr. Symonds says of the same period :
"The earth is felt chiefly through the delightfulness of healthy sensations.
The stars and clouds, and tempests of the heavens, the ever-recurring miracle
of sunrise, the solemn pageant of sunsetting are almost as though they were
22
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
2
them.' But real affection for nature even in her idyllic forms,
an affection the evident outgrowth of personal experience, is the
exception rather than the rule. When such regard for nature is
apparent, however narrow in scope, it is rightly to be regarded as
an indication of a new feeling towards the external world, for in
general these so-called idyllic descriptions are to the last degree
artificial and unreal. They show that what the poet really enjoyed.
was not so much nature itself, as the creation of fanciful pictures
of nature, the flowing combination of attractive details into such
scenes as he would like to find in the country in case he should
go there.
Garth's description of the Fortunate Islands is typical.
There
No blasts e'er discompose the peaceful sky,
The springs but murmur, and the winds but sigh.
The tuneful swans on gliding rivers float
And warbling dirges die on every note.
Where Flora treads, her Zephyr garlands flings,
And scatters odors from his purple wings;
Whilst birds from woodbine bowers and jasmine groves
Chant their glad nuptials and unenvy'd loves.
Mild seasons, rising hills, and silent dales,
Cool grottoes, silver brooks, and flowery vales,
Groves filled with palmy shrubs, in pomp appear,
And scent with gales of sweet the circling year.'
12
The details of this listless, luxurious description are such as
are combined and recombined in many a picture of supposedly
English scenes. The poet found his pleasure in the vague,
not in this literature.”—J. A. Symonds, Essays Speculative and Suggestive,
p. 300.
In commenting on mediæval out-door poetry Vernon Lee says (Euphorion
p. 120):
"Spring, spring, endless spring-for three long centuries throughout the
world a dreary green monotony of spring. . . . Moreover this mediæval spring is
the spring neither of the shepherd, nor of the farmer, nor of any man to whom
spring brings work and anxiety and hope of gain; it is a mere vague spring
of gentle-folk, or at all events of well-to-do burgesses, taking their pleasure on
the lawns of castle parks."
2 Garth: Dispensary 4: 309.
1
NATURE IN ENGLISH CLASSICAL POETRY
23
•
1.
Description
traditional and
bookish in
character
highly generalized representation of such scenery as might exist
in soine imagined Elysium or Garden of Eden. The final
effect on the mind of the reader is never one of
reality. All is traditional and bookish. Perhaps
there is no more effective way of showing the gen-
eral characteristics of these poetical descriptions
than by an accumulation of examples. Since there
is no danger of spoiling the poetry, it may be permissible for
purposes of emphasis, to print in italics such phrases as belong to
the common poetical stock. The first passage is Rosamond's
description of Woodstock Park:
Flowery mountains,
Mossy fountains,
Shady woods,
Crystal floods.":
I
Here the union of phrases, all conventional in their character, is
entirely fortuitous and undiscriminating. It is impossible not to
feel that Addison picked up his items at random, according to
the scheme of his verse. Take next this invocation by Broome :
"Hail ye soft seats! ye limpid springs and floods!
Ye flowery meads, ye vales and woods.
Ye limpid floods that ever murmuring flow!
Ye verdant meads, where flowers eternal blow!
Ye shady vales, where zephyrs ever play!
Ye woods where little warblers tune their lay.":
Or Shenstone's description of the place of his birth:
"Romantic scenes of pendent hills
And verdant vales, and falling rills
And mossy banks, the fields adorn,
Where Damon, simple swain, was born." 3
Or Lyttleton's lines:
'Addison: Rosamond, Act 1, Sc. 1. Cf. A longer description in the same
poem beginning,
"O the soft, delicious view." Act II., Sc. 3.
2 Broome: On the Seat of War in Flanders.
3 Shenstone: The Progress of Taste 3:7.
24
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
"Here limpid fountains roll through flowery meads,
Here rising forests lift their verdant heads.":
Or Congreve's description of the scenery along the Thames:
"And soft and still the silver surface glides,
The zephyrs fan the field, the whispering breeze
With fragrant breath remurmurs through the trees." 2
Or Parnell's
"High sunny summits, deeply shaded dales,
Thick mossy banks, and flowery winding vales." 3
Or Prior's
"The verdant rising of the flowery hill,
The vale enamelled and the crystal rill." 4
Or Pope's
"Her fate is whispered by the gentle breeze,
And told in sighs to all the trembling trees;
The trembling trees in every plain and wood,
Her fate remurmur to the silver flood." 5
Or Marriott's
"The mimic voice repeats the gales,
That sigh along the flowery vales;
The flowery vales, the falling floods,
The rising rocks, and waving woods,
To the sighing gales reply
Redoubling all the harmony."
Further quotation is useless. It is easy to see that these pas-
sages have no individuality. They might be transposed from
poet to poet without injustice either to poem or poet. They are
like ready-made clothing, cut out by the quantity to fit the average
figure, and never having any niceness or perfection of fit for any
individual form. They are not specific. They have no local
color. They are, furthermore, absolutely superficial. There is no
'Lyttleton: Eclogue IV.
"Congreve: The Birth of the Muse.
3 Parnell: Health: An Eclogue.
4 Prior: Solomon, 3:158
5 Pope: Winter.
6 Marriott: Rinaldo and Armida.
?
NATURE IN ENGLISH CLASSICAL POETRY
25
hint of anything deeper than the conventional external details
mentioned.
Throughout the classical age the most genuine interest in
nature had to do with parks and gardens. The formal garden,
however, which held its own in England till early
Gardens
in the eighteenth century, makes but a small figure.
in the poetry of the period. Its affinities were rather with prose.
In later poetry we find many references to the classical garden,
but they are of the nature of a scornful retrospect, and they belong
to the new spirit. The whole subject of gardening will be pre-
sented in a separate section.
Nature as a
storehouse
of similitudes
nature.
In the study of the evolution of the love of nature from Waller
to Wordsworth we may perhaps mark out three stages in the atti-
tude towards the external world. The last of these
stages is the one based on the cosmic sense, or the
recognition of the essential unity between man and
Of this Wordsworth stands as the first ade-
quate representative. The second stage is marked by the recog-
nition of the world about us as beautiful and worthy of close
study, but this study is detailed and external rather than pene-
trating and suggestive. Very much of the work of the transi-
tion period is of this sort. In the first stage nature is counted of
value chiefly as a storehouse of similitudes illustrative of human
actions and passions. This first stage represents the use of nature
most characteristic of the classical poetry.
A study of the abundant similitudes of this period indicates that
they were drawn from a very narrow range of natural facts. The
lily, the rose, the lark, the nightingale, the wren, bees, stars, drops
of dew, the sea in a storm, the oak and the ivy, leaves, the milky
way—these are the most important sources of similitudes. The
poet chose his similes from facts already canonized by long liter-
ary service, or from the obvious facts of the park or the town gar-
den. There is, in the second place, little apparent effort to secure
accuracy or picturesque effect in the statement of the illustrative
side of the simile. The entire emphasis is on the human fact to
to be illustrated. There is, therefore, in the third place, a fail-
ure to perceive subtle or delicately true analogies. In most com-
.
26
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
parisons the likeness is superficial or it is far fetched. The sim-
iles from nature were not the literary expression of inner congrui-
ties. They were consciously sought for as a part of the necessary
adornment of poetry. Sheridan says:
"I often try'd in vain to find,
A simile for womankind,
A simile I mean to fit 'em,
In every circumstance to hit 'em.
Through every beast and bird I went,
I ransack'd every element;
And after peeping through all nature,
To find so whimsical a creature,
A cloud presented to my view,
And strait this parable I drew."¹
It is this elaborate desire for similitudes together with the small
knowledge of nature that led not only to wearisome iteration of
the same similes but also to the still more wearisome iteration of
the same points of comparison. A rose, for instance, is a perenni-
ally beautiful source of comparisons," but in the eighteenth century
poetry it is used almost exclusively either with the lily in matters
of the complexion, or by itself as representative of a young
maiden. If she is overtaken by misfortune the rose is easily
blasted by northern winds. If she is neglected the rose withers
on its stalk. If she weeps the rose bends its head surcharged
with dew. If she dies young, the rosebud is blasted before it is
blown. The words of the "Angry Rose" to the poet gently satir-
ize this prevalence of rose similes.
"Of all mankind you should not flout us;
What can the Poet do without us?
In every love-song Roses bloom ;
3
We lend you color and perfume.” ³
He gener-
The nightingale has also a conventional use.
ally represents the poet and is either singing with a thorn against
¹Sheridan: New Simile for the Ladies. Dr. Johnson's Eng. Poets. Swift.
2 For an interesting study of the rose in literature from Ausonius to Waller
see "The Pathos of the Rose in Poetry," in Symonds: Essays, p. 368.
Gay; Fables, Part 1:45.
NATURE IN ENGLISH CLASSICAL POETRY
27
:
4
his breast, or is engaged in a musical contest with other birds, in
which contest he quickly silences all competitors, or is himself
driven away by the clamorous noise of a crowd of common birds.
The lark has his own established set of applications. Dryden,
Waller, and Savage represent the poet as a lark singing when the
sun shines, and Waller suits the figure to the times by making the
Queen the Sun.' Tickell called himself an artless lark. Cowley
professed himself emulous of the lark.3 Somerville is a morning
lark. Wycherley compares both Virgil and Pope to larks.5 Any
Fair One has a voice like a lark, and to Dyer's delighted ear the
maidens who spun English yarn sang like a whole choir of larks."
Not infrequently comparisons are drawn from the old custom of
daring larks by mirrors or objects that would excite terror.' The
wren carried aloft on the eagle's back serves a variety of poetical
purposes, but is especially ap: when representing a needy poet
and some powerful patron. Bees are by far the most prolific
source of similitude. Their number, their activity, their stings,
their honey-making are all recognized means of illustration.
8
To express great numbers the most useful similes are drawn
from stars, pearly drops of dew, and, most frequently, leaves in
st. 2.
'Dryden: Works 11:13. Waller "To the Queen." Savage "To Bessy."
2 Tickell To Mr. Addison.
:
3 Cowley: The Shortness of Life.
* Somerville: Field Sports.
5 Wycherley: To Mr. Pope.
6
Dyer: The Fleece.
7 Dryden: Works 4:202, 9:162.
8
Dryden: Works. 4:214, 5:365. Congreve: "On His taking of Namur;"
9 See as illustrative of the bee similtudes: Waller: Battle of the Summer
Island, Canto 3, 1. 24; Cowley: The Inconstant, st. 6; Milton: Paradise Lost,
1:768; Dryden: Works, 9:145, 172; 2:463; Hughes: The Triumph of Peace,
1. 118; Prior: Alma, 3:171; Pope: Dunciad, 4:79; Pope: Temple of Fame; Gay:
Trivia, 2:555; Congreve: Ovid's Art of Love Imitated, 1. 200; A. Philips: To
James Craggs, 1. 151; Stepney: To the Earl of Carlisle, I. 26; Buckingham:
Essay on Poetry, 1. 255; Young: Night Thoughts, 2:462; 6:516; Akenside:
Odes, I: I, st. 2; Dyer: Fleece; 2: 496; 3: 413; 4: 317; Somerville: To Allan Ram-
say, l. 24; Watts: Divine Songs, XX; etc.
28
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
!
3
autumn.¹ An exceedingly popular simile is that of the oak and
ivy, or the elm and the vine. Its use is obvious. The rising
and the setting sun represent various forms of prosperity and
adversity. From Waller on, the Milky Way typifies virtues so
numerous that they shine in one undistinguished blaze. A large
class of similitudes is drawn from water in some form. In this
respect Dryden is typical. It is surprising to observe how many
of his metaphors and similes are based on seas, streams, and
storms, and his most excellent use of nature is in these simili-
tudes, though after going over many of them one comes to
feel that they are all made upon much the same pattern.
After
Dryden conventional comparisons based on floods and angry
seas are frequent.
The customary form of the river. simile of this period is the
comparison of some man's character, or actions, or literary style.
to some historic rivers with marked features. Prior uses the
rapid Volga to represent the impetuous "young Muscovite," while
See as illustrative: Cowley: Davideis, 4:728; Isaiah, ch. 34, st. 2; Plagues
of Egypt, st. 9; Milton: Paradise Lost, 1: 302; Dryden: Works, Vol. 3, p. 422, p.
354; Prior: The Turtle and the Sparrow, 1. 206; King: Art of Love, 1. 1700;
Pope: Essay on Criticism, 2: 109; Temple of Fame, 1. 430; Young: Night
Thoughts, 5:336; The Last Day, 2: 183; Blair: The Grave, 1. 469; etc.
2 See as illustrative: Waller: On Repairing St. Paul's, 1. 25; Cowley:
Davideis, 2:58; Milton: Paradise Lost, 5:215; Yalden: To his perjured Mis-
tress, 1. II; Parnell: The Hermit, 1. 41; Young: Satire IV. 1. 1; Dyer: The
Fleece, 2:648; Halifax: On the Death of Charles II, 1. 77.
3 See as illustrative Dryden's use of the sun in Works, 4:276; 2:148, 185,
215, 454, etc.
4 See as illustrative: Waller: To Amoret; Addison: An Account of the
Greatest English Poets; Spratt: On the Death of the Lord Protector; Dryden:
Works, 11:132; Cowley: Clad all in White.
5 As illustrative of Dryden's use of similitudes drawn from water note the fol-
lowing: Revenge and rage are sudden floods; joys are torrents that overflow
all banks; contending passions are tides that flow against currents; fame is a
swelling current; anger is a dammed up stream that gets new force by opposi-
tion; a ruined life, destroyed fortunes, are shipwrecks; love is like springtides,
full and high, or like a flood that bursts through all dams, or like a stream that
cannot return to its fountain, or like tides that do turn; the disappointed lover
dies like an unfed stream; the mind of a capricious. tyrant is like a vast sea
:
!
ནཾ
*.
:
NATURE IN ENGLISH CLASSICAL POETRY
6
Ι
29
8
he compares his own king to the gentle Thames; and he com-
pares the Romans to the Tyber.2 Pope scornfully likens Curll to
the Uridanus.3 Cowley compares Jonathan to the fair Jordan.*
Halifax compares the reign of Charles II. to the Thames.5 Arm-
strong wishes his own style to combine the qualities of the Tweed
and the Severn. Hughes likened his Muse to the wanton Thames.'
Roscommon thought a dull style was like the passive Soane.Ⓡ
Somerville compared Allan Ramsay's poetry to Avona's silver
tide. Thomson said that De La Cour's numbers went gliding
along in "trickling cadence" and were like the flow of the
Euphrates. Chief among similes of this sort is Denham's well-
known apostrophe to the Thames." There is also frequent use of
open to every wind that blows; the army of the enemy comes like the wind
broke loose upon the main; an obdurate foe is as deaf to supplication as seas
and wind to sinking mariners; an open mind is a crystal brook; grief under-
mines the soul as banks are sapped away by streams; the voice of a mob is like
winds that roar in pursuit of flying waves; unspeakable anger is like water
choking up the narrow vent of the vessel from which it is poured; and so on
through a long list.
10
¹ Prior: Carmen Seculare, st. 22.
2 Prior: Carmen Seculare, st. 4.
3 Pope: Dunciad, Bk. II, 182.
4 Cowley: Davideis, 2:20.
5 Halifax: On the Death of Charles II, 1. 125.
Armstrong: Benevolence, l. 152.
7 Hughes: Greenwich Park.
8 Roscommon: Essay on Translated Verse, 1. 316.
9 Somerville: An Epistle to Allan Ramsay, l. 5.
10 Thomson: To De La Cour.
"Denham: Cooper's Hill.-The echoes of Denham's oratorical antitheses
are frequent enough to justify Swift's prohibition. Denham's lines are,
"O could I flow like thee, and make thy stream
My great example, as it is my theme!
Though deep, yet clear; though gentle yet not duil :
Strong without rage, without o'erflowing full !"
Pope's lines (Dunciad 3: 169), beginning,
"Flow, Welsted, flow! like thine inspirer, Beer,
Tho' stale, not ripe; tho' thin, yet never clear,
Heady, not strong; o'erflowing, tho' not full.”
!
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.
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30
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
rivers in a more general way, as when Parnell compares the
strains of the Psalmist to a rolling river,' and Stanhope compares
Pope's style to a gliding river, and Addison compares Milton's
poems to a clean current showing an odious bottom,³ and Dry
den compares Sir Robert Howard's style to a mighty river. The
use of a river as a simile for life is not infrequent. For various
purposes the Nile was often used. Its annual overflow and its
unknown fountain-head are the chief characteristics drawn upon.
The river similes seem as a whole to be more effectively worked
out and more gracefully managed than most of the other similes
of the period, although they have in no case the beauty and pro-
found symbolism characteristic of the river similes of Words-
worth, Matthew Arnold, and Lowell.
are a parody rather than an imitation. The same cannot be said of the line
(Temple of Fame, l. 374.)
"So soft, though high, so loud, and yet so clear.”
Prior has these lines (C. S. st. 22),
"But her own king she likens to the Thames,
With gentle course devolving fruitful streams;
Serene yet strong, majestic yet sedate,
Swift without violence, without terror great."
Fr. Knapp addresses the sea on the Irish coast in the following lines (To M
Pope.)
"Let me ne'er flow like thee! nor make thy stream
My sad example, or my wretched theme."
Mallet has the lines (cf. Verbal Criticism, 1. 228)
"Great without swelling, without meanness plain;
Serious, not silly; sportive, but not vain;
On trifles slight, on things of use profound,
In quoting sober, and in judging sound."
Dyer we have a fainter echo (The Country Walk, 1. 69),
"Methinks her lays I hear,
So smooth! so sweet! so deep! so clear!"
'Parnell: David, l. 49.
2 Stanhope: Progress of Dullness.
3 Addison: An Account of the Greatest English Poets.
4 Dryden: Works, Vol. 11, p. 7.
NATURE IN ENGLISH CLASSICAL POETRY
31
Another common form of comparison is that in which the
seasons or the various aspects of the day are used to describe
some person. One of the happiest examples is
from Marvell.
The seasons
in similitude
"She summ'd her life up ev'ry day,
Modest as morn, as midday bright,
Gentle as ev'ning, calm as night.'
"I
Later similes are less graceful, but they usually have the anti-
thetical form of expression.2
Fairly numerous similes are drawn from trees. Dryden gives
typical examples, as,
"And lofty cedars as far upward shoot
As to the nether heavens they drive their root."³
This equal spread of roots and branches, the heavy fall of a great
tree, and the superior height of some tall pine or cedar, are the
chief sources of similitudes.
The abundant commonplaces, the fluent ineptitudes of these
eighteenth century similitudes did not escape satire in their own
day.
Now and then a critic looked with scorn upon the ingeni-
ous and exhausting attempts of the poet lovers to devise compari-
sons adequately expressive of the beauty, the fascination, the
cruelty, the coldness, the inconstancy, of their Cynthias of the
minute. Butler thus notes the tendency of poor and unmeaning
metaphors to advance in a mob when female charms were to be
depicted:
"In praising Chloris, moons, and stars, and skies,
Are quickly made to match her face and eyes—
And gold and rubies, with as little care,
To fit the colour of her lips and hair;
And, mixing suns, and flowers, and pearl, and stones,
Make them serve all complexions at once.
¹ Marvell: An Epitaph upon
'Cf. Cowley: Davideis, 3: 553, and Pope: Spring, 1. 81.
3 Dryden: Works, 11:131; 3:390; 2:451.
4 Butler: Satire to a Bad Poet.
32
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
}
This easy method of praising a mistress is also humorously des-
cribed by Ambrose Philips:
"To blooming Phyllis I a song compose,
And, for a rhyme, compare her to the Rose;
Then, while my Fancy works, I write down Morn,
To paint the blush that does her check adorn,
And, when the whiteness of her skin I show,
With extasy bethink myself of Snow.
Thus, without pains, I tinkle in the close,
And sweeten into Verse insipid Prose.'
And Swift in his Apollo's Edict, 1720, specifically prohibits
the use of some of the more wearisomely frequent similitudes.
Some of the laws he imposes on the poets of his realm are:
"No simile shall be begun
With rising or with setting sun."
'No son of mine shall e'er dare say,
Aurora ushered-in the day,
Or even name the Milky-Way."
"The bird of Jove shall toil no more
To teach that humble wren to soar."
"Nor let my votaries show their skill
By aping lines from Cooper's Hill;
For know, I can not bear to hear
The mimicry of 'deep, yet clear.'
In general we may say of the similitudes of this period that
in no other literary form was nature so widely used, and in no
other form with so little beauty and spirit; that they were based
on an insufficient and inexact knowledge of nature; and that they
were used without any sympathetic sense of inner fitness.
A furthe
Artificial sub-
ordination of
nature to man
characteristic of the use of nature in the classical
period is a personification of natural objects with
the ulterior purpose of making them conscious of
the charms or emotions of some person. When
such personification arises out of an intimate iden-
tification of man with nature, a subjective recognition of the
'Ambrose Philips: Epistle to a Friend.
+
1
NATURE IN ENGLISH CLASSICAL POETRY
33
unity of all existence, or when it is the outgrowth of a supreme
passion compelling the phenomena of nature into apparent sym-
pathy with its own joy or grief, the expression is sure to bear the
mark of inner conviction or strong emotion. But when the per-
sonification is manifestly a laborious artistic device, when it is
based on neither belief nor passion, it must then be considered
the mark of an age slightly touched by real feeling for nature.
And such, in general, were the personifications so freely used in
the English classical poetry. There is an artificiality, even a
grotesqueness about some of them that forbids even temporary
poetic credence on the part of the reader. A good example is
in Waller's At Pens-hurst where the susceptible deer and beeches
and clouds mourn with Waller over the cruelty of his stony-
hearted Sacharissa. At the death of any illustrious man or fair
lady all nature was convulsed with grief. When Calestia died
the rivulets were flooded by the tears of the water-gods, the brows
of the hills were furrowed by new streams, the heavens wept, sud-
den damps overspread the plains, the lily hung its head, and
birds drooped their wings. When Amaryllis had informed nature
of the death of Amyntas all creation "began to roar and howl
with horrid yell."2 When Thomas Gunston died just before he
had finished his seat at Newington, Watts declared that the curl-
ing vines would in grief untwine their amorous arms, the stately
elms would drop leaves for tears, and that even the unfinished
gates and buildings would weep.3 In love-poetry nature is fre-
quently represented as abashed and discomfited before the supe-
rior charms of some fair nymph. Aurora blushes when she sees
cheeks more beauteous than her own. Lilies wax pale with envy
at a maiden's fairness. When bright Ophelia comes lilies droop
elia.
I
4
¹ Congreve: The Mourning Muse of Alexis, 1. 89. Cf. also Fenton: Flor-
2 Congreve: The Tears of Amaryllis for Amyntas, l. 143.
3 Watts: A Funeral Poem on Thomas Gunston, 1. 252, and 1. 308.
Compare the indifference of nature to the death of Lucy whose body is
"Rolled round in earth's diurnal course
With rocks, and stones and trees."
Wordsworth: Lucy.
4 Cowley: Constantia and Philetus, st. 5 and st. 10.
•
i
34
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
and roses die before their lofty rival. So the sun, when he sees
the beautiful ladies in Hyde Park,
"Sets in blushes and conveys his fires
To distant lands."
12
And when that modest luminary is aware of the presence of the
fair Maria he
"Seems to descend with greater care;
And, lest she see him go to bed,
In blushing clouds conceales his head."3
Nature is thus constantly compelled into admiring submission to
some Delia or Phyllis or Chloris. Even further than this do the
poets go. They make all the beauty of nature a direct outcome
of the lady's charms. In the gardens at Pens-hurst the peace and
glory of the alleys was given by Dorothea's more than human
grace. No spot could resist the civilizing effect of her beauty..
The most charming example of this sort of fanciful exaggeration
is in Marvell's verses on Maria and the Nunappleton gardens.
4
“’Tis she, that to these gardens gave
That wondrous beauty which they have;
She straightness on the woods bestows;
To her the meadow sweetness owes;
Nothing could make the river be
So crystal pure, but only she,
She yet more pure, and straight, and fair
Than gardens, woods, meads, rivers, are.”5
If later examples of the subordination of nature to man were
so graceful and quaintly tender as this poem of Marvell's we might
simply regard them as permissible instances of pathetic fallacy.
But even taken at its best we cannot fail to see that this concep-
tion of nature in its relation to man is quite unlike the dominant
'Shenstone: Roxana. For an interesting variation of this theme see
Cowley: The Spring.
2 Hughes: Cupid's Review, l. 17.
3 Marvell: Upon Appleton House, 1. 661.
4 Waller: At Pens-hurst.
5 Marvell: Upon Appleton House, 1. 689.
NATURE IN ENGLISH CLASSICAL POETRY
35
I
conception in the romantic school. In the one case we have
the subordination of nature; in the other the ministry of nature.
A significant comparison might be made between Marvell's
Maria, and Wordsworth's Lucy. The one is the typical fair
maiden ruling over her flower world and inspiring to beautiful
life all the gentle nature forms about her. The other is
"Nature's Lady." Her whole being is moulded by her sus-
ceptibility to the deeper influences of nature untouched by art.
Maria gives to the external world the charm that it has. Lucy
is graced by the spirit of nature with all lovely qualities. But
Marvell's poem is really no fair criterion of the use of nature
in the classical love and elegiac poetry, for in most of that poetry
the emotion, the passion, that would justify extravagant or even
impossible conceptions is conspicuously absent. The extrava-
gance of speech stood as the sign of an intensity of feeling that
did not exist. The poet was not swept away by overwhelming
passion. He worked out his verses with conscious delibera-
tion. A lady-love was one of the necessary poetical stage prop-
erties, so the poet cast about him for a Phyllis or an Amoret,
and then cast about him for something to say to her. Such
lines as Waller's on Dorothea, who is so much admired by the
plants that
"If she sit down, with tops all tow'rds her bow'd,
They round about her into arbours crowd:
Or if she walks, in even ranks they stand,
Like some well-marshal'd and obsequious band” 2
are at once felt to be merely cold, tasteless hyperbole. The
lines do not win a second's suspension of disbelief. Modes
of speech, a conception of nature, such that high-wrought emo-
tion might justify it, or that might be natural and inevitable
when the poet's thought was ruled by a living mythology,
became mere frigid conventionalities when there was no passion,
and when the spirits of stream and wood no longer won even
poetic faith.
1 Wordsworth: Lucy.
2 Waller: At Pens-hurst.
1
1
i.
:
A
36
TREATMENT OF NATURe in engliSH POETRY
To speak of the poetic diction of the classical poetry has
become a commonplace of criticism. By universal consent certain
words and phrases seem to have been stamped as
Poetic diction
reputable, national, and present, and to have formed
the authorized storehouse of poetical supplies. If one writer hit
out a good word or phrase, it became common property like air
or sunshine, and other writers did not waste their time beating
the bush for a different form of words. Frequently words in the
accepted diction may be traced to some Latin author, but the
point to be noted here is that, whatever the origin of the word,
its use is incessant. The fatal grip with which certain words
clung to the poetical mind in the classical period receives inter-
esting exemplification from a comparison of Chapman's and
Pope's translations of Homer. It will be observed that in frequent
passages Pope uses the words "purple," " deck," "adorn," and
"paint," chief words in the classical poetic diction. But in the
corresponding passages in Chapman some other form of words
is used. And in most cases Pope's use of these terms has no
warrant in the original. Likewise, in Dryden's translation of
Virgil the stock diction is used when there is no idea or picture
in the Latin to call for it, and when the use of the stock phrase-
ology results in distinct loss of force or beauty. Compare for
instance, Virgil's vivid flavescet and Dryden's tame "the fields
adorn,
"I used with reference to harvests of ripened grain. Or
compare novis rubeant quam prata coloribus and "painted meads ;"
noctem ducentibus astris, and "stars adorn the skies." 3 We find
the same spirit illustrated in Dryden's modernization of Chaucer.
The fresh, spontaneous simplicity of a poet like Chaucer serves
exceptionally well to show the comparatively insipid and feeble
treatment of nature on the part of those poets who were content
to take their expressions, as well as their facts, at second hand.
"The briddes" becomes "the painted birds;" "a goldfinch" is
amplified into “a goldfinch with gaudy pride of painted plumes."
At the sun upriste " becomes
2
'Virgil: Eclogue IV, 1. 28.
Virgil Georgics 4: 306.
3 Virgil: Georgics 3:156.
Dryden: Pastoral IV, 1. 33.
Dryden: Georgics 4: 433.
Dryden : Georgics 3:250.
112
i
NATURE IN ENGLISH CLASSICAL POETRY
37
"Aurora had but newly chased the night
And purpled o'er the sky with blushing light.""
The same point is well exemplified in some of the changes made
by Percy in the Ballads. For instance,
"As itt befell in Midsummer time
When burds singe sweetlye on every tree"
was modernized to,
'When Flora with her fragrant flowers
Bedeckt the earth so trim and gaye,
And Neptune with his daintye showers
Came to present the monthe of Maye." 2
Full illustration would require much more space than is here
at command, but the point to be made is clear, namely, that even
when the poet had his natural facts furnished for him, he instinc-
tively put them into the moulds of an accepted poetic diction.
By all odds the most frequent and significant words in this
stock poetic diction, so far as it has to do with the presentation
of nature, are indicative of dress or adornment in some form.
The word "paint" is everywhere. Snakes and lizards and birds;
morning and evening; gardens, meadows, and fields; prospects,
scenes, and landscapes; hills and valleys; clouds and skies; sun-
beams and rainbows; rivers and waves; and flowers from tulips
to white lilies—nothing escapes. It is little wonder that Somer-
ville called God "the Almighty Painter."3 The word "paint'
is really an Elizabethan survival, and as such came into the pos-
session of Cowley whose use of it is absolutely vicious. A rain-
bow is "painted tears." The wings of birds are "painted oars.'
David after the fight with the giant is "painted gay with blood,"
and the blood of the Egyptians lost in the Red Sea "new paints
the waters' name." "Gaudy" is another word of frequent
In general the meaning was as now," ostentatiously
occurrence.
I
¹ Dryden: Works 12:5; 11: 221.
2 Percy: Reliques 2: 190.
3 Somerville: To Anne Coventry, l. 25.
* Cowley: The Shortness of Life, st. 11; The Muse; Davideis, 2: 29; The
Plagues of Egypt, st. 17.
.
38
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
4
I
fine" as we see in Shakespeare's phrase "rich but not gaudy,"
and in Dryden's "gaudy pride of painted plumes." In that
sense it was fitly applied to peacocks, and perhaps even to rain-
bows, but such phrases as "a gaudy fly," the "gaudy plumage"*
of falcons; the "gaudy axles of the fixed stars," the "gaudy
month" of May, the "gaudy opening dawn," the "gaudy milky
soil" and the "gaudy Tagus" seem to have no exact meaning.
“Bright” might often serve as a synonym, but not in the appli-
cation of the word to flies and falcons. The word "adorn" is
likewise eminently serviceable. Fruit adorns the trees, fleecy
flocks adorn the hills, flowers adorn the green, rainbows adorn
clouds, blades of grass adorn fields, vegetables adorn gardens,
Phœbus adorns the west and is himself adorned with all his light,
and Emma's eyes adorn the fields she looks on. "Deck" is
another favorite. Flora's rich gifts deck the field, herbs deck
the spring, and corals deck the deep. Vales, meadows, fields,
mountains, rivers, shores, plains, paths, turf, gardens-all are
profusely "damasked" or "enamell'd" or "embroider'd." The
wings of butterflies and linnets are "gilded." The rising sun
gilds the morn; the gaudy bow gilds the sky; gaudy light gilds
the heavens; lightning gilds the storm; meteors and stars gild
the night; and a Duchess gilds the rural sphere when she con-
descends to visit the country.
These milliner-like words were not, however, the only ones
that the poet could claim as lawful heritage. He knew, for
instance, that he could always call honey "a dewy harvest," or
"balmy dew," or "ambrosial spoils," and have his hearers know
what he meant. His birds, though almost necessarily a “choir "
could be "feathered" or "tuneful" or "plumy" or "warbling"
according to his taste. His fish were easily labeled as "finny,"
I Blackmore: Creation, 6: 170; 5: 101; Yalden: The Insect.
2 Somerville: Field Sports, l. 161.
3 Pitt: Earl Stanhope; Psalm 144.
4 Tickell: Kensington Garden; Somerville: Rural Games, I: 94.
5 Dyer: Gronger Hill, 1. 65.
"Dryden Works, Vol. VI, 228.
7 Cowley: Ode 2.
✔
NATURE IN ENGLISH CLASSICAL POETRY
39
scaly," or "watery." Breezes were "whispering," "balmy,"
"ambrosial"; zephyrs were" gentle," "soft," and "bland"; gales
were "odoriferous," "wanton," "Elysian"; and no other kinds
of winds blew except in storm similes. "Vernal" and " ver-
dant" come in at every turn. From Waller on the epithet
"watery" seems eminently satisfactory to the poetic mind.
Dryden may be taken as illustrative. To him the ocean is a
watery desert," a "watery deep," a "watery plain," a watery
way,” a “watery reign." The shore is a
watery brink," or a
“watery strand.” Fish are a
watery line" or a watery race."
Sea-birds are "watery fowl."
watery war."
Streams
(6
66
watery ranks.
are
(6
((
The launching of ships is a
"watery floods." Waves are
((
The word occurs with wearisome iteration in
succeeding poets. It is applied not only to the sea, but to rivers
clouds, and rain, to glades, meads, and flowers, to landscapes, to
mists, to the sky, to the sun, and to the rainbow. The set
phrases for the sky are such as "azure sky," "heaven's azure,"
“concave azure,” “ azure vault," azure waste," "blue sky,"
"blue arch," "blue expanse," "blue vault," "blue vacant,"
"blue serene," "aërial concave," "ætherial vault,
¸”“ aërial vault,"
"vaulted sky," ” “vaulted azure," with such other changes as may
be rung on these words. The chief words applied to stars,
"spangle" and "twinkle," have been already noted. The usual
adjectives for streams and brooks are pleasant, easy words like
"liquid," "lucid," "limpid," "purling," "murmuring," and
"bubbling." "Rural," "rustic" and "sylvan'
rustic" and "sylvan" are epithets
applied to anything belonging to the country, whether to the
hours spent there, the songs of the birds, the charming country-
maidens and their loves, their bowers, their bliss, their toil.
"Flowery" is so constantly used as descriptive of brooks, bor-
ders, banks, vales, hills, paths, plains, and meads, that it really
has not much more meaning than the definite article prefixed to
'Many of these words occur in the translations by Dryden but in none of
the instances quoted is there any justification in the Latin phrase for the adjec-
tive "watery." For instance, watery way"=spumantibus undis; "watery
reign"=altum; "watery deep" pelago, and so on through the list."
2 See p. 19.
t
40
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
}
a noun.
(
"Vocal" is applied to vales, shades, hills, shores, moun-
tains, grots, and woodlands. "Pendent" and "hanging" belong
to cliffs, precipices, mountains, shades, and woods. Headlong"
and "umbrageous" are favorite adjectives for groves or shades
of any sort. "Mossy" applies to grottos, fountains, streams,
caves, turf, banks, and so on. "Gray" is the usual descriptive
"Lawns" are
word for twilight, and "brown" for night.
usually "dewy."
Some words in this poetic diction are no longer much used.
"Breathing," is an example. It usually referred to the air in
gentle motion, as “breathing gales," but we also find "breath-
ing earth," referring to mists, and "breathing sweets," and
"breathing flowers" or "breathing roses," where the reference
The
is to perfume. "Maze" and "mazy" are also much used.
Thames and other streams lead along "mazy trains." The track
of the hare is an "airy maze." Paths meet in narrow mazes
and stars unite in a mazy, complicated dance. Milton's stream
flows with "mazy error." This word "error" is frequently used
in its exact derived meaning. In another place Milton speaks
Blair has a stream
of streams that wander with "serpent error.
that slides along in "grateful errors."" In Falconer the light
strays through the forest with "gay romantic error." In Gay
the fly floats about with "wanton errors."4 Dyer winds along a
mazy path with "error sweet." Armstrong's "error" leads him
through endless labyrinths." Addison's waves roll in "restless
errors,"
"7 and Thomson treads the "maze of autumn with cheer-
ful error."8
"Amusive” is a word applied by Pitt⁹ to the ocean,
Milton, Paradise Lost, 4:239; 7:302.
2 Blair: The Grave.
3 Falconer: The Shipwreck, 1:359.
4 Gay: Rural Sports, 1:226.
5 Dyer: Ruins of Rome, 1. 86.
"Armstrong: Art of Preserving Health, 2:7.
7 Addison: To the King, 1. 115.
8 Thomson: Autumn, 626; cf. also Summer, l. 1574; Autumn, 1. 628.
9 Pitt: Ode to John Pitt, st. 5; Mallet: Amyntor and Theodora, 1:153;
Shenstone: To a Lady; Rural Elegance, st. 17.
i
NATURE IN ENGLISH CLASSICAL POETRY
4 I
and by Mallet to clouds; Shenstone says that country joys "amuse
securely." It seems to be half apologetic in tone in some cases ;
in others it merely means pleasing. Thomson used the word
as verb or adjective several times. We also find it in Parnell.2
Another word of unusual application is "towering." When
used of the Alps it is easily understood, but it seems a heavy word
to apply to the flight of hawks, falcons, and eagles, though more
appropriate there than when applied to swans, and larks, and
even to spiders. It probably meant simply "ascending."
"Lawn" is used in the sense of an open glade in the woods.
Even so late as Wordsworth this meaning persists.3 One
unpleasant but not uncommon word is "sweat." It may be a
survival from the metaphysical conceits, for we find in Dr. Donne
a reference to the "sweet sweat of roses," and Cowley has flowery
Hermon "sweat" beneath the dews of night. Dryden has
flowers sweat at night. Fenton's flowers
4
"All pale and blighted lie,
And in cold sweats of sickly mildew die."5
Even Gray talks about the "sickly dews" of night, and
Thomson has caverns "sweat."7 Garth, as a physician, may
possibly be excused for having the "sickening flowers" drink
up the silver dew, and the grass tainted with "sickly sweats of
dew," but when he has the fair oak adorned with "luscious
sweats, "8 he has gone into the realm of æsthetics, and no excuse
can prevail.
The power of fashion in words in a conventional age is fur-
ther shown by the prevalence of adjectives ending in "y." They
are favorites with Dryden, and hold their own steadily through
the century that followed. Beamy, bloomy, forky, branchy, flamy,
¹ See Thomson, p. 87.
2 Parnell: Hymn to Contentment.
3 Wordsworth: Three Years She Grew.
"Dryden: Works, 2:360; 9: 104.
5 Fenton: Florelio, l. 43.
"Gray: Progress of Poetry.
7 Thomson: Autumn, 1. 843.
8 Garth: Dispensary, 2:3; 2:14; 4:260.
42
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
purply, steepy, spumy, surgy, foamy, blady, dampy, chinky,
sweepy, sheltry, moony, paly, tusky, heapy, miny, saggy, and
many more occur where at present there would be no ending or
the ending "ing."
Imitative
character of
English poetry
The
The stock poetic diction may serve also to illustrate the
indebtedness of the English classical poets to their Latin masters
in the matter of phraseology. Compare, for
instance, the use of the word cavus in its applica-
tion to montes, caverna, trunci, saxa, umbra and
flumina, and the English word "hollow," as applied
to caves, rocks, mountains, shores, valleys, and even to the dark.
Or compare the Latin use of horridus, meaning rough, rugged,
wild, with "horrid," in its application to mountains, rocks, and
thickets. "Savage mountains" and "shaggy mountains" sound
like an echo from Virgil's montes feri and intonsi montes.
fundamental conception is certainly the same. Milton's "hairy
thickets" and bushes with "frizzled hair" and Dryden's "hairy
honours of the vine" are suggestive of the Latin use of comae as
a trope for foliage. The word "honours," as applied to foliage
or fruits, is also of Latin origin. The tristis or dura hiems of
Virgil finds its echo in the general epithets applied to winter in
English poetry.
"Deform'd" and "inverted" seem to be mere
Latin transcripts. Dryden was fond of the word "nodding."
He used it twice in translations in places where some other
word would more accurately represent the original.' In its
application to mountains the word may, perhaps, be traced to
Virgil's nutantem mundum. Its further use by Dryden, Pope,
Akenside, Shenstone, and others, with reference to forests,
rocks, and precipices, is apparently a later outgrowth from
its application to mountains. "Sylvan Muse" and silvestris
musa; "flowery plains" and florea rura; "liquid fountains"
and liquidi fontes; "mossy springs" and muscosi fontes are
'Virgil: Georgics, 1:329, quo maxuma motu Terra tremit; Dryden:
Georgics, 1:430, the mountains nod and earth's entrails tremble; Virgil: Pas-
toral 6, rigidas motare cacumina quercus; Dryden: Pastoral 6, nodding
forests to the numbers danced; Cf. Pope: Messiah, nodding forests on the
mountain dance, and Milton: Comus, 1. 38, nodding horror of the wood.
$
¿
NATURE IN ENGLISH CLASSICAL POETRY
43
1
but a few of the many exact parallels between the English
and Latin phrases descriptive of scenery. So, too, the super-
ficial conception of the various beauties of nature as "adorn-
ments" of the earth finds its prototype in such expressions as
lucidum caeli decus, applied to the moon, or pulla ficus, ornat
arborem, or vitis ut arboribus decori est, ut vitibus uvae. An
instructive example of the way in which borrowed epithets
lose their significance and become merely conventional is
the word "painted" in its application to birds. In Virgil
pictaeque volucrae¹ meant birds of many colors, or of bright
colors. Milton uses the phrase "painted wings," referring
apparently to brilliant birds in the Garden of Eden. But by
Pope's time the word "painted" had become a stock epithet
with its connotation so vaguely widened that it would be difficult
to give its exact meaning. It was simply indefinitely associated
with birds, hence Pope applied it to the brown wings of a
pheasant.³ Shenstone uses it of the wings of a fly, and Parnell
applies it to the eye of a peacock, and Waller to the peacock's
nest. In the same way "painted," in its application to flowers,
might easily be a picturesque descriptive adjective for bright
blossoms of any sort, but being gradually more and more closely
associated with flowers, it would lose its first meaning and come
to be applied to white lilies as well as tulips. "Purple" is
another borrowed word. It brought with it its whole train of
Latin meanings. In ordinary English speech "purple" had a
fairly definite reference to a specific color composed of red and
blue, but in the English classical poetry it was used in exactly
the Latin sense. The fundamental idea of purpureus was color,
but a secondary meaning was brightness; in its twofold applica-
tion it was a descriptive epithet applicable to light,' to flowers in
'Virgil: Georgics, 3:243. Æneid, 4:525.
6
2 Milton: Paradise Lost, 7:434.
5
4
3 Pope: Windsor Forest, 1. 118. Cf. Note in Courthope edition.
4 Shenstone : Virtuoso.
5 Parnell: Anacreontic.
"Waller: On a Brede of Divers Colors.
7 Hugo Blümner: Die Farbenbezeichnungen bei den Römischen Dichtern,
!
44
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
.
general, to roses, spring, or morning. The English phrases,
"morning's purple wings," "the purple day," "the purple east,"
"the purpled air," "ground empurpled with roses," "the purple
spring," "purple daffodils," are such as would serve the purpose
of a modern impressionist painter, but in eighteenth century
poetry they chiefly indicate a knowledge of the classics. They
were clearly imitative phrases.
In individual cases the charge of imitation is a hazardous one
to make because so difficult to prove. However close the paral-
lelism it is always possible to believe that two persons thought of
the same thing independently. Where a whole literary period is
under consideration as here, all that can be said is that the simi-
larities between the English and the Latin forms of expression are
numerous and striking, that the phrases are frequently such as
would not naturally occur to an English poet, that the English
poets had little first-hand knowledge of nature, and that they
knew their Virgil and Horace by heart. But after all, the inner
conviction of imitation with which one turns from a consecutive
reading of the two literatures is a more legitimate proof, perhaps,
than even a liberal assemblage of debatable specific cases.
The imitation is not confined to diction. Many of the favor-
ite similes, especially those drawn from trees, bees, leaves in
autumn, the oak and vine, angry seas, and streams, have a Latin
cast. They seem to be worked out on Virgilian models.
As one
reads, it is impossible not to feel that the English poet owed
more to his classical library than to his knowledge of nature.
One striking mark of imitation is the prevalence of the artificial
cumulative simile so common in Virgil.
The details in the Latin pastoral poetry are also freely trans-
ferred to descriptions of English scenes. The poet could not
describe English meadows without a desire to transplant therein
some fairer blooms from "the unenvious fields of Greece and
pp. 184-198. Blümner shows that Toppupeos was used by the Greeks with widely
varying meanings, and adds, "Ganz ähnlich ist der Gebrauch, den die römischen
Dichter von purpureus machen nur zweilfellos in viel weniger ursprünglicher
Weise." He says further that the Latin poetical use of purpureus did not
follow the speech of daily life.
NATURE IN ENGLISH CLASSICAL POETRY
45
Rome." English rivers, skies, seas, plains, hills, and valleys
were presided over by classic deities. Ceres, Pomona, and Bac-
chus, Dryads and Naiads, were as omnipotent as if they were still
believed in. The hardy English shepherd was transformed into.
a languid swain eternally seeking mossy caves as a refuge against
burning heats. His chief occupation was to lie beside-some mur-
muring rill, or beneath some spreading beech, or under some
myrtle hedge, and charm the listening vale with love ditties
played on his pipe: or, for variety, to enter into some amoebean
contest with a neighboring swain concerning the rival beauty of
their respective nymphs. His chief troubles were the coyness,
fickleness, and desertion of this same much-praised Phyllis or
Chloris,' and the occasional incursion of nightly predatory wolves
among his fleecy flocks. And all this calmly in the face of the
fact that there were no predatory animals in English forests, that
the chief enemies of the English shepherd were cold and storm,
and that he would be much more likely to seek a sunny bank
than a cooling grot. The classical English poets not only knew
nothing of the genuine English shepherd such as Wordsworth's
Michael, but they did not wish to know of him. It was their ambi-
tion to follow in the path marked out by the Mantuan swain. If
they could write so that every line would "confess Virgil" they
This constant use of Latin and Greek names for English peasants was
frequently satirized. Dryden makes Limberham say to Brainsick,
"But why, of all names, would you choose a Phyllis? There have been so
many Phyllises in song I thought there was not another to be had for love
or money."-Works, Vol. 6, p. 62.
Cf. Watts: Meditation in a Grove.
"No Phyllis shall infect the air
With her unhallow'd name."
*Compare Ridley's characteristic commendation of Christopher Pitt's poems,
"In every line, in
every word
you speak
I read the Roman and confess the Greek,"
and Pitt's precept in Vida's Art of Poetry, 1:102,
"Explore the antients with a watchful eye,
Lay all their charms and elegancies by,
Then to their use the precious spoils apply."
?
:
46
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
were satisfied. Pope said that it was the poet's office to repre-
sent shepherds not as they are but as they may be conceived to
have been in some past golden age. That golden age existed
apparently in the Italy of Virgil and the Greece of Theocritus.
Dryden gave the acceptable advice,
"For guides take Virgil and read Theocrite.
By them alone you'll easily comprehend
How poets, without shame, may condescend
To sing of gardens, fields, of flowers, and fruit,
To stir up shepherds, and to tune the flute."2
Except in burlesque no poet of that day cared to change
“Strephon and Phyllis" into "Tom and Bess." The great effort
was to dignify humble themes by constant reference to the great
poems of the past.
The general structure of many English poems was evidently
conformed to Latin models. A comparison of the Pastorals of
Pope, Gay, and Ambrose Philips would sufficiently establish this
point.3
Throughout the classical poetry of nature there is little reli-
ance on first-hand observation. There was safety and dignity in
following Dick Minim's advice, "When you sit down to write
think what your favorite author would say under such and such
circumstances," and the favorite authors were sure to be Virgil,
and Horace, and Ovid.
The imitations were not, however, exclusively from the Latin
authors. Often the Latin borrowings came at second-hand from
other English poets, and English poets borrowed freely from
each other. A single instance may be cited to show how an
insipid and almost unmeaning collocation of words could hold
its own and be re-echoed from poet to poet. Addison's couplet,
My humble verse demands a softer theme,
A painted meadow, or a purling stream," 4
¹ Pope: Discourse on Pastoral Poetry.
2 Dryden: Works, 15:231.
3 Compare especially Gay's Monday, Pope's Spring, and Virgil's Third
Eclogue. Also Gay's Thursday and Virgil's Eighth Eclogue.
* Addison: Letter from Italy (1701).
NATURE IN ENGLISH CLASSICAL POETRY
47
1.
was imitated by Tickell in,
"By Nature fitted for an humble theme
A painted prospect, or a murmuring stream,
and twice by Pope in,
and
"Enough to shame the gentlest bard that sings
Of painted meadows and of purling springs,'
Like gentle Fanny's was my flowery theme,
A painted mistress or a purling stream.'
Compare also,
112
"Most of our poets choose their early theme
A flowery meadow or a purling stream."4
But one other sort of imitation can be noticed here, and that
is a natural outcome from the use of the rhymed couplet. It is
what Pope calls "the sure return of still expected rhymes." The
common rhyme of "stream" and "theme" has already been
noted. Pope calls attention to others:
"Whene'er you find the 'cooling western breeze '
In the next line it 'whispers through the trees.'
If crystal streams 'with pleasing murmurs creep '
The reader's threatened, not in vain, with 'sleep.' "5
The last reference is an ungracious hit at one of Wycherley's
poems recommendatory of Pope's Pastorals, but the rhyme of
"breeze" and "trees" is certainly of a bewildering, dizzying
frequency. There is a stanza in point in one of the doubtful
poems attributed to Gray.
'First when Pastorals I read,
Purling streams and cooling breezes
I Tickell: Oxford (1707).
2 Pope: January and May, l. 454-
3 Pope: Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot, l. 149.
4 William Thompson: To the Author of Leonidas.
5 Pope: Essay on Criticism, I : 350.
نه
*
I
48
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
I only wrote of; and my head
Rhimed on, reclined beneath the Tree-zes."
"' I
One cause of the artificial and forced effect of the classical
poetry of nature is undoubtedly the sameness of impression pro-
ducted by this frequent recurrence of the same rhymes.
Man the
supreme inter-
est of the age
interest.
In the foregoing study of the attitude of the classical poets.
towards nature certain dominant characteristics have beeen indi-
cated, all of them pointing to a lack of interest in
nature. The attention of the age was concentrated
elsewhere. Not nature, but man was the supreme
And the limitations must be drawn even
more closely for the interest was not in man as man according to
the democratic spirit of the succeeding romantic age, nor in man
as a creature of daring, of wild passions, of lawless enthusiasms,
of boundless energies, as in the preceding Elizabethan age, but
man as part of a well-organized social system. Man in London
was the central thought of the age. This supremacy of the inter-
est in man accounts for the acknowledged preference for city life.
In the country bad roads and poor conveyances effectually
separated men from each other. In the city the wits of the coffee-
house and the beaux and belles of the drawing-room were able
to gain the social converse and mutual admiration necessary to
their happiness. What they had to say to each other was incom-
parably more interesting than any revelation from nature's soli-
tary places. Men feared and disliked mountains and the sea
because these natural features stood as obstacles to the easy pursuit
of many pleasures, and because in the presence of forces so vast
and elemental men felt themselves overawed and threatened.
What they could not understand and conquer was their foe.
They turned uneasily from all forms of nature that suggest
mysterious, unseen forces over which man has no control. The
limitless spaces of the sky, the "solemn midnight's tingling silent-
ness," the magical charm of moonlight, whatever is infinite in its
suggestiveness, drawing the spirit of man into the vast, shadowy
realms of the unknown, filled them with dismay.
In nature as
'Gray: Ode.
1
1
NATURE IN ENGLISH CLASSICAL POETRY
49
с
in everything else they instinctively confined themselves to such
portions of truth as they could clearly state and use. The kind
of nature they loved was that in which man was easily supreme.
Their delight in cultivated rural England was largely based on its
power of ministering to man's ease and physical well-being.'
Their delight in the formal garden grew out of their pleasure in
seeing the triumphal expenditure of human effort. There nature
¹ In this connection see the following passages from Ruskin, Humboldt,
and Veitch on nature in the poetry of the ancients :
“Thus, as far as I recollect, without a single exception, every Homeric
landscape, intended to be beautiful, is composed of a fountain, a meadow, and
a shady grove. This ideal is very interestingly marked, as intended for a
perfect one, in the fifth book of the Odyssey; when Mercury himself stops for
a moment, though on a message, to look on a landscape 'which even an immor-
tal might be gladdened to behold'. . . . Now the notable things in this
description are, first, the evident subservience of the whole landscape to human
comfort, to the foot, the taste, or the smell; and, secondly, that throughout the
passage there is not a single figurative word expressive of the things being in
any wise other than plain grass, fruit or flower. If we glance through the
references to pleasant landscape which occur in other parts of the Odyssey, we
shall always be struck by this quiet subjection of their every feature to human
service, and by the excessive similarity in the scenes. Perhaps the spot
intended, after this, to be most perfect, may be the garden of Alcinous, where
the principal ideas are, still more definitely, order, symmetry, and fruitfulness.
-Ruskin: Modern Painters, Chapter on "Classical Landscape."
•
"Homer looks on nature as it affects man— its power of sustaining life, its
subserviency to our physical wants. Hence the side of nature which is lovingly
regarded by him is not mountain, or rock, or wild sea - all fruitless and barren
-but flat soft meadow-land, diversified, it may be, with tree and fountain,
filled with waving grass-good pasture-land for nourishing the useful ox, or
cow, or sheep." "In Theocritus . . . we do not go beyond the softer side
the accessories of the shepherd's life faithfully noted." "The aspect of
nature which Virgil loved was the soft and pastoral side of Italian scenery. In
so far as he has depicted free nature, it is seen almost wholly from the human
side, and in its relation to man's works, life and action."-Veitch: The Feeling
for Nature in Scottish Poetry, Vol. I, pp. 88–91.
"Es is oftmals ausgesprochen worden, dass die Freude an der Natur, wenn
auch dem Alterthume nicht fremd, doch in ihm als Ausdruck des Gefühls spar-
samer und minder lebhaft gewesen sei denn in der neueren Zeit. . . . In dem
hellenischen Alterthum, . . . das eigentlich Naturbeschreibende zeigt sich
dann nur als ein Beiwerk, weil in der griechischen Kunstbildung sich alles
gleichsam im Kreise der Menscheit bewegt.
50
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
was "rhymed and twisted and harmonized" at pleasure. Man's
supremacy was nowhere else more effectually acknowledged.
Not art concealed but art manifest was the ideal. Evelyn's
enjoyment of French and Italian gardens is almost always
based on his pleasure in some mechanical device whereby man
had conquered nature.¹ What Cowley most enjoyed in the
country was the sense of his own skill and mastery. The "best
natured" satisfaction of all is, he says, the husbandman's delight
in "looking round about him and seeing nothing but the effects
and improvements of his own art." The supremacy of the interest
in man is further explanatory of the facts already sufficiently com-
mented upon that the most abundant use of nature was in simil-
'Beschreibung der Natur in ihrer gestaltenreichen Mannigfaltigkeit, Natur-
dichtung als ein abgesonderter Zweig der Litteratur, war den Griechen völlig
fremd. Auch die Landschaft erscheint bei ihnen nur als Hintergrund eines
Gemäldes, vor dem menschliche Gestalten sich bewegen. Leidenschaften in
Thaten ausbrechend fesselten fast allein den Sinn. Ein bewegtes öffentliches
Volksleben zog ab von der dumpfen, schwärmerischen Versenkung in das stille
Treiben der Natur; ja den physischen Erscheinungen wurde immer eine
Beziehung auf die Menschheit beigelegt, sei es in den Verhältnissen der
äusseren Gestaltung oder der inneren anregenden Thatkraft. Fast nur solche
Beziehungen machten die Naturbetrachung würdig, unter der sinnigen Form
des Gleichnisses, als abegesonderte kleine Gemälde voll objectiver Lebendigkeit
in das Gebiet der Dichtung gezogen zu werden."-Kosmos. Vol. 2, pp. 5, 6.
I In this connection compare the following significant passage from Taine:
"Rien ne m'a plus intéressé dans les villas romaines que leurs anciens maîtres.
Les naturalistes le savent, on comprend très-bien l'animal d'aprés la coquille.
L'endroit où j'ai commencé à le comprendre est la villa Albani.
Cette
villa est un débris, comme le squellette fossile d'une vie qui a duré deux siècles,
et dont le principal plaisir consistait dans la conversation, dans la belle reprèsen-
tation, dans les habitudes de salon, et d'antichambre. L'homme ne s'intéressait
pas aux objets inanimés, il ne leur reconnaissait pas une âme et une beauté propre;
ils ne servaient que de fond au tableau, fond vague et d'importance moins qu'
accessoire. Toute l'attention était occupée par le tableau lui-même, c'est-à-
dire par l'intrigue et le drame humain. Pour reporter quelque partie de cette
attention sur les arbres, les eaux, le paysage, il fallait les humaniser, leur ôter,
leur form et leur disposition naturelle, leur air 'sauvage,' l'apparance du
désordre et du désert, leur donner autant que possible l'aspect d'un salon, d'un
galerie à colonnades, d'une grande cour de palais."-Taine: Voyage en Itálie,
Tome 1, pp. 231, 232. (Paris.
(Paris. Librairie Hatchette et Cie, 1893.)
2 Cowley: Of Agriculture.
NATURE IN ENGLISH CLASSICAL POETRY
51
itudes for human qualities and passions, that these similitudes
were drawn from a surprisingly small number of natural phe-
nomena, and that the nature side of the similitudes was often
carelessly and ignorantly handled. The dominance of man is also
back of the conception of nature as stirred by man's joys and
woes, and plunged into despair by his death. Nature is, at
the utmost, but the comparatively unimportant background against
which man acts his part, and there is seldom any effort to suit
the background to the picture. There is likewise significance in
the twofold fact that in the set poetic diction there are many
words and phrases relating to nature and comparatively few relat-
ing to man. Where there was a concentration of interest the
vividness of the conception demanded new and original forms of
speech, while the stock diction, like cant in religious expression,
showed the absence of genuine feeling. It is in Pope's Pastor-
als not in The Dunciad that we find stock words, conventional
phrases, and hereditary similes.
In summary we may note that the characteristic attitude
Summary towards nature in the classical period is marked by,
a. Prevailing dislike or neglect of the grand or the terrible in
nature as mountains, the ocean, storms, and winter
b. A similar dislike or neglect of the mysterious or the remote,
as the various phenomena of the sky.
c. A certain apparent friendliness towards the gentle, pleasant,
serviceable forms of nature as in rural cultivated England, in
spring and summer, in good weather, in various forms of
horticulture.
d. An especial pleasure in nature ordered and made symmetrical
by art, as in formal gardens and parks.
e. Descriptions of a highly generalized sort with almost no
touches of local color.
f. Full but conventional and superficial use of nature in simili-
tudes for human passions and actions.
g. Narrow, uninterested, and hence frequently inaccurate observa-
tion of natural facts.
X
t
i
*
4
..
52
+
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
¿
h. Cold and lifeless imitation of the forms and details without
the spirit of Latin models.
i. A vocabulary restricted and imitative in character.
i. An underlying conception of nature as entirely apart from
man, and to be reckoned with merely as his servant or his
foe.
i
:
CHAPTER II.
•
INDICATIONS OF A NEW ATTITUDE TOWARDS NATURE IN THE
POETRY OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.
In this chapter the method of work is quite unlike that in the
preceding study. The typical and the dominant are not regarded.
Attention is rather converged upon the significant exception.
We are led into nooks and corners and byways. The most famous
author is not necessarily the one on whom emphasis is placed. In
searching for legitimate proof of a tendency we may safely turn to
the work of men of unoriginal genius and moderate power.' A
study of this sort would certainly give a distorted view if it were
for a moment thought to represent the period as a whole. But
if it is held in mind that the attitude towards nature was in general
through the eighteenth century marked by indifference and arti-
ficiality, we may throw as high lights as we please on the excep-
·tions. This study will serve its purpose if, in its following out
of the complexities and inconsistencies that make a transition
period interesting, it shall succeed in showing that, along with
the classical feeling towards nature, there was also a real and
vital love for the out-door world, and that this new attitude
towards nature is marked by first-hand observation, by artistic
sensitiveness to beauty, by personal enthusiasm for nature, by a
recognition of the effect of nature on man, and, occasionally,
by an imaginative conception of nature somewhat in the Words-
worthian sense.
The poets
between 1706
and 1726
The new attitude towards nature, of which Thomson is the
first adequate exponent, finds occasional and not
ineffective expression during the two decades before
the publication of Winter in 1726. In the works
of John Philips, Ambrose Philips, Lady Winchelsea,
John Gay, Thomas Parnell, Samuel Croxall, William Pattison,
¹ See Gosse: Seventeenth Century Studies. Introduction.
53
५
D
54
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
John Philips
(1676-1708)
Allan Ramsay, Riccaltoun, and Armstrong, we become more or
less definitely aware of a new outlook on the external world.
Dr. Johnson praised Philips's poem Cyder¹ because it had the
"peculiar merit" of being "grounded in truth."
grounded in truth." On the whole
this poem is of the didactic classical order, but
here and there among the minutely accurate horti-
cultural precepts we come upon indications that
the poet was not insensible to the charms of nature in other than
its utilitarian aspects. His delight in color may be seen from his
specific descriptions of apples. The pippin is "burnish'd o'er
with gold;" the red-streak "with gold irradiate and vermilion
shines." "Plumbs" are "sky-dyed." He notes the "Ore,
Azure, Gules," and the blending of colors in the rainbow. He
observes the contrast between fields yellow with grain, and green
pasture land. And he sees the colored edges of clouds when the
sun breaks through. There is also apparent a sensitiveness to
odors. He speaks of cowslip-posies "faintly sweet," of odorous
herbs, of the fragrance of apples on a dewy autumn morning,
and of "the perfuming flowery bean." Mr. Shairp credits
Thomson with being the first poet to mention the fragrance of
the bean fields, but Philips is at least twenty years ahead of
Thomson in noting this fact.
2
We see further indication of Philips's enjoyment of nature in
a few lines,
"Nor are the hills unamiable, whose tops
To heaven aspire, affording prospect sweet
To human ken,"3
which were perhaps the earliest expression in the eighteenth
century of that pleasure in high hills and wide prospects that was so
marked a characteristic of later poetry. Philips's explanation of
the satisfaction he found in an early morning walk, namely, that
the mind perplexed with irksome thought is calmed by the influ-
ence of nature, seems like a prophecy of the thought afterwards
dominant concerning man's indebtedness to nature.
4
'Cyder, 1:248.
2
3 Cyder, 1:563.
Shairp: The Poetic Interpretation of Nature, p. 199.
4 Cyder: 2:65.
ז
NATURE IN POETRY OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 55
In Ambrose Philips's Pastorals we find a mingling of first-
hand observation and classical imitation. His references to the
ancients, his amoebean contests, the supposed
Ambrose Phil-
effect of the death of Albino on the external world,
ips (1675-1749)
the emphasis on dangers from heat and the nightly
wolf, the frequent use of cumulative comparisons,' and, in gen-
eral, the form of his Pastorals, show how closely he was held by
conventional ideas. Furthermore, his facile use of nature is
always determined by his attitude towards some pastoral nymph
or swain. He rejoices to paint an idyllic background for some
Rosalind. He heaps up images from nature to express the
amorous praises of some Colinet. He has no conception of a
relation between man and nature more intimate than the highly
artificial one of his Pastorals. What is of importance in his
poetry is the fact that in the midst of his imitations and conven-
tionalities are many true and charming observations drawn entirely
from English country life and not found in earlier eighteenth
century poetry. His work is, to be sure, rendered weak and
childish by two unpleasant mannerisms in diction; his use of
adjectives ending in "y," as bloomy, dampy, bluey, steepy,
purply, and so on, and his use of diminutives such as kidlings, lamb-
kins, younglings, firstlings, and steerlings. But on the whole we
find in his poems a more full and accurate knowledge of nature than
is at all common in the poetry of the time. He notes the fleeting,
dusky shadows cast by moving clouds, the glossiness of plums,
the blue color of mists, the sweet odors of morning, the moaning
of the night wind in the grove, the sportive chase of swallows,
the loud note of the cuckoo, the speckled breast of the thrush,
and the song of the backbird "fluting through his yellow bill."
He usually calls flowers, trees, birds, and other animals by their
specific names, and he seldom extends his list beyond his own
probable observation. That Philips had a genuine love for
nature in her milder forms is further seen from the preface to his
Pastorals. "As in Painting," he says, "so in Poetry, the country
affords not only the most delightful scenes and prospects, but
'Pastorals, 1:6; 3:1; 6; 3: 41-44; 3:69-74; 1: 10; 4: 154; 5:8; 1:27;
2:59; 2: 125-128; 3; 65-68; 4:153-160.
:
.
56
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
Lady Winchel-
sea (1660?-1720)
likewise the most pleasing images of life." He loved the songs
of birds because the "sedate and quiet harmony" of their simple
strains gives "a sweet and gentle composure to the mind." And
he was conscious of an "unspeakable sort of satisfaction" when
he saw "a little country-dwelling, advantageously situated amidst
a beautiful variety of hills, meadows, fields, woods and rivulets."
Lady Winchelsea is, in the study of the poetry of nature, one
of the most significant of the minor poets before Thomson. She
was a friend of Rowe and Pope, and was honored
by complimentary verses from them.' She is
known now chiefly because of Wordsworth's refer-
ence to her, and through the poems published in Ward's English
Poets. Three of the poems there given, The Nightingale, The
Tree, A Nocturnal Revery, have to do with nature. With these
exceptions the eighty-one poems in the collection of 1713³ are
thoroughly classical in their form and spirit, though unmarked by
any preponderance of artificial fancies. But these three short
poems are remarkable productions when thought of in connection
with their author's poetical environment. They are the earliest
eighteenth century poems in which nature is frankly chosen as
the theme, and they show a personal knowledge that must have
been the accumulated result of many experiences.
The observation in The Nightingale is especially truthful
and sympathetic. That there is no attempt to describe the bird
is an omission justified by the fact that the nightingale is seldom
seen. 4
The two characteristics noted in the bird's song are its
exceeding sweetness and its sadness, or rather, its sense of pain.5
'Rowe: An Epistle to Flavia; Pope: An Impromptu to Lady Winchelsea.
2 Wordsworth: Essay, Supplementary to the Prefaces.
3 Miscellany Poems on Several Occasions, Written by a Lady. 1713.
4 In the references to the nightingale by Chaucer, Milton, Cowper,
Wordsworth, Keats, Shelley, Matthew Arnold, and Mrs. Browning, the only
approaches to description of the appearance of the bird are Matthew Arnold's
tawny-throated," Keats's "full-throated," and Coleridge's "bright, bright
eyes, their eyes both bright and full.”
Cf. Milton's, "sweetest; saddest plight;" or most musical, most melan-
choly;" and Shelley's, "melodious pain ;" and Keats's, "plaintive anthem;'
and Matthew Arnold's, "Wild, unquenched, deep-sunken, old-world pain."
T
NATURE IN POETRY OF the EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 57
A comparison of the phrases in the notes will show that Lady Win-
chelsea listened with the hearing ear of a true poet. But we cannot
fail to notice as well that the song is not fully heard or reported.
In the other poets we find represented a richness, a fullness, an
ecstasy, a tumult, not even hinted at in Lady Winchelsea's
poem. Nor does she mention the passion most poets have
heard in the song. But however incomplete the impression
received may have been, the poetical record of what was per-
ceived is both truthful and vivid. She seems to write as she
listens and the reader follows the variations of the song through
their effect on her own mind.
In the fifty-two lines of the poem on night twenty-two nat-
ural facts are recorded. Some of these would not escape the
most careless, but only close observation would discover such
details as the sleepy cowslip, the grass standing upright, the
unusual strength of odors, the clearer sound of falling waters,
the horse's audible cropping of the grass, the waving moon seen
in the stream, and the distant call of the curlew. Lady Win-
chelsea's love of nature was of the most unambitious sort. To
have seen the stately tree, to have heard the nightingale, to
know all she did about night, would not have called her beyond
the gates of her own park. But her joy in nature needed no
strong or novel stimulus. It is her distinction that she had
fixed an "exquisite regard" on the commonest facts of the
Coleridge speaks once of "pity-pleading strains," but in another poem con-
tends for the "merry nightingale," and refuses to hear anything but "love and
joyance" in the song.
'Cf. Matthew Arnold's,
"How thick the bursts come crowding through the leaves;"
and Chaucer's "lusty nightingale" whose voice made a "loud rioting;" and
Shelley's "storm of sound;" and Wordsworth's "tumultuous harmony;" and
Keats's "pouring forth thy soul abroad in such an ecstasy;" and Coleridge's
"The merry nightingale
That crowds and hurries and precipitates
With fast thick warble his delicious notes."
""
66
2 Cf. Arnold's "Eternal passion!" Milton's "amorous power; " Shelley's
"voluptuous nightingale; Coleridge's wanton song;" and all of Mrs.
Browning's Bianca Among the Nightingales.
16
58
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
>
1
external world, and that she spoke quite clearly and simply from
her own life. Hence her knowledge had the new quality of
being specific and local and accurately defined.
Still more noteworthy is Lady Winchelsea's spiritual sensi-
tiveness to nature. Such a phrase as "the mysterious face of
heaven" marks a new conception of the sky. Night is no longer
"the parent of fears" but a time whose solemn quiet suggests a .
strange and subtle sense of something too high for syllables to
speak. Nature is to her no mere background for human life.
Man is influenced by nature. His rage is disarmed. His
spirit is led to feel a sedate content. And sometimes in
moments of especial insight there is revealed to him in the
inferior world an existence "like his own." Not often before
Wordsworth is there so distinct a prevision of his way of looking
at nature.¹
John Gay
(1685-1732)
In the slow turning of English poetry from the artificial to
the natural John Gay was distinctly helpful, yet the reader of
Trivia, The Fan, The Epistles, the Fables, and
even the Eclogues would hardly suspect their author
of knowing, in any close way, any life outside the
city. It is only in Rural Sports, written when he was twenty-
eight, and The Shepherd's Week, when he was twenty-nine, that
we find any real study of nature. In Rural Sports hunting and
especially fishing are described with the enthusiasm and technical
accuracy of an expert. There is no hint of the feeling towards ani-
mals that made Thomson and Cowper abhor hunting. There is
simply a thoroughly sportsmanlike knowledge of details, a sense
of pleasurable excitement in the chase, and joy in victory. This
delight in open air pursuits is often far enough removed from
any real love of nature, and is here of much less significance
than casual passages showing Gay's love of the world about
him. He tells us that it was his habit to take morning walks
through the fields, that at sunset he often strayed out to the
cliffs near Barnstaple, and lingered to watch the glowing colors.
of the sunset, and the later beauty of an "unclouded sky"
2
¹ Cf. Gosse: Gossip in a Library, p. 123. Eighteenth Century, p. 35.
2 Rural Sports, 1:35.
<
G
NATURE IN POETRY OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 59
bright with stars and a silver moon that marked a glittering
path along the sea.' This passage is interesting as being the
first poetical record in this period of a walk purely to observe
the beauties of nature. It is also one of the earliest appreciative
mentions of the ocean. Gay's love of nature was largely con-
fined to the milder aspects, but he seems not to have been
entirely indifferent to hills. In speaking of Colton Hill in North
Devonshire he said,
'When its summit I climb, I then seem to be
Just as if I approached nearer heaven!
When with spirits depress'd to this hill I repair
My spirits then instantly rally;
It was near this bless'd spot, I first drew vital air,
So-a hill I prefer to a valley." 2
In six or seven unimportant passages Gay speaks of hills or
mountains, apparently using the words interchangeably, but not
in a manner indicating much knowledge of them. Yet such
little pictures as that of the dawn when the sun "strikes the dis-
tant eastern hills with light," or that of "the evening star shin-
ing above the western hill," show some recognition of hills as
an attractive part of a landscape. Gay has also frequent men-
tion of moonlight and starry skies. He knows flowers and birds
and trees with some definiteness. He speaks of many domestic
animals. He notes colors and odors.3 He observes the length.
ened shadows stretched across the meadows in the late after-
noon, the long flight of crows seeking the wood at sunset, the
streams "wrinkled" by a fresh breeze, the yellow showers of
leaves in autumn. Abundant and varied as is this use of nature,
it is not marked by especial delicacy of feeling or accuracy of
observation. But for all that The Shepherd's Week is a notable
piece of work, and it is in these pastorals that we find Gay's real
service. Whether meant as a friendly aid in Pope's castigation
of Ambrose Philips or not, these poems were unquestionably
• Rural Sports, I :99.
See Life of John Gay in Fables, Warne & Co., 1889.
3 See Coquette Mother and Daughter for a second reference to the fragrant
bean-flower before Thomson.
60
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
I
meant as a good-humored satire on pastorals that ventured to
deal truthfully with English rustic life. The Latin form was
counted the ideal one for pastoral. To this form Gay held, evi-
dently with the conscious purpose of suggesting the Latin at
every turn.
Then he filled in this mould with the homeliest,
most realistic details of English country life. The plain, prac-
>tical truth of these details is simply amazing as will be seen from
the passages indicated in the note. See also the flowers brought
in, the primrose, kingcup, clover, daisie, gilliflower, mary-gold,
butter-flowers, cowslip, and others; and the animals, the witless
lamb, frisking kid, udder'd cow, clucking hen, waddling goose,
squeaking pigs, worrying cur, whining swine, paddling ducks,
guzzling hogs, and others; and the country sports, as romping
in the fields, blindman's buff, hot cockles, swinging, and others.²
In Pastoral IV is an assemblage of curious country supersti-
tions; in Pastoral I are given signs of rain; in Pastoral V are
funeral customs; and in Pastoral VI an account of the favorite
country songs. These poems are a veritable treasure-house for the
student of folk-lore. They might also serve as a diary of coun-
try occupations. Take for example Bumkinet's reminiscences of
Blouselinda's life in Pastoral V. In such a wood, he remem-
bers, they gathered fagots. There he drew down hazel boughs
and stuffed her apron with brown nuts. In another place he
had helped her hunt for her strayed hogs, and as they drove the
untoward creatures to the stye had seized the opportunity to tell
his love. At the dairy he had often seen her making butter pats,
or feeding with floods of whey the hogs that crowded to the
door. In the barn as he plied the flail, he had watched her sift
out food for the hens. In the field she had ranged the sheaves
as he pitched them on the growing mow. The object of these
¹ As illustrative of this point compare, Virgil, Eclogue VIII, 27, 28, and
Gay, Pastoral III, 59-62; Virgil, Eclogue I, 59-63, and Gay, Pastoral III,
67-72; Virgil, Eclogue V, 36-39, and Gay, Pastoral V, 83-87; Virgil, Eclogue
V, 76–78, and Gay, Pastoral V, 153-158; Virgil, Eclogue IV, 1–3, and Gay,
Pastoral VI, 1-3; Virgil, Eclogue VI, and Gay, Pastoral VI; Virgil, Eclogue
VIII, and Gay, Pastoral IV.
• Pastoral I.
NATURE IN POETRY OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 61
pastorals was to show the absurd incongruity between the Latin
form with its suggestions of Arcadian days, and the roughness of
English country life. The result was unexpected. Readers in
general, indifferent to scholarly congruities, were delighted with
the novelty, the air of freshness and truth in the pictures scat-
tered through the Pastorals. Poetry had suddenly and without
meaning to do it, gone from the city and the park to the very
plainest and most matter of fact sort of country people and
country occupations, and had somehow made them attractive.
Blouzelinda and Buxoma are not in the same order of beings as
the traditional Phyllis and Chloris, and they are equally far
removed from the vulgar repulsive country wenches in Swift's
coarse satires. They are real beings with a charm of their own,
and the love they inspire in Lobbin Clout and Cuddy is an
everyday, quite comprehensible affair.
The dirge for Blouzelinda indicates well the covert laugh
with which Gay wrote these descriptions of country life. The
clergyman said
"that Heaven would take her soul, no doubt,
And spoke the hour-glass in her praise-quite out.”
After the funeral the men trudged
"homeward to her mother's farm,
To drink new cyder mull'd, with ginger warm,
For gaffer Tread-well told us, by the by,
'Excessive sorrow is exceeding dry.'
1
This sense of fun is everywhere apparent, and shows how unwit-
tingly Gay broke a lance in a new cause. Yet some parts of his
Preface are startlingly modern in their plea for truth to nature.
Here is a passage which, so far as its spirit is concerned, might
have been said by either Crabbe or Wordsworth.
"Thou wilt not find my shepherdesses idly piping on oaten
reeds, but milking the kine, tying up the sheaves, or, if the hogs
are astray, driving them to the styes. My shepherd gathereth
none other nosegays but what are the growth of our own fields;
he sleepeth not under myrtle shades, but under a hedge; nor
doth he vigilantly defend his flock from wolves for there are none.”
•
62
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
:
""
Whatever Gay meant to do, he really did accomplish what
his Preface states as his aim. He turned poetry away from
the "insipid delicacy" of the conventional pastoral, and truth-
fully represented the "plain downright hearty cleanly folk'
of rustic England. And external nature, though nowhere dwelt
upon for its own sake, is everywhere present and so vividly por-
trayed, that the reader had what was certainly a poetic novelty
at that day, "a lively landscape of his own country, just as he might
have seen it, if he had taken a walk in the fields at the proper
season."
Thomas
Parnell
(1679-1718)
sea.
The use of external nature in Parnell's poems has narrow
limits. There is no mention of winter, autumn, or summer.
Mountains are merely noted in passing as dis-
agreeable features in the poet's dreary surround-
ings in Ireland. There is but one line about the
Wild scenery of whatever sort is ignored.
The only storm is described in some conventional lines in The
Hermit. There is almost no record of specific knowledge of
trees, or flowers, or birds. There are few indications of open-
ness to sensuous impressions from specific forms, colors, odors,
sounds. But in spite of these widely inclusive negations, Par-
nell is of distinct importance as a poet of nature. He has, to
begin with, some accurate first-hand observation. He speaks
once of the "differing green" of trees in spring. He describes
a fern with some minuteness. There are two charming descrip-
tions of banks and skies reflected in clear water.¹ Other fresh
observations are,
"Now early shepherds o'er the meadow pass
And print long footsteps in the glittering grass."
"When in the river cows for coolness stand
And sheep for breezes seek the lofty land." 3
Or this of the close of a storm,
"But now the clouds in airy tumult fly;
The sun emerging opes an azure sky ;
'Night Piece on Death. The Hermit.
2 Health.
3 The Flies.
112
NATURE IN POETRY OF The eighteeNTH CENTURY 63
a
A fresher green the smelling leaves display,
And, glittering as they tremble, cheer the day.” 1
Such lines are of value for they indicate, though they are few in
number, some power of direct vision and of restrained, simple
expression.
Parnell's distinctive excellence is, however, along different
lines. He records not facts but impressions. He is essentially
a poet of the spring; he felt intensely all the glad, abundant
life of the early year. But there is not a description of spring
in his poems.
He gives instead curiously happy descriptive
touches that suggest far more than they say. Note such lines
as,
"When spring came on with fresh delight,
or
Green was her robe, and green her wreath,
Wher-e'er she trod 'twas green beneath.””
or
"The planted lanes rejoice with dancing leaves.” ³
cer-
There is a lilt in such lines, a joyousness, an off-hand
tainty of touch, not in keeping with the customary cold and
labored descriptions of spring.
Of still greater significance is Parnell's literary use of nature.
In the Night Piece the external scene serves as an appropriate
background for the thought presented. The few natural facts are
so well chosen and so delicately touched that all the moral
reflections seem permeated with an appropriate out-of-doors
atmosphere. The calm, perfect beauty of the picture of night with
its closing suggestions of mystery and sadness, the fading of the
pale moon, and the sounds that come over the long lake, fit
exactly the course of the poet's melancholy meditation and
contribute to it. The gay light pictures in the Hymn to Con-
tentment are equally well suited to the spirit of joyous praise
with which that poem concludes.
Bishop Jebb has pointed out for the enjoyment of the
"classical and pious reader" the similarity between the moral
reflections in this poem and those in Cardinal Bona's Divina
The Hermit.
2 Anacreontic.
3 Health.
!
4
.f
64
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
f
Psalmodia. Parnell's close adherence to the thought of the
Cardinal in the didactic part of the poem, and the fact that the
last forty-two lines, the ones that deal with nature, are entirely
Parnell's own, give striking proof of the originality of his thought
concerning the external world and its power over the human
heart. It is in these lines that we find his most subtly suggestive
conception of nature. He represents himself as sad at heart.
He seeks contentment in earthly pomp, in the paths of knowledge,
in solitary search after diverting scenes in nature, but in vain.
At last he goes to a wood, and as he yields himself to the influ-
ence of the place becomes suddenly aware that in this quiet spot
the true spirit of contentment is speaking to him wise lessons of
self-control and communion with God. In gratitude for the joy
that has come to him through nature he utters a song of praise
to the "source of all nature," but as he looks about him on the
glad world, he feels that his song is merely an expression in
words of the great chorus of thanksgiving going always silently
up from sun and moon and stars, from seas, woods, and streams.
Such work as this is indeed remarkable before 1713; and
for spirituality and insight, for what has well been called "a
sense of the thing behind the thing," it was many years before
it was paralleled.
The Morning Contemplation is the only one of Pattison's poems
that has much to do with nature. It was written, his friend tells us,
on the banks of a river where the young poet used
to wander, endeavoring to attune his verses to the
smoothness and harmony of the stream.
He was
William
Pattison
(1706-1727)
especially sensitive to the "sadly pleasing melan-
choly" of moonlight nights and solitary walks, and he was one
of the first poets to express a longing for solitude with nature.
Gilded rooms of state, the purple slavery of towns, rob him of
the bliss he finds in the living forest. When alone in the spacious
fields he thinks himself almost a god. Even little scrubby thorns
courts can show. Nature
are to him more pleasing objects than
charms his senses and soothes his soul; she is his best teacher,
and he trusts her plain instructions.
'Parnell: Poetical Works, p. 77.
NATURE IN POETRY OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 65
"Tell me, all ye mighty wise,
Ye governors of colleges;
What deeper wisdom can you know
Than easy nature's works here show,"
reads like a crude prevision of Wordsworth's The Tables Turned.
The "excellent morality" of The Morning Contemplation is much
in the vein of Dyer's Grongar Hill. Every fact in nature arouses
some thought or some emotion. By contrast or analogy it sug-
gests human life, as in the lines,
"See this river as it goes,
With what eloquence it flows?
Believe me, life's the very same,
The very image of this stream."
Pattison's poem is of real importance, because its early date¹
ranks it as probably the first of the eighteenth century poems.
that treat of nature in the romantic, sentimental, fervid fashion
afterwards brought to its culmination by the Wartons.
Allan Ramsay's education was of the most limited sort, so
that, in early life at least, the development of his genius was
unbiased by a knowledge of Latin and Greek or
(1685-1758)
Allan Ramsay even English models. After he was fifteen he lived
in Edinburgh and there began to be infected by
the pseudo-classicism of his day. The poems in which country
scenes and people were most fully represented were, however,
pretty clear and unadulterated records of his early experiences in
the secluded mountainous district of Lanarkshire where he was
brought up. The best poems of this sort are the pastoral dia-
logues, Patie and Roger, 1721, and Jenny and Meggy, 1723, or
rather, The Gentle Shepherd, 1725, which is a combination of the
two pastorals thrown into completer dramatic form. A second
edition of The Gentle Shepherd appeared in the same year as
Thomson's Winter. It is worthy of note that the service ren-
'Pattison died in 1727, and he was in college during the four preceding
years. The records of his life are scanty, but he probably wrote this poem
before 1723, when he left the region of his dear Ituna, that being the stream on
whose banks he was accustomed to murmur out his verses.
2 See Ramsay's Poems, I, p. xxvii.
+
66
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
dered by Gay to English poetry is in many respects paralleled by
Allan Ramsay's contributions to Scottish song. There are in
Ramsay's pastorals similar closely studied scenes from peasant
life, wherein are minutely described the superstitions,' the house-
hold customs,² the out-door occupations,³ the trials, and the
pleasures, of the homely folk among the hills of Scotland. But
there are important differences. What Gay did lightly and with-
out serious intent was with Ramsay a service of love. He was
not laughing in his sleeve at the very truth he so capitally por-
trayed. Throughout his work there is, in general, an air of sin-
cerity. It is as if Gay wrote from the point of view of an out-
sider with an unfailingly keen eye, and a quick sense of humor.
But Ramsay wrote from a life that he had known and loved,
and that he thoroughly respected. There are occasional false
notes in his pastorals. He gives his shepherds flutes and
reeds; his comparisons, especially his cumulative similes, are
conventional; he makes rather stiff use of personification; and
his desire to make his hero and heroine well born interferes with
the pastoral simplicity of the drama. But these are extraneous
and hardly affect the real texture of the work.
We find in Ramsay's poems occasional hints that his presen-
tation of homely Scottish scenes and people was not merely
instinctive, but that it was in some measure a deliberate choice.
In Tartana, written in 1721, he said that his chosen muses were
those that wandered through the clover meadows and the groves
along the smooth meandering Tweed, or by the gentle Tay, or
where the haughty Clyde roar'd over lofty cataracts.
'Cf. Richy and Sandy, l. 8; Robert, Richy, and Sandy, Il. 31–34; Gentle
Shepherd, I, 1, 89; I, 1, 148; II, 2, 17-40; II, 3, 27-47; V, 1, 19–43.
2Cf. Gentle Shepherd. I, 2, 190–193, 207; I, 2, 200-204; II, 1, 76–86; II,
2, Prologue; II, 1, Prologue; III, 3, 111-116; V, 2, Prologue.
3 Cf. Gentle Shepherd, I, 1, 205; I, 2, 1−4.
4 Cf. Richy and Sandy, ll. 49, 50; Gentle Shepherd, I, 1, 43, 44, 67–70, 156;
I, 2, 131-137; Song VIII.
5 Gentle Shepherd, I, 2, 138-147; II, 4, 43-66; IV, 2, 148–158.
"In the copious notes to the 1815 edition of Pennecnik's 7 weeddale is a
full account of the country about New-Hall, accompanied by quotations from
Ramsay's poem, to show the accuracy of his descriptions.
"
E
I
'
I
NATURE IN POETRY OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 67
་་
Phœbus, and his imaginary nine
With me have lost the title of divine;
To no such shadows will I homage pay,
These to my real muses shall give way.”
And again, protesting against the narrowness of poetic rules
and customs, he said,
"With more of Nature than of art
From stated rules I often start,-
Rules never studied yet by me.
My muse is British, bold and free,
And loves at large to frisk and bound,"
and he called a wide, wild garden where all sorts of plants
grew in wanton confusion, a paradise made by nature herself.
Even more emphatic is his Preface to The Evergreen in 1724.
In commendation of the poems he had collected he said, "The
morning rises as she does in the Scottish horizon. We are not
carried to Greece or Italy for a shade, a Stream, or a Breeze.
I find not Fault with these Things, as they are in Greece
or Italy: But with a Northern Poet for fetching his Materials
from these Places, in a Poem, of which his own Country is the
Scene; as our Hymners to the Spring and Makers of Pastorals
frequently do."
Ramsay's use of external nature is more charming than Gay's.
Scottish poetry had never, in its attitude towards the out-door
world, passed through so barren and arid a period as that of the
pseudo-classicism in England, nor had the Scottish people ever
1 Answer to the Foregoing (To Somerville).
In the poems addressed to Allan Ramsay on the publication of his works
in 1721 we find significant critical approval based on Ramsay's avoidance of
tame nature, and his turning from the authority of the schools. The simile of
a garden recurs in a poem by "C. T." He planted trees in equal rows and
arranged flowers in a parterre, but found his labor in vain. The narrow scene
became daily more distasteful to him, and finally he went back to the fields
where "Nature wantoned in her prime." Here he found space, variety, sur-
prise, and was content. Ja. Arbuckle praises Ramsay for roaming over hill
and dale and leaving "carpet-ground to "tender-footed beasts," and for
choosing to subsist on his native stock while other poets pilfered fame by pick-
ing the locks of their predecessors. Poems of Allan Ramsay, I, p. 4−7.
""
68
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
·
lost their sense of the beauty and especially of the mysterious
power of glens and braes and burns. So Ramsay's love of nat-
ure was not without a considerable background in the way of
national poetic spirit. He spoke out in fresh, true words what
everybody knew, and described scenes familiar to every eye.
There are, however, distinct limitations in Ramsay's knowledge
of nature and his power of sympathetic representation. His
recognition of colors is fresh and charming, but elementary,
like that shown in ballads. “Caledonian hills are green,’
neath a green shade,” "the simmer green,'
(6
19 66
""be-
a green meadow,"
my native green plains," are characteristic phrases.
"When corn-riggs wav'd yellow; and blue heather bells,'
and
"To pu' the rashes green with roots sae white,"
2
are almost the only instances of any other color than green.
Such phrases as "scented meadows,” "sweet scented rucks,"
"new blown scents," "sweetest briar," "blooming fragrance,"
show the same simple, undifferentiated recognition of odors.
A few lines as,
"How fast the westlin winds sough through the reeds " 3
are more specific representations of sounds, but we do not often
find words so discriminating. His references to trees, flowers,
and birds are of the same general, limited sort. There are
"bonny haughs" and "bonny woods;" there are rising plants,
primroses, daisies, and gowans; there are "quiristers on high,"
the merle, the mavis, and the lark. But there is no subtle, de-
tailed observation. It is the open, frank, spontaneous joy of a
child happy in the glad world about him. Ramsay's best lines
are descriptive of shining days, clear heavens, dancing streams.
"The sun shines sweetly, a' the lift looks blue," "ae shining
day," ae clear morn of May," "the morning shines," "the lift's
unclouded blue," "fair simmer mornings" indicate the general.
+
79 66
I The Gentle Shepherd, 2:4, 62.
4
2 The Gentle Shepherd, 2:4, 50.
3 The Gentle Shepherd, 2 : 4, 10.
4 To Mr. William Starrat, 46.
T
NATURE IN POETRY OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 69
CENTUR
atmosphere of the scenery introduced. Occasional closer touches
are seen in such lines as,
"I've seen with shining fair the morning rise,
And soon the fleecy clouds mirk a' the skies,'
"For yet the sun was wading thro' the mist." 2
Best of all are the lines about streams.
" I
3
"A trotting burnie wimpling through the ground
Its channel pebbles, shining, smooth and round,” ³
"A little fount
Where water poplin springs."
4
“I've seen the silver spring a while rin clear,
And soon the mossy puddles disappear." 5
"Between twa birks out o'er a little lin
The water fa's and makes a singan din,
A pool breast-deep, beneath, as clear as glass,
Kisses with easy whirles the bord'ring grass,"
are descriptions almost perfect of their kind. In their beauty
and freshness they show that the eye was on the object. Mr.
Shairp says of Habbie's How, "A pool in a burn among the
Lowland Hills could hardly be more naturally described," and
one need not be a Scotchman to feel sure that the same is true
of the minor descriptive touches.
Though Ramsay was brought up in a rugged part of Scot-
land, he seems to have had none of the modern feeling for
mountains. But he speaks of "black, heathery mountains," of
“northern mountains clad with snow," of "mountains clad with
purple bloom," and of hills that "smile with purple heather."
Once he exclaims,
"Look up to Pentland's tow'ring top..
Buried beneath great wreaths of snaw,
• The Gentle Shepherd, 3:3, 41.
* The Gentle Shepherd, I : I, 137.
3 The Gentle Shepherd, Prologue, I : 2.
4 The Gentle Shepherd, Prologue, 2:3.
5 The Gentle Shepherd, 3: 3, 43.
6 The Gentle Shepherd, I : 2, 7.
!
70
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
ཏ
O'er ilka cleugh, ilk scar, and slap,
As high as any Roman wa,'
and he notes that
"? I
Speats aft roar frae mountains heigh.
Such passages, though they show no love for the mountains, are
yet sufficiently picturesque and exact to save Ramsay from the
imputation of never having seen the wild country around him.
To the ocean he gives but a single line,
Along wild shores, where tumbling billows break." 3
It is interesting to note that in Ramsay as in Gay nature is
made subordinate to man, in the sense that the pictures from
nature are nowhere elaborated or dwelt upon ostensibly for their
own sake.
The main interest is in the study of the characters.
The chief contribution of Gay and Ramsay to the growing love
of nature in poetry had to do with the natural man in natural
scenes, rather than with the natural scene itself. Gay's service in
the way of external nature was largely the outcome of his fidelity
to the fact. Ramsay did more. He not only gave separate
pictures both beautiful and true, but he somehow fused them
with the human elements of his pastoral in such a way that we
cannot think of the racy love-scenes apart from their fresh and
lovely surroundings.
Dr. Armstrong
(1709-1779)
In 1725, or shortly before, were written three poems on
Winter. They are important as marking the first real turning
from the softer to the sterner aspects of nature.
Dr. Armstrong's poem was inspired by a winter
spent among the wild romantic scenes about
river Esk. His later poetry is not important so far
as the use of nature is concerned. He became a great ad-
mirer of Thomson whose style he imitated with some success,
but he shows little of Thomson's sensitiveness to natural beauty.
the
1 An ode to the Ph
-
---, 1721, st. 1.
2 Answer to the foregoing (To Somerville).
3 Prospect of Plenty.
4 (a) Dr. Armstrong's Winter in Imitations of Shakespeare, written in
1725, though not published till 1770.
NATURE IN POETRY OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 71
""
His point of view is that of the physician. His hatred of the
town is based on his objection to smoke and bad air.' His
summons to the mountains rests on the value of exercise and
oxygen. One of the most effective passages is his apostrophe
to the Liddal, that stream "unknown to song, where he played
when life was young.'
The only poem on which we need to
dwell is the Winter, which, though often absolutely unintelli-
gible from its inflated and periphrastic form of expression, has
yet a rugged vigor and originality. It shows occasionally a
homely realism suggestive of Crabbe, as in the description of the
shivering clown. The observation is most of it first-hand.
description of the birds that, when the storm comes on,
"With domestic tameness, hop and flutter
Within the roofs of persecuting man,"
suggest Thomson's famous red-breast.
lines such as these :
or these:
The
Note also the truth of
"when the murk clouds
Roll'd up in heavy wreaths, low-bellying, seem
To kiss the ground, and all the waste of snow
Looks blue beneath them;"
"huge sheets of loosen'd ice
Float on their bosoms to the deep, and jar
And clatter as they pass."
→
Or, to strike a lovelier note, this closing hint of the coming
spring:
Hark! how loud
The cuckoo wakes the solitary wood!"
The whole poem is characterized by a delight in the wildest
phases of winter weather and it shows an originality of concep-
(b) Riccaltoun's A Winter's Day, written before 1725, published in Sav-
age's Miscellany in 1726, and´in Gentleman's Magazine, 1740.
(c) Thomson's Winter, written in fragments before 1725, but fused into
one poem at Mallet's suggestion in 1726.
* The Art of Preserving Health, 1:64–96.
2 The Art of Preserving Health, 1:97-102; 3: 39-52.
3 The Art of Preserving Health, 3:71-96.
-
**
1
72
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
tion, a fullness of observation, and an occasional strength of
expression remarkable in a boy not yet sixteen.
Robert Riccal-
Riccaltoun's poem is chiefly remarkable because its author
was a friend of Thomson in his boyhood and doubtless helped to
cultivate his taste for nature; because it was this
toun (1691-1769) poem that suggested Thomson's descriptions of
winter; and because winter was at that time a new
poetic theme. The "masterly touches" of which Thomson
speaks are hard to find unless he referred merely to the rough
truth in the catalogue-like summaries of natural facts. A dis-
cussion of Thomson's Winter will come more naturally in the
next section.
In this study of the period preceding Thomson we have
still to notice the indications that even Pope and Addison were
not left untouched by the new spirit. Such indica-
tions, however, show but faintly in their poetry.
Addison's Cursus Glacialis (1699) was written in
Latin, and the few descriptive lines are purely
conventional. It is simply an attempt to show that the vigorous
sports of winter
Pope (1688-
1744) and Addi-
son (1672-1719)
I
"New brace the nerves, and active life supply."
Pope's Pastorals appeared in Tonson's Miscellany in 1709.
They were enthusiastically received, and apparently con-
sidered a charmingly natural presentation of country life.
Wycherley called Pope's Muse "a sprightly lass of the plains,"
and said, that "in her modest and natural dress she outshone all
Apollo's court ladies in their more artful, laboured, and costly
finery." But no assemblage of such contemporary judgments
could convince a modern reader that these poems show any reál
traces of a conception of the outer world unlike that of the clas-
sicists. Windsor Forest must be more carefully noted, both
because of Wordsworth's implied commendation in his reference
to the "passage or two" that contain new images of external
nature, but chiefly because it is, as Courthope observes, the first
I
Pope: Works, VI, pp. 36, 37.
•
2 Wordsworth: Essay Supplementary to the Preface, 1815.
1
NATURE IN POETRY OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 73
He may have had in
"professed composition on local scenery" since Denham, and
Marvell.' The poem was written at two different times. The
first 290 lines have to do with the country. They were written
in 1704, at about the same time as the Pastorals. Although this
part of the poem purported to be the outcome of daily rides in
Windsor Forest, the descriptions are so vague and general that
most of them would fit any other spot as well. The lines that
show personal observation are certainly few.
What passages
Wordsworth meant can only be surmised.
mind the description of the pheasants. But more exact obser-
vation is shown in the references to the doves flocking on the
naked, frosty trees, the flight of the clamorous lapwing, the
trembling of trees reflected in a stream, and the purple heather.²
That Pope had some desire to conform to the truth in represent-
ing English scenery is indicated by his doubt as to the advisability
of referring to the vintage in describing an English autumn.3
And when he revised his poems he omitted "blushing," as not
being applicable to violets, and "wolves," as not belonging to
England. Warton points out, also, that in adapting a Latin
description of the Eurotas to serve him in a description of the
Thames, he changed "laurels " to "willows."
In spite of these indications of a desire to be true to nature,
it is to Pope's prose rather than his poetry that we must turn for
any real influence in favor of simplicity and truth in the presenta-
tion of natural facts. Though in reading Pope's letters every
statement is instinctively taken cum grano salis, because of his
known insincerity and striving after effect, we now and then
I
Pope: Works, I, p. 322.
Denham: Cooper's Hill.
Marvell: Upon the Hill and Grove at Billbarrow, and Upon Appleton
House.
2 Veitch in Feeling for Nature in Scottish Poetry, II, p. 52, credits
Thomson with being the first poet to mention purple heather, but this mention
by Pope is more than twenty years earlier.
3 Pope: Works, I, p. 346, n. 3. (But compare Autumn, l. 74.)
4 Pope: Works, I, p. 269, n. I.
5 Pope; Works, I, p. 283, n. 3; p. 296, n. 9.
6
Pope: Works, I, 293. Cf. Warton: Essay on Pope, I, p. 6.
2
菜
​74
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
112
strike passages that have a genuine tone of pleasure in such mild
forms of nature as his physical condition enabled him to know.'
Addison's Essays also show real delight in the milder forms of
the external world. "A beautiful prospect," he says, "delights
the soul as much as a demonstration." "A man of polite imagi-
nation often feels a greater satisfaction in the prospect of fields
and meadows than another does in the possession."
We note,
too, his pleasure in wide views,3 in sunset, and in spring.5 He
also deprecated the use of pagan mythology as meaningless in
the poetry of a Christian nation," and he heartily praised Ambrose-
Philips's attempts to confine English pastorals to English scenes.?
And finally, both Pope and Addison were strong influences in
bringing about the change from the formal to the natural school
of gardening.Ⓡ
SUMMARY.
4
In a statement of the influences in this period that make for a
new spirit towards nature we must not forget that it was in reality
a classical period, most of its tendencies and all of its best work
being classical. The indications of the new spirit are fugitive,
occasional, and usually unconscious. With this proviso, we may
sum up the new tendencies. The change from the formal to
the natural school of gardening was begun in this period, and
¹a. Description of moonshine walk. (This letter, perhaps a sincere
expression when first written (1713), was a favorite of Pope's. When he pub-
lished his Letters he made an amusing blunder by transferring this passage to
a letter dated February 10, 1715, at which time the park where he was supposed
to have watched the moonshine and reflected on mortality, was under water
from the great flood of February 9th. See Letters, I, p. 367.)
b. Pleasure in birds, etc., I, p. 338.
c. Twickenham in spring, IV, pp. 72, 74.
d. Autumn, IV, p. 89.
2 Spectator, June 21, 1712 (No. 411).
3 Spectator, June 23, 1712 (No. 412); June 25, 1712 (No. 414).
4 Spectator, June 23, 1712 (No. 412).
5 Spectator, May 31 (No. 393).
❝Spectator, October 30, 1712 (No. 523).
7 Spectator, October 30, 1712 (No. 523). Cf. Guardian, Nos. 22, 23, 28, 30,
32, 40.
* See further discussion under "Gardening.”
5
NATURE IN POETRY Of the eigHTEENTH CENTURY 75
owed much to Pope and Addison.
The artificial shepherds
and shepherdesses of the conventional pastoral were sup-
planted by real English and Scottish peasants, as in Ambrose
Philips, Gay, and Ramsay. There was a growing sense of the
beauty and charm of the external world, as in Lady Winchelsea,
Parnell, and Ramsay. In most of the poets mentioned in this
period, there was a new quickness and minuteness of observation
leading to a wider knowledge of natural facts.
There was appre-
ciative recognition of new aspects of nature, as night and winter.
There was not lacking a hint of the romantic note of melancholy
which later became one characteristic of the poetry of nature.
And there was a dawning consciousness of the spiritual potencies
in the external world. There was also an occasional self-conscious
statement of new principles, as humorously in Gay, seriously in
Ramsay, and casually in Pope and Addison.
James
Thomson
(1700-1748)
THE POETS BETWEEN 1726 AND 1730.
Thomson is confessedly the most important figure in the early
history of Romanticism. He foreshadowed the new spirit in
various ways, as in his strong love of liberty, his
constant plea for the poor as against the rich, his
preference for blank verse, his imitation of older
models, especially Spenser, and in his tendency
towards comprehensive schemes; but his chief importance is in
his attitude towards external nature. If, however, we take into
consideration all his work, we shall find in more than three-
fourths of it the utmost apparent indifference to nature. In the
five tragedies written between 1738 and 1748 there is no hint
that their author knew more of the world about him than the
veriest classicist of them all. In Alfred (1740), written by
Thomson and Mallet, there are occasional descriptive touches,
but these are almost too slight to mention when we think what
effects might have been produced in a play the action of which
occurs on a beautiful wooded island inhabited only by a few
peasants. In the other tragedies nature is drawn upon merely
for conventional similitudes, as in Edward and Elenora (1739),
where five of the eleven similitudes are the comparison of rage
76
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
or fierce passions to tempests; or in Sophonisba, an earlier play
(1728), where there is not a fresher or more forceful comparison
than that of an army to a torrent, passion to a whirlwind, the
hero to a lion, and the heroine to a blooming morn. In the
3300 lines of the tedious poem, Liberty (1734–1736), not more
than fifty refer to external nature, and of these the only passages
that suggest, even remotely, the author of The Seasons are the
descriptions of the sullen land of Sarmatia' and the shaggy
mountain charms of the Swiss Alps. The Castle of Indolence,
written in 1733, is the only one of the poems written after 1730
that indicates any genuine love of nature. The charm of this poem
for modern readers is perhaps largely due to its use of external
nature, for, though there is little of the rich, elaborate descrip-
tion characteristic of The Seasons, what there is is so exquisitely
appropriate that all the listless, luxurious life of this land of soft
delights is seen through a romantic and picturesque setting of
waving, shadowy woods, sunny glades, and silver streams.
Yet a
closer study of the descriptive stanzas shows little more than a
musically felicitous combination of the attributes conventionally
recognized as belonging to a pleasing landscape. The only lines
really indicative of a love of nature such as the classicists had
not known are the following from the second Canto:
"I care not, Fortune, what you me deny:
You can not rob me of free Nature's grace;
You can not shut the windows of the sky,
Through which Aurora shows her brightening face;
You can not bar my constant feet to trace
The woods and lawns, by living stream, at eve.”³
It is to The Seasons that we must go if we wish to understand
Thomson's work as a poet of nature. A brief analysis of the
study of external nature in these poems will serve to show both
in what respects Thomson's work was the outcome of a new
spirit, and in what respects its affiliations are with the old.
An important part of Thomson's poetical endowment was his
'Liberty, Part 3, ll. 514–526.
2 Liberty, Part 4, ll. 348–362.
3 The Castle of Indolence, Canto II, st. 3.
4
NATURE IN POETRY OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 77
*
;
Openness to
sense
impressions
I
quick sensitiveness to the sights and sounds and odors of the
world about him. He looked on nature with the
eye of an artist, but not of an artist in black and
white. It was not form but color that attracted
him. There are occasional descriptions, as of the
garden in Spring and of the precious stones in Summer, where
the lines glow like a painter's palette, and throughout The Sea-
sons there is a general impression of rich and varied coloring.
That this impression is stronger than a list of the color terms
used would seem to justify is due to two facts, both characteristic
of Thomson's work in general. In the first place he did not care
for nicely discriminated shades or delicate tints. He loved
broad masses of strong, clear color. He dwells with ever new
delight on blue as seen in the sky or reflected in water, and on
green, "smiling Nature's universal robe." In the second place
he is especially rich in such words as indicate color in general
without specification as to the kind. "The flushing year," "every-
coloured glory," "the boundless blush of spring," "the innu-
merous-colored scene of things," "unnumbered dyes," "hues on
hues," are typical phrases. Motion also caught his eye more.
quickly than form. The dancing light and shade in a forest
pathway, the waving of branches, the flow of water, the rapid
flight or slow march of clouds, the golden, shadowy sweep of
wind over ripened grain, count for much in the pleasurable
impression made upon his mind by different scenes.
Sound
It is evident that Thomson received more through his eye
than through his ear, but he was very far from being indifferent
to the sounds of nature. The hum of bees, the
low of cattle, the bleating of sheep are frequently
noted. The songs of birds, while often represented by some
general phase, as "the music of the woods," or "woodland
hymns," are now and then more minutely specified, as in the
fine description of the "symphony of spring."3 There is also
3 Spring, 574-613.
'Spring, 529-555.
2 Summer, 140–159. Suggested probably by Mallet. See Letter, August
2, 1726: "Your hint of the sapphire, emerald, ruby, strikes my imagination
with a pleasing taste, and shall not be neglected."
}
78
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
1
7
I
effective representation of the sounds heard in storms, as in the
summer thunder-storm. The most frequent sounds are, as is
inevitable in an English poet whose facts come from actual
observation, those made by water, as the plaint of purling rills,
the thunder of impetuous torrents, or the growling of frost-
imprisoned rivers.
While Thomson was not the first poet to speak of the odor
of the bean-flower, his words show a keen appreciation of that
perfume, and certainly the "smell of dairy," was a country odor
first poetically noticed by him. His sensitiveness to odors is not
especially marked, yet it is safe to say that he was in this respect
more observant than his immediate predecessors or contempo--
raries.
Abundant
first-hand
knowledge
In reading the poetry of nature after Dryden in his-
torical sequence, there is, in coming to The Seasons, a sudden
sense of freedom and elation, a sense of having at
last come upon a poet who writes freely and
spontaneously from a large personal experience,
whose facts press in upon him even too abundantly.
He knows many kinds of nature and under varying aspects. His
garden picture, though somewhat too much in the floral catalogue
style, shows how well he knew the cultivated flowers he described,
and he speaks with no less loving minuteness of furze, the thorny
brake, the purple heather, dewy cowslips, white hawthorn, and
lilies of the vale. It is a pleasure to see how much he knew
about birds. He describes their habits with remarkable accu-
racy and minuteness. He shows their tender arts in courtship,"
their skill in nest-building,³ and the "pious frauds" whereby they
lure away the would-be trespasser. In no poetry between Mar-
vell and Thomson do we find birds so fully described, and Mar-
vell has nothing so charming and sympathetic as Thomson's
winter red-breast.5 Thomson's scope is also wider in that he
knew the birds of the seashore as well as those of wood and
meadow. Equally close attention is given to the various domestic
* Summer, I116-1168.
2
Spring, 614-630.
3 Spring, 636-660.
6
4 Spring, 690–701.
5 Winter, 245-256.
6 Spring, 21-25; Winter, 144–147.
•
NATURE IN POETRY OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 79
Love for
animals
fowl. The peacock had flaunted his painted tail through poetry
for a hundred years, and is now for the first time outranked as an
object of interested observation by the hen, the duck, and the
turkey.' The frequent descriptions of domestic animals, especi-
ally the sheep,² the horse,³ and the ox,* also show minute knowl-
edge such as could not have been gained by books. It is, more-
over, a significant fact that through these numer-
ous and varied studies there runs a genuine love
for animals. Thomson was, at least in poetic
theory, a vegetarian, and he vigorously denounced the killing of
animals for food as conduct worthy only of wild beasts.5 His
poetical invectives against hunting are as vigorous as Cowper's."
He objects to caging birds,' and his indignation waxes high
over the bees "robb'd and murder'd" by man's tyranny.
The only unoffending animal that escapes Thomson's wide
sympathy is the fish. The skill with which the monarch of
the brook is lured from his dark haunt and at last "gaily'
dragged to land is described with a gusto in curious contrast to
the pity lavished on the tortured worm that may have served for
bait.
ΙΟ
Enjoyment
of winter
8
""
As we have just seen, the animals that Thomson described were
those that any country lad might know rather than those that
had been canonically set apart for poetical service.
The same independent judgment is evident in
his study of other neglected realms in the world of
nature. He gloried in storms and winter. Though he now
and then falls into the conventional phraseology, and speaks
of winter as drear and awful, he yet in the same breath exclaims
that he finds its horrors congenial. The contrast of a first
winter in London turns his mind with full emphasis to the days
of his youth when he wandered with unceasing joy through
virgin snows, and listened to the roar of the winds and the burst-
I
Spring, 770-785.
2 Summer, 371-422.
6 Autumn, 360-457; Winter, 788–793.
7 Spring, 702-728.
3 Spring, 808-820; Summer, 506–515. 8 Autumn, 1172-1207.
4 Spring, 362-371; Summer, 489-493. 9 Spring, 394-442.
3
5 Spring, 336-373.
ΙΟ
Spring, 388-389.
80
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
I
2
ing torrent, and watched the deep tempest brewing in the grim
sky. Such experiences he remembers with joy for they "exalt
the soul to solemn thought." Through all the descriptive por-
tions of the Winter there is a vigorous, manly enthusiasm as
tonic and bracing as the bright, frosty days themselves.
Thomson's pleasure in the sterner phenomena of nature is fur-
ther shown by his evident delight in tracing the progress of any
storm, whether the thunder storm of summer, the devastating
wind and rain of autumn,³ or the black gloom of a winter tempest.4
These fierce tempests certainly are of more comparative impor-
tance in The Seasons than they are in nature. Their frequent
choice may be in part due to their dramatic qualities of rapidity
and force. The crashing and hurtling of the elements was a
subject not unsuited to Thomson's splendid but ponderous and
swelling style. But in the main it is only fair to suppose that he
wrote of storms well because he had many times watched them
with an interest that had made him remember them.
With many other aspects of nature was Thomson familiar.
He knew much of the sky both by day and by night. His few
short descriptions of the starry heavens are worth
more than all Young's far-sought epithets.5 One
The sky
phrase concerning the radiant orbs
That more than deck, that animate the sky,"
11 6
#
-
seems a conscious turning away from the old artificial concep
tion. One of the finest moon-light passages' is reminiscent of
Milton in two lines,
"Now through the passing cloud she seems to stoop,
Now up the pure cerulean rides sublime,"
but the close,
"
The whole air whitens with a boundless tide
Of silver radiance, trembling round the world,"
is Thomson's own, and is a good example of the full sweet har-
I Winter, 1-14.
Summer, 1103-1168.
3 Autumn, 311-348.
4 Winter, 72-201.
5 See as illustrative: Winter, 127, 738-741,
6 Summer, 1704.
7 Autumn, 1088–1102.
{
NATURE IN POETRY OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY
81
1
mony that marks his verse at its best. There are many passages
and apparently casual phrases indicative of the closeness with which
he watched clouds.' The doubling fogs that roll around the hills
and wrap the world in a "formless gray confusion” through which
the shepherd stalks gigantic is described with a Wordsworthian
felicity and precision.2
5
The descriptions referred to below of early morning,3 of sun-
set,' of evening, and of night may be perhaps taken as among the
best examples of their sort in The Seasons. As a whole
they show conclusively from what long intimacy with
nature Thomson wrote.
The very freshness of
Sunrise
sunset
evening
morning breathes from the sunrise picture in Sum-
mer and the little picture in Autumn is more delicately sugges-
tive than many a more pretentious description of the dawning
day. The sunset after the rain in Spring is one of the best exam-
ples of Thomson's power to paint word pictures. It would be
difficult for any canvas to present a scene at once so mellow and
radiant, and so transfused with the joy of a renovated earth. As
exquisite in their way are the descriptions of the slow approach of
'Sober Evening" with her circling shadows and the softly swell-
ing breeze that stirs the stream and wood; and the later description
of the strange uncertain mingling of light and darkness in a sum-
mer night in England. These passages and others that might be
quoted show to what fine issues Thomson's pen was sometimes
touched, but it cannot be denied that his really intimate and exact
knowledge of nature and her ways could not hold all his descrip-
tions subject to the charm of simplicity and truth.
As further illustrative of Thomson's knowledge of all that per-
tained to the country we have his admirably vivid
and detailed accounts of the homely labors of a
farmer's life, as plowing, sowing, reaping, hay making," and
Farm life
7
8
9
¹ See as illustrative, Spring, 30-31, 139-141, 145-151, 398-444; Winter
54-57, 77-80, 195-196, 202–203, etc.
Autumn, 710-731. cf. Wordsworth: Prelude 8: 265.
3 Autumn, 151-152. Summer, 47-66.
4 Spring, 189-202.
5 Summer, 1647-1659.
6 Summer, 1682-1698.
7 Spring, 34-43.
8 Spring, 44-47.
9 Autumn, 153-169.
10 Summer, 352-370.
82
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
I
sheep shearing. Of these the sheep shearing is the most simply
charming and natural. It is also the most noteworthy, because
sheep and shepherds had long been the very substance out of
which pastorals were woven so that in such descriptions the con-
trast between the new and the old way of looking at country life
is sharply defined. Thomson's pastoral queen and shepherd king
are at the opposite pole from the sentimental, affected, useless
nymphs and swains who had before posed as the guardians of
English sheep. His shepherds are sturdy fellows, doing hon-
est work and plenty of it, and as such they had no predeces-
sors in English classical poetry. The sheep, too, are real animals.
They have to be watched with a vigilance of which no flower-
crowned swain playing on an oaten pipe would be capable. And
they must be washed and sheared and branded. In winter they
must be housed and fed no matter what the dangers on the dark,
stormy hills. It is this strong, refreshing air of reality in Thom-
son's poetry, and his unfeigned respect and admiration for the
actual country life in England that completed the work begun by
the ugly satire of Swift and the mock pastorals of Gay, and made
the old, conventional, psuedo-classic pastoral from that time on an
impossibility in English poetry.
Dislike of
boundaries
The phrase "dislike of boundaries" is perhaps not very apt, but
it may serve to describe what is certainly a pervasive quality of
Thomson's work, and a significant quality for if
there was one thing more pleasing than another to
an orthodox classicist it was a well defined limit.
Thomson preferred the blank verse to the couplet because the
unrhymed, flowing lines gave a certain freedom. There is an air
of abundance, of even undue exuberance about much of his work.
Even his diction presents this idea of lavishness. There is a sur-
prisingly large number of such words as effulgent, refulgent, effu-
sion, diffusion, suffusion, profusion from the roots fundo and
fulgeo with their idea of a liberal pouring out. Luxuriant, ample,
prodigal, boundless, unending, ceaseless, immense, interminable,
immeasurable, vast, infinite, are typical words.
'Summer, 371-442.
+
NATURE IN POETRY OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 83
?
Profusely poured around,
Materials infinite,"
"Infinite splendor wide investing all,"
"To the far horizon wide-diffused,
A boundless deep immensity of shade,"
Night "a shade immense, magnificent and vast,”
}} I
11 2
are typical phrases. In one short description the birds are
"innumerous;" they are "prodigal" of harmony; their joy over-
flows in music "unconfined"; the song of the linnets is " poured
out profusely." In another short passage the stores of the vale
are “lavish,” the lily is "luxuriant; and grows in fair "pro-
fusion," the flowers are "unnumbered," beauty is "unbounded,"
and bees fly in "swarming millions. When images come
into his mind it is by the ten thousand. In spring the country
is "one boundless blush," "far diffused around." He loves
the "liberal air," "lavish fragrance," "full luxuriance," extensive
harvests," "immeasurable," or "exhaustless" stores, "copious
exhalations." All is superlative, exaggerated, scornful of limits.
It was
"the unbounded scheme of things" that most appealed
to him.
Feeling for
landscape
The same point receives illustration in his sense for landscape.
He rejoiced in a wide view.³ He loved to seek out some proud
eminence and there let his eye wander "far excur-
sive," and dwell on "boundless prospects." Such
scenes not only gave him a chance for picturesque
enumerations without any especial demand for minute discrimina-
tion, but they satisfied his preference for grand, general effects.
Closely connected with the sense for landscape is the use of
geographical romance, or the heightening of poetic effect
by the accumulation of sounding geographical names. The
I
¹ Spring, 589-608.
2 Spring, 494-509.
4
3 Spring, 107-113, 950–962; Summer, 1406-1441.
4 W. D. McClintock; Unpublished notes.
5 Summer, 819-829; Autumn, 781-804, cf. Shairp: Poetic Interpretation of
Nature, p. 191, for the geographical use of nature in Milton.
84
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
finest example of this device is in the lines descriptive of
the thunder re-echoed among the mountains.¹
In this passage
Geographical
romance
the impression of sublimity is due to the suggestions
of mysterious elemental forces subtly associated with
such names as Carnarvon, Penmanmaur, Snowden,
Thule, and Cheviot. This mental following of the thunder from
peak to distant peak, this endeavor to strengthen the impres-
sion by the use of the remote and the unknown, show a mind set
toward romantic rather than classical ideals.
A further indication of Thomson's defiance of limits is his
curiosity. His mind goes back of the present fact and rest-
lessly strives after causes and origins.³ In imagination he seeks
Intellectual
curiosity
to penetrate to the vast eternal springs from which
nature refreshes the earth.4 The most poetic
example of this questioning spirit is in his address
to the winds that blow with boisterous sweep to swell the terrors
of the storm.
“In what far-distant region of the sky,
Hush'd in deep silence, sleep you when 'tis calm ? "5
The classical spirit held itself to useful questions that could
have some rational answer. It is the romantic spirit that pushes
its inquiries into the realms of the unknowable.
Throughout this study of Thomson's work there has been an
implicit recognition of his strong love for nature. This fact
receives further definite confirmation from his
Personal enthu- letters. It is interesting to note that his early
siasm for nature
life was almost as fortunate in its environment as
Wordsworth's. When he was a year old his father moved to
Southdean, a small hamlet near Jedborough. Here the lad
remained till he entered the University at Edinburgh at
fifteen, and here he apparently passed most of his vacations
6
¹ Summer, 1161–1168.
2 Cf. Wordsworth: To Joanna, 54-65.
3 Winter, 714-716; Spring, 849-852.
4 Autumn, 773-776.
5 Winter, 116-117.
6 In 1720 there appeared in the Edinburgh Miscellany, a poem entitled,
*
NATURE IN POETRY OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 85
:
ན་
till he went to London at twenty-five. One of his especial friends
was Dr. Cranston of Ancrum, whose love of nature was equal to
his own.
Thomson's letters to Dr. Cranston, though somewhat
stilted and high-flown, show clearly the eagerness with which
they had together explored the picturesque country along the
Tiviot and its tributary streams, the Ale and the Jed. In the first
letter from London, under the date April 3, 1725, was written,
"I wish you joy of the spring." In September of the same year
Thomson wrote from Barnet:
"Now I imagine you seized with a fine romantic kind of
melancholy on the fading of the year; now I figure you
wandering, philosophical and pensive 'midst the brown, with-
er'd groves, while the leaves rustle under your feet, the sun
gives a farewell parting gleam, and the birds
'Stir the faint note and but attempt to sing.'
"Then again when the heavens wear a more gloomy aspect,
the winds whistle, and the waters spout, I see you in the well-
known cleugh, beneath the solemn arch of tall, thick embower-
ing trees, listening to the amusing lull of the many steep, moss-
grown cascades, while deep, divine contemplation, the genius of
the place, prompts each swelling awful thought. I am sure you
would not resign your place in that scene at any easy rate. None
ever enjoyed it to the height you do, and you are worthy of it:
There I walk in spirit and disport in its beloved gloom. This
country I am in is not very entertaining; no variety but that of
woods, and them we have in abundance; but where is the living
stream? the airy mountain? or the hanging rock ? with twenty
other things that elegantly please the lover of nature.
delights me in every form."
Nature
Later in life Thomson was more fat than bard beseems,"
"On a Country Life by a Student in the University." The poem is interest-
ing as being Thomson's first poetical treatment of the theme which he was after-
wards to adopt. The verse is in somewhat stiff and formal heroic couplets, and
the poem is marked by classicisms. But there are lines and phrases sugges-
tive of Thomson's later work and the plan and general tone are, as Sir Harris
Nicholas has pointed out, strongly suggestive of The Seasons.
poet's love of country life is quite clearly genuine.
The young
+
:
#
86
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
х
་
and correspondingly indolent, and his biographers give the
impression that no beauty of the world about him could compete
with the charms of an easy chair. But his letters still bear witness
to a love of nature as real if not as active as that of his youth.
In July, 1743, he wrote to Mr. Lyttleton promising to spend
some weeks with him at Hagley.
"As this will fall in Autumn, I shall like it the better, for I
think that season of the year the most pleasing and the most
poetical. The spirits are not then dissipated with the gaiety of
spring, and the glaring light of summer, but composed into a
serious and tempered joy. The year is perfect.
The
muses, whom you obligingly say I shall bring with me, I shall
find with you—the muses of the great, simple country, not the
little, fine-lady muses of Richmond Hill.”
Again four or five years later, he wrote to Paterson, "Retire-
ment and nature are more and more my passion every
day."
This passion for nature finds frequent expression in the poems,
but no citation of specific instances can be so convincing as the
general impression of unforced personal enthusiasm made upon
the reader of The Seasons. Moreover, Thomson's conception of
the effect of nature on man, the next topic, may he fairly counted
as but a transcript from his own experience, and therefore as
further illustrative of his love for nature.
In The Seasons as in preceding poetry both man and nature
have a place, but there is a great transfer of
the relation be-
tween man and
nature
His thought of emphasis. Nature had been ignored or counted
as the servant, the background, the accompani-
ment of man. Now the human incidents are
few and unimportant and are used chiefly to lay
additional stress by their tone on the spirit characteristic of each
'Cf. also remarks in Preface to second, third, and fourth editions of Winter:
"I know no subject more elevating, more amusing; more ready to awake the
poetical enthusiasm, the philosophical reflection, and the moral sentiment,
than the works of Nature. Where can we meet with such variety, such
beauty, such magnificence? All that enlarges and transports the soul? What
more inspiring than a calm, wide survey of them?"
•
NATURE IN POETRY OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 87
season.
Nature is loved and studied and described purely for
her own sake. There is very little use of natural facts as similes
for human qualities, and there is, practically, no use of pathetic
fallacy. The effect of nature on the man sensitive to her high
ministration is represented as twofold. In the first place and
chiefly, she storms his senses with her ravishing delights. She
gives him pleasures of the most rich and varied sort. She
enchants him with color and harmony and perfume. These pleas-
ures are, however, of the eye and ear. They do not touch the
deeper joys of the heart. Of the appeal of nature to the soul
of man, in the true Wordsworthian sense, Thomson knew little.
Yet occasional passages indicate that he had received from nature
gifts higher than that of mere external, sensuous enjoyment.
He attributes to nature in at least a partially Wordsworthian
sense, the power of soothing, elevating, and instructing. He
sings the "infusive force" of spring on man,
When heaven and earth as if contending vie
To raise his being, and serene his soul."
It is his delight to "meditate the book of nature" for thence he
hopes to "learn the moral song." At the soft evening hour, he
“lonely loves
To seek the distant hills, and there converse
With nature, there to harmonize his heart." 3
Not only does he attend to Nature's voice from month to month,
and watch with admiration her every shape, but he
"Feels all her sweet emotions at his heart." 4
While these and a few other similar passages would hardly be
remarked in the poetry of nature after Wordsworth, they are of
great historical importance because they show the early begin-
ning of that spirit which received its final and perfect expression
seventy years later in The Lyrical Ballads.
Thomson's two dominant conceptions in his thought of God
'Spring, 868-874.
2 Autumn, 670–672. Cf. Wordsworth: The Tables Turned, st. 6.
3 Summer, 1380-1382.
+ Autumn, 1309.
3
K
x
i
i
?
88
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
and Nature were the almighty Creator and the ever-active Ruler.
The whole tenor of his poems goes to show that
His thought of he saw in nature not God himself but God's
God in nature hand. Even his invocations to nature, animate
and inanimate, to praise God in one general
song of adoration, are but highly emotional and figurative
statements of the conception that God is not all, but Lord
of all. Now and then, however, in the midst of the old
ideas there comes the breath of a new thought. In one line
we find the cold, conventional idea, in the next, an intima-
tion of divine immanence. God's beauty walks forth in
the spring. His spirit breathes in the gales. The seasons "are
but the varied God." God is the Universal Soul of Heaven and
earth. He is the Essential Presence in all nature.¹ Such sen-
tences as these, whether uttered consciously, or half uncon-
sciously under the influence of poetic excitement, clearly pre-
figure the modern conception of the union and interpenetration
of the physical and spiritual worlds.
His affiliations
with the classi-
cal spirit
Of the two general points to be kept in view in the study of
Thomson as a poet of nature the second was a consideration of
his affiliations with the classical spirit. It is sur-
prising to observe in how few respects such affili-
ations can be justly predicated. There are occa-
sional references to his Doric reed, and frequent
invocations to his muse. As preliminary justification of his
choice of themes are quotations from Virgil and Horace. The
authority of the "Rural Maro" and the example of Cincinnatus
lend added dignity to the English plow. Personifications of the
conventional type often appear. There is one purely didactic
description of the cure for a pest of insects, and another descrip-
tion of the method by which bees are robbed of their honey,
that are evidently framed on Latin models. Nor do we miss the
ever recurring advice to read the page of the Mantuan swain
beneath a spreading tree on a warm noon.
We also find that toward mountains and the sea Thomson
held almost the traditional attitude. His nearness to the coast
'Compare Pope's rhetorical statement of the same speculative conception.
་
.
NATURE IN POETRY OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 89
I
and his knowledge of shore birds show that he could not have
been entirely ignorant of the ocean, but it apparently made little
impression on him, for he seldom mentions it even casually, and
but once with any emphasis. It is then one of the elements of a
wild, fierce storm that sweeps the coast. A few of his epithets
for mountains, as "keen-air'd" and "forest-rustling," are new
though not especially felicitous, and he often mentions mountains
by name, or as bounding some distant prospect. But in general
his conception and his phraseology are those of his contempo-
raries. He speaks of the Alps as "dreadful," as "horrid, vast,
sublime," and again as "horrid mountains."
“horrid mountains." There is nowhere
any evidence of the modern feeling towards mountains, though
there are frequent expressions of appreciative love for green hills.
66
The point in which Thomson shows strongest traces of the
old influence is his diction. He often has the new thought before
he has found the appropriate dress for it. Birds are still the
"plumy" or "feathery people," and fish are the "finny race."
Shaggy" and "nodding" are used of mountains and rocks
and forests, and 'deformed" and "inverted" of winter, in
true classical fashion. "Maze" is one of his most frequent
words. "Horrid" still holds a useful place. "Amusing" is
five times applied to the charms of some landscape. Leaves are
the "honours" of trees, paths are erroneous," caverns "sweat,"
and all sorts of things are "innumerous.” He also makes large
use of Latinized words such as turgent, bibulous, relucent, lucu-
lent, irriguous, gelid, ovarious, incult, concactive, hyperborean.
These words can hardly be said to belong to any received poetic
diction. They are rather a mannerism of Thomson's style, and
an outgrowth of his delight in swelling, sounding phrases.
66
From this summary we at once perceive how few and compar-
atively unimportant were the characteristics held in common
by Thomson and the classicists in their treatment of external
nature.
This study of The Seasons shows that so far as intrinsic worth
is concerned the poems are marked by a strange
Summary
mingling of merits and defects, but that, con-
sidered in their historical place in the development of the poetry
90
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY`
of nature, their importance and striking originality can hardly
be overstated. Though Thomson talked the language of
his day, his thought was a new one. He taught clearly, though
without emphasis, the power of nature to quiet the passions and
elevate the mind of man, and he intimated a deeper thought of
divine immanence in the phenomena of nature. But his
great service to the men of his day was that he shut up their
books, led them out of their parks, and taught them to look on
nature with enthusiasm. This service is of the greater historical
value because it was so well adapted to the times. To begin
with, it was a necessary first step. People cannot love what
they do not know. Lead them to nature, teach them to
observe with amazement and delight, and the other steps fol-
low in due course in accordance with the power of each soul
to receive the deeper influences of nature. In the second
place, men were just ready to take this first decisive step
away from the artificial to the natural. The work of the poets
who immediately preceded Thomson had been too slight and frag-
mentary to count for much in the way of influence, yet they were
most clear indications of a tendency, a silent preparation of the
general poetic mind, for such work as Thomson's. He was at
once and easily understood because, while his poems in their
spontaneous freshness and charm, their rich, easy fullness of
description, their minute observation, their sweep of view, their
unforced enthusiasm, must have come as a revelation, it was a
revelation in no sense defiant or iconoclastic. In the main it was
a revelation of new delights, not of disturbing theories, or vex-
ing problems. A touch more of subtlety, of vision, of mystery,
of the faculty divine, and Thomson might have waited for recog-
nition as Wordsworth did.
John Dyer
1700?-1758
John Dyer's more ambitious poems, The Ruins of Rome (1740)
and The Fleece (1757), belong to a much later period than the
present. Of these the first may be passed over as
containing hardly a touch of nature. The second
is a long didactic poem showing much technical
knowledge of sheep-raising, weaving, dyeing, and home and
foreign trade. It has frequent panegyrics of liberty and sim-
NATURE IN POETRY OF THE eighteenth CENTURY 91
·
plicity. It abounds with geographical details, and is notable as
having so many full and often exact descriptive references to
the rivers of Great Britain. The Avon, the Severn, the Thames,
the Towy, the Vaga, the Ryddol, the Yftwith, the Clevedoc, the
Lune, the Coker, the Ouze, and the Usk are chief among these.
He is apparently always conscious of the rivers, rills, streams, or
waterfalls in any landscape. But in general the poem is conven-
tional in diction,' in the choice of similitudes, and in the occa
sional descriptions. Its use of geographical details, though
sometimes suggestive and stimulating, as in the lines,
'Tempestuous regions, Darwent's naked peaks,
Snowden and blue Plynlymmon and the wide
Aërial sides of Cader-yddris huge,"2
It is true of Dyer, as it was of
is more often simply wearisome.
Thomson, that his really excellent poetry of nature was written
when he was fresh from long and familiar knowledge of nature
in her wilder forms, and that travel and contact with men served
to dull the power of these early experiences. Grongar Hill and
The Country Walk were published the same year as Thomson's
Winter, and were doubtless written the year before. They could
not have been in any sense due to the impetus given by Thomson
to the study of nature. They are rather an original and inde-
pendent contribution toward the same end. They were the
expression of personal experience, and the direct outcome of
native taste and singularly fortunate environment. Dyer's life
before his school days at Westminster was spent in the wild and
romantic country in Caermarthenshire, and during the years
immediately preceding the publication of these two poems he
was wandering through other parts of South Wales as an "itiner-
ant painter." His previous study with Richardson had helped
to develop that artistic sensitiveness to external impressions so
apparent in his early work. He notes the colors and shapes of the
trees grouped below him, the gloomy pine and sable yew, the blue
poplar, the yellow beech, the fir with its slender, tapering trunk,
'Dyer uses almost as many words ending in "y" as Ambrose Philips.
Stenchy, towery, framy, sleeky, thready, copsy, spiry, are illustrative.
-
2 The Fleece, 1:193.
92
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
!
the sturdy oak with its broad-spread boughs. The changing
horizon line as he climbs the hill, the long level lines of the
lawn, the various movements of rivers running swift or slow,
through sun and shade, the streaks of meadow, the close, small
lines of distant hedges, the curling spires of smoke, are observa-
tions that show. the trained eye.' His colors seem to be rather
carefully discriminated. Yellow receives unusual emphasis. The
linnet's yellow plumage, the yellow foliage of the beech, the
mountain-tops shining yellow in the sun, and even the "yellow
barn" catch his eye. This preference for yellow characterizes
his later work. He speaks of "yellow corn," "yellow tillages,"
"yellowing plains," and the "yellow Tiber." He also liked the.
words "golden" and "sunny." Purple is applied to evening
and to the groves at evening, and seems to be used with some
real sense of the modern specific meaning of the word. In later
work the color purple became almost a stock epithet with him;
"Purple Eve
Stretches her shadows,'
"When many-colour'd Evening sinks behind
The purple woods and hills,"3
"The purple skirts of flying day,"4
When evening mild
Purples the valleys," 5
Wide abroad
Expands the purple deep,"
116
are typical phrases. He also notices the "thousand flaming
flowers" in the fields, the silver and gold of the morning clouds,
the shining of lakes, the evening colors reflected in slow streams,
and the soft fair hues of distant mountain summits. He delights
'In Observations on the River Wye, by William Gilpin, pp. 103-108,
Dyer's Grongar Hill is, however, criticised for not accurately representing dis-
tance. The grove must be distant if it can be rightfully called purple, but the
castle beyond it "is touched with all the strength of a foreground; you see the
very ivy creeping upon the walls."
2 Fleece, 1:577.
3 Fleece, 2:55.
4 Fleece, 2:10.
5 Fleece, 2:518.
6 Fleece, 2:241.
NATURE IN POETRY OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 93
;
Not
in the sounds of nature, especially in the songs of birds.
for many years after Dyer is there so effective a bit of bird-song
poetry as the closing lines of Grongar Hill. Nor is he indiffer-
ent to odors, for he notes the perfumed breeze from the valley,
the fragrant brakes, and the sweet smelling honeysuckle. It is
worthy of note that in these two short poems nearly a hundred
natural facts are mentioned.
In this wide observation Dyer includes some features not
hitherto counted as parts of a poetic landscape. The "windy
summit wild and high," naked rocks, and barren ground, are
mingled with the softer details, and
'Each gives each a double charm.”
He nowhere dwells upon mountains in his descriptions, but
the slight touches here and there and the general tone of the
poems are sufficient to show his great delight in mountain scenery.
He represents himself as climbing slowly and looking back often
so as not to miss a single phase of the view unfolding before
him. Once on the top he gazes out over the lovely prospect and
exclaims,
Now, even now, my joys run high
As on the mountain turf I lie."
In The Fleece are further indications of this love of mountains
and wide views. The passage beginning
is typical.
"Huge Breaden's stony summit once I climbed"
"Those slow-climbing wilds, that lead the step
Insensibly to Dover's windy cliff,
and
Tremendous height!
"By the blue steeps of distant Malvern walled,
Solemnly vast."3
have something of the modern touch.
The prevailing interest in these poems is in nature, but there
are one or two charming pictures of homely life. The old man's
hut and garden on the edge of the wood, and the barnyard scene are
The Fleece, 1:555.
3 The Fleece, 1:59.
2 The Fleece, 1: 41.
"
4
94
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
1.
as attractive as they are realistic. And surely the tattered old man
digging up cabbage in the shade might have been expected
to wait at least for Crabbe or Wordsworth to introduce him into
the select company of the Muses. The same may be said of the
tramp asleep by the roadside.'
In any tabulation Dyer's use of nature would seem to be much
more abundant than it is for in The Fleece he of necessity used a
large number of geographical details merely to mark out localities
and with no more literary quality than there would be on a map.
His chief use of nature is twofold, and is best seen in the short
poems, Grongar Hill and The Country Walk. He describes a
landscape with loving minuteness for its own sake, and he regards
it as the occasion for a strain of half-melancholy reflection on
human life. This gentle, quaintly precise moralizing is unlike
the typical classical didacticism in that it seems to spring inev-
itably from the effect of natural objects on the poet's mind,
instead of being itself the main thing and laboriously illustrated
by such natural facts as came to hand.
The
The entire impression made by the two poems is that they
were written by one who knew nature better then books.
negative as well as the positive qualities of the poem show this.
There are almost no conventional phrases. Of the personified
abstract qualities, two at least, Pleasure and Quiet, are so imagi-
natively conceived as not to belong to the category of cold classi-
cal personifications. The only classical allusion is significant as
being to the "fair Castalian springs" deserted now by all but
'slavish hinds.'3 But the poems show something more than first-
hand as opposed to bookish knowledge of nature. Their author
evidently loved to linger over the charms of nature in solitude,
to let them sink into his mind and heart. There is a power of
quiet contemplation, of "wise passiveness," such as Thomson
never knew. The closing lines of Grongar Hill,
I The Country Walk, 86-99; 33-40.
2 He calls the sun "Phoebus" and "Apollo;" he occasionally uses such
words as swain, bloomy, sylvan, verdant, flowery; and he speaks of "the wan-
ton zephyr ;" and he refers to a grove as the "haunt of Phyllis."
3 The Country Walk, 11. 58-63.
L
L
NATURE IN POETRY OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 95
"Be full, ye courts; be great who will;
Search for Peace with all your skill:
Open wide the lofty door,
Seek her on the marble floor,
In vain you search, she is not there;
In vain ye search the domes of care!
Grass and flowers Quiet treads,
On the meads, and mountain heads,
Along with Pleasure, close-ally'd,
Ever by each other's side:
And often, by the murmuring rill,
Hears the thrush, while all is still,
Within the groves of Grongar Hill,"
show a wonderfully true and delicate apprehension of the spirit-
ual influences that speak through nature's forms. It is putting
into plainer words what was the underlying conception in Par-
nell's Hymn to Contentment.
As has been observed, Dyer speedily left his first love and
devoted himself to laborious, didactic blank verse. We cannot
find that his two short poems attracted much attention at the
time. Thomson's glory blazed forth so effulgently that lesser
lights were but dimly seen. Now, however, as we go from poet
to poet of the period, we cannot fail to be impressed by the unu-
sual sincerity, simplicity, and truth with which Dyer wrote of nature.
And we feel that while he lacked Thomson's power and fertility,
he was quite equal to him in originality, and superior to him in
delicacy.
David Mallet
(1705 (?)-1765)
David Mallet's chief poems in which there is use of external
nature are A Fragment, The Excursion, and Amyntor and Theo-
dora. The undated A Fragment reads like a poetical
exercise in the style of Dyer's The Country Walk
and Grongar Hill. The octosyllabic verse, the
general plan of a walk at different times of day, the ascent of
a hill for the view, the pleasure in the solitude of nature, the mor-
alizing invocations to Health and Freedom, are all suggestive of
Dyer. The description of the noontide woodland retreat, of the
forest sounds, and of the poet's revery are like passages in The
1
96
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
Country Walk, while both the spirit and form of some passages
in Grongar Hill are paralleled by such lines as,
"On the brow of mountain high
In silence feasting ear and eye,"
or
"And then at utmost stretch of
eye
A mountain fades into the sky;
While winding round, diffused and deep,
A river rolls with sounding sweep."
112
The Excursion and Amyntor and Theodora are interesting
because of their relation to the work of Thomson. Thomson and
Mallet were students together at Edinburgh, and there was evi-
dently a close literary comradeship between them which lasted
through the first years of their London life. During the sum-
mer of 1726 they were both engaged in literary work, the result
of which was, on Thomson's part, Summer, and on Mallet's, about
300 lines of the first canto of The Excursion.³ There was a vig-
orous interchange of letters concerning the two poems, each
author giving advice and criticism on the passages sent him by
the other. A comparison of the poems shows numerous resem-
blances. As an illustration we may take the sunrise with which
each poem opens. The order of occurrences is the same in each—
night, faint gleams in the east, breaking clouds, rising mists, re-
treat of wild animals, song of birds, work of shepherds, full ris-
ing of sun, praise to God, reflections on the inspiration to be
gained from nature. There are also many curious verbal similar-
ities. In Thomson the meek-eyed Morn, mother of dews, comes
faint-gleaming in the east to destroy night's doubtful empire, and
before the lustre of her face the clouds break white away. In Mallet
sacred Morn pale-glimmering comes with dewy radiance through
the doubtful twilight and spreads a whitening lustre over the sky.
In Thomson the powerful King of Day looks in boundless maj-
esty abroad.
In Mallet the King of Glory looks abroad on nature.
I Cf. Grongar Hill, 1. 137.
2 Cf. The Country Walk, 1. 120.
3 Thomson to Mallet, Sept. 1726.
4 Thomson's Letters to Mallet in 1726.
<
NATURE IN POETRY OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 97
I
These are but suggestions of the many unmistakable but baffling
and intricately interwoven similarities in the two poems.
If we
had but these two poems it would be, perhaps, impossible to say
which poet exerted the stronger influence. Thomson's deference
to Mallet's judgment is evident. Winter was submitted to him for
correction, and the splendid passage on precious stones in Sum-
mer was an addition proposed by him. Thomson also greatly
admired Mallet's work.³ Thomson's work, on the other hand, bears
the impress of a genuine enthusiasm and a many-sided personal
experience, while Mallet's work reads like that of a facile versi-
sifier speaking out of a meager experience and with a forced
enthusiasm. At any rate, when we come to Amyntor and Theodora,
published years after the full edition of The Seasons, Mallet is
clearly imitative in thought and phrase. The ocean, for instance,
is described as "through boundless space diffused, magnificently
dreadful." Again it is "diffused immense," and "magnificently
various."
In its depths "immeasurably sunk," "ten thousand
thousand tribes endless range." Its stormy waves are "mountains
surging to the stars, commotion infinite" and they break in
"boundless undulation." Storms are presaged by "doubling
clouds on clouds." The earth glows with "the boundless blush of
spring." At sunset the sea shines with an unbounded blush.'
A comparison of these phrases with those quoted from Thomson
on pages 82 and 83 will serve to show in how exaggerated and
inartistic a form Thomson's mannerisms reappeared in the later
work of Mallet. Mallet's work, if it had been first in the field,
would have marked a distinct advance in the conception of nature.
As it is he is of real importance as indicating the influence of
Dyer, and especially of Thomson.
CC
""
Richard Savage's The Wanderer appeared in 1729. Of this
poem Dr. Johnson says that it was never denied
to abound with strong representations of nature,”
but a study of the five long, confused, formless can-
tos hardly confirms such an opinion. Most of the descriptions,
Richard Savage
(1698-1743)
* Letter to Mallet, July 10, 1725.
2 Letter to Mallet, Aug. 2, 1726.
3 Letters to Mallet, June 13 and July 10, 1726.
98
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
;
like those of Mallet's Excursion, are of scenes too remote for
damaging comparisons with the reality, as of sunrise at the north
pole, or of wide prospects from unknown mounts. The various
details are brought together with little sense of unity. He called
the poem a vision, and he had perhaps a right to dream-like com-
binations of facts, but the result is not a contribution to the study
of external nature. His diction is vague and inexpressive.
There is large use of stock poetic words, and there are many
Thomsonian echoes. Most of the descriptions are tame, classical
imitations. They show almost no first-hand knowledge of the
country. There is, however, one characteristic of his poetry that
cannot fail to arrest the attention, and that is his use of color. Not
even Thomson is so lavish with bright tints, and they are some-
times nicely discriminated. Illustrative passages are referred to
in the note.' He observes the color of "crooked, sunny roads”
that change "from brown, to sandy-red, and chalky hues." He
perceives the “green grass yellowing into hay." His sunset sky
has several colors that had not been noted in poetry. Some of
the clouds had "the unripen'd cherry's die;" others were "mild
vermilion," "streaked through white," and there was in the sky
a tinge of "floating green," the result of the "blue veil'd yellow'
of certain distant clouds. In a moonrise picture there are
eight colors, besides twelve words indicative of brightness,
and that in a description of thirteen lines. The best of these
descriptions is that of the peas and beans in blossom. Refer-
ences such as those to the peas that with their "mixed flowers of
red and azure” run in "colour'd lanes along the furrows," and to
the beans that after a rain "fresh blossom in a speckled flower"
bear the mark of first-hand observation. The same may be said
of his brief touches descriptive of the roads and the fields and
the sunset sky already referred to. There is also fairly abundant
reference to birds, though but a single line,
"The bullfinch whistles soft his flute-like note,"
¹ Cf. The Wanderer, 5:237, 238 (roads); 5:253–268 (fields and bushes);
5:230-235 (sunset); 5:363-374 (the rainbow); 4:59-63 (morning); 3:15-27
(moonrise); 5:8, 15-20 (foliage and flowers); 5:203-210 (bean fields); 1:195-198
winter landscape); 4:85-96 (sunrise).
NATURE IN POETRY OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 99
exhibits any special felicity in expression. On the whole, Savage
is important in the history of the poetry of nature merely for his
detailed insistence on color.
Stephen Duck
(1705-1756)
Among the minor poets of this period was Stephen Duck. He
spent most of his life on a farm where he early began to write
verses which attracted much local attention and
finally gained for their author substantial favor at
Court. His Thresher's Labour is interesting simply
because it is a realistic treatment of a homely English theme.'
Duck's poems were popular in their own day, but his treatment
of nature is commonplace.
The poetry of these four years is interesting because it indicates
how early Thomson's influence made itself felt, as in the work of
Mallet and Savage; and also because it shows a use of nature
quite unlike Thomson's and is equally significant of coming tend-
encies, as in the work of Dyer.
THE POETS BETWEEN 1730 AND 1756.
The choice of 1756 as the date to mark the close of this
period is based on the appearance in that year of Joseph War-
ton's Essay on Pope. In the twenty-six years between Thomson's
Seasons and this Essay, the most important literary works are
in prose, as the novels of Fielding, Richardson, and Smollett,
and the theological writings of Butler, Hume, and Warburton.
The period is marked by the establishment of numerous periodi-
cals, by the work of editors, and of compilers. The most impor-
tant poetry of the period was the Essay on Man, Moral Essays,
and The Dunciad by Pope. In writing of this sort there is, of
course, little use of external nature. And it has already been
shown that the tragedies of Thomson and the later work of
Armstrong, Mallet, and Dyer which appeared during these years,
either ignore nature or treat it in a stiff or simply imitative man-
But there are in the twenty-six years poems that are not
only in accord with the changing attitude toward nature, but that
distinctly aid in the evolution of the new conception. The chief
I In 1730 appeared a parody entitled The Thresher's Miscellany by "Arthur
Duck."
ner.
•
Uor M
ΙΟΟ
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
1
names are Somerville, Shenstone, Greene, Collins, Young, Aken-
side, Gray, and the Wartons. There are other authors whose
works are not, as a whole, of importance in this study, but who
have written single poems of some significance. Some of these
minor poets are Boyse, Smart, Cawthorne, Jago, Whitehead, Dr.
Dalton, Thompson, Mendez, Potter, Relph, Coventry, Mason,
Cooper, and Dodsley.
Somerville, "a country gentleman and a skillful and useful
Justice of the Peace," was a mighty hunter in his day, and found,
in leisure hours, great pleasure in throwing into
William blank verse the accumulated wisdom of years in
Somerville
the field. The Chace he calls his "bold, instruct-
(1692-1742)
ive song," and it so well carries out the second
epithet as to be of interest only to his "brethren of the
couples" to whose kindness he commends it. There is the
most minute description of the kinds of hounds, the breeding
of dogs, the care of whelps, their habits, their diseases and the
best remedies, and the most desirable kennels. In Field Sports
we have almost as close a description of hawking.
are, however, destitute of any real love of nature.
except for a free use of canine technicalities, is extremely limited
and commonplace; and we look in vain for the occasional happy
touch, the felicitous epithet or line, that would indicate any
original or appreciative knowledge of the external world. When
this vigorous squire went out to hunt he had eyes but for the
dogs and the game. His few descriptions are of the conven-
tional type, as:
Both poems.
The diction,
Hail, gentle Dawn! mild, blushing goddess, hail !
Rejoic'd I see thy purple mantle spread
O'er half the skies, gems pave thy radiant way,
And orient pearls from every shrub depend."
They are weak imitations, lifeless and vague. Hobbinol is
is a
disagreeable poem. Its very ugly rural pictures might perhaps
rank as realistic studies of English country life, but so far as any
country atmosphere is concerned they are of no importance.
I The Chace, 2:79–82.
Maou
NATURE IN POETRY OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 101
The smock-race, the wrestling match, the drunken affray, might as
'well have taken place in any city slums.
Somerville had a Catholic taste in poetry. He greatly admired
Homer, Virgil, Pope, Allan Ramsay, and Thomson. The last
poet he not only admired, but imitated. The passage begin-
ning,
Justly supreme! let us thy power revere,
is a pretty clear echo from Thomson's Hymn, and the closing
twenty-five lines of The Chace must have been studied from the
closing twenty-two lines of Autumn. Somerville is noteworthy
in the present study only because he wrote on country themes,
and imitated Thomson.
Shenstone is a much more important figure in the history of
the poetry of nature. His sensitiveness to the new spirit and his
1
William
Shenstone
(1714-1763)
reverence for the old form make him an interesting
transitional influence. His Prefatory Essay on
Elegy shows this Janus attitude and, what is more,
his own consciousness of it. "If the author has
hazarded throughout the use of English or modern allusions, he
hopes it will not be imputed to an entire ignorance, or to the
least disesteem, of the ancient learning. He has kept the ancient
plan and method in his eye, though he builds his edifice with the
materials of his own nation. In other words, through a fond-
ness for his native country he has made use of the flowers it pro-
duced, though, in order to exhibit them to the greater advantage,
he has endeavored to weave his garland by the best model he
could find."² This statement is interesting as being directly
opposed to the thought in Gay's experiment. Both poets mean
to hold by the Latin form and use English materials, the one to
show that the two are incompatible, the other to show that they
may be united.
Neither Gay nor Shenstone thought of discard-
¹ To the Right Honorable Lady Anne Coventry.
2 An excellent example is Nancy of the Vale which takes as its model,
Nerine Galatea! thymo mihi dulcior Hyblae!
Candidior cygnis! hedera formosior alba,"
but compares Nancy to the "wild-duck's tender young," to the water-lily on
Avon's side, her eyes to the azure plume of the halcyon, etc.
>
102
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
".
ing the Latin form. In the same Essay he claims that in his use
of nature he has drawn only on personal experience. "If he
describes a rural landskip, or unfolds the train of sentiments it
inspired, he fairly drew his picture from the spot; and felt very
sensibly the affection he communicates. If he speaks of his
humble shed, his flocks and his fleeces, he does not counterfeit
the scene; who having (whether through choice or necessity, is
not material) retired betimes to country solitudes, and sought his
happiness in rural employments, has a right to consider himself
as a real shepherd. The flocks, the meadows and the grottos are
his own, and the embellishment of his farm his sole amusement.
As the sentiments, therefore, were inspired by nature, and that in
the earlier part of his life, he hopes they will retain a natural
appearance." This plea for first-hand observation is important
because it is the most direct of the early critical remarks on the
poetical treatment of nature.
Shenstone's delight in nature was evidently genuine. He
grants that men may be dazzled by the city;
"But soon the pageant fades away!
'Tis nature only bears perpetual sway,'
and they learn again
"the simple, the sincere delight ·
Th' habitual scene of hill and dale,
The rural herds, the vernal gale,
The tangled vetch's purple bloom,
The fragrance of the bean's perfume."
I
He speaks with scorn of those "bounded souls" who enjoy in
nature only the satisfaction of present needs, or the prospect of
future gain, and who can not on "the mere landscape" feast
their eyes, and apostrophizes them thus:
"
Athirst ye praise the limpid stream, 'tis true:
But though, the pebbled shores among,
It mimic no unpleasing song,
The limpid fountain murmurs not for you.
¹ Rural Elegance, st. 20.
2Rural Elegance, st. 19.
**
NATURE IN POETRY OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 103
Unpleas'd ye see the thickets bloom,
Unpleas'd the spring her flowery robe resume;
Unmov'd the mountain's airy pile,
The dappled mead without a smile.”
But to the true lover of nature,
"Lo! not an hedge-row hawthorn blows,
Or humble harebell paints the plain,
Or valley winds, or fountain flows,
Or purple heath is ting'd in vain :
For such the rivers dash the foaming tides,
The mountain swells, the dale subsides;
Ev'n thriftless furze detains their wandering sight,
And the rough, barren rock grows pregnant with delight."'
Shenstone also defends the doctrine that beauty is its own excuse
for being.
"Let yon admir'd carnation own,
Not all was meant for raiment, or for food,
Not all for needful use alone."2
Though Shenstone's work is often undeniably tame and
diffuse, and though his interests were bounded by his farm, he is
of significance because of his thorough enjoyment of quiet
country places, his indignant rejection of the utilitarian view of
nature, and his courageous plea for truth to English scenes.
Matthew Green
(1696-1737)
Green's chief poem, The Spleen, was published in 1737, after
his death. The subject is not one that would lead to much use
of nature, but there is at least one picture that
can not be passed over.³ In his sketch of the
ideal life he describes his ideal home. Its sur-
roundings are most charming and natural, and
the whole scene, in its unity and reality of effect, contrasts well
with such fanciful combinations as the garden in Tickell's To a
Lady Before Marriage. One line in this description,
"Brown fields their fallow sabbaths keep,"
is remarkable in that, in so few words, it not only presents a
¹ Rural Elegance, st. 4, 5, 6, 8.
2 Rural Elegance, st. 16.
3 The Spleen, ll. 646–687.
4 The Spleen, l. 681.
104
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
complete picture, but also awakens the feeling that would be
excited by the scene itself.
William
Hamilton
(1704-1754)
Hamilton's chief use of nature is in gentle little allegories of
life. The Rhone and the Arar, though a description of two
rivers, is obviously didactic in all its details.
Spring, summer, and winter in Ode III. are but
"moral shows," spread out for man's instruc-
tion. Though Hamilton's scenes are usually of
the soft, delicious, vaguely pleasing sort, and his diction largely
classical, yet now and then in his rather monotonous spring
poetry we find a fresh line or phrase, as when he comments on
spring's gift of beauty to "each nameless field." He finds joy
in the prickly briar rose, the bright-colored weed, the lion's
yellow tooth, in a thousand flowers never sowed by art.' He is
filled with gratitude as he looks upon the smiling face of nature
and the radiant glories of the sky, or listens to the music of
the opening year. In Contemplation he exclaims,
2
"Mark how Nature's hand bestows
Abundant grace on all that grows,
Tinges, with pencil slow unseen,
The grass that clothes the valley green ;
Or spreads the tulip's parted streaks."
More distinctive, however, than this love of the spring-time
world, is Hamilton's sense of communion with nature.
lines,
"As on this flowering turf I lie,
My soul conversing with the sky,"
and this address to the passions that tyrannize over him,
This grove annihilates you all.
Oh power unseen, yet felt, appear!
Sure something more than nature's here."
The
are new evidences of the spirit that animated Lady Winchelsea,
Dyer, and Parnell.
Hamilton's most important poem is The Braes of Yarrow.
The Epistle of the Thistle.
2 Contemplation.
NATURE IN POETRY OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 105
i
In this ballad there is a remarkable blending of external nature
with the tragedy of love and death. The use of the phrase, "the
Braes of Yarrow," in the refrain adds a curiously subtle touch to
the pathos of the poem. Tradition had so closely associated
the sloping hills and the winding stream of Yarrow with stories
of unhappy love in far off days that the name was in itself
enough to strike the keynote of pathos in Hamilton's ballad.
The tone or color that human experience had once given to the
scenery was carried on by that scenery so that it became the
appropriate background for a new tale of grief. The one
descriptive stanza,
"Sweet smells the birk, green grows, green grows the grass,
Yellow on Yarrow's banks the gowan,
Fair hangs the apple frae the rock,
Sweet the wave of Yarrow flowan;"
and a single line in the maiden's lament,
“I sang, my voice the woods returning,”
are an appropriate setting for the happy love of the bonny bride
and her comely swain. But nature is also compelled, as it were,
to share in the grief, and is implicated in the crime. On Yar-
row's rueful flood floats the body of the slain knight; her dole-
ful hills echo the cries of sorrow. And the desolate bride prays
that rain and dew may forever forsake the fields where her lover
was so basely slain.
The descriptive element in Hamilton's ballad is of further
interest as having suggested some of the details in Wordsworth's
Yarrow Unvisited.
The Deity, a poem by Samuel Boyse, and much praised in its
own day, is of importance here merely because of its Thom-
sonian imitations, and because of its conception.
of God in nature. This conception is, in the
main, the typical classical one, as in "Omnipo-
Samuel Boyse
(1708-1749)
tence,” where the central idea is,
"What hand, Almighty Architect, but thine
Could give the model of this vast design?”
See Hervey: Meditations, II, 239. Fielding: Tom Jones, VII, ch. 1.
•
·
..
?
106
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
In "Providence," however, the modified classical conception is
apparent, the ever-working power of God. being dwelt upon..
All nature is represented as being each moment derived from
the Creator.
“The sun from thy superior radiance bright
Eternal sheds his delegated light;
Thou shedd'st the tepid morning's balmy dews,"
are characteristic lines.
That Boyse was an admirer of Thomson we know from the
lines addressed to him,
'When nature first inspired thy early strain
To paint the beauties of the flowery plain;
The charming page I read with soft delight,
And every lively landskip charmed my sight.'
"" I
In reading Boyse it is difficult to point out exact echoes from
Thomson, but the impression remains that certain passages,
especially in "Glory," are, in spite of their couplets, but weak'
paraphrases of some portions of Thomson's work, noticeably
The Hymn.
Young's literary career lasted from 1712 to 1762. His
Ocean and Sea Pieces and the only book of the Night Thoughts,
in which there is much use of external nature,
Edward Young have already been briefly characterized. They need
(1681-1765) little further discussion here. The preface to
Ocean is more worthy of note than the poem itself.
In this preface Young deprecates slavish following of the models
of antiquity, declaring that "originals only have true life.". Due
deference to the great standards of antiquity requires that “ the
motives and fundamental method of their working" should be
imitated rather than the works themselves. He then defends his
choice of the ocean as a subject, saying that it is, like the subjects
chosen by the ancients, both national and great, and adds the
significant phrase, "and (what is strange) hitherto unsung." -
"The crude ore of romanticism" which Mr. Gosse finds in
Young, has to do with his despairing attitude towards
¹To Thomson on Sophonisba.
NATURE IN POETRY of the EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 107
i
life and death, not with his attitude towards external nature.
His love of darkness, which seems at first thought akin to the
sentimental melancholy of the romantic poetry, is really an
unemotional choice of a fit background for his visions of
gloom. His strongest lines on night represent not its beauty,
nor its melancholy, but its divinity, or, rather, its theological
import. The following are typical :
"Let Indians
the sun adore :
Darkness has more divinity for me;
It strikes thought inward; it drives back the soul
To settle on herself."I
"By night an atheist half-believes a God."2
At night the sense of sacred quiet is "the felt presence of the
deity." In occasional passages Young has more or less definite
previsions of scattered ideas in later poetry, but these are inci-
dental, and of merely curious interest. Taken in the bulk, his
work is so slightly and coldly concerned with the outer world as
to offer ro real contribution to the new feeling for nature.
2
' Night Thoughts, V:126–130.
Night Thoughts, V:176.
Night Thoughts, V:171.
4 See Night VI, where there is an interesting statement of the theory after-
wards expounded in Coleridge's Ode to Dejection. Compare Young's,
Objects are but th' occasion; ours th' exploit ;
Ours is the cloth, the pencil, and the paint,
Which nature's admirable picture draws,"
Night VI: 431.
with Coleridge's,
"O Lady! we receive but what we give,
And in our life alone does nature live;
Ours is her wedding garment; ours her shroud."
In the same passage by Young is the line concerning the power of our senses
that
"Half create the wondrous world they see,"
from which Wordsworth took a line in Tintern Abbey. In Satire I, 1. 24 9
there are some lines that sound absurdly like certain stanzas in Peter Bell;
"On every thorn delightful wisdom grows;
In every rill a sweet instruction flows.
108 TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
Collins possesses many of the qualities and the defects of the
romantic spirit. He made plans almost as comprehensive and
visionary as those of Coleridge. His indolence,
William Collins his wavering, irresolute disposition, his morbid sen-
(1721-1759) sitiveness, the intensity of his emotions, his love of
liberty, his passion for "high romance and Gothic
diableries," together with his new sense of the mystery of nature,
set him quite apart from the men who were his friends, from Dr.
Johnson, Armstrong, Aaron Hill, from Garrick, Quin, and Foote,
even from Thomson. His interests were not those of his day,
for his admiration turned to Eschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides;
rather than to Virgil and Horace.' In English poetry he gave
his allegiance to Spenser, Milton, and Shakespeare, rather than to
Dryden and Pope. He was devoted to music. He was also
deeply interested in the remote history of his own country, and
in the legendary lore and superstitions of any land. Dr. John-
son says of him: "He loved fairies, genii, giants, and monsters;
he delighted to rove through the meanders of enchantment, to
gaze on the magnificence of golden palaces, to repose by the
waterfalls of Elysian gardens."
Collins was a town-bred poet and could have known little of
the country at first-hand. We might therefore expect all his
imagery to be of the conventional sort in the Eclogues written in
But some, untaught, o'erhear the whispering rill,
In spite of sacred leisure, blockheads still."
The lines
"In distant wilds, by human eyes unseen,
She rears her flowers, and spreads her velvet green;
Pure gurgling rills the lonely desert trace
And waste their music on the savage race,"
Satire V:229.
come between the similar passages by Gay and Gray.
Cf. also the simile of the eagle and the serpent (Vanquished Love, Bk.
II: 226), with Shelley's Revolt of Islam, I: st. 8-10.
¹ Ode to Fear, Ode to Simplicity, An Epistle to Sir Thomas Hanmer, Ode
to Pity.
2 Ode to Fear, On the Poetical Character, Popular Superstitions, st. II,
An Epistle to Sir Thomas Hanmer.
1
1
NATURE IN POETRY OF the EightEENTH CENTURY 109
!
I
his early school days. But such is not the case. In the later
poems the use of nature, slight as it is, is marked by unusual
originality and imaginative power. There is everywhere present
a sense of delight in the wilder, freer, in the more remote and
mysterious aspects of nature. He makes Fear sit
and listen to
"in some hollow'd seat
'Gainst which the big waves beat,"
drowning seamen's cries in tempest brought."
His gifted wizard seers
" view the lurid signs that cross the sky
Where in the west the brooding tempests lie,
And hear their first, faint, rustling pennons sweep."
Note also the description of the "wide, wild storm," in the Ode
to Liberty, and especially the skillful mingling of landscape
details and superstitious terrors in the Ode on Popular Supersti-
tions. The "bewitch'd, low, marshy, willow brake," "the spot.
where hums the sedgy reed," the "dim hill that seems up-rising
near," "Uist's dark forest,' ""the watery strath or quaggy moss,"
"the damp, dark fen," are slight touches, but they serve perfectly
to suggest the fit home of the kelpie, the will-o'-the-wisp, the
mischievous fairy folk, and the phantom train of gliding ghosts.
But Collins's most appreciative use of nature is in the Ode to
Evening. That poem was doubtless the result of personal expe-
rience, for it notes facts, such as the rising of the beetle in the
path at twilight, that were not yet stock poetical property.
The lines
Thy dewy fingers draw
The gradual dusky veil,"
could hardly have been written by one unfamiliar with the slow
disappearance of a landscape as night comes on. More remark-
able are the simplicity and directness of touch by which the few
details are made to stand for complete pictures. The cloudy
sunset, the silence of evening, the calm lake amid the upland fal-
lows, the fading view, the windy day in autumn, are all excellent
examples of the stimulative as opposed to the delineative descrip-
JIO
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
2
tion. But the final impression made on the mind is powerful
mainly because in some way that escapes analysis the very mood
and spirit of evening, its calm, its tender melancholy, breathe
through the unpretending lines. We seldom find in the eigh-
teenth century, personifications so high and spiritual, description
so essentially poetical, or workmanship so perfect in its simplicity.
Dr. Akenside's The Pleasures of the Imagination, though not
published till 1744, was begun in 1738 when the author was but
seventeen, and completed when he was twenty-one.
In 1757 it was remodeled and many additions
were made. In its first form the poem was essentially
Dr. Akenside
(1721-1770)
a product of the author's precocious, brilliant youth. Yet it has
little of the fire and passion of youth. It is a smooth, correct,
rather frigid exposition of certain philosophical principles. The
whole poem seems like an illustration of Akenside's belief that
poetry is true eloquence in metre.' It is not marked by any
especially rich or faithful portrayal of nature, nor is there much
description. In point of fact, such descriptions as occur are
often marred by eighteenth century periphrases such as calling
honey "ambrosial spoils;" the sun, "the radiant ruler of the
year;" flowers, "the purple honors of the spring;" water, "a
delicious draught of cool refreshment;" and frogs, "the grave,
unwieldly inmates of the neighboring pond." There is also fre-
quent use of stock words and of worn-out similitudes. But in
spite of its coldness, this poem is an important contribution to
the development of the poetry of nature because of its new con-
ception of the relation between man and nature.
When the poet endeavors to explore the "secret paths of early
genius," he imagines inspiration as coming to the lonely youth
from some "wild river's brink at eve," or from " solemn
groves at noon," and there is one passage that lays a Words-
worthian emphasis on the effect of nature on the soul of a child.
2
"O ye Northumbrian shades, which overlook
The rocky pavement and the mossy falls
Of solitary Wensbeck's limpid stream;
¹ Mason: Memoirs of Gray, p. 261.
2 Pleasures of Imagination, Bk. IV:26 (1770).
1
•
NATURE IN POETRY OF the eightEENTH CENTURY 111
How gladly I recall your well-known seats
Beloved of old, and that delightful time
When, all alone, for many a summer's day,
I wandered through your calm recesses, led
In silence by some powerful hand unseen.
Nor will I e'er forget you; nor shall e'er
The graver tasks of manhood, or the advice
Of vulgar wisdom, move me to disclaim
Those studies which possessed me in the dawn
Of life, and fix'd the color of my mind
For every future year."
2
4
But the great scene of nature does not appear the same to all.
It is only to the finer spirits that the true meaning of the outer
world is revealed. These nobler souls are all "naked and alive"³
to the influences of nature to which they respond as Memnon's
image to the touch of the morning. Form, color, sound, motion,
detain the enlivened sense, and soon the soul perceives the deep
concord between these attributes of matter and the mind of man.5
The passions are lulled to a divine repose. The intellect itself
suspends its graver cares. Love and joy alone possess the soul
"Whom nature's aspect, nature's simple garb,
Can thus command."6
For the happy man whom neither sordid wealth nor the gaudy
spoils of honor can seduce to leave the sweets of nature,
“Each passing hour sheds tribute from her wings:
And still new beauties meet his lonely walk,
And loves unfelt attract him.
•
Nor thence partakes
Fresh pleasure only; for the attentive mind,
By this harmonious action on her powers,
¹ Pleasures of Imag., Bk. IV: 38–51 (1770); cf. Hymn to the Naiads, 243–
249; cf. Wordsworth: Prelude, Bk, I:402, and many other passages concerning
the silent power of nature over him in his youth.
2 Pleasures of Imag., Bk. I: 136–140 (1757).
3 Pleasures of Imag., Bk. I: 120 (1744).
* Pleasures of Imag., Bk. I: 150 (1757).
5 Pleasures of Imag., Bk. I: 153–160 (1757).
❝ Pleasures of Imag., Bk. I: 168-175 (1757); cf. Wordsworth: Tintern Abbey
Il. 41-49.
7
I 12
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
Becomes herself harmonious; wont so oft
In outward things to meditate the charm
Of sacred order, soon she seeks at home
To find a kindred order, to exert
Within herself this elegance of love." I
If men feel themselves cramped by custom, by sordid policies
let them appeal
i
to Nature, to the winds
And rolling waves, the sun's unwearied course,
The elements and seasons.
All these call us to beneficent activity.
"Thus the men
Whom Nature's works can charm, with God himself
Hold converse; grow familiar, day by day,
With his conceptions, act upon his plan,
And form to his the relish of their souls.” 2
But even the susceptible soul must come to nature in an open,
receptive mood. The sacred rights of the Naiads are sought in
vain by the "eyes of care." No vision is granted to the preoccu-
pied guest.³ There is also an independent life in nature, or at
least a spirit that is no reflection of man's moods, but with qual-
ities of its own whereby man is influenced.
"Throned in the sun's descending car,
What power unseen diffuseth far
This tenderness of mind ?
What Genius smiles on yonder flood?
What God, in whispers from the wood,
Bids every thought be kind? "4
"Who can tell,
Even on the surface of this rolling earth,
¹ Pleasures of Imag., Bk. III: 591-605 (1744). This "sacred order” of the
universe is one of the points on which Wordsworth dwells, and he refers frequently
to the tranquilizing, steadying effect which the contemplation of this order and
harmony will have on the mind of man. See Excursion, Bk. IV: 1198–1219;
1254-1265.
Pleasures of Imag., Bk. III: 615-633 (1744).
3 Odes, Book I, Ode 14, stanzas 4-6; cf. Wordsworth's statement that
nature reveals herself to the heart that "watches and receives."
Odes: Bk. I, Ode 5, st. 8.
NATURE IN POETRY OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 113
How many make abode? The fields, the groves,
The winding rivers and the azure main,
Are rendered solemn by their frequent feet,
Their rites sublime."'
The power of nature over man is constant and varied. She
is endowed with such enchantment, made up of forms so exqui-
sitely fair, breathed through with such, ethereal sweetness, that
she can at will "raise or depress the impassioned soul." 2 Her
dark woods rouse him to solemn awe. Her gay landscapes
with blue skies and silver clouds give an impression of winning
mirth. There is in the rising sun something kindred to man's
spirit. At evening the "breath divine of nameless joy," that
steals through the heart, is but another message from the spirit of
love that rules the world. All the forms of the external world
are but visible expressions of such thoughts of God as the mind
of man is fitted to receive. The soundness of this interpretation
of nature is not here in question. We are merely concerned with
the fact that in the middle of the century we find a statement of
poetical creed which, so far as the thought is concerned, might
come from The Excursion or The Prelude. Akenside is one of the
first of the poets of the age to insist on the beauty of all
nature,³ and to show an abiding sense of the spiritual elements
that give significance to the external forms of nature.
He was
also the first one to emphasize the Platonic doctrine of the iden-
tity of truth and beauty,
For Truth and Good are one;
And Beauty dwells in them, and they in her." 4
•
A minor poet, John Gilbert Cooper, must be mentioned
because of one poem, The Power of Harmony (1745). In execu-
¹ Pleasures of Imag., Bk. I:670-675 (1757).
Pleasures of Imag., Bk. III: 484 (1757).
3 Pleasures of Imag., Bk., I: 576–589 (1757).
4 Pleasures of Imag., Bk., I: 432–437 (1757).
Akenside's presentation of this doctrine has led Gosse to call him a
"" sort
of frozen Keats," but Akenside's pleasure in nature was philosophical rather
than sensuous. His scientific delight in the analyzed rainbow (Pleasures of
Imag., 2:103–120 [1744]) would have filled Keats with horror.
=
114
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
tion it is heavy and involved.
work out a theory of beauty.
It is a clumsy attempt to
The preface is more interesting
than the poem. In this preface he says: "It is
John Gilbert
the design of the poem to show that constant atten-
Cooper (1723-?)
tion to what is perfect and beautiful in nature will,
by degrees, harmonize the soul to a responsive regularity and
sympathetic order." In the poem he ascribes to "each nat-
ural scene a moral power," and traces even the song of birds and
the frisking of cattle to the effect.
Joseph Relph
(1712-1743)
Of beauty beaming its benignant warmth
Through all the brute creation."
He believes also that all parts of nature are beautiful. Shagged
rocks, barren heaths, precipices, sable woods, headlong rivers,
all are examples of the principle of harmony and so of beauty.
Somewhat earlier in the period is another minor poet who
would be today practically unknown had not Southey preserved
his work. This is Joseph Relph, the son of a Cum-
berland statesman. He was born in Shergham,
where he spent most of his unhappy life. His
Cumbrian Pastorals were, Southey says, transcripts from real life.
They are among the very earliest attempts to represent the Cum-
berland dialect, and they are a close record of Cumberland super-
stitions and games and customs. The poems show an original
study of the scenery about Shergham, as in the following lines:
"A finer hay-day was never seen,
The greenish sops already luik less green
And see how finely striped the fields appear,
Striped like the gown 'at I on Sundays wear.
White show the rye, the big of blaker hue;
The bluimen pezz greenment wi' reed and blue."
Blair's one important poem is The Grave (1741). Its aim is
a moral one, and it makes but slight use of the outer world.
There is, however, one interesting realistic descrip-
(1699-1746) tion of a row of ragged elms
Robert Blair
Long lash'd by the rude winds. Some rift half down
NATURE IN POETRY OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 115
Their branchless trunks; others so thin atop,
That scarce two crows could lodge in the same tree."
These elms, the cheerless unsocial yew, the wan moon, the
howling wind, the screech owl, the moss-grown stones skirted
with nettles, are descriptive details that serve very well to add
the desired " supernumerary horror" to the scene. The Grave
is one of the earliest poems to give to melancholy reflections on
man's mortality the nature setting that was later recognized as
the conventionally appropriate one.
William Thompson is best known by his Epithalamium (1736),
Sickness (1746), and especially his Hymn to May, written "not
William
Thompson
(1712?-1760?)
him;
long after." His poems were published in a vol-
ume in 1757- His Milkmaid is a stilted, artificial
pastoral filled in with homely details. Colin begs
politely and on his knees that Lucy will smile upon
"So may thy cows forever crown
With floods of milk thy brimming pail ;
So may thy cheeze all cheeze surpass,
So may thy butter never fail."
Lucy, of course, sighed and blushed a sweet consent.

This pas-
toral, together with his admiration of Pope's Alexis, who was so
Gently rural! without coarseness plain;
How simple in his elegance of grief!
A shepherd but no clown,"
would hardly lead one to suspect much satisfactory study of
nature in Thompson's poetry. But there is apparent in the
Hymn and even in Sickness, through all the florid, exuberant dic-
tion and obscure forms of expression, a genuine delight in the
beauty and freshness of the outer world. He was a great admirer
of Thomson, who as
"Nature's bard the seasons on his page
Stole from the year's rich hand,”¹
and his poems show Thomson's influence in expression and gen-
eral conception. Such phrases as the "boundless majesty of
I Sickness, 5:5.
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TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
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day," the "sun's refulgent throne," the "vernant showery bow
profusive," clouds of "ten thousand inconsistent shapes," are sug-
gestive. Here is a typical Thomsonian passage:
"What boundless tides of splendor o'er the skies,
O'er flowing brightness! stream their golden rays!
Heaven's azure kindles with the varying dyes."
Or take this one:
I
"And what a prospect round
Swells greenly grateful on the cherish'd eye;
A universal blush, a waste of sweets!" 2
There are many other suggestions of Thomson in these "tender
and florid" descriptions of "the beauties, the pleasures, and the
loves" of spring. William Thompson is of importance in this study
merely because he is one more poet who loved nature, who wrote of
her with enthusiasm, and who imitated Thomson. His chief use of
nature is in similitudes and in frequent enthusiastic summaries of
the charms of nature.
Moses Mendez published in 1751 four poems named in imi-
tation of Thomson, Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter. There
is some first-hand observation in such lines as,
Moses Mendez
d. 1758
or:
"The pool-spring gnat on sounding wings doth pass
And on the ramping steed doth suck his fill,"
"The patient cow doth, to eschew the heat,
Her body steep within the neighboring rill;"
but more often the observations are of the conventional imitative
sort, as in this couplet:
"On every hill the purple-blushing vine
Beneath her leaves her racy fruit doth hide,"
which is hardly true of an English scene. On the whole the
passages in which Mendez treats of nature, while rather fanciful
and decorative, are not indicative of any real knowledge of
nature.
'Hymn to May, st. 20.
2 Sickness, 5:17.
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NATURE IN POETRY OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 117
Jago's most important poems are Edge Hill (1767), The
Swallow (1748), The Blackbirds (1752) and The Goldfinches.
The last two are love stories of the birds named,
Richard Jago each love story being disastrously ended by the
(1715-1781)
cruelty of man in taking innocent life. The Swal-
low is an allegory of life and death. Edge Hill is notable for
its pleasure in wide views which are minutely traced, and, alas,
made "generally interesting by reflections, historical, philosoph-
ical, and moral." The new note is struck by the exceptional fre-
quency and evident appreciation with which the poet notes the
mountains in the different views. Of "Dafset's ridgy mountain,"
he says:
To the west
"Like the tempest-driven wave,
Irregularly great, his bare tops brave
The winds."
"Braids lifts his scarry sides,
And Ilmington, and Campden's hoary hills,
Impress new grandeur on the spreading scene,
While distant, but distinct, his Alpine ridge
Malvern erects o'er Esham's vale sublime.”
In 1750 appeared Francis Coventry's Pens-hurst, a poem in
rhymed octosyllabics, notable chiefly for its many imitations of
Milton. Another poem written by Coventry to
Francis Coventry the Honorable Wilmot Vaughan indicates that
the two friends had found some pleasure in
(d. 1759?)
mountain climbing:
"Dost thou explore Sabrina's fountful source,
Where huge Plinlimmon's hoary height ascends:
Then downwards mark her vagrant course
'Till mixed with clouds the landscape ends?
Dost thou revere the hallowed soil
Where Druids old sepulchred lie?
Or up cold Snowden's craggy summits toil
And muse on ancient savage liberty?
Ill suit such walks with bleak autumnal air."
In the World, April 12, 1753, Coventry also had an article
t
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TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
entitled "Strictures on the absurd Novelties introduced in Gar-
dening," which was a plea for simplicity and naturalness.
William Mason
(1725 1797)
William Mason, who is a poet known chiefly because he had
insight enough to appreciate Gray, may, in this study, be lightly
passed over. His dramas Elfrida (1752), and
Caractacus (1751) were written on the model of
the ancient Greek tragedy. They have little to
do with external nature, although in order to introduce "touches
of pastoral description" such as had especially delighted him in
Comus and As You Like It he had laid the scene of Elfrida in
an old romantic forest." Caractacus is a Druid play the
action of which takes place on or near "majestic Snowden," but
there is only a single passage in which the wild scenery is made.
effective in the poem, and that is the ode beginning,
"
Mona on Snowden calls:
Hear, thou King of Mountains, hear."
of
Later on the ode allies itself with romantic work by its use
the supernatural but it makes slight use of nature. Mason's chief
significance in this study is in what he had to say about gardens.
In To a Water Nymph (1747), there is a protest against the elab-
orate Gothic fountains then fashionable, and also against shell
work and mineral grottos. His long work The English Garden
will be spoken of later.
The greatest name in this period is that of Thomas Gray.
His prose will be taken up under Travels. His poetry falls into
three periods.' The first or classical period, in
spite of an occasional good line, such as
Thomas Gray
(1716-1771).
The untaught harmony of Spring,"
is entirely conventional in its use of nature, the prevailing tone
being exemplified in such phrases as "the attic warbler," "the
purple year," and " Venus' train." But in the two poems of 1742,
we find close and appreciative study of the country about Wind-
sor and Stoke Pogis. In the ode on Eton College the wistful
pleasure with which the poet recalls his childhood is intensified
by his memory of the beloved hills and fields, the silver-winding
Phelps: The Beginnings of the English Romantic Movement.
NATURE IN POETRY OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 119
:
stream, and the pleasant paths inseparably associated with the care-
free days of his youth. In the Elegy the use of nature is highly
artistic. The purpose of the poem is a human one-the sympa-
thetic representation of the honorable labor, the innocent joys,
the tender and wholesome affections of the poor, the general
tone being that of a pensive melancholy induced by the thought
of death. Nature is used in due subordination to the theme,
and with exquisite fitness. Every detail of the opening twilight
picture contributes its own touch to prepare the mind for the
succeeding reflections on death. The sounds, the tinkling of the
distant folds, the droning of the beetle, the complaining of the
owl, are such as emphasize silence, which is itself an accompani-
ment and an emblem of death. The ivy-mantled tower, the
rugged elms, the black yews, have been immemorially associated
with death. There is also a subtle analogy in the withdrawal
of light, the life of nature. So, too, each detail in the first
picture of morning, has its human purpose. The stirring sounds
are interesting and of pathetic import because they once waked
an answering throb of life in the hearts of men who now hear
them no more. The enumeration of homely country tasks has
its chief value in the suggested delight of the workman in his
occupation and the resultant emphasis by contrast on the pathos
of death.
In the last six stanzas of the poem we find the true romantic
conception of the relation between man and nature.
The poet
is represented as a shy, solitary being in communion with nature,
and drawing his inspiration from her. In the morning he hur-
ries to some hillside that he may watch the sunrise; at noon he
stretches himself at full length under some beech-tree by the
side of a brook, and pores over the waters as they babble by; or
-he wanders through the woods, murmuring to himself his way-
ward fancies. This poet is certainly far enough removed from
the typical town-bred poet of the classical régime. He is rather
of the same race as Warton's Enthusiast, and he at least suggests
Wordsworth's Poet who murmurs by the running brooks a music
sweeter than their own." In these stanzas nature is not only the
¹ Wordsworth: A Poet's Epitaph, st. 10.
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TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
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1
appropriate dramatic background. It is taken up into the mental
action and becomes at least in part the occasion of the poet's
moods, and it is entirely through the relation of the poet to
nature that these moods are revealed to the reader.
Nature is thus throughout the poem made strictly subservient
to the human theme, but the intrinsic beauty of the brief
descriptions, quite apart from the context, cannot pass unno-
ticed. Separate lines have the power of suggesting whole pic-
tures. For example in
"How bowed the woods beneath their sturdy stroke,"
the ringing blow of the ax, the crash of the falling tree, smite upon
the ear.
'Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield"
is full of
effect in
color and life. There is a wide, peaceful landscape
"The lowing herds wind slowly o'er the lea."
And the line
"The swallow twittering from its straw-built shed'
brings up all the details of a humble farmyard. These and
other descriptions in the Elegy are distinctively English inspirit
and detail. They are the result of first-hand knowledge, they
are drawn with a firm hand, and they are used with an instinctive
recognition of artistic fitness.
A new range of sympathies, however, appears in the poems
of Gray's third or purely romantic period. Here he writes of
northern mythologies and superstitions or gives transcripts of
Norse tales, and the pictures interwoven with the human ele-
In The Bard moun-
ments are of a wild and savage character.
tain, precipice, and torrent form a setting without which the
fiery denunciation of the poet would lose half its force. The
storm and the whirlwind sweep through these poems. Rough
and frowning steeps, foaming floods, warring winds, the heights.
of Snowdon and huge Plinlimmon, darkness, cold, make up the
terrible but dramatically appropriate environment for the fierce,
imprecatory elegy which the bard utters over his lost compan-
ions, for the fatal and dreadful song of the gigantic sisters weav-
in g "the loom of Hell.”
NATURE IN POETRY Of the EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 121
In one or two other poems there is effective use of nature.
The joy of a convalescent able at last to go out of doors
was not an uncommon subject through this period, but there
is no better expression of it than in A Fragment by Gray.
The feeling, and in passages, the phraseology, are almost Words-
worthian.
"The meanest flowret of the vale,
The simplest note that swells the gale,
The common sun, the air, the skies,
To him are opening Paradise,"
is an illustrative stanza. There are also some exquisite lines on ·
birds, as,
and,
"But chief, the Sky-lark warbles high
His trembling thrilling ecstacy;
And, lessening from the dazzled sight,
Melts into air and liquid light,”'
"There pipes the wood-lark, and the song-thrush there
Scatters his loose notes in the waste of air."2
Though undated these lines in their spirit and workmanship ally
themselves at once with the period of the Elegy rather than with
the later work. They also more accurately represent Gray's
dominant attitude towards nature, his knowledge of sweet,
homely things, and the delicate perfection of his literary touch?
The Rev. R. Potter's chief poem is A Farewell Hymn to the
Country, Attempted in the Manner of Spenser's Epithalamion (1749).
· R. Potter
(1721-1804)
The poem shows much sympathetic knowledge of
some parts of nature, especially of birds and trees.
He speaks of the quail that "runnes piping o'er
the land," of the "mavis-haunted grove," and of
the nightingale that delights "the stillness of the night." He
declares that his entire orchard, plums, pears, grapes, permains,
and all, is at the service of these, his " fellow-poets." At evening
"The slum'bring trees seem their tall tops to bow
Rocking the careless birds that on them nest
To gentle, gentle rest."
¹ On the Pleasure arising from Vicissitude.
2 Couplet about Birds.
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TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
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J
He does not often refer to specific trees, but he gives little sug-
gestive pictures as of "the uncertain shaded grove," or
"the doubtfull shade
By quivering branches made,”
or of delightful resting places roofed with "inwoven branches."
The stream for which he cared most was "the gentle Tave" in
Norfolk. He mentions many flowers, but in no new or finely
descriptive manner. His sensitiveness to perfumes we may see
in such lines as,
"
·
'Sweet is the breath of heaven with day-spring born,"
"Where the fresh hay-cock breathes along the mead,”
or in such phrases as "this flowre-perfumed aire." The poem is
rich in color, as in the descriptions of sunrise, and of various
kinds of fruit.
Though it would be difficult to quote specific lines to prove
the statement, it is nevertheless true that the whole poem con-
veys in a quite unusual degree a sense of warm, abiding affection
for the simple scenes of the country. "Smit with the peacefull
joys of lowly life," he gives thanks for "the unmoved quiet of
his silver daies," and thinks with dread of "the cares and pains
in mad citties." His use of nature is almost entirely in a running
assemblage of sweet sights and sounds to justify his preference
for country life.
Dr. John Dalton
(1709-1763)
Another of the minor poets of this period is Dr. John Dalton.
In 1755 he wrote a Descriptive Poem, inscribed to Two Ladies,
the daughters of Lord Lonsdale. It is long,
rambling, tedious, but it is of historical impor-
tance as being probably the first poetical tribute
to the beauty of Westmoreland and Cumberland.
"Then change the scene: to Nature's pride,
Sweet Keswick's vale, the Muse will guide.
The Muse, who trod th' enchanted ground,
Who sail'd the wonderous lake around,
With you will haste once more to hail
The beauteous brook of Borrodale."
He speaks of the streams that
NATURE IN POETRY OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 123
and says that
rejoice to roar
Down the rough rocks of dread Lodore,”
"Horrors like these at first alarm,
But soon with savage grandeur charm,
And raise to noblest thoughts your mind.
Thus by thy fall, Lodore, reclin'd,
The cragged cliff, inpendent wood,
Whose shadows mix o'er half the flood,
The gloomy clouds, which solemn sail,
Scarce lifted by the languid gale
O'er the cap'd hill and darken'd vale
I view with wonder and delight,
A pleasing tho' an awful sight."
Of Keswick and Skiddaw he writes,
"Thy roofs, O Keswick, brighter rise!
The lake and lofty hills between,
Where giant Skiddow shuts the scene.
Supreme of mountains, Skiddow, hail!
To whom all Britain sinks a vale!
Lo, his imperial brow, I see
From foul usurping vapors free!
'Twere glorious now his side to climb,
Boldly to scale his top sublime.”
There are several passages in the poem indicative of Dr.
Dalton's unusually close study of streams, especially those near
Lowther Castle, and in the picturesque valley of Borrowdale.
With evident delight he traces the stream from its mountain
source, over tuneful falls, under broad spreading boughs, along
silent meadows, to the wide lake. There is also a fine passage
descriptive of a patriarchal oak near Lowther. It is the first sus-
tained description of a specific tree with anything like the mod-
ern feeling. It is represented as standing in a "sunny plain.
alone." Its reverend age, its majesty, are especially dwelt upon.
The poem shows some excellent first-hand observation. Dr. Dal-
ton is ahead of Wordsworth in noticing the “ azure roofs " of
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TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
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the lowly cottages. And he should have the credit of discovering
the beauty of the vale of Derwentwater, and the majesty of
giant Skiddaw, fourteen years before Gray made his famous tour,
and nearly half a century before the lake poets set up their
monopoly.
The most important work of this period was doubtless that
of the Warton brothers. Their father was also a poet, and
he struck the romantic note in his hatred of city
Joseph Warton life and his longing for solitude in the country.
(1722-1800)
Joseph Warton had a long literary career during
which he edited books, wrote poems, and contributed articles to
periodicals. Those of his poems that were of especial note in
the history of Romanticism were written early in lite, between
1740 and 1756. The Enthusiast (1740), Odes on Various Subjects
(1746), and Ode on Mr. West's Translation of Pindar (1749) are
the chief ones to be studied. In these poems there are many sum-
maries of such objects in nature as give pleasure, but there is
little actual description. In details and phraseology there are
frequent echoes from Milton and Thomson.¹
In general, though unoriginal in expression, the poems are
marked by an unmistakably genuine love of nature, and of
nature untouched by man. The poet dislikes Versailles whose
fountains cast
"The tortur'd waters to the distant heav'ns."
Even Kent-
2
"All-beauteous Nature! by thy boundless charms," "the vast, var-
ious Landscape," "sight-refreshing green," "the thousand-colored tulip,"
are typical Thomsonian phrases.
66
'Liquid lapse of murm'ring waters "-Enthusiast, 1. 93, Paradise Lost, 8:263;
"Mountain shagg'd with horrid shades"-Enthusiast, 1. 75, Comus, l. 429;
"When young-eyed spring profusely throws
From her green lap the pink and rose."
-Ode to Fancy, l. 106. Song on May Morning;
"Then lay me by some haunted stream,
Rapt in some wild poetic dream.”
-Ode to Fancy, l. 41. L'Allegro, l. 129;
are some of the characteristic instances of the echoes from Milton.
* The Enthusiast.
NATURE IN POETRY OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 125
Though he, by rules unfettered, boldly scorns
Formality and method, round and square
Disdaining, plans irregularly great,'
" I
cannot design like nature. No gardens however artfully adorned
can charm like "unfrequented meads and pathless wilds." The
poet finds peculiar pleasure in all the wild, solitary, mournful
aspects of nature. He loves "hollow winds" and "ever-beating
waves,” and hoary mountains where
He wishes for
"Nature seems to sit alone.'
112
some pine-top'd precipice
Abrupt and shaggy, whence a foamy stream
Like Anio, tumbling roars; or some black heath
Where straggling stands the mournful juniper,
Or yew-tree scath'd."3
He escapes from the hated city's "tradeful hum" and seeks for
solitude at "the deep dead of night" under the pale light of
the moon. He is alive to all the mysterious, romantic sugges-
tions of nature. He is charmed by the little dancing Fayes that
sip night-dews and "laugh and love" in the dales. In storms
he hears demons and goblins shrieking through the dark air.
He is also deeply conscious of the effect of nature on man. He
finds himself even oppressed by the boundless charms of “brooks
hill, meadow, dale," and it is his belief that all nature conspires
"To raise, to soothe, to harmonize the mind."
Nature can give happiness beyond that of luxury or gratified
ambition. These poems mark a new phase in the feeling towards
nature, because, with little description, with no theory to pro-
pound, no moral to teach, no human interest to exemplify, the
poet with a rapt fervor and intensity cries out for solitary com-
munion with nature as a necessity of his own being. Warton
is also, I think, the first of the romantic poets to advocate a
return to nature in the sense in which Rousseau used the phrase.
Happy the first of men, ere yet confin'd
To smoaky cities; who in sheltering groves,
Warm caves, and deep-sunk vallies liv'd and lov'd.
I The Enthusiast.
2 Ode to Fancy.
3 The Enthusiast.
1
11
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126
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
.
Yet why should man mistaken deem it nobler
To dwell in palaces and high-roof'd halls,
Than in God's forests, architect supreme!
I
Joseph Warton's exceptionally strong love of nature is empha-
sized by the testimony of Bowles who traces his own love of
nature to companionship with Dr. Warton, and by the testimony
of his brother Thomas in a poem, An Ode Sent to a Friend. In
this poem Thomas Warton tells of his brother's delight in walks
at morning and evening through unfrequented grassy lanes, or
in the deep forest, or up steep hills "to view the length of land-
scape ever new.”
A part of the service which Warton rendered to the poetry of
nature rests in the fact that he led the attention from Pope to
poets who had treated of nature with imaginative power. He
had only scorn for
"The fearful, frigid lays of cold and creeping Art,"
'the courtly silken lay," "the polished lyrics," of his own day.
But it is in his prose that we find the best evidence of his break
with the classicists. In the dedication prefixed to the Essay on
Pope (1756) he divided English poets into four classes, putting
in the first class only Spenser, Shakespeare, and Milton. Of Pope
he said, "I revere the memory of Pope; I respect and honor his
abilities, but I do not think him at the head of his profession.”
He then proceeded to show the difference "betwixt a man of wit,
a man of sense, and a true poet." In the first and second sec-
tions of the Essay he minutely discusses Pope's descriptive poetry
showing that his idea of pastoral poetry as representing some
golden age was but "an empty notion," and commenting severely
on his mixture of British and Grecian ideas. He condemns
Windsor Forest because its images are "equally applicable to any
place whatsoever." In contrast with Pope he puts Thomson, of
whose Seasons he gives a most discriminating eulogy. It is too
long to quote entire, but a part of it must be given if only to
show its remarkably modern tone.
"Thomson was blessed with a strong and copious fancy; he
The Enthusiast.
"
NATURE IN POETRY OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 127
A
hath enriched poetry with a variety of new and original images,
which he painted from nature itself, and from his own actual
observations; his descriptions have, therefore, a distinctness and
truth, which are utterly wanting to those of poets who have only
copied from each other, and have never looked abroad on the
objects themselves. Thomson was accustomed to wander away
into the country for days, and for weeks, attentive to each rural
sight, each rural sound,' while many a poet, who has dwelt for
years in the Strand, has attempted to describe fields and rivers,
and generally succeeded accordingly. Hence that nauseous repe-
tition of the same circumstances; hence that disgusting impro-
priety of introducing what may be called a set of hereditary
images, without proper regard to the age, or climate, or occasion.
in which they were formerly used.
And
if our poets would accustom themselves to contemplate fully
every object, before they attempted to describe it, they would not
fail of giving their readers more new and complete images than
they generally do.”
Wordsworth himself was hardly more emphatic in his scorn
of vague descriptions and hereditary images, and in his plea for
simple truth to nature. The passages already quoted are suffi-
cient to show how self-conscious and theoretical was Warton's
romanticism. He was not, however, so far as the study of nature
alone is concerned, the first self-conscious worker in the new field.
Ramsay and Shenstone had already, apologetically to be sure, but
none the less distinctly, entered their protest against the conven-
tional imitations of their day. But Warton uttered no apology.
His theory was fully established in his own mind. He came
down on the classicists with hammer and tongs, and enunciated
in 1756 at least two of the cardinal doctrines of the poets of
nature who wrote forty years later.
Thomas Warton's poems seem at first reading to be but a patch-
work of phrases from Milton. The Pleasures of Melancholy (1745)
'An Essay on the Genius and Writings of Pope.
2 Note such lines as
"Haste thee nymph, and hand in hand,
With thee lead a buxom band;
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TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
was written when he was but seventeen. The theme of this poem
is a defense of solitude against various social pleasures; and it has
the customary note of delight in darkness, tombs,
Thomas Warton pale shrines, "fav'rite midnight haunts," "pale
(1728-1790) December's foggy glooms," and "the pitying
The First of April, Ode on the Approach
moon."
of Summer, and Morning, an Ode, are of more importance so far
as the love of nature is concerned. The lines on the opening
spring show close observation.
"Reluctant comes the timid spring."
Fringing the forest's devious edge
Half rob'd appears the hawthorn hedge."
"Scant along the ridgy land
The beans their new-born ranks expand.”
The rooks swarm with clamorous call and
"Wreathe their capacious nests anew."
The fisher "bursting through the crackling sedge
Startles from the bordering wood
The bashful wild-duck's early brood."
"And so loud the blackbird sings
That far and near the valley rings.”
""
He notes also the kite that sails above the crowded roof of the
dove-cote, the plumy crest of thistles, the russet tints and gleams
of light in the tops of trees at sunset, the faint, varying shades
of green when the new foliage appears on the trees, and the
blue tint of the unchanging pine standing in their midst.
Warton's pleasure in wide views is indicated in several passages
where he speaks of climbing a hill for the sake of the broad
prospect of field and stream. He had also an appreciation of
wild nature, as we see from the descriptions in The Grave of
King Arthur. Warton's work is of interest because of the
many attractive details scattered through his poems, but there is
Bring fantastic-footed joy," etc.,
"But ever against restless heat," etc.,
"Let not my due feet fail to climb," etc.
Approach of Summer.
"
>
NATURE IN POETRY OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 129
:
little unity of effect.
The general impression is that he saw
nature first through Milton's eyes, and that when he afterwards
made many charming discoveries for himself he tried to express
them in the Il Penseroso manner.
His chief influence was in his Observations on the Faerie Queen and
in his History of Poetry, but except as attention was thus directed
to older writers, these works had no effect on the poetry of nature.
In Joseph Warton's Enthusiast (1740) the love of solitary
communion with nature was supreme. About fourteen years
later appeared William Whitehead's Enthusiast,
which is of interest here because it shows so well
the typical eighteenth century view in contrast to
the pure romanticism of Warton. In Whitehead's
Enthusiast the poet yields instinctively to the new spirit, but is
suddenly recalled to himself, is rendered sane by the wise admo-
nitions of Reason. It is a bright day in May. The poet,
entranced by the beauty about him, walks forth,
William
Whitehead
(1715-1785)
"With loit'ring steps regardless where,
So soft, so genial was the air,
So wond'rous bright the day.
And now my eyes with transport rove
O'er all the blue expanse above,
Unbroken by a cloud!
And now beneath delighted pass,
Where, winding through the deep-green grass,
A full-brim'd river flow'd."
These, these are joys alone, I cry ;
'Tis here, divine Philosophy,
Thou deign'st to fix thy throne!
Here Contemplation points the road
Through Nature's charms to Nature's God!
These, these are joys alone !"
Then Reason whispers "monitory strains," and teaches the
Enthusiast that "light, and shade, and warmth, and air," that the
"philosophic calmness," the visionary sense of "universal love,"
which come to man from nature, must sink into insignificance
before the exalted joys of Virtue, and reminds the poet that
༣
13
130
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
܆
man was made for man." The intrinsic value of this poem is
slight, but it is noteworthy because we see the two tendencies
contending for mastery. Whitehead was no poet. He simply
reflected in a turbid fashion what more original men were saying.
His tolerably full statement of the romantic attitude towards
nature, with his subsequent assertion of the triumphant good
sense of Classicism is, therefore, valuable testimony to the two-
fold spirit of the age.
In general we may say that we find during this period, rural
didactic poetry treating of English subjects in the manner of
John Philips in Cyder, as in Somerville and Smart. There is
good local color in some descriptive poems as in Shenstone,
Gray, Dr. Dalton, and Relph. There is throughout the period
first-hand observation, but it is not so abundant, nor is the open-
ness of the poet's mind to sensuous impression so apparent as in
some preceding work. There is, however, delicate and poetic
handling of material as in the poems of Gray and Collins and
Greene. There is a self-conscious endeavor to break away from
ancient models, as in Ramsay's Preface and Shenstone's Preface,
and from existing poetic domination as in Warton's protest
against Pope. Truth to nature, independence of observation,
as necessary poetic qualities, are for the first time openly and
theoretically insisted on in Warton's Essay. There is scorn
of the utilitarian view of nature, as in Shenstone. The debt
of man to nature is dwelt upon with new emphasis by Young,
Shenstone, and especially Akenside. The sense of a divine spirit
in nature is clearly expressed by Akenside, and less clearly by
Young. The purely romantic love of nature in connection with
sentimental melancholy is fully exemplified in Joseph Warton.
There is strong personal enthusiasm for nature in Shenstone,
Akenside, and Joseph Warton. There is love of animals in
Shenstone and Jago. There is notable representation of country
people in Relph and, Gray and Somerville.
THE PERIOD FROM 1756 TO 1798.
From the Essay on Pope to the Lyrical Ballads is a long
period but any subdivision would be purely arbitrary. It is chiefly
NATURE IN POETRY OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 131
characterized by the development and emphasis of influences
already manifestly operant. The most valuable work is that
of Macpherson, Beattie, Burns, Cowper, and Blake. Gold-
smith is of less importance. Brown, Langhorne, Logan, and
Bowles, though minor poets, are significant in their poetry of
nature. Of less note are Mickle, Grainger, Bruce, Cunningham,
Graeme, and Scott.
John Brown
(1715-1766)
John Brown, otherwise unimportant, is interesting because
of his early appreciation of the scenery of the English
Lakes. He wrote a description of Keswick' in a
letter to Lyttleton, and his undated Fragment
of a Rhapsody Written at the Lakes of Westmore-
land is probably the outcome of the same visit. The Fragment
is short and may be quoted entire as well because of its beauty,
as because of its subject and early date :
"Now sunk the sun, now twilight sunk, and night
Rode in her zenith; nor a passing breeze
Sigh'd to the groves, which in the midnight air
Stood motionless; and in the peaceful floods
Inverted hung; for now the billow slept
Along the shore, nor heav'd the deep, but spread
A shining mirror to the moon's pale orb,
Which, dim and waning, o'er the shadowy cliffs,
The solemn woods and spiry mountain tops
Her glimmering faintness threw. Now every eye
Oppress'd with toil, was drown'd in deep repose,
Save that the unseen shepherd in his watch,
Propt on his crook, stood listening by the fold,
And gaz'd the starry vault and pendant moon.
Nor voice nor sound broke on the deep serene
But the soft murmur of swift gushing rills,
Forth issuing from the mountain's distant steep
(Unheard till now, and now scarce heard) proclaimed
All things at rest, and imag'd the still voice
Of quiet whispering to the ear of night."
For a curious coincidence compare Wordsworth's lines written
thirty years later:
¹ See page 195, under Travels.
132
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
"The song of mountain streams, unheard by day,
Now hardly heard, beguiles my homeward way."
John Langhorne was born at Kirby-Stephen in Westmore-
land. His best poems were published in 1759-60, though hist
Fables of Flora did not appear till 1771. Lang-
horne had an enthusiastic personal love for nature.
He dwelt with rapture on stream and flower and
field and sky. His wish was,
John Langhorne,
(1735-1779)
Or again,
"Oh let me still with simple nature live,
My lowly field flowers on her altar lay;
Enjoy the blessings that she meant to give
And calmly waste my inoffensive day,"
2
"Slow let me climb the mountain's airy brow;
The green height gained, in museful rapture lie,
Sleep to the murmur of the woods below
Or look to nature with a lover's eye." 3
His preference for nature untouched by art is seen in the charm-
ing little Fables showing the superiority of the wild rose to the
more splendid cultivated rose. And in another Fable he says,
“Come let us leave the painted plain,
x
This waste of flowers that palls the eye;
The walks of nature's wilder reign
Shall please in plainer majesty."5
That he had a tender feeling towards animals is shown by his
poems on birds and by his protest against the cruelty of confin-
ing birds in cages. The most striking characteristic of Lang-
horne's poems is his direct expression of the excellence of the gift
that nature's hand bestows. A part of this excellent gift is the
inspiration to poetry. The young shepherd was inspired with
"poetic charms" as he wandered through the wild scenes
By Yarrow's banks or groves of Endermay."
In his own experience
I
¹ Hope.
2 Vision of Fancy, Elegy 3.
Vision of Fancy, Elegy 3.
4 Fable IV.
5 Fable, The Bee Flower.
*
NATURE IN POETRY OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 133
'The nameless charms of high poetic thought,"
were born of "spring's green hours," and the murmuring shore
spoke to him "divine words," while in earlier days
“each lay
that falter'd from his tongue" had been "from Eden's murmurs
caught." 2
In an ode to the "Genius of Westmoreland," he
says that she kindled the "sacred fire " in his heart, that she gave
him "
thoughts too high to be exprest." Again he speaks of
an hour in his youth when
"The woodland genius came
And touched me with his holy flame." 3
Statements still more remarkable as foreshadowing later doctrines
are found in such lines as,
"Whatever charms the ear or eye,
All beauty and all harmony,
If sweet sensations they produce,
I know they have their moral use.
I know that nature's charms can move
The springs that strike to virtue's love." 4
Or these lines,
Has fair philosophy thy love?
Away! she lives in yonder grove.
If the sweet muse thy pleasure gives,
With her, in yonder grove, she lives.
And if religion claims thy care,
Religion fled from books is there.
For first from nature's works we drew
Our knowledge and our virtue too."5
Langhorne's perception of the power of nature over man, and
his passionate sense of personal indebtedness to nature are
the keynotes of his work. In a narrow way and with feeble
speech he shows a mental and spiritual experience of the same
type as that which Wordsworth records of his own youth. His
motive in writing, "an unaffected wish to promote the love
3 Autumnal Elegy.
To the Rev. Lamb.
2 Fable IV.
4 Fable X.
5 Inscription on the Door of a Study.
-1
134
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
of nature and the interests of humanity," is likewise Words-
worthian.
In Christopher Smart's one great poem, the Song to David
(1763), the use of nature is of so strange a character that it refuses
classification under the customary categories. The
Christopher
chief thought of the poem in the parts where nature
Smart
is used has to do with the creative energy of
(1722-1770)
God, the song of praise that is eternally his from all
existence, and the exceeding sweetness, strength, beauty, and glory
of the Spirit of God in man. These themes are not new with
Smart in this poem. In his prize poems ten years before he had
taken the attributes of God as his subject, and the general line of
thought, and the method of proof by the rapid accumulation of
illustrative images drawn from nature are practically the same as
in the Song to David. Here and there are instances of the same
noble conceptions and striking phrases, as in this picture of a tree:
"The oak
His lordly head uprears, and branching arms
Extends-behold in regal solitude
And pastoral magnificence he stands
So simple! and so great! The underwood
Of meaner rank an awful distance keep.”¹
Or this description of the Leviathan that,
"The terror and the glory of the main,
His pastime takes with transport proud to see,
The ocean's vast dominions all his own.
It is, however, only in the Song that the early themes are
treated with sustained energy of thought and splendor of ima-
gery. In this poem each thought is abundantly illustrated from
nature. The details are brought together from every clime and
They are poured forth with impetuous ardor. The
excited imagination of the poet does not hesitate and choose.
The universe is laid under contribution. There is a prodigal
season.
I The Immensity of the Supreme Being.
2 The Immensity of the Supreme Being, 1. 56. Cf. also the similar lines in
Hymn to the Supreme Being, st. 16. It was apparently a favorite image. See
Browning's reference to it in his poem on Smart.
"
NATURE IN POETRY OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 135
heaping up of the treasures of nature, an almost barbaric splendor
of images. Does the poet wish to say that all nature praises
God? The earth passes before him as in a vision.
The great
song of adoration swells upon his ear from every form of harmo-
nious activity. Seasons change, almonds glow, tendrils climb,
fruit trees blossom, birds build their nests, bell-flowers nod, the
spotted ounce and her cubs play, harvests ripen, wild carnations.
blow, the pheasant shows his glossy neck, the squirrel hoards nuts,
the map of nature is crowded with scenes of beauty, the crocus
burnishes alive" upon the snow-clad earth, the bullfinch sings
his flute note, the redbreast balances on the hazel spray, silver
fish glide through rivers, cataracts fall, fruits are luscious, gums give
out incense, all to "heap up the measure, load the scales with
praise to the Lord who is great and glad. In this rapid summary
there is a pomp, an energy, an activity that is indescribable.
later stanza on strength is almost terrifying in its powerful ima-
gery.
""
Strong is the lion-like the coal
His eyeball-like a bastion's mole
His chest against the foes:
Strong the gier-eagle on his sail,
Strong against tide the enormous whale
Emerges as he goes."
""
A
I know nothing like it except Blake's Tiger which is marked by
the same tenseness and abrupt energy.
Many of the details in Smart's poems were drawn from his
reading, especially from the Hebrew Scriptures. They could not
have come from observation for they have little to do with the
66
old, oft catalogued repository of things in sky and wave and
land." The images are fresh, original, daring. They startle the
mind out of passivity.
Another point to be noted is the peculiar combination of
facts. Bears, sleek tigers, ponies, and kids, are the beasts assem-
bled to illustrate God's creative activity, and so in other combi-
nations. Objects the least likely to suggest each other are brought
together. In the same way facts from nature and from human
nature are strangely mingled. Among beauteous things are reck-
.
136
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
oned a fleet before a gale, a host in glittering armor, a wild garden,
a moonlight night, and a virgin before her spouse.
Amidst the prettinesses, decencies, timidities, of the eighteenth
century poetry of nature, this poem by Smart sounds out like
a trumpet. The marshaled facts move forward like a cohort of
soldiers with a splendid tread that shakes the earth. The whole
effect is Hebraic, apocalyptic.
William
Julius Mickle
(1738-1788)
Mickle's chief poems are Syr Martyn (1767) Pollio (1762) and
some shorter pieces. In Pollio Mickle makes frequent references
to his own love of nature. The country he knew
best was that about Roslin Castle where he was
brought up, but he was not unfamiliar with other
parts of southeast Scotland as is shown by his refer-
ences to the Forth, the Annan, the Wauchope, the Ewes, to the
dales of Tiviot, and to various country seats. His interest in
nature was varied in character. In Almada Hill and May Day
there are frequent appreciative lines on mountains, as;
Where Snowden's front ascends the skies,"
"The tower-like summits of the mountain shore."
There are briefer references in such phrases as, "the hills of
Cheviot," "the thyme-clad mountain," "the mountains gray,"
"Old Snowden," "Snowden's hoary side," "the curving moun-
tain's craggy brow," which serve at least to show that Mickle was
not unconscious of the scenery about him.
indicate the effect of the sea on his mind.
Almada Hill and looked out over old Ocean,
it was
One or two lines
As he stood on
"By human eye untempted, unexplored,
An awful solitude,"
the last dim wave, in boundless space
Involved and lost "I
that held his impatient imagination. Even so brief a passage
serves to illustrate the awakened curiosity, . the new sense of
pleasure in the infinite and the unknown, that characterized the
romantic impulse. Amother modern note in Mickle is his inter-
¹ Almada Hill, 1. 330.
NATURE IN POETRY OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 137
est in moonlight and stars. There are several picturesque descrip-
tive lines, as,
"When sudden, o'er the fir-crown'd hill
The full orb'd moon arose.
??
“How bright, emerging o'er yon broom-clad height
The silver empress of the night appears.'
"While on the distant east
Led by her starre, the horned moone looks o'er
The bending forest, and with rays increast
Ascends." 3
"The star of evening glimmers o'er the dale
And leads the silent host of heaven along."
"silver empress '
In spite of the classical note in such a phrase as
these lines show not only genuine pleasure in the loveliness of
night, but also first-hand knowledge of its phenomena. Close-
ness of observation is further indicated in the lines on birds, as in
the description of the "sootie black-bird," that chaunts his shrill
vespers from the topmost spray of some tall tree, or of the eagle
that sails through the sky with "wide-spread wings unmov'd" till
suddenly he "sheer descends" on the brow of Snowden.
In his representation of flowers Mickle notes the "daisie-
whitened plain," and "the white and yellow flowers that love the
dank," but he was especially attracted by flowers growing among
rocks or upon cliffs. One close observation is of the twinkling
lines of gossamer that on summer mornings hang from spray to
spray.
Mickle's poems show a genuine love of nature.
in reminiscences of his happy youth
He abounds
"By the banks of the crystal-streamed Esk,
Where the Wauchope her yellow wave joins.”5
His chief use of nature is in the passages where he gives these
early associations, and in the many similitudes in his Elegies.
He always sees nature in a pathetic or joyous union with past
experiences in his own life or in that of others.
The Sorceress, st. 4.
Elegy, st. 4.
3 Syr Martyn, 2:31.
4 Pollio, st. 3.
5 Eskdale Braes, st. 1.
·
138
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
Grainger's chief poem, The Sugar Cane, appeared in 1764.
The theme and outline are presented in the first four lines:
"What soil the cane affects; what care demands;
Beneath what signs to plant; what ills await;
How the hot nectar best to crystallize;
And Afric's sable progeny to treat.”
James Grainger
(1724-1767)
Grainger recognizes as his poetical masters,
Maro, the "pastoral Dyer" (The Fleece),
"Pomona's bard" (Cyder), Smart (The Hop Gar-
den), and Somerville (The Chace). The Sugar
Cane is a purely didactic poem and is no real contribution to the
new feeling towards nature. The first part of the Ode to Soli-
tude, a long ode beginning,
"O Solitude, Romantic maid,"
is another example of the sentimental view of nature, with fre-
quent and obvious imitations of Milton; but the last half of the
poem declares that only the old and feeble should seek the soli-
tude of the country, that shades are no medicine for a troubled
mind, and, in general, that the proper business of mankind is
man.
Chronologically Macpherson's Poems of Ossian belong in the
five years before the publication of Percy's Reliques (1765), and
they are a part of the same general stream of
James
influence, the revival of folk-lore.
These poems
Macpherson
are epic in character, their aim being the celebra-
(1738-1796)
tion of the exploits of Celtic heroes. They are of
importance in this study because the adventures of Fingal,
Ossian, Oscar, and Gaul are throughout closely associated with
natural scenery of a wild and romantic sort. Mist-covered
mountains, storm-swept skies, rough streams, desolate shores,
dim moonlight nights, are the most frequent scenic details, and
they are so wrought into the story that the human tragedy and the
scene where it was enacted cannot be thought of apart. The
three ways in which nature is used in these poems, as dramatic
background, in similitudes, and in apostrophes, will serve to
'See Life and Letters of James Macpherson, by Bailey Saunders, p. 14.
NATURE IN POETRY OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 139
illustrate both the prominence given to nature and the close
union between human emotions and the varying phenomena of
the external world. A fine example of a bright description to
usher in a sudden contrasting portent of disaster is in the open-
ing lines of Temora.
"The blue waves of Erin roll in light. The mountains are
covered with day. Trees shake their dusky heads in the breeze.
Gray torrents pour their noisy streams. Two green hills, with
aged oaks, surround a narrow plain. The blue course of a
stream is there." The song that was "lovely, but sad, and left
silence in Carric-Thura," has an autumn picture as its fit setting.
"Autumn is dark on the mountains; gray mist rests on the
hills. The whirlwind is heard on the heath. Dark rolls the
river through the narrow plain. A tree stands alone on the hill
and marks the slumbering Connal. The leaves whirl round with
the wind and strew the graves of the dead."
I
The description of the desolation of Balclutha is the prelude
to the song of mourning for the unhappy Moina. ²
2
The use of nature in apostrophes is characteristic of the
Ossian poems. Of these the most famous is the address to the
sun. There are frequent apostrophes to winds, streams, and
tempests, to stars, and especially to the moon. Two good exam-
ples are the poet's address to the evening star in The Songs of
Selma, and to the moon in Dar Thula. Of these the second
may be quoted as fairly typical :
"Daughter of heaven, fair art thou! the silence of thy face
is pleasant! Thou comest forth in loveliness. The stars attend
thy blue course in the east. The clouds rejoice in thy presence,
O Moon! they brighten their dark-brown sides. Who is like
thee in heaven, light of the silent night? The stars are ashamed
in thy presence.
But thou thyself shalt fail one night,
and leave thy blue path in heaven. The stars will then lift their
heads.
Thou art now clothed with thy brightness.
Look from thy gates in the sky.
the daughter of night may look
tains may brighten, and the ocean roll its white waves in light."
Burst the cloud, O wind! that
forth; that the shaggy moun-
'Carric-Thura.
2 Carthon.
140
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
It will be observed that in almost every apostrophe there is
beautiful external description together with an underlying anal-
ogy to the thought of the poem. In the passages quoted above
the triumphant brightness of the moon in her blue path, and the
suggestion of the coming night when she shall fail in heaven,
are but types of the beauty of Dar Thula and of the day when,
though the winds of spring shall be abroad, though the flowers
shall shake their heads on the green hills, and the woods shall
wave their growing leaves, the white-bosomed maiden shall not
again move in the steps of her loveliness.
2
•
Dr. Blair in his full study of the similitudes of Ossian admits
that they are too "thick-sown," and that they are drawn from a
narrow range of objects. But he claims, on the other hand, that
the similes have the exceptional vividness that comes from first-
hand observation,' and that they show an imaginative perception
of subtle analogies. Dr. Blair's recognition of beauty and con-
gruity was so quickened by his partisanship of Ossian that his
conclusions usually need to be scrutinized in the cold light of
facts. The subtlety of the analogies certainly often escapes the
ordinary reader, but no one can fail to observe the pathetic
beauty of the little pictures into which the similitudes are often
elaborated. Music,, for instance, is compared to "the rising
breeze, that whirls at first the thistle's beard, then flies dark-
shadowy over the grass." Again a song is "like the voice of a
summer breeze, when it lifts the head of flowers and curls the
lakes and streams." The heroes contended "like gales of
spring, as they fly along the hill, and bend by turns the feebly-
whistling grass." The warriors are "bright as the sunshine
before a storm; when the west wind collects the clouds, and
* Dr. Blair has a significant comment on the truth in the poems of Ossian.
"The introduction of foreign images betrays a poet copying not from nature,
but from other writers. Hence so many lions and tigers, and eagles and ser-
pents which we meet with in the similes of modern poets; as if these animals
had acquired some right to a place in poetical comparisons for ever, because
employed by ancient authors. They employed them with propriety, as objects
generally known in their country; but they are absurdly used for illustration by
us, who know them only at second-hand, or by description."
2 Blair's Critical Dissertation, in Tauchnitz ed. of the Ossian Poems.
.
NATURE IN POETRY OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 141
Morven echoes over all her oaks." In these and many similar
comparisons we see how the beauty of the suggested natural
picture led the poet into a use of details not necessary for his
illustrations. The importance of the poetry of Ossian in the
evolution of the poetry of nature rests on its early date, its close
interweaving of human emotions and natural scenes, and its
abundant and appreciative use of wild, free nature.
Bishop Percy
(1729-1811)
Percy's Reliques appeared in 1765. The publication of these
ballads was of great importance to the cause of the romantic
revival in general. The ballads were, however, of
somewhat less significance in their influence on the
new feeling toward nature. A ballad would never
interrupt the story for a description, and there would, of course,
never be any hint of a philosophy of nature. But throughout
the ballads there are casual touches of description showing a
genuine love for some forms of nature, especially the forest, green
hills, and moors. "Upon the wide moors," on moors SO
broad," over the fields so brown," "over the lea," over the
downs,” are characteristic phrases. The castles are usually on a
hill and command a wide view. The love of the hills is indi-
cated by such little pictures as
or,
66
"Robin sat on a gude grene hill,
Keipand a flock of fie.” 2
"Lord Thomas and fair Annet
Sate a' day on a hill,
66
When night was cum and sun was sett
They had not talkt their fill.” 3
But it is the forest that most often appears.
"Until they came to the merry green wood,
Where they had gladdest bee,"4
(6
gives the fresh, open-air setting of most of these tales of love
and heroism;
¹ See Child of Elle, Edom o' Gordon, Hardyknute, and others.
2 Robin and Makyne.
3 Lord Thomas and Fair Annet.
4 Robin Hood and Guy of Gisborne.
:
!
་་
!
4
-
1
2.
1
J42 TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
ר
Mery it was in the grene forest
Amonge the leves grene;"'
"All in the merrye month of May,
When greene buds they were swellin;”²
And wee'll away to the greene forest; "3
"Gil Morice sate in gude grene wode,
He whistled and he sang ; 4
“In summer time when leaves grow greene,
And blossoms bedecke the tree;" 5
"To the greene forest so pleasant and faire;"
"He myght have dwelt in grene foreste,
Under the shadowes greene;"7
"The woodweele sang, and wold not cease,
Sitting upon the spraye,
Soe lowde, he wakened Robin Hood
In the greenwood where he lay ;"8
6
are typical forest pictures. But the gude green wood is not
always fresh and blooming, as we see from occasional lines
such as
"Now loud and shrill blew the westlin' wind,
“Sair beat the heavy shower;'
"About Yule quhen the wind blew cule;"
"Oft have I ridden thro Stirling town
In the wind both and the weit;""
"No shimmering sun here ever shone;
No halesome breeze here ever blew;"
12
II
Trees are not often mentioned individually except the oak
and the willow, the latter always representing sorrow.
I Adam Bell.
3 The Marriage of Sir Gawaine.
2 Barbara Allan's Cruelty.
4 Gil Morice.
5 King Edward IV and Tanner of Tamworth.
"The King and the Miller of Mansfield.
7 Adam Bell.
8 Robin Hood and Guy of Gisborne.
9 For the Forest in Medieval poetry see Vernon Lee, Euphorion, p. 122.
10 Hardyknute.
"Young Waters.
12 The Heir of Linne.
NATURE IN POETRY OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 143
There is occasional use of nature in simple comparisons, as,
“White as evir the snaw lay on the dike," "drye as a clot of
claye," "light of foot as stag that runs in forest wild," his
"een like gray gosehawk's stair'd wyld."
There are also some homely pictures of everyday country
life, as in Take Thy Old Cloak About Thee, Plain Truth and Blina
Ignorance (Somersetshire dialect). The Ew-Bughts Marion, and
The Auld Good Man.
The use of nature in the Ballads, slight and limited as it is
gives an impression of vivid reality. It is what Schiller would
call the simple as opposed to the sentimental love of nature, the
first being characteristic of early races who are nature, and the
last of the moderns who seek nature. On eighteenth century
readers who, as a class, knew little about the external world out-
side their parks and gardens, the effect of the descriptive touches
in the Ballads would be to lead them into lovely regions where
nature was as spontaneous and free as the knights and fair ladies
themselves.
Michael Bruce imitated Milton's Lycidas in an Elegy called
Daphnis, and imitated Gray in some Runic Odes, which were
lauded as "truly Runic and truly Grayan." In
Michael Bruce these poems the use of nature is slight and conven-
(1746-1767) tional. His Lochleven (1766) is more significant.
In this poem he celebrates
“The pastoral mountains, the poetic streams
of his native land. He finds all nature full of joy.
"The vales, the vocal hills,
The woods, the waters, and the heart of man
Send out a general song; 'tis beauty all
To poet's eye and music to his ear."
Clouds arrested in their swift course by lofty mountains, lakes
that hold a mirror to the sky, songsters twittering o'er their
young, waters glowing beneath western clouds, hoary-headed
Grampius clad in snow, are counted among his pleasures. He
prefers life in the country, for there
I
Schiller: "Ueber die Naive und Sentimentale Dichtung."
}
1
144
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
"All in the sacred, sweet, sequestered vale
Of solitude, the secret primrose-path
Of rural life, he dwells."
He loved especially the Gairney, a stream that flows into Loch
Leven, because, as a lad, he lay on its banks and composed
poetry. He speaks with evident knowledge of other streams,
the gulfy Po, "slow and silent among its waving reeds," and the
rapid Queech rushing impetuous over broken steeps. It is nat-
ural that Bruce should know, as he did, especially water birds.
The "wild-shrieking gull,"" patient heron," " dull bittern," the
"clamorous mew," and the "slow-wing'd crane " moving heavily
along the shore, were doubtless birds that he had often seen.
Bruce's pleasure in wide views is shown by this poem, Lochleven,
for it is a description of the prospect spread out before him as
he stands on "Mount Lomond." Bruce's Elegy was written
when he felt himself dying of consumption. It represents his
delight in all forms of nature's life and his deep melancholy at
bidding farewell to the springtime world.
By a process of selection we find in Bruce's poems his real love
for the outer world. This is not, however, the impression made
by his poems as a whole. His knowledge of nature was limited,
and his expression was often rigid and formal. He died young,
before he had really attained the mastery of his own thought,
and his importance lies not so much in actual accomplishment as
in scattered suggestions of his tendencies and possibilities.
John Logan
(1748-1788)
(6
Bruce's most intimate friend was John Logan, who, in 1770,
published an edition of Bruce's poems and included some wrote
by other authors." In 1781, when he published
his own works, he laid claim to a number of the
poems that had appeared in the edition of Bruce's
poems in 1770. Among these the most important
was The Cuckoo,' a poem well worth the sharp controversy waged
over it by the respective friends of the two authors. There is
nothing else in this period that rings so fresh and clear as this
little ode. One stanza may be quoted to illustrate its beauty,
its simplicity, and naturalness. This stanza is also of peculiar
* The poem is quoted entire by Gosse in his Eighteenth Century Literature.
NATURE IN POETRY OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 145
:
interest because it so definitely foreshadows Wordsworth's To
the Cuckoo.
"The schoolboy, wandering through the wood,
To pull the primrose gay,
Starts, the new voice of spring to hear,
And imitates thy lay."
Logan's other poems, though he has nothing equal to the
cuckoo song in spontaneity and exquisite simplicity, are yet of
real value. His Braes of Yarrow is an effective presentation of
the ancient, sorrow-laden Yarrow motif. As is fitting in a ballad
the touches of description are of the briefest sort, but the forest,
the bonny braes, and the sounding stream are felt through all the
plaintive story. Ossian's Hymn to the Sun is a poetical para-
phrase of the famous apostrophe in Balclutha. It has some fine
lines, but is inferior in strength to the original. The Ode Writ-
ten in Spring is a laudation of a certain fair Maria in the true
classical fashion, but the new note is struck in the first five
stanzas descriptive of spring.
"The loosen'd streamlet loves to stray
And echo down the dale,"
"The hills uplift their summits green,"
"The cuckoo in the wood unseen,"
"At eve the primrose path along,
The milkmaid shortens with a song,
Her solitary way,"
"The sudden fields put on the flowers,”
are lines showing fresh observation and easy, natural expression.
Another passage characterizes autumn as "the Sabbath of the
year." Limited in compass as is Logan's good work it is of
value, because marked by exceptional purity and sweetness.
Most of James Graeme's poems were written before he
was twenty. His tastes are thus referred to by his friend, Dr.
Robert Anderson: "A passion for romantic fiction
James Graeme
and fabulous history, appeared in him very early
(1747-1772)
Of the Gothic, Celtic and Oriental
admirer; and frequently attempted
in life. .
mythology he was a warm
146
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
1
}
་
imitations of the wild and flowery fictions of the northern and
eastern nations.
Like other votaries of the
Muses, he was passionately fond of rural scenery, and delighted
in walking alone in the fields."
His chief poems of nature are some descriptive elegies.
Occasionally there is a fairly good line, as
or
“The torrents, whiten'd with descending rain,"
"The blue-gray mist that hovers o'er the hill,"
showing at least a hint of first-hand observation. But on the
whole the poems are a composite of phrases belonging to the
typical poetry of sentimental melancholy. His characteristic
attitude towards nature is shown by his constant preference for
chilly midnight when howlets scream and ravens croak, and when
he, with pensive care, tunes the voice of woe and sheds "teary
torrents over grass-green graves. One poem, on Curling, is,
however, quite different in tone, for it is a crudely realistic and
technical description of the game and the peasants who engage
in it.
""
The tastes of Graeme and his attempts are of more signifi-
cance than his actual work, which is of little value.
Oliver Goldsmith
(1728-1774)
The bent of Goldsmith's mind was towards the study of man
in social relations. His use of nature is accessory and limited.
In The Traveller the real interest is in manners
and customs. When the pilgrim is in the Alps.
with a wide prospect before him, it is the thought
of man's grand heritage that impresses him. In the account of
Switzerland there is only a vague general description of the
country, but a full, sympathetic description of the peasant.
too, in Italy, France, Holland, and even in England: In the few
descriptions that do occur there are occasional lines indicative of
first-hand observation, as in this picturesque couplet on the
scenery in Holland:
So,
• In this poem about 16 per cent. of the lines have something to do with
nature. In Wordsworth's Descriptive Sketches over 50 per cent. of the lines
treat of nature.
NATURE IN POETRY OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 147
The slow canal, the yellow-blossomed vale,
The willow-tufted bank, the gliding sail."
We also find effective combinations of geographical names that
give a certain charm of remoteness and melody; and there is a
sense of space and movement conveyed by the rapidly presented
and wide landscapes.
In The Deserted Village the central thought is still man, and
the purpose didactic, but there is effective though not abundant
Even here, however, it is only nature inseparably
use of nature.
associated with man.
with human nature.
Nine tenths of the poem has to do directly
The other tenth merely gives charming
pictures of the country close about a village. Scattered lines are
of perfect workmanship, as that one descriptive of the straggling
fence,
and
With blossomed furze unprofitably gay,"
"The breezy covert of the warbling grove." /
In the picture of desolation the details are selected with deli-
cacy and precision. Each touch helps the general impression.
The value of such work becomes more apparent when put into
contrast with the description of torrid climes. In Goldsmith and
in Thomson what was seen at first-hand had the grace and power
of truth, but scenes in remote lands, known only through the dis-
torting spectacles of books, were credited with an odd mixture of
incongruous details. Except for one use of mountains in a
simile there is no indication that Goldsmith knew any but tame
scenery.
In general we may say that Goldsmith showed a direct,
simple-hearted pleasure in the open-air world, that he was a
sympathetic observer of the more obvious facts of nature, and
that he had a bright, easy way of recording those facts. The sim-
plicity of his work is combined with a quick perception of artistic
form. But he has hardly a touch of what Matthew Arnold calls
"natural magic," and he is in no sense a revealer. He was on
the surface of things. Of the higher ministry of nature to man's
spiritual needs he knew nothing. In his prose works Goldsmith
has several vigorous attacks on falseness and affectation in poetry.
}
148
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
In 1759 he characterized Italian poetry at it lowest ebb, as
66 no
longer an imitation of what we see, but of what a visionary might
wish. The zephyrs breath a most exquisite perfume; the trees
wear eternal verdure; fauns, dryads, and hamadryads stand ready
to fan the sultry shepherdess . . . . who is so simple and inno-
cent as often to have no meaning." This attack on the falseness
and affectation of Italian poetry might be quoted verbatim by a
modern critic of the popular eighteenth century pastorals. Gold-
smith also praised Gay's poems saying that "he has hit upon the
true spirit of pastoral poetry." Goldsmith has other keen criti-
cal remarks that point in the direction of the new spirit but they
do not bear directly on the study of nature. He is important
chiefly because of his interest in man as man, his close and sympa-
thetic delineation of the poor and ignorant.
James Beattie
(1742-1803)
•
In 1766 James Beattie had written 150 lines of The Minstrel.
The poem was then laid aside for the Essay on Truth and not
taken up again till 1770. The first book was pub-
lished anonymously in 1771. The second book
appeared with the author's name in 1774. The
poem consists of 122 Spenserian stanzas. Its design is “
"to trace
the progress of a poetical genius . till that period when he
may be supposed capable of appearing in the world as a minstrel,"
and its theme is really the effect of mountain scenery on a poet-
ically sensitive mind. The child, Edwin, is brought up in a
remote village among the Scotch hills, and his genius is devel-
oped through the varied influence of wild natural scenery until he
becomes "itinerant poet and musician." As a lad his chief pleas-
ure was to follow
"Where the maze of some bewilder'd stream
To deep untrodden groves his footsteps led."
He loved to climb craggy cliffs
"When all in mist the world below was lost.
What dreadful pleasure! There to stand sublime
Like shipwreck'd mariner on desert coast
And view the enormous waste of vapour, toss'd
'The Minstrel, Preface.
NATURE IN POETRY OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 149
He was
He listened
In billows, lengthening to the horizon round,
Now scoop'd in gulfs, with mountains now emboss'd."
And oft he traced the uplands, to survey,
When o'er the sky advanced the kindling dawn,
The crimson cloud, blue main and mountain gray.”
"Fond of each gentle, and each dreadful scene.
In darkness and in storm he found delight.”
"with pleasing dread, to the deep roar
Of the wide-weltering waves."
When storms came up in black
array
"He hastened from the haunt of man,
Along the trembling wilderness to stray."
He visited haunted streams by moonlight and let his imagina-
tion dwell on graves and ghosts. His soul was possessed by the
mystic transports" born of "melancholy and solitude." He
scanned all nature with a curious and romantic eye," and his
imagination was stirred by
(6
(
old heroic ditties,' by
"What'er of lore tradition could supply
From gothic tale, or song, or fable old."
The second stage of Edwin's education comes through his com-
panionship with a wise hermit, who, like Wordsworth's Solitary,
had “sought for glory in the paths of guile," but finally, dissat-
isfied with success and stung with remorse, had hidden himself
in a deep retired abode in the mountains, there to commune with
nature. From a lofty eminence Edwin chanced to look down
one day upon this savage dell, shut in by mountains and rocks
piled on rocks,and he saw the "one cultivated spot" with its
garden of roses and herbs, and he heard the voice of the hermit
soliloquizing on the vanity of human life. In subsequent inter-
views the hermit discoursed learnedly on history, art, and sciences.
The intrinsic value of this poem is not great. It is impor-
tant because of the conception which it embodies. Edwin finds
in nature adequate instruction and inspiration; the hermit, ade-
quate consolation.
His words are,
.
L
150
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
a
"Hail, awful scenes, that calm the troubled breast,
And woo the weary to profound repose!
Can passion's wildest uproar lay to rest,
And whisper comfort to the man of woes!"
2
Now the power of wild scenery over the plastic mind is exactly
Wordsworth's idea in his account of the Wanderer's youth,' and
the power of nature to minister to a mind diseased is one of the
leading thoughts in his account of the Solitary, while the
thought of tracing a child's experiences with nature until under
her tutelage he becomes a poet is the fundamental idea of the
Prelude.³ It is certainly of more than merely curious interest
thus to find in the rather vague, ineffective stanzas of the earlier
poet general conceptions which afterwards appear as the ruling
ideas of the poet confessedly greatest in his treatment of nature.
The character of Edwin was autobiographic and shows Beat-
tie's personal love of nature. In a letter to the Dowager Lady
Forbes, October, 1772, he wrote:
"I find you are willing to suppose that, in Edwin, I havẹ
given only a picture of myself as I was in my younger days. I
confess the supposition is not groundless. I have made him
take pleasure in the scenes in which I took pleasure, and enter-
tain sentiments similar to those of which, even in my early
youth, I had repeated experience. The scenery of a mountainous
country, the ocean, the sky, thoughtfulness and retirement, and
sometimes melancholy objects and ideas, had charms in my eyes,
even when I was a schoolboy: and at a time when I was so far
from being able to express, that I did not understand my own
feelings, or perceive the tendency of my own pursuits and
amusements."
Beattie never lost this keen delight in nature. When he was
schoolmaster at Fordoun, at the foot of the Grampian Hills, his
greatest pleasure was found in the neighboring mountains and
wooded glens. His biographer also says that he would fre-
quently "pass the whole night among the fields, gazing on the
¹ Wordsworth: The Excursion, 1: ll. 108–300.
2 Wordsworth: The Excursion, 4: ll. 466–600.
3 Wordsworth: The Prelude, "Advertisement."
NATURE IN POETRY OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 151
.'
sky, and observing the various aspects it assumed till the return
of day." Beattie's poems bear conclusive evidence of his love
of nature in all her forms. Mountains, and the sea, wild scenes
of various sorts, storms, torrents, night, clouds, the sky, streams,
meadows, groves, summer and winter, wide views, are regarded
with genuine delight. But there are certain curious limitations.
There are almost no specific flowers, birds, or trees mentioned in
all this abundant study of the external world. This use of the gen-
eral instead of the specific is one element of an effect too often
perceived, an indefiniteness of outline, a vague blurring of
edges, the result of which is not mysterious suggestiveness but
simply dimness and confusion. There is also an unexpected
feebleness of vocabulary and lack of direct observation. The
old word "murmur," for instance, is applied with wearisome
insistence to springs, rills, water, the ocean, pines, woods, groves,
and gales. So the interest in wild nature, when analyzed, shows
a rather monotonous and undiscriminating succession of cliffs
and precipices. But it would be unfair to press these limitations
too far. There are many true observations happily presented, as
in the following lines which are selected as illustrative:
"While waters, woods, and winds in concert join."
"The wild brook babbling down the mountain side."
"Torrents
Heard from afar amid the lonely night."
"And now the storm of summer rain is over
And cool and fresh and fragrant is the sky."
"When by the winds of autumn driven
The scatter'd clouds fly 'cross the Heaven.
Oft have we from some mountain's head
Beheld the alternate light and shade
Sweep along the vale.”
"The scared owl on pinions gray
Breaks from the rustling boughs
And down the lone vale sails away
To more profound repose."
He finds pleasure in old oak trees that
"from the stormy promontory tower
152 TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
And toss their giant arms amid the skies.”
In winter he watches
"The cloud stupendous, from the Atlantic wave
High towering, sail along the horizon blue."
Lines such as these show knowledge both fresh and close, and
the expression is marked by picturesque effectiveness.
But Beattie's real contribution to the study of nature lies, as
has been indicated, in his own personal enthusiasm, and his
steadfast belief in the effect of nature on man. In one stanza
he even set forth the doctrine, held to be sufficiently startling
forty years later in Wordsworth's day, that country rustics from
their familiarity with nature, gain a nicer sense of moral purity
than is known among the poor of a city. Upon all men he
urged the study of nature as a moral duty.
I
"These charms shall work thy soul's eternal health,
And love, and gentleness, and joy impart."2
The message of nature is one not to be ignored.
"O how canst thou renounce the boundless store
Of charms which Nature to her votary yields !
The warbling woodland, the resounding shore,
The pomp of groves, and garniture of fields;
All that the genial ray of morning gilds,
And all that echoes to the song of even,
All that the mountain's sheltering bosom shields,
And all the dread magnificence of Heaven,
O how canst thou renounce and hope to be forgiven!”
'The Minstrel, 1:52.
3 The Minstrel, 1:9.
2 The Minstrel, 1:10.
Of this stanza Gray said in a letter to Beattie, March, 1771,
113
"But this, of all others, is my favorite stanza. It is true poetry; it is inspira-
tion; only (to show it is mortal) there is one blemish; the word garniture sug-
gesting an idea of dress, and, what is worse, of French dress." Beattie said
he had often wished "to alter this same word, but had not been able to hit
upon a better."
Dyce's Memoir of Beattie, p. xxxvii.
Gray's praise of Beattie was faint compared to Beattie's admiration of Gray.
In 1765 he declared that he had "long and passionately admired " Gray's
writings. He thought Gray's poems finer than those of his contemporaries in
any nation.
He thought his taste most exact, his judgment most sound, and
his learning most extensive. See Dyce's Memoir of Beattie, p. xvi. and
xvi. and p. xviii.
NATURE IN POETRY IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 153
Though less popular than the Essay on Truth, Beattie's Min-
strel met with almost immediate favor. Lyttleton said to Mrs.
Montagu who sent him the first book in 1771:
"I read your 'Minstrel' last night, with as much rapture as
poetry, in her noblest, sweetest charms, ever raised in my soul. It
seemed to me that my once most beloved minstrel, Thomson, was
come down from heaven, refined by the converse of purer spirits
than those he lived with here, to let me hear him sing again the
beauties of virtue."
And Cowper wrote in 1784:
"Though I cannot afford to deal largely in so expensive a
commodity as books, I must afford to purchase at least the poet-
ical works of Beattie."2
Mr. Dyce says that the success of The Minstrel (Book First)
"was complete. The voice of every critic was loud in its praise;
and before the second book appeared, four editions of the first
had been dispersed throughout the kingdom.”3
The Minstrel is of importance in the historical development
of the poetry of nature because of the ideas it emphasizes, and
its immediate popularity is an indication of the change in taste
since the beginning of the century.
4
Most of John Scott's poems were on rural subjects, and he
is of especial interest because of his abundant and close observa-
tion of natural facts. Mr. Hoole says of him, "He
was certainly no servile copyist of the thoughts of
others; for, living in the country, and being a close
and accurate observer, he painted what he saw ; and again, “He
John Scott
(1730-1783)
¹ Dyce: Memoir of Beattie, p. xxxvi.
2 Cowper: Letter to Rev. William Unwin, April, 1784.
3 Dyce: Memoir of Beattie, p. xxxv.
* His chief poems are: Four Moral Eclogues (1773); four Elegies (pub.
1760 but written earlier); Amwell, A Descriptive Poem (pub. 1776 but written
1768); and Odes and Amœbæan Eclogues (1782). His Epistle on the Garden
and Essay on Painting will be spoken of later.
It is interesting to note the spirit of apology with which Scott's friends and
admirers comment on his choice of subjects. In such poetry there is little oppor-
tunity for genius, for, says Mr. Hoole, "A hill, a vale, a forest, a rivulet, a cat-
aract, can be described only by general terms; the hill must swell, the vale sink,
!
"
154
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
cultivated the knowledge of natural history and botany, which
enabled him to preserve the truth of nature with many discrimi-
nating touches, perhaps not excelled by any descriptive poet since
the days of Thomson." It was Scott's avowed purpose to enrich
poetry by the use of many natural facts not before observed. In
the introduction to the Amæbæan Eclogues he said, “Much of the
rural imagery which our country affords, has already been intro-
duced in poetry, but many obvious and pleasing appearances seem
to have totally escaped notice. To describe these is the business of
the following Eclogues." After this explicit announcement, two
gentle youths, in responsive verse, call attention to over two hun-
dred rapidly stated natural facts. A fact to a line is about the
average, as in these lines:
"These pollard oaks their tawny leaves retain,
These hardy hornbeams yet unstripped remain ;
The wint'ry groves all else admit the view
Through naked stems of many a varied hue."
"Old oaken stubs tough saplings there adorn."
"Straight shoots of ash with bark of glossy gray,
Red cornel twigs, and maple's russet spray."
"
There scabious blue, and purple knapweed rise,
And weld and yarrow show their various dyes."
In shady lanes red foxglove bells appear
And golden spikes the downy mullens rear."
There is
The second of these Eclogues has to do with the care of farms
and is as minute as Cowper's treatise on the cucumber.
nowhere in these poems any poetical fusion of facts. They read
rather like the notebooks of a professional observer. Yet it is
certainly significant to find at this date so persistent and sys-
the rivulet murmur, and the cataract foam." Mr. Hoole recognizes the "slight
estimation" in which descriptive poetry is commonly held, but thinks there are
devices to render it attractive and calls attention to the skill with which Mr.
Scott has made his poems "interesting by the introduction of historical inci
dents, apt allusions, and moral reflections."
'At this line Mr. Hoole's admiration broke down. He could only regret
hat Mr. Scott's desire for novelty had led him to admit such circumstances as
no versification can make poetical.
1
:
NATURE IN POETRY IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 155
tematic a search for natural facts, and that not in the service
of science but of poetry. In Amwell Scott calls on the Muse of
Thomson, Dyer, and Shenstone for his inspiration. The poem is
a description of the prospect from a certain "airy height" near
Amwell. A single illustration will show the minute observation
and catalogue style in this commemoration of "lonely sylvan
scenes."
'How picturesque
The slender group of airy elm, the clump
Of pollard oak, or ash, with ivy brown
Entwin'd; the walnut's gloomy breadth of boughs,
The orchard's ancient fence of rugged pales,
The haystack's dusty cone, the moss-grown shed,
The clay-built barn; the elder-shaded cot,
Whose whitewashed gable prominent through green
Of waving branches shows;
the wall with mantling vines
O'erspread, the porch with climbing woodbine wreath'd,
And under sheltering eves the sunny bench
Where brown hives range, whose busy tenants fill
With drowsy hum the little garden gay,
Whence blooming beans, and spicy herbs, and flowers,
Exhale around a rich perfume! Here rests
The empty wain; there idle lies the plough."
There is a pleasant homely grace in these lines about the cot-
tage, worth more than all the historical episodes "introduced to
secure interest." In the Elegies and Odes there is no use of nature
different from that observed in the other poems, unless, indeed,
mention should be made of Scott's belief that nature gives her
fairest smiles to those "who know a Saviour's love." One further
characteristic is to be found in a large number of the poems, and
that is enjoyment of a wide view. He describes views as seen
from "Musla's corn-clad heights," from "Grove Hill," the cliff
at Bath, from "Chadwell's cliffs," from "Widbury's prospect-
yielding hill," from "Upton's elm-divided plains," from "Clif-
ton's rock," from Amwell, and other spots. The poems read as
if he had spent many days climbing hills and prospecting for
views.
156
TREATMENT
TREATMENT OF NATURe in engliSH POETRY
:
William Blake.
(1757-1827)
William Blake's Poetical Sketches, published in 1783, were
written between 1769 and 1777. The Songs of Innocence appeared
in 1788-9; Book of Thel, 1789; The Marriage of
Heaven and Hell, 1790; and Songs of Experience
in 1794. In the first volume nature was the lead-
ing subject; in the next human interests were in the ascendant,
and nature was used only in fresh, ballad-like touches. In the
later work nature is slightly used and for the most part in the
form of mystical symbolism.
It was Blake's theory that man is "imprisoned in his five
senses," and he counted it his mission to reveal to closed eyes
the spiritual as the only real fact of existence. In his early work
this theory, as yet unexaggerated in application, led to a treat-
ment of nature, not untrue to facts, but characterized especially
by qualities of simplicity and vision such as are not found again
before Wordsworth. In these years of his youth Blake was essen-
tially the poet of childhood and spring in all their sweet potent,
indefinable charm.
"And I made a rural pen,
And I stained the water clear,
And I wrote my happy songs,
Every child may joy to hear,"
gives the keynote to these songs of delight. The joy of nature
is everywhere insisted on. The sun makes the sky happy; the
vales rejoice; spring cannot hide its joy when buds and blos-
soms come; the happy blossoms look on merry birds; groves
are happy and green woods rejoice; dimpling streams, the air,
green hills, meadows, and birds laugh with delight. Here is one
exquisite example:
"The moon like a flower
In heaven's high bower,
With silent delight,
Sits and smiles on the night." 3
He contrasts the clamour and destruction of city streets with
I See "Advertisement" to Poetical Sketches.
2“Introduction" to Songs of Innocence.
3 Night.
.
1
NATURE IN POETRY IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 157
1
the true joy in nature. In the silent woods, "Delights blossom
around. Numberless beauties blow. The green grass spring, in
joy, and the nimble air kisses the leaves. The brook stretches its
arms along the silent meadow; its silver inhabitants sport and
play. The youthful sun joys like a hunter roused to the chase.”
Blake cared much for sleep as the time when man was most
free from the tyranny of the senses. Many of his characters are
represented as asleep, and the conception is transferred to many
lovely scenes in nature. He pictures summer as sleeping beneath
oaks; flowers shut their eyes in sleep; the west wind sleeps on
the lake; and dawn sleeps in heaven. With this is associated an
evident pleasure in the silence of nature, apparently the pathetic
complement of its joys. There is a silent sleep over the deep of
heaven; the evening star speaks silence to the lake.
At night
the moon is silent, and the earth, and the sea.
Occasional passages show the character of Blake's own love
of nature, as,
"I love to rise on a summer morn,
"I love the laughing vale,"
"I love the echoing hill."
His feeling towards flowers was as intimate, as tenderly protect-
ing, as was that of Burns towards small animals. Sun and stars,
winds, clouds, dew, and angels are represented as caring for the
happy blossoms.
All of Blake's poetry of nature is as freshly beautiful as the
dewy mornings, the springtime green, the shining skies, as
clear and transparent as the limpid, dimpling streams he loved.
There are also frequent passages that beside their metrical flow
and exquisite charm of external suggestion seem to reveal the
essential spirit of the object described. One of the loveliest
examples is the word of the Lily of the Valley.
"I am a watry weed,
And I am very small and love to dwell in lowly vales
So weak the gilded butterfly scarce perches on my head.
Yet I am visited from heaven; and He that smiles on all
Walks in the valley, and each morn over me spreads his hand.
Contemplation.
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TREATMENT OF NATURE in ENGLISH POETRY
Saying, Rejoice, thou humble grass, thou new-born lilly flower,
Thou gentle maid of silent valleys and of modest brooks;
For thou shalt be clothed in light and fed with morning manna.
For fine contrasts, each poem perfect of its kind, see The Lamb
and The Tiger. The modest simplicity of the one is as ade-
quately portrayed as the dread magnificence of the other. There
is no description. There is interpretation of the most penetrat-
ing sort.
He has also frequent similes worked out with picturesque
detail, as in this one from The Couch of Death:
"He was like a cloud tossed by the winds, till the sun shine,
and the drops of rain glisten, the yellow harvest breathes, and the
thankful eyes of villagers are turned up in smiles; the traveller
that hath taken shelter under an oak, eyes the distant country
with joy."
One secret of the effectiveness of Blake's best work is his
recognition of the unity of all existence. The prefatory stanza
to Auguries of Innocence,
"To see a world in a grain of sand,
And a heaven in a wild flower;
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
And eternity in an hour,"
is a brief poetic statement of the creed afterwards elaborated in
Wordsworth's Primrose on the Rock and Tennyson's Flower in
the Crannied Wall. The thought back of the lines is the one in
Wordsworth's mind when he looked on "the meanest flower that
blows," It is this underlying consciousness of essential spiritual
unity in all existence that gives to the work of both Blake and
Wordsworth its subtle power.
There could hardly be two more dissimilar ways of approach-
ing nature than those of John Scott and William Blake. They
stand at opposite poles, the one with no sense of unity, no power
of poetic fusion or interpretation, but with a wide, accurate, and
often picturesque assemblage of natural facts; the other with a
prevailing tone of unreality and mysticism, a fine scorn of the
actual, but with a swift recognition of the spirit of nature, and
'Book of Thel.
NATURE IN POETRY IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 159
an abiding sense of cosmic unity. Yet each represents a charac-
teristic phase of the new feeling for nature as seen in Words-
worth. On the one hand, the practised eye and the inevitable
ear; on the other, the vision and the faculty divine.
In its significance as a prophecy of Wordsworth and Shelley
the early poetry of William Blake is of especial importance.
George Crabbe
1754-1832)
Crabbe's poetry falls into two periods, the first one closing
with The Newspaper in 1785, and the second beginning with
The Parish Register after an interval of twenty-two
years. In the first of these periods we find but
slight use of external nature. The occasional
similitudes are of a formal conventional type The
two longest descriptive passages are of a dismal winter scene,'
and of some sterile summer fields that mock man's need with
profitless blooms. There is no expression of pleasure in nature.
It is her pitiless, anti-human aspects that Crabbe sees.
charm of nature independent of utility seems to have no meaning
He consciously repudiates
for him.
"Clear skies, clear streams, soft banks, and sober bowers,
Deer, whimpering brooks, and wind-perfuming flowers,"
The
as unworthy poetic material.³ Rough or barren nature as the
background or occasion of man's misery is the thought of these
early poems.
Crabbe's second period does not properly belong in a study.
of development which has The Lyrical Ballads as its terminus
ad quem, but it may be briefly spoken of here because of the
interesting contrast it offers to the first period. A suggestive
study might be made of the descriptive element in The Village
(1783) as compared with that of The Borough (1810). The
scene of each is a seaside village on the Suffolk coast, but we
note many changes in the presentation. In the first place, in
The Borough nature plays a much more important part than in
The Village. There is a leisurely elaborateness of description as
if the poet enjoyed the work for its own sake. There is, to be
sure, insistence on the ugly realistic details of the scenes about a
Inebriety.
2 The Village.
3 The Choice.
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TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
country town, but there is in addition a recognition that even
along this rocky coast and in these barren fields where nature
defies man's industry there may be found her gift of beauty.
The "greedy ocean" of The Village is now "a glorious page of
nature's book" on which the poorest may gaze with delight.
The firm, fair sands on quiet summer evenings, the lovely
"limpid blue and evanescent green" as shadows run over the
waves on a fresh day, serene winter-views where strange effects of
fog add mystery to the scene, the majesty of a storm at sea—all
these are now reckoned a part of the pleasures of the poor in a
seaside village. The sterile fields, too, have rare blossoms and
curious grasses.
There are pleasant walks with every scene rich
in beauty. The evening twilight is sweet with jasmine odors.¹
The Borough is as realistic as The Village, but it has a broader
outlook and depicts the attractive as well as the forbidding
aspects of the Suffolk coast near Aldborough. In later poems the
scope becomes still wider. Besides the frequent strong and
truthful ocean pictures there are some beautiful descriptions of
autumn days, moonlight nights, and soft, rich inland scenes.
is especially noteworthy that though there are seldom any gay or
bright aspects of nature presented, yet nature is no longer repre-
sented as a force inimical to man. On the contrary, there is
something in even her most useless forms that gives to man a
strangely profound pleasure. The simple music of a cascade has
in it a soothing power that words will not express. In the clear,
silent night there is a quiet joy that lessens the sting of mortal
pain. These positive expressions of pleasure in nature are not
numerous, but they are important as marking a distinct change of
tone. They are the more significant because they occur chiefly
in the poems after 1819.
It
Yet it must not pass unnoticed that what Crabbe wrote in
these late poems, he had perceived and felt in his youth., In
his description of Richard he gives an account of his own boy-
hood. Of the ocean he says,
I loved to walk where none had walked before,
About the rock that ran along the shore.
The Borough: especially Letters I and 9.
:
NATURE IN POETRY IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 161
i
Here had I favorite stations, where I stood
And heard the murmurs of the ocean flood,
With not a sound beside, except when flew
Aloft the lapwing, or the gray curlew.
Pleasant it was to view the sea-gulls strive
Against the storm, or in the ocean dive
With eager scream, or when they dropping gave
Their closing wings to sail upon the wave.
Nor pleased it less around me to behold
Far up the beach the yesty sea-foam rolled;
Or from the shore upborne, to see on high
Its frothy flakes in wild confusion fly:
While the salt spray that clashing billows form
Gave to the taste a feeling of the storm." -
He recalls how he explored every creek and bay, how he took long
walks over the hilly heath and mossy moors. Most of the scenery in
The Borough as well as that in The Village is a memory picture of
the country he knew so well in boyhood. It seems strange that this
genuine love and accurate knowledge of nature should not have
found fuller expression in his early poetry. The explanation is
perhaps twofold. His interest was primarily in man. He
said that the finest scenes in nature were less attractive to him
than faces on a crowded street. He meant to be the portrait
painter of poor people as he had seen them in a seaside village.
His bitter pictures of country vice and ignorance and folly had
in them no touch of patronage or contempt. He simply gave a
hard, truthful representation of sordid life, and nature had no
meaning for him except as it is brought into connection with
that life. When in after years his own lot was a happier one,
and when a wider experience had brought him into contact with
thrifty country folk, the bitterness of his early thought of man
was greatly modified. With new views of man came an openness
of mind to the gentler aspects of nature. The real love of his
boyhood, no longer crushed down by an overmastering sense
of human misery, was allowed free play. Furthermore his later
I Tales of the Hall, Bk. 4.
Uor M
162
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
work was doubtless influenced by the new spirit of poetry about
him. His son says that while at first but a cool admirer of the
Lake poets, he came soon to love them and took no books
oftener in his hands. All of Crabbe's work in which there is
much use of nature comes more than ten years after the Lyrical
Ballads, hence his growingly full use of nature might easily be
due in part to the influence of the new school of poetry. His
free life, the different class of peasants he saw, the new poetry he
was reading, would all have their effect in turning his attention to
nature. But the nature he chose to write about was that which
he had known and loved as a boy.
William Cowper
(1731-1800)
William Cowper as a poet of nature, is marked first by the nar-
rowness of the limits within which he writes. Mountains' are merely
mentioned. Night is nowhere described. Moon-
light plays no part in his poetry. The stars are
occasionally spoken of, but only in a conventional
manner as “shining hosts, ""fair ministers of light," or "beamy
fires." Of wild scenery there is none. The nearest approach
to it is in two brief descriptions of rocky bluffs on the sea-
shore.3 His references to the ocean are brief and not of much
importance; nor are there any storms except in a few lines about
a driving, dashing rain" with thunder and lightning used as
an “apt similitude.” The one winter storm is merely a gentle
fall of snow that comes after the evening curtains are tight
drawn.5 The similitudes, though often carefully elaborated,
show little if any new use of nature, and they are drawn from
a small number of natural facts."
66
I In a letter to Newton, Nov. 16, 1791, he wrote:
I would that I could see some of the mountains which you have seen;
especially because Dr. Johnson has pronounced that no man is qualified to be a
poet who has never seen a mountain. But mountains I shall never see, unless,
perhaps, in a dream, or unless there are such in heaven."
2 See Task, 1:764; 4:254-258. The best lines on the moon are in Task, 4:3,
"the wintry flood, in which the moon
Sees her unwrinkled face reflected bright."
170
3 Task, 1:520; 6:495.
4 Truth, 238.
5 Task, 4:322.
6 Illustrative similitudes are those drawn from the thunder-storm (Truth,
NATURE IN POETRY IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 163
no
The explanation of this narrowness of limit is twofold.
Cowper described only what he had seen,' and he had seen
country but his own, and only a very small and comparatively
uninteresting portion of that. The Downs about Bath, where he
seems to have been for a short time when he was about eighteen,
was the nearest approach to wild scenery that he had ever known.
During the seventeen years before the writing of The Task he
had seldom left Olney, and never for a fortnight together."
knowledge was further limited by his continued ill health.
was ignorant of certain phases of the out-door world simply
because his physical infirmities kept him in the house.
His
He
This explanation of the narrow range of the nature in Cow-
per's poetry is not entirely satisfactory, for when we come to his
letters we find suggestions of a wider experience and sympathy
than the poems would indicate. In a letter to Joseph Hill he
wrote:
"I was always an admirer of thunderstorms, even before I
knew whose voice I heard in them; but especially an admirer
of thunder rolling over the great waters. There is something
singularly majestic in the sound of it at sea, where the eye and
the ear have uninterrupted opportunity of observation, and the
concavity above, being made spacious, reflects it with more
advantage.
We have indeed been regaled with some
of those bursts of etherial music.
But when the thun-
der preaches, an horizon bounded by the ocean is the only
sounding board."
To the Rev. William Unwin, Sept. 26, 1781, he wrote:
"I think, with you, that the most magnificent object under
heaven is the great deep; and can not but feel an unpolite
species of astonishment when I consider the multitudes that
view it without emotion, and even without reflection. In all its
various forms it is an object of all others the most suited to affect
238), deer (Task, 3: 108), peacocks and pheasants (Truth, 58), elm and vine
Retirement, 129); moles (Task, 1:276), etc.
In a letter to Rev. William Unwin, Oct. 1784, Cowper wrote "My des-
criptions are all from nature; not one of them second-handed."
2 To Lady Herbert, Oct. 12, 1785.
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164
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
us with lasting impressions of the awful power that created and
controls it. I am the less inclined to think this negligence
excusable, because, at a time of life when I gave as little attention
to religious subjects as any man, I yet remember that the waves
would preach to me, and that in the midst of dissipation I had
an ear to hear them. One of Shakespeare's characters says, ‘I
am never merry when I hear sweet music.' The same effect that
harmony seems to have had upon him I have experienced from
the sight and sound of the ocean, which have often composed
my thoughts into a melancholy not unpleasing nor without its
use."
He had also, during these years at Olney, made many
an imaginary evening journey to remote lands by means of
books of travel, of which he was especially fond. But when he
came to write poems, only what he had known at first hand
and with long familiarity occurred to him. Experiences merely
casual, or remote in time, and facts gained from books slipped
He remembered only what he habitually saw. The
scenes about Olney he knew, literally, by heart, and of these he
away.
wrote.
4
A characteristic excellence of Cowper's treatment of nature is
that, within his narrow circuit, his knowledge is of unusual ful-
ness and accuracy. The charm of truthful description is every-
where apparent. In pictures of homely country occupations,
such as feeding the hens,' foddering the cattle, cutting wood,³
plowing, threshing, there are no false touches, no hasty work.
All is the result of first-hand, leisurely, sympathetic observation.
His description of the garden is from memory, but it almost
seems as if he were walking from flower to flower and taking
notes, so minute is the characterization, so exact each epithet in
the representation of the various colors, forms, odors, and ways
of growth of the flowers in this garden that the poet sees under
the snows of winter'
The same love of precise detail is illustrated in his descrip-
tions of trees. In noting their color he does not, like Thomson,
¹ Task, 5:58.
2 Task, 5:27.
3 Task, 5:41.
4 Task, 1:161.
5 Task, 1:358.
6 Task, 6:147.
NATURE IN POETRY IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 165
enjoy general, broadly inclusive words, but he gives the exact
shade and tells to what tree it belongs. When he takes a walk
he sees that the trunks of the ash, the lime, and the beech shine
distinctly under their shadowy foliage. The willow is a "wan-
nish gray." The poplar is likewise gray, but there is a touch of
silver in the lining of the leaves. The elm is deeper green than
the ash, and the oak of a deeper green still. The maple, the
beech, and the lime have glossy leaves that shine in the sun.
The sycamore changes from green to tawny, and then to scarlet,
according to the season."
This highly differentiated knowledge is evident also in various
passages on the sounds of nature. In a letter to Newton he
wrote: "The notes of all our birds and fowls please me, without
one exception; .
and as to insects.
. in whatever
key they sing, from the gnat's fine treble to the bass of the hum-
ble bee, I admire them all."
Equally specific is his record of the sounds from winds and
waters, as in these lines:
"Rills that slip
Through the cleft rock, and chiming as they fall
Upon loose pebbles, lose themselves at length
In matted grass that with a livelier green
Betrays the secret of their silent course." 2
Or these about forest sounds:
Mighty winds
That sweep the skirt of some far-spreading wood
Of ancient growth, make music not unlike
The dash of ocean on his winding shore." 3
In wider descriptions, as of extended views, there is abso-
lutely no blurring of edges. The picture is as clear, distinct,
and exact as a photograph. There is no inartistic mixing of
foreground and background. A good example is the view
described in the first book of The Task. The eye travels over
the landscape with its river shining like molten glass; on its
"Task, I: 304.
2Task, 1:195.
3Task, I: 185.
4Task, I: 159.
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TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
banks droop the elms, on either side are level plains sprinkled
with cattle, beyond is the sloping land covered with hedgerows,
groves, heaths, with here and there a square tower or tall spire,
and in the distance smoking towns; and at last the scene is lost
in the clouds on the horizon.
Note
Many little pictures, complete in a few lines, serve even
better to illustrate the exquisite truth of Cowper's work.
this description of the shifting lights in a forest pathway:
While beneath
The chequered earth seems restless as a flood
Brushed by the wind. So sportive is the light
Shot through the boughs, it dances as they dance,
Shadow and sunshine intermingling quick,
And darkening and enlightening, as the leaves
Play wanton, every moment, every spot."'
Or this of the squirrel just come from winter quarters in some
lonely elm
"Flippant, pert, and full of play:
He sees me, and at once, swift as a bird,
Ascends the neighboring beech; there whisks his brush,
And perks his ears, and stamps, and cries aloud,
With all the prettiness of feign'd alarm
And anger insignificantly fierce."
Equally felicitous are the descriptions of tall grass fledged
with icy feathers on a frosty morning,3 or of the red-breast in a
sheltered woodland path in winter. These pictures and other
similar ones immediately take a permanent place in one's mental
picture gallery! It would be difficult indeed for a painting to
make the light dance as it does in that forest path. The squirrel
absolutely tingles with life. The right word comes easily and
the lines show exquisite deftness of literary touch. It is rare in
any poetry to find more excellent examples of pure description
I than these and other passages in The Task. Cowper had the i
mind that watches and receives. He looked about him and
wrote down in simple, sincere words the loveliness he found. He
took notes, but they were of the right sort, mental and uncon-
I Task, I: 346.
2 Task, 6: 310.
3 Task, 5:22.
4 Task, 6:77.
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NATURE IN FOETRY IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 167
scious, the inevitable imprint on a sensitive mind of scenes that
had ministered to his deepest need.
3
2
The ministry of nature to human needs is a cardinal prin-
ciple in Cowper's poetry. Nor was this conception merely theo-
retic. It was rather a transcript from his own experience. From
childhood he had loved nature,' and poems about nature, and he
had always planned to live in the country. After years of dis-
appointment and terrifying fears comparative peace came to him
amid quiet country scenes. The instincts of his early days
revived. Nature offered him a paradise of rich delights. She
enchanted him. She gave him heart-consoling joys. She sweet-
ened his bitter life, alluring him with smiles from gloom to hap-
piness. The glory of each new morning was a lesson in hope.
He found in nature the nurse of wisdom, a power that could
compose his passions and exalt his mind. He felt that in the
country God spoke directly to his heart.*
The obverse of this genuine love of the country is an equally
genuine detestation of the town and town standards. The crowds
that swarm to city streets are the subjects of repeated invectives,
and there is even more emphatic scorn of sham lovers of nature,
as cockneys in suburban villas; girls who but for the show and
dress-parade of the country would hurry back to the city; men
who love hunting and fishing, and call it a love of nature; senti-
mentalists, who exclaim over Thomson's poetry, but prefer to read
it in the city. His own relationship with nature was too intimate
and too sacred to admit of indifference or profanation on the
part of others.
5
Cowper's literary use of nature was largely determined by hist
¹ Task, 1; 109, 142.
2
Task, 4:700.
3 4:695.
4 See Hope, 11, .39-60; Task, 3:721; 4:780; 3:301; and other passages.
In the passage from Hope compare the line :
And Wordsworth's
She spreads the morning over Eastern hills,"
"A boy I loved the sun
for this cause that I had seen him lay
His beauty on the morning hills."
5 See Retirement, 481, 563; Task, 3:314; 3: 306.
-Prelude, 2: 183.
f
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168
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
purpose in writing.
His poetical thesis received its dogmatic
summing up in the famous dictum,
“God made the country and man made the town.
and to the establishment of this thesis nearly all his use of
nature is made more or less directly subservient.
This is clearly seen in his use of summaries. He has a habit
of analyzing nature into separate facts and then classifying these
facts under topics. For instance, to make a list of his sounds
one hardly needs to search through the poems. They will be
found already grouped together. So, too, the garden flowers, the
greenhouse flowers, the colors of trees, country occupations, and
country pleasures, are arranged under heads instead of being
scattered through various descriptions. Then there are many
summaries of miscellaneous facts. Now the literary purpose of
nearly every assemblage of details is the establishment or illus-
tration of some point connected with the general conception
of the superior attractions of the country. The catalogues of
facts have a definite argumentative value, and the artistic selec-
tion of these facts out of the mass known is determined by the
especial point under consideration. In Retirement there is a rapid
enumeration of many phases of nature in various seasons, the
purpose being to show that all forms of nature are pleasing to a
poet's mind The following passage is a good example of a sum-
mary the purpose of which is to present a concrete, picturesque,
amplified statement of the creed that nature gives a wisdom
higher than can come from books:
"But trees, and rivulets, whose rapid course
Defies the check of winter, haunts of deer,
And sheep-walks populous with bleating lambs,
And lanes, in which the primrose ere her time
Peeps through the moss that clothes the hawthorn root,
Deceive no student. Wisdom there, and truth,
Not shy, as in the world, and to be won
By slow solicitation, seize at once
1
The roving thought, and fix it on themselves."
1 Task, 1:749.
2 Task, 6: 109; cf. lines 84-117 Wordsworth in The Tables Turned;
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NATURE IN POETRY IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 169
Frequent summaries are used to show that in the country
God gives especial revelations of his power. The long flower
catalogue is to show that the beauty of the flushing spring
but speaks to man of the indwelling of God.' The ceaseless
activity of nature is attested by another summary.² Still fur-
ther summaries illustrate the power of nature over the man
wearied with cares of state.³ The beautiful summary of rural
sounds is to show the exhilarating effect of nature on the languid
mind and heart. It is this underlying purpose that gives unity
to passages which would otherwise be hardly more than cata-
logues.
Another characteristic way in which Cowper presents nature
is in descriptive passages used as a background for his own medi-
tative figure. The beautiful description of the sheltered path
where he walked in winter 5 would lose much of its meaning if
we were not throughout conscious of the poet's presence and his
delighted response to all the influences about him. Nearly all
the passages that might otherwise be called pure description are
given warmth and tone by the fact that we go with the poet, and,
as it were, hear him talk about the scene as one he has long
known and loved, until it takes from him the interest of person-
ality, or we seem to see him in semi-identification with the
scenes. It is the apparent equality, the comradeship, between
"Books! 'tis a dull and endless strife,
Come forth into the light of things,
Let Nature be your teacher.
She has a world of ready wealth
Our minds and hearts to bless.
Sweet is the lore which Nature brings;
Our meddling intellect
Mis-shapes the beauteous forms of things."
See also, To My Sister:
"One moment now may give us more
Than years of toiling reason."
Task, 6: 121-197.
2 Task, 1:369.
3 Retirement, 419.
4 Task, 6: 181.
5 Task, 6:59.
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TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
"
1
the hare, the squirrel, and the poet in the solitary winter retreat
that adds to the beauty of the spot the needed human touch.
Nature is thus suffused with human experience and takes on a
new interest. But it usually happens that these descriptions
become, further, either the appropriate setting for a certain train
of reflections on the part of the poet, or they directly suggest
these suggestions. In the winter retreat just spoken of the fear-
less, innocent animal life becomes the occasion of a long disqui- .
sition on the lesson of benevolence taught by nature to man.
In the sheltered walk the poet finds his mind soothed and pre-
pared for a Wordsworthian contemplation on nature as the
teacher of the wise, so that ultimately many of Cowper's descrip-
tions, as well as his summaries, become contributary to his main
purpose.
Cowper's knowledge of natural facts was not more remark-
able than John Scott's. His range was much narrower than
Thomson's. Other men had loved nature with passionate
intensity. To other minds nature had suggested deep thoughts
of God and man. Cowper came when many elements of the
new attitude towards nature had been voiced. What marks him
out as holding a unique position is not only that he gave body
and emphasis to the new thought, but especially that be became
its propagandist. He analyzed the effect of nature on man, he
translated his personal experiences into a theory which he set
himself to interpret and promulgate. He wrote with the zeal of
a convert. Joy such as had come to him late in life was man's
natural heritage. Men must be called back from the perverted
and ruinous life of towns to the simplicity of nature. His
theme is stated abstractly, repeated in concrete form, illustrated
and amplified with the patience and ardor of absolute conviction.
He was the preacher of the new religion of nature.
Robert Burns was deeply sensitive to the charms of nature.`
In a letter to Mrs. Dunlop he said:
Robert Burns
(1759-1796)
"I have some favorite flowers in Spring,
among which are the mountain-daisy, the hare-
bell, the foxglove, the wild brier-rose, the bud-
ding birk and the hoary hawthorn, that I view and hang over,
NATURE IN POETRY IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 171
with particular delight. I never hear the loud, solitary whistle of
the curlew in a Summer noon, or the wild mixing cadence of a
troop of grey-plover, in an Autumnal morning, without feeling
an elevation of soul like the Enthusiasm of Devotion or Poetry.¹
Again he says:
•
“I have various sources of pleasure which are in a manner
peculiar to myself.
Such is the peculiar pleas-`
ure I take in the season of Winter more than in the rest of the
year.
There is scarcely any earthly object
gives me more-I don't know if I should call it pleasure, but
something which exalts me, something which enraptures me,
than to walk in the sheltered side of a wood or high plantation
in a cloudy winter day, and hear a stormy wind howling among
the trees and raving o'er the plain. It is my best season for devo-
tion; my mind is rapt up in a kind of enthusiasm to Him who
walks on the wings of the wind.” ²
Note also what Mr. Walker, his companion on the Border
Tour, says of him :
"I had often, like others, experienced the pleasures which
arise from the sublime or elegant landscape, but I never saw
those feelings so intense as in Burns. When we reached a rustic
hut on the river Tilt, where it is overhung by a woody precipice,
from which there is a noble waterfall, he threw himself on the
heathy seat, and gave himself up to a tender, abstracted, and
I Burns: Works, Vol. 5, p. 185.
2 Burns, Works, Vol. 1, p, 28.
Cf. lines in the Epistle to William Simson.
"Ev'n winter bleak has charms to me,
When winds rave thro' the naked tree;
Or frosts on hills of Ochiltree
Are hoary gray;
Or blinding drifts wild-furious flee
Dark'ning the day!
O Nature! a' thy shews and forms
To feeling, pensive hearts hae charms,
Whether the summer kindly warms
Wi' life an' light;
Or winter howls, in gusty storms,
The lang, dark night."
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TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
voluptuous enthusiasm of imagination.
It was
with much difficulty that I prevailed upon him to leave the spot.""
He
This susceptibility to nature was one of the signs by which
"Coila" knew that Burns would be the poet of Scotland.
represents her as saying to him :
"I saw thee seek the sounding shore,
Delighted with the dashing roar ;
Or when the North his fleecy store
Drove thro' the sky
I saw grim Nature's visage hoar
Struck thy young eye.
"Or when the deep green-mantled earth
Warm cherished ev'ry floweret's birth,
And joy and music pouring forth.
In ev'ry grove ;
I saw thee eye the general mirth
With boundless love."2
In his Commonplace Book, Burns records his eager desire to
write verse that shall make "the fertile banks of Irvine, the roman-
tic woodlands & sequestered scenes on Aire, and the healthy,
mountainous source, & winding sweep of Doon emulate Tay,
Forth, Ettrick, Tweed, &c."3 And his love of nature was limited
in scope to just these scenes of which he speaks. He had no
interest in mountains or the sea. Mr. Douglas calls attention to
the fact that, "living in full face of the Arran hills he never names
them." 4
He was as narrow in his limits and as vividly local in
the nature he chose to represent as was Cowper, but what he
loved he loved with intensity. In the beautiful and picturesque
scenery about Ayr he found poetic inspiration. To William
Simson he said,
• Burns: Works, Vol. 4, p. 272.
2 Burns: Works, Vol. 4, p. 91.
4 Burns: Works, Vol. 1, p.18
3 The Vision.
In one poem Burns declares that he prefers "wild mossy moors to
Forth's sunny shores," but a characteristic reason,
"For there by a lanely sequestered stream
Resides a sweet lassie, my thought and my dream,"
forbids the use of the passage as a proof of real enjoyment of the wild in nature.
•
7
$
L
NATURE IN POETRY IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 173
"The muse, nae poet ever fand her,
Till by himself he learn'd to wander,
Adown some trottin burn's meander,
An' no think tang;
"}
and in The Brigs of Ayr he says the simple bard may learn his
tuneful trade from every bough.
Burns's knowledge of the nature about him was abundant and
exact, and he was keenly critical of any note of falsity in the
poems of others. He objected to the "Banks of the Dee"
because of the line,
"And sweetly the nightingale sang from the tree.”
"In the first place," he said, "the nightingale sings in a low bush,
but never from a tree; and in the second place, there never was
a nightingale seen or heard on the banks of the Dee, nor the banks
of
any
other river in Scotland. Exotic, rural imagery is always
comparatively flat.":
Again he said of another song, "It is a fine song, but for consis-
tency's sake, alter the name ‘Adonis.”” Was there ever such
banns published, as a purpose of marriage between Adonis and
Mary? These Greek and Roman pastoral appellations have a
flat, insipid effect in a Scot song." He gives especial praise to
Rev. Dr. Cririe, because "like Thomson," the poet had "looked
into nature for himself," and had nowhere been content with a
copied description."3
When Burns wrote a descriptive poem of set purpose he was
comparatively commonplace and uninteresting as in The Fall of
Foyers or Admiring Nature. His best descriptions come in, by
chance às it were, in the midst of some vivid human interests.
One of the most beautiful is a stanza in Halloween.
Whyles owre a linn the burnie plays,
As thro' the glen it wimpl't;
Whyles round a rocky scaur it strays,
Whyles in a wiel it dimpl't;
Whyles glitter'd ta the nightly rays,
Wi' bickerin, dancin dazzle;
'Burns: Works, Vol. 6, p. 242.
2 Burns: Works, 6, p. 241.
3 Burns: Works, 5, p. 165.
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174 TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
Whyles cookit underneath the braes,
Below the spreading hazle
Unseen that night."
Work so perfect as this is rare in any age. The beauty of the
poem is simply the beauty of the stream itself.
I
Burns's chief use of nature, however, is in connection with
man. External nature is illustration, background, frame, for human
emotions. The Lass of Cressnock Banks was written at twenty-two
and is the first one of his poems in which there is any distinct use
of nature. It is merely an assemblage of twelve formally drawn
out similes to represent the beauty of the lassie. Some of these
similes are conventional and unmeaning, as when her hair is lik-
ened to curling mist on a mountain side, ' her forehead to a rain-
bow, her lips to ripe cherries, and her teeth to a flock of sheep.
In later poems the similitudes are simpler and sweeter, but they
are drawn from a small number of facts and those of the more
obvious sort, as the "simmer morn," "the flower in May," "the
opening rose." A much more effective use of nature is as dra-
matic background either by congruity or contrast. As fine exam-
ples of the use of nature to give the keynote of the human emo-
tion it accompanies we have the opening lines of the Elegy,
Farewell Song to the Banks of Ayr, Raving winds around her
blowing, and Farewell to Ballochmyle. The more usual form is to
represent a natural picture in contrast to the human emotion,
as in The Chevalier's Lament, The Lament of Mary, Queen of
Scots, or, best of all, The Banks of Doon.
"Ye banks and braes o' bonny Doon,
How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair?
How can ye chant ye little birds,
And I sae weary, fu' of care!"
It is characteristic of Burns that his knowledge was wider
and his sympathy keener in the realm of animate than of inani-
mate nature. He apparently thought of animals almost as if
they had been human. The address to a mouse is as tenderly and
genuinely sympathetic as if it had been to a hurt child. On
¹ Burns warmly admired Ossian, and this phrase sounds like an echo from
one of the Ossian poems.
NATURÈ IN POETRY OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 175
2
winter nights he listens to the wind and cannot sleep for think-
ing of the "ourie cattle" and "silly sheep" and helpless birds
that "cow'r" with "chittering wing."* He scorned hunting and
said there was no warm poetic heart that did not inly bleed at
man's savage cruelty. He found it impossible to reconcile
so-called "sport" with his ideas of virtue.³ He knew animals,
especially birds, in an intimate, friendly fashion. In the descrip-
tion of their manners and habits there is the most minute real-
ism. The following phrases are illustrative: "Ye grouse that
99 66 Ye
crap the heather bud," "Ye curlews calling thro'a clud;
whirring paitrick brood;" "Ye fisher herons watching eels;"
"sooty coots;" "speckled teals;""whistling plover;"
and
Clam'ring craiks at close o' day
'Mang fields o' flow'ring clover gay;"
"Ye duck and drake, wi' airy wheels
Circling the lake.” 4
In accurate first-hand observation, in abundant knowledge, in
the use of felicitous descriptive epithets, in great personal joy
in nature, in delight in winter, in love for animals, and in a criti-
cal estimate of the value of truthful portrayal Burns represents
the new spirit.
William
5
"fathers "
William Lisle Bowles is another of the reputed
of modern poetry. His slender title to the distinction
thus conferred upon him by Charles Cowden.
Clarke, rests on the admiration of Coleridge,"
Southey, and Lovel' for his early poems. From
1798 to the end of his life Bowles wrote con-
4 Burns: Elegy on Captain Henderson.
Lisle Bowles
(1762-1785)
' Burns: Works, Vol. 2, p. 33.
2 Burns: The Brigs of Ayr.
8
5 Bowles: Poetical Works, Vol. 2.
❝See Sonnet by Coleridge.
3 Burns: Works, Vol. 5, p. 231.
7" My friend Mr. Crutwell, the printer, wrote a letter saying that two young
gentlemen, strangers, one a particularly handsome and pleasing youth, lately
from Westminster School, and both literary and intelligent, spoke in high
commendation of my volume." See preface to ed. of 1837, Bowles' Poems.
8 Fourteen Sonnets, 1789. The same with additions, 1790. The same
reproduced with illustrations. 1798.
176
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
4
stantly, so the list of his works is a long one; but in the present
study we are concerned only with the poems before 1798, the
ones that stirred Coleridge to abandon metaphysics for poetry.
From fourteen to nineteen years of age Bowles was in Win-
chester school under the tutelage of Dr. Joseph Warton, who
won the boy's confidence and inspired him with his own tastes.
In the Monody on the Death of Dr. Warton, written eighteen
years after these school days, Bowles says of Warton,
"Thy cheering voice,
O Warton! bade my silent heart rejoice,
And wake to love of nature; every breeze
On Itchin's brink was melody; the trees
Waved in fresh beauty;
And witness thou
Catherine, upon whose foss-encircled brow
We met the morning, how I loved to trace
The prospect spread around.
So passed my days with new delight.”
Warton also taught him to love literature. He learned to read
Greek poets with "young-eyed sympathy," and he went with
"holier joy" to
"The lonely heights where Shakespeare sat sublime."
Charmed, the lad bent his soul
"Great Milton's solemn harmonies to hear."
“Unheeded midnight hours" were beguiled by the wild song of
Ossian, and his fancy found a "magic spell" in the Odes of his
master, Dr. Warton.
The influences of these early school days had awakened Bowles
to love of nature and of poetry, and when sorrow came it was to
nature and to poetry that be turned for relief. His Sonnets are the
direct and genuine expression of a personal grief. They were
composed, he says, during a tour in which he "sought forgetful-
ness of the first disappointment in early affections," and they are
pervaded by a melancholy unmistakably real. But along with
this deep sadness is a frequent recognition of the power of nature
¹ Bowles: Poems, Introduction to edition of 1837.
-
NATURE IN POETRY OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 177
"" I
to give at least temporary respite from grief. Not only does she
steep each sense in still delight, but she bestows “a soothing
The lovely sights and sounds of morning
charm."2
774
"Touch soft the wakeful nerve's according string." 3
The river Itchen brings "solace to his heart.'
the Cherwell he says:
After visiting
"Whate'er betide, yet something have I won
Of solace, that may bear me on serene." 5
In the midst of sorrow he is
"Thankful that still the landscape beaming bright
Can wake the wonted sense of pure delight."
What Bowles saw in nature was largely determined by his state
of mind. His own sadness led him to a quick perception of the
pensive or melancholy suggestions in any scene. He loved
sequestered streams, romantic vales, the hush of evening. The
sounds he heard were soft and plaintive. The river Wainsbeck
makes "a plaintive song among its "mossy-scattered rocks."7
He listens to the wind and seems to hear a plaint of sorrow. Sea
sounds are
I
"
'Like melodies that mourn upon the lyre."9
"There is strange music in the stirring wind
When lowers the autumal eve.
Of the bells at Ostend he says:
¹ Hope.
"And hark! with lessening cadence now they fall;
And now, along the white and level tide,
They fling their melancholy music wide;
Bidding me many a tender thought recall
2 The Tweed Visited,
3 Elegy Written at the Hotwells, Bristol.
4 To the River Itchen.
5 The River Cherwell.
Elegy Written at the Hotwells, Bristol.
7 The River Wainsbeck. cf. Akenside.
8 The River Wainsbeck.
9 At Tynemouth Priory.
10 Absence.
8
>
:
A
178
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
Of summer days, and those delightful years
When from an ancient tower, in life's fair prime,
The mournful magic of their mingling chime
First waked my wondering childhood into tears.”
Again, his own striving after self-control leads him to look with
pleasure on such natural objects as have withstood the shock of
tempests. Rugged Malvern Hill, on which the "parting sun sits
smiling," teaches him a lesson of victory over grief, and he
exclaims,
"Ev'n as thou
Dost lift in the pale beam thy forehead high,
Proud mountain! whilst the scattered vapours fly
Unheeded round thy breast
so, with calm brow
The shades of sorrow I may meet, and wear
The smile unchanged of peace, though pressed by care!"
Some of the brief descriptions in these sonnets are beautiful in
themselves, as
"How shall I meet thee, Summer, wont to fill
My heart with gladness, when thy pleasant tide
First came, and on the Coomb's romantic side
Was heard the distant cuckoo's hollow bill."3
Or this from Dover Cliffs,
"On these white cliffs, that calm above the flood
Uprear their shadowing heads, and at their feet
Hear not the surge that has for ages beat,
How many a lonely wanderer has stood !
And, whilst the lifted murmur met his ear,
And o'er the distant billows the still eve
Sailed slow, has thought of all his heart must leave
Tomorrow, "4
But here, as elsewhere in the poems, the chief thought is human
grief; and the most important characteristic of the poems, taken
as a whole, is the intimate union between the spirit of a man
and the spirit of nature. It was always Bowles's theory, says
'The Bells, Ostend.
2 At Malvern.
3 The Approach of Summer.
4 Dover Cliffs.
NATURE IN POETRY OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 179
Clark,' that nature is the true subject of poetry; but he does not,
in his later work, strike so true and simple a note as in these
early sonnets.
Such general statements as are to be drawn from this study of
specific poets can be more conveniently made after the studies in
Gardening, Fiction, Travels, and Painting, for these four studies,
brief as they are, yet offer facts that modify or confirm the
impression gained from the poetry.
¹ Bowles's Memoir.
יז
1.
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CHAPTER III.
GARDENING.
i
Gardening
Up to the beginning of the eighteenth century the garden
that had satisfied public taste was some form of the Ancient, Geo-
metrical, Roman, Architectural, or Regular Gar-
den, as it has been variously styled. In English
literature this garden plays but a small part. In
Evelyn's Diary we find many descriptions of French and Italian
gardens which are eminently suggestive as showing the taste of
the age. His approbation is always given to proofs of ingenuity
in the way of mechanical devices. We find the same general
tone in a letter by Mallet. He had been traveling in Wales for
six weeks, and had found the journey simply "tedious" till he
came to Sir Arthur Owen's garden, which consisted of an acre
and a half, laid out like a mariner's compass with a tree in the
centre for the needle and a grove cut into thirty-two sections by
paths answering to the points in the compass. This was the only
remarkable thing Mallet saw in Wales. The classical and the
only important article on the Formal Garden before 1700 is by
Sir William Temple. According to his taste Moor Park was the
sweetest garden known. It was divided into quarters by gravel
walks, and adorned with two fountains and eight statues in each
quarter. Its terrace walk had a summerhouse at each end.
On each side of the parterre was a cloister, over each clois-
ter an airy walk, and so on. "Among us," he explains, "the
beauty of building and planting is placed chiefly in
chiefly in some
certain proportions, symmetries, or uniformities, our walks and
our trees ranged so as to answer one another and at exact
distances." This sentence is especially interesting as show-
2
¹ Mallet in Letter to Pope (1734).
2 Temple; On the Gardens of Epicurus; or of Gardening in the year 1685.
180
1
""
GARDENING
181
ing how completely the ideal garden represented the thought of
the age.
"Certain proportions, symmetries, and uniform-
ities is a phrase characteristic of Classicism in all its manifesta-
tions. Equally characteristic and interesting is Temple's reason
for approving of this style of gardening. In exact figures, with
regular and definite intervals, it is, he says, "hard to make any
great or remarkable faults." In this sentence there is surely a
suggestion of one reason for the love of order, of limits clearly
set, that marked the classical spirit. Symmetries and proportions
and uniformities were a specific against great and remarkable
faults such as had resulted from the undue license of a romantic
age. The beaten path had legitimate attractions for an age that
had lost its way among the pleasures of the pathless woods.
In the poetry between Marvell and Pope the garden hardly
appears at all. Perhaps the gardens in Dryden's plays are as
significant of the spirit of the age as any that could be found.
Take especially The Tempest, in the modernization of which all
the exquisite nature setting is lost. The beautiful part of the
island where Prospero lived is to be represented thus:
"Tis
composed of three walks of cypress trees: each side walk leads
to a cave." In his plays the scene is often laid in a garden, but
it is always stiff and formal. An interesting comparison might
be made between these garden scenes and those in Faust.
The distinctive characteristics of the formal garden were high
walls shutting out the surrounding country, flights of stairs going
up and down terraces, trees planted in long straight lines, flower
beds in geometric patterns, water in straight canals or geometric
basins, and elaborate topiary work.'
The break from this formal garden to the Natural Garden
(known also as the Modern, English, Irregular, or Landscape
I
Quarterly Review Jan. 1817. Article on H. Repton's Theory and Prac-
tice of Landscape Gardening.
land.
Reginald Blomfield and F. Inigo Thomas: The Formal Garden in Eng-
Lecky: England in the Eighteenth Century, Vol. 1, ch. 4.
Walpole: On Modern Gardening (an excellent summary). Works, Vol. 2.
Famous Parks and Gardens of the World Described and Illustrated. (T.
Nelson & Sons, London, 1880.)
I
·
.
182
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
Garden) began early in the eighteenth century. The three gar-
deners who by theory and practice established the new ideas were
Bridgeman who was first in the field, Kent who is the most
famous, and Brown who, though less known, is said to have had
the most genius. The specific credit that belongs to each is not
beyond dispute but apparently Bridgeman was the first to protest
against "artificially trained and sculptured greenery." He also
showed distaste for the "mathematical exactitude and rectilinear
designs of the preceding age." Walpole ascribes to him the
destruction of the walled enclosures-" the decisive step that
led to all that followed." Bridgeman's work was, however, rather
tentative and theoretic. It was left for Kent to make bold
experiments along the same lines. Walpole calls Kent "the
father of modern gardening." What Bridgeman had thought
of, Kent thought of and did. His fundamental idea was to
make “natural pictures." He cut down the fences and showed
that the garden should be ruralized and the surrounding country
somewhat cultivated so that all might unite in a harmonious
whole. He wished "to bring nature to the parlor windows."
His underlying principle was to study nature and to follow out
her laws.¹ It must be confessed that the iron-clad and undis-
criminating application of this theory led to results often as arti-
ficial and unnatural as the formal garden had been. For
instance, nature apparently abhors a straight line, so all paths
and avenues and streams were sent serpentining about in the
most tedious and unmeaning fashion. Francis Coventry said
that no follower of Kent would be willing to go to heaven on a
straight line. The desire to get rid of all "remnants of old
formalities" led to the destruction of many fine old straight
avenues. The desire to follow nature led even to such extrava-
gances as the planting of dead trees.² Capability" Brown
There is a discriminating eulogy of Kent in Coventry's paper in The
World, April 12, 1753.
(C
2 Sir Walter Scott: Review of Stewart's The Planter's Guide, The Quar-
terly Review, 37:303.
Francis Coventry : Strictures on the Absurd Novelties Introduced into Gar-
dening, and a Humorous Description of Squire Mushroom's Villa, The World,
No. 15, 1753.
GARDENING
183
}
was Kent's successor. He carried out the principles of Kent
with greater skill and breadth of design. Kent's chief gardens
were Richmond, Esher, Claremont, Stowe, and Rustham.
Blenheim was formed by Brown who was kitchen-gardener at
Stowe when Bridgeman and Kent made it over.¹
In this brief outline of the beginnings of the new school of
gardening the points to be emphasized are that before the eigh-
teenth century the fundamental principle on which gardens were
made was the display of art, of triumphant human mastery over
nature; that the fundamental principle on which the new gardens
were made was the close study and imitation of nature and the
concealment of art; that this change was made early in
the century, while the classical spirit was apparently at its
height; and that the new ideas in gardening are similar to the first
turnings from the classical conventions regarding nature on the
part of the poets, and are contemporary with them. Gardening
was unlike poetry in that, from the very nature of the art in gar-
dening, some enunciation of theories preceded any possible
practical illustration. All change in the art of gardening was
conscious and attended by more or less discussion, while in
poetry a similar change is largely unconscious, or at least seldom
accompanied by formal statements of theory. But both changes
grow out of and illustrate the same mental restlessness under the
limitations imposed by the formal or classical conception of
nature.
In this revolt from the formal garden the gardeners men-
tioned play hardly so important a part as do Pope and Addison.
The great influence of their work, coming as it did at a crisis
time, has been recognized by most students of the garden.
Blomfield says
"It now became the fashion to rave about
nature, and to condemn the straightforward work of the formal
school as so much brutal sacrilege. Pope and Addison led the
way with about as much love of nature as the elegant Abbé
Delille some three generations later." In Famous Parks and
Gardens Pope is spoken of as "the prophet of the new school."
¹ Thomas Whateley or Wheatley: Observations on Modern Gardening, 1770.
2 Blomfield & Thomas: The Formal Garden in England, p. 80.
4
184
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
Mason in his English Garden calls Kent "Pope's bold asso-
ciate." Walpole dwells on the assistance Kent had from Pope
and he thinks that the ideas of Kent's best works were really bor-
rowed from Pope's garden at Twickenham. Hazlitt emphasizes
"the healthy and important influence for good in this direc-
tion " exercised by Pope. In the Review of Repton's work in
The Quarterly for 1816 we find the following: 'Pope attacked
the prevailing style with his keenest shafts of ridicule.
66
He so completely developed the true principles of gar-
dening that the theories of succeeding writers have been little
more than amplifications of his short general precepts." Court-
hope says that the principles laid down in Pope's writings and
exemplified in his garden' were really the basis on which the new
school worked. And finally,³ Biese quotes Pope's famous maxim
and attributes to him and to Addison much influence in bring-
ing about the return to nature in the art of gardening.
A few brief quotations will serve to illustrate the tone adopted
by Pope and Addison.
"There is something more bold and masterly in the rough
careless strokes of nature than in the nice touches and embellish-
ments of art. The beauties of the most stately garden or palace
lie in a narrow compass, the imagination immediately runs them
over, and requires something else to gratify her; but, in the wild
fields of nature, the sight wanders up and down without confine-
ment, and is fed with an infinite variety of images.'
174
"I do not know whether I am singular in my opinion, but,
for my own part, I would rather look upon a tree in all its luxu-
riancy and diffusion of boughs and branches, than when it is thus
cut and trimmed into a mathematical figure; and can not but
fancy that an orchard in flower looks infinitely more delightful
than all the little labyrinths of the most finished parterre.”
"My compositions in gardening are altogether after the Pindaric
¹ Hazlitt: Gleanings in Old Garden Literature, p. 66 (ed. 1887).
2 Famous Parks and Gardens, p. 134 (description of Twickenham).
3 Biese: Die Entwickelung des Naturgefühls, pp. 290–293.
♦ Addison: The Spectator, No. 414 (1712).
5 Addison: Spectator, 414 (1712).
GARDENING
185
manner, and run into the beautiful wildness of nature without
affecting the nicer elegancies of art.” Of more importance is
Pope's scornful Essay on Verdant Sculpture. "There is certainly
something," he says, "in the amiable simplicity of unadorned
Nature that spreads over the mind a more noble sort of tran-
quillity, and a loftier sensation of pleasure, than can be raised
from the nicer scenes of Art.
I believe it is no wrong
observation that persons of genius, and those who are most capa-
ble of Art, are always most fond of Nature. On the contrary,
people of the common level of understanding are principally
delighted with the little niceties and fantastical operations of Art,
and constantly think that finest which is the least natural." Then
follows the famous sarcasm on the eminent town gardener, who
was prepared to furnish all sorts of imagery in evergreen, even to
cutting family pieces of men, women, and children.
These noteworthy utterances by Pope and Addison come, it
will be observed, in the years 1712, 1713, and Twickenham was
completed before 1718.3 Kent did not return from his first visit
to Italy till 1719, and his work on gardens comes later, his most
important works falling probably between 1730 and 1748, the
date of his death.
Bridgeman, though ahead of Kent in theoretical expres-
sion, was really his contemporary, for we find them men-
tioned as working together on some gardens, as Stowe, at the
time when Brown was kitchen gardener there, and so probably
after 1735. Brown's (1715-1783) work begins during the last
years of Kent's life. Hence Pope and Addison antedated the
work of the practical gardeners by some years. The final and
authoritative statement of Pope's principles did not come, how-
ever, till 1731, when the famous Fourth Epistle was published.
Besides his scornful description of the formal garden he gave
certain precepts, the underlying thought of which is that gardens
should so be made as to conceal all traces of man's interference.
This Essay marked a crisis in the theory of gardening, as Thom-
¹ Addison: Spectator, 477 (1712).
2
Pope: The Guardian, 173 (1713).
3 Letter to Jervas, Dec. 12, 1718. Pope: Works, 4:494.
1
I
186
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
་
son's Seasons had marked the culmination of the interest in
nature shown here and there in the poetry of the preceding
years.
Two years before the publication of this Essay there had come
from Allan Ramsay a eulogy of wild gardens.
Compar'd with prime cut plots and nice,
Where Nature has to Art resign'd
Till all looks mean, stiff, and confin'd."
Among the early imitations of Pope's Essay is Mr. Bram-
ston's Man of Taste, 1733, and Cawthorn's Essay on Taste, 1739.
They are of value only as indicating the spread of the new ideas.
Cawthorn's precepts, such as—
"Examine nature with the eye of taste;
Mark where she spreads the lawn, or pours the rill,
Falls in the vale, or breaks upon the hill;
Plan as she plans,"
will illustrate the many weak expansions of Pope's rules.
66
The second step in landscape gardening seems to have been
the Ferme orné. Here there was not merely a breaking of the
line of demarkation between garden and park, but there was an
endeavor to ornament the whole estate. One of the earliest
attempts of this sort was by Mr. Southcote, on whom Mason's
muse bestowed "no vulgar praise." But the most successful, as
well as the most famous Ferme orné, was that of the poet Shen-
stone at Leasowes. Mason spoke of Shenstone as one who
knew how to harmonize his shade still softer than his song," and
it is quite possible that his practical example at Leasowes helped
on the return to nature as effectively as his poetry. As the first
really successful experiment in landscape gardening Shenstone's
place called forth much comment, and usually of an admiring
sort. Dr. Johnson publishes nine of the poetical tributes to the
place. Dodsley's description of Leasowes, usually bound with
Shenstone's works, is the one that later stirred Sir Walter Scott's
ambition to own a place. The point to be noted here is that all
¹ Ramsay's Answer to the Foregoing (Epistle from Somerville).
2 “I can trace, even to childhood, a pleasure derived from Dodsley's descrip-
tion of Shenstone's Leasowes; and I envied the poet much more for the pleas-
GARDENING
187
tributes unite in eulogizing the skill with which the art of the
gardener was hidden,
"
While Nature shines so gracefully revealed
That she triumphant claims the total plan,
And, with fresh pride, adopts the work of man.”
In Shenstone's The Progress of Taste we have a full account
of his absorption in the work of beautifying his estate according
to the new principle. All was done for the sake of beauty.
Nothing made the poet more indignant than to be asked the use
of any of his improvements. In spite of the unnatural striving
after natural effects, and the accumulation of historic and sym-
bolic incongruities, we cannot fail to see that this estate illustrates
a rapid advance in the appreciative regard for the beauty and
freedom of nature. Shenstone's garden was in its prime between
1748 and 1756. His Unconnected Thoughts on a Garden, pub-
lished in 1764, was a valuable contribution to the literature on
the subject. Two remarkable essays appeared in 1770 and in
1771. The first was Observations on Modern Gardening, by
Whateley. It summed up in masterly fashion the principles and
ure of accomplishing the objects detailed in his friend's sketch of his grounds,
than for the possession of pipe, crook, flock, and Phyllis to boot." Quoted by
Hugh Miller. For full prose description of Leasowes and the neighboring
place, Hagley, see Hugh Miller's Impressions of England and English People,
pp. 147 -169, 95-132. See also A Poet's Garden, by Goldsmith, for a descrip-
tion of Leasowes gone to decay. For an interesting supposed conversation
between Shenstone and a utilitarian cockney visitor see Blackwood's, 14:262
(1823). For another early description see Letters on the Beauties of Hagley,
Envil, and the Leasowes, by Joseph Heeley, 1777. See also poetical descrip-
tions in Woodhouse's Poems and in Giles' Miscellanies. See also Mr. Wheat-
ley in On Gardening (1770). He said that Leasowes was a perfect picture of
the poet's mind. The influence and fame of this garden are indicated by the
fact that the Marquis de Girardin at Ermenonville called his own place "The
Leasowes of France." Anderson, in his Preface to Shenstone's Works, says
that the planning of pleasure grounds in the manner of Leasowes "seems to
require as great powers of mind as those which we admire in the descriptive
poems of Thomson, or in the noble landscapes of Salvator Rosa, or the Pous-
sins."
¹ See J. C. Loudon's Preface to H. Repton's Landscape Gardening. Down-
ing in Landscape Gardening, p. 20, says that the term Landscape Gardening
was first used in Shenstone's essay.
#
188
TREATMENT OF NATURĘ IN ENGLISH POETRY
+
achievements of the new school.
The other was by Horace Wal-
it, at intervals, for nine years
pole. He had been at work on
when Whateley's essay appeared. It is entitled On Modern Gar-
dening and is one of his most brilliant productions. Its denun-
ciation of the formal garden is an admirable statement of the
principles on which that garden was formed. He gives unquali-
fied praise to Bridgeman, Kent, and Brown. In 1772 appeared
the first portion of Mason's English Garden,' a long didactic
poem in four books. It is heterogeneous in character, but, in
one way or another, contrives to sum up about all that had yet
been said or thought on the garden.
14
Shenstone's garden was somewhat too ornate to be a true
example of the school of Kent. That school of Brown and his
followers was really dominant till late in the century. But along
with this was growing up another school of which Leasowes was a
sort of faint prophecy. This is known as the Picturesque School.
It had its origin in a natural revolt from the bareness and uni-
formity characteristic of much of the work of the Kent School.
The dictum of the new school was that whatever looks.well in a
picture will look well in a landscape. Kent's smooth lawns, and
uniform curves and level surfaces, and clumps, and belts, did not
compose well and so they were ruled out. The forerunner of the
new school was William Gilpin. The record of his travels," his
attractive studies of wild scenery, his steady adoption of the
painter's point of view, and his criticism of various places as
unpicturesque, doubtless did much to stimulate the dislike of the
tameness of Kent and Brown. That Gilpin had no intention
of throwing discredit on the existing school is evident from his high
praise of Brown's work at Blenheim. The same cannot be said
of Knight and Price, the real champions of the picturesque. They.
belong in 1794, and the Picturesque School goes down before the
Gardenesque School in the hot controversy between Knight and
Price on the one side and Humphrey Repton on the other. There
I This poem appears to have been published in parts in 1772, 1777, 1779,
1782, but a note to Book 3 says that it was begun a few months after Gray's
death in 1771.
2 See the section on Travels.
GARDENING
189
I
was nothing too severe for Knight and Price to say of Kent and
Brown. Knight says that he became so weary of the extensive
scene so dull and bare, of the flat, insipid, waving plains, of the
uniform, eternal green, in gardening as then conducted, that he
would have gladly welcomed back the old straight lines and
clipped yews and formal terraces. He hates "shaven and shorn"
scenery. He prefers it in its rough, undressed state. Mr.
Price says in prose with almost equal heat what his friend
has put into verse. The chief point of their controversy with
Mr. Repton is on the closeness of the union of the arts of
painting and gardening. Mr. Gilpin, Mr. Mason, Mr. Knight, and
Mr. Price had all said, Study pictures of great artists if you wish
to know how to manage your trees, your lights and shades, your
colors, in a landscape. Repton said landscape gardening was an
art by itself, and that the landscape might choose and refuse and
combine details in a way not suited to a picture. Repton's system
would carry us into the nineteenth century. It is sufficient to say
that he combined and modified the principles that had been
growing up through the century in such a way as to establish the
beautiful parks and gardens in which England led the world.2
The picturesque garden had two offshoots that cannot be
passed over. The idea of imitating a picture, when carried to an
excess, led to frantic efforts to put cliffs, precipices, gnarled oaks,
ruined, moss-grown fortresses, mouldering, ivy-hung abbeys, into
every landscape. Frequent sage advice is given as to the best way
to secure these effects. Richard Jago, a friend of Shenstone,
urges the importance of appropriate sites-a cliff for a ruined
castle, a well water'd vale for "the mouldering abbey's fretted
windows."3
Five years later Mr. Gilpin criticised Shuckburgh
¹ Richard Payne Knight: The Landscape.
Sir Uvedale Price: An Essay on the Picturesque.
2 The influence and significance of the English Garden is well indicated in
these words of Taine (Voyage en Italie):
“Aussi les jardins anglais, tels qu'on les importe chez nous à présent, indi-
quent l'avénement d'une autre race, la domination d'un autre goût, la règne d'une
autre littérature, l'ascendant d'un autre esprit, plus compréhensif, plus solitaire,
plus aisément fatigué, plus tourné vers les choses du dedans."
Vol. I: 232.
3 Edge Hill or the Rural Prospect Delineated and Moralized (1767). In this
4
•
190
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
i
because the ruins were not happily "fabricated," but he adds in
exculpation, “It is not every man, who can build a house, that
can execute a ruin." Then follows a long list of the mechanical
difficulties, with the following conclusion, "When it is well done,
we allow, that nothing can be more beautiful: but we see every-
where so many absurd attempts of this kind, that when we walk
through a piece of improved ground; and hear of being carried
next to see the ruins, if the master of the scene be with us, we
dread the incounter." Mr. Mason deprecates building ruins but
thinks a man to be congratulated, if on his grounds
one superior rock.
Bear on its brow the shivered fragment huge
Of some old Norman fortress; happier far,
Oh, then most happy, if thy vale below
Wash, with the crystal coolness of its rills,
Some mouldering abbey's ivy-vested wall."
This search after ruins and their appropriate scenic accom-
paniments was a morbid and exaggerated development of the new
love of the picturesque and wild in nature just as the sentimental
melancholy phase of poetry was a morbid and exaggerated devel-
opment of the new poetic turning to the wild and solitary. In
the exaggerated form both phases were ephemeral, and it is inter-
esting to observe that they were manifested at about the same
time. Mr. Phelps gives 1740 to 1760 as the dates between which
the sentimental melancholy spirit flourished in poetry. In 1767
we find rules for building the ruins so much desired. The custom
must have antedated these rules, given as they are as if for some-
thing well established, by some years at least. And from the very
nature of the case, the same mental impulse would show both its
rise and decline more promptly in poetry than in buildings.²
poem Jago describes the country seats of fifty gentlemen. The most important
are Farnborough, Packington, Shuckburgh, and Leasowes.
'The English Garden.
2 Biese in commenting on the profusion of fantastic buildings, of temples
dedicated to friendship and love and poetry and melancholy, finds them merely
the appropriate and inevitable background of "die sentimentalen, in Thränen
zerfliessenden Freundschaftsbündnisse" of the times. Die Entwickelung des
Naturgefühls, p. 292.
•
GARDENING
191
་
The subject of oriental gardens was also much discussed in
prose and verse. Sir William Chambers was the first important
champion of the methods of Chinese gardens. He liked the
"fancies and surprises" of Chinese effects and thought that Kent's
plans made English gardens "no better than so many fields." His
essay appeared in 1757.¹ Goldsmith's Description of a Chinese
Garden came out in 1760. In 1772 came Sir William Chambers'
Dissertation on Oriental Gardens. This brought out two replies
from Mason in 1773 and 1774. The best practical illustration
of this style of gardening was to be seen at Kew Gardens which
Chambers remodeled. On the whole; however, oriental garden-
ing was a fad that soon passed away without having exerted much
influence. It is significant of the turning towards far countries,
the romantic interest in the new and the remote, and is to be
classed as a sign with the oriental and eastern Eclogues in the
poetry of the period.
Incomplete and cursory as so short a study of so great a sub-
ject must be, the facts here presented seem to warrant the follow-
ing statements:
The feeling toward nature in the period studied shows in
gardening the same order of development, nearly the same dates,
and the same phases as in poetry. There was first in both a
pleased recognition of the supremacy of man, a rigid exclusive-
ness, a love of order, and symmetry, and of definite limits. Then
came, in the early eighteenth century, a tentative turning from art to
nature; then an epoch-making statement in each art, Thomson's
Seasons from 1726 to 1730, and Pope's Epistle in 1731. From
this point on the development was in mass and variety rather than
in the enunciation of new principles. The growing love for wild
nature in the poetry, and the passion for the picturesque in gar-
¹ The rage for Chinese buildings began earlier than this for in The World
March 27, 1755, is a plea by Marriott for an "anti-Chinese society." See also
a similar letter in Feb. 1754. For a similar taste in furniture see a letter in
March, 1753. In April, 1753, Coventry satirizes the Chinese bridges and build-
ings in gardens. Even so far back as Sir William Temple much had been said
about Chinese gardens. For criticism of their artificiality see Walpole's On
Modern Gardening. For a defense of the Chinese theory as an attempt to fol-
low nature see Humboldt's Kosmos.
1
¿
1.
192 TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
*
་
dening proceed side by side. At the end of the century all is
ready in both arts for the splendid work of the new era. Through-
out the century both have had curiously correspondent offshoots
or temporary fads-sentimental melancholy in poetry, and the
ruins, artificial and real, in gardening; foreign eclogues and
studies of distant countries in the one art, and Chinese gardens
in the other.
+
▼
CHAPTER IV.
TRAVELS.
Pink-
It is impossible to do more here than merely to sketch the
possibilities in a "History of the Tour and the Guide Book,"
because the mass of material to be gone over is so great.
erton's Catalogue of Voyages and Travels, published in 1814,
gives over 4500 books. It is so elaborately tabulated that it is
not easy to use, but it is possible to cull from its voluminous
pages a fairly compendious list of such travels as were published
in England in the eighteenth century. In this list there are about
360 books. Of these 360 books all but 84 are travels outside of
Great Britain and Ireland. Their distribution through the century
indicates a steady growth of interest in foreign lands, for nearly
half of the accounts of travels in other countries belong in the
last quarter of the century. The same pushing out of the
romantic spirit in its curiosity to know the remote is shown by
another interesting transfer of emphasis, half of the Travels
before 1750 being devoted to Great Britain and Ireland, while
after 1775, less than one-fifth of the whole number is given up to
home explorations. But these foreign tours, however interest-
ing as one note of Romanticism, are outside the present field of
inquiry. They were undertaken usually with some definite pur-
pose. Antiquities, curiosities, minerals; laws, manners, customs;
utilitarian possibilities these were the leading subjects of
inquiry. In the titles such phrases as, "relating chiefly to the
history, antiquities, and geography;" "remarks on Characters and
Manners;" "chiefly relative to the knowledge of mankind,
industry, literature, and natural history;" "with an account
of the most memorable sieges;" "containing a great variety
of geographical, topographical and political observations;
"containing specially a description of fortified towns;" "con-
193
""
D
A
2
/
.
་
·
194
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
taining a Picture of the Country, the Manners, and the
Actual Government," are of constant recurrence and serve
to mark out the general scope of these works.
There are,
to be sure, in these books, many scattered descriptions of the
natural scenes visited. This is especially true of the Travels
in the last quarter of the century. But to study these descrip-
tions, even superficially, would be too wide a work for the
present limits. Furthermore, the accounts of the tours made in
the United Kingdom will doubtless reveal the characteristics of
the observations made in foreign lands.
One of the early books of English travel in the eighteenth
century is Mr. Martin's Description of the Western Islands of Scot-
land (1704). It is this book that stirred Dr. Johnson to make his
visit to the Hebrides, and it is from this that Mallet drew the
details for his Amyntor and Theodora. In the Preface Martin
says:
a native of
"Perhaps it is peculiar to those isles, that they have never
been described till now by any man that was
the country, or had traveled them..
"Descriptions of countries, without the natural histories of
them, are now justly reckoned to be defective. This I had a
particular regard to in the following descriptions, and have every-
where taken notice of the nature of the climate and soil, and of
the remarkable cures performed by the natives merely by the use
of simples."
This preliminary promise of first-hand observation, especially
so far as nature is concerned, is hardly carried out. The book is
a credulous, entertaining, unsifted narrative of whatever marvels
came to his ears. His interest rested chiefly on strange cures
made by the use of "simples." The Description has the negative
importance of entirely ignoring nature. In its 120 pages there
as not a word or phrase in recognition of the wild and beautiful
scenery in these islands.
The same distinction holds of Brand's Brief Description of
Orkney, Zetland, Pightland-Firth, and Caithness (1701). Brand
was one of a commission sent by the General Assembly to
inquire into religious matters in the northern islands, so it is not
!
TRAVELS
195
strange that he bestows much attention on heathenish and popish
rites, charms, and superstitions. He is also much interested
in the prevailing diseases and the means of cure employed by
the natives. And he says much of their customs, manners, and
personal appearance. He describes the crops, the climate, the
favorite articles of food, but his eyes are holden to the charms of
scenery.
In 1715 appeared Alexander Pennecuik's Description of
Tweeddale. He was a physician and for thirty years his employ-
ment had obliged him to know and observe every corner of
Tweeddale. He found great pleasure in "herbalizing shady
groves and mountains," and the chief value of his work is
accordingly in its numerous botanical observations. Not a stray
sentence indicates pleasure in the beauty of the Lowland moun-
tains.
Except for the work of Brand, Martin, and Pennecuik, the
first half of the century shows but a meager list of travels.
Besides eight Tours published anonymously, Pinkerton records
only Gordon's Itinerarium Septentrionale (in Scotland and North-
ern England) in 1726, and Macky's Journey through England in
1732. In 1762 appeared Hamilton's Letters from Antrim, the
chief subject of which was announced to be "the Natural His-
tory of the Basaltes." Mr. Hamilton spoke occasionally of the
beautiful and picturesque appearance of the Irish coast, but he
professed himself an advocate of Mr. Locke's system of a dic-
tionary of pictures in preference to a dictionary of tedious
descriptions. From 1764 to 1769 Mr. Bushe added his contri-
bution to Irish Travels, the objects dwelt upon in his Hiberna
Curiosa being "Manners, observations on the state of Trade and
Agriculture, and Natural Curiosities."
Much of the work in Travels or Tours in the eighteenth cen-
tury is thrown into the form of familiar letters. By far the most
important of these tourists' letters from the present point of view
is Dr. Brown's description of Keswick in a letter to Lyttleton.
This letter was published in 1772, but its date is difficult to
determine. It was before 1766, for that is the year of the
author's death. Even this date puts it with John Buncle and Dr.
1
t
-
196 TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
1
Dalton's Descriptive Poem as being one of the three earliest
descriptions of the Lake Region.' Since it is so little known
some unusually long extracts from it may be of value.
·
"But at Keswick, you will on one side of the lake, see a rich
and beautiful landskip of cultivated fields.
On the
opposite shore you will find rocks and cliffs of stupendous height,
hanging broken over the lake in horrible grandeur, some of
them a thousand feet high; the woods climb up their steep and
shaggy sides, where mortal foot never yet approached; on these
dreadful heights the eagles build their nests; a variety of water-
falls are seen pouring from their summits and tumbling from
rock to rock, in rude and terrible magnificence, while on all sides
of this immense amphitheatre the lofty mountains rise around,
piercing the clouds in shapes as spiry and fantastic as the very
rocks of Dovedale. To this I must add the frequent and bold
projection of the cliffs into the lake, forming noble bays and
promontories; in other parts they finely retire from it and often
open in abrupt chasms or clefts, through which at hand you see
rich and uncultivated vales, and, beyond these, at various dis-
tance, mountain rising over mountain, among which, new pros-
pects present themselves in mist, till the eye is lost in an agree-
able perplexity,
Where active fancy travels beyond sense
And pictures things unseen—.
Were I to analyze the two places in their constituent principles,
I should tell you that the full perfection of Keswick consists of
three circumstances, beauty, horror, and immensity united;
•
to give you a complete idea of these three perfections, as they
are joined in Keswick, would require the united powers of
'I have been unable to find the exact date of this letter, but in all probabil-
ity it antedates The Life of John Buncle and the Descriptive Poem by some years.
It was probably before 1760, because at that time occurred the quarrel between
Lyttleton and Brown. It seems also probable that it was before 1756, because
at that time Dr. Brown took the living at Great Horkesley, near Colchester.
The most natural period for the Letter is between 1748 and 1754, for at some
time during that period, and apparently during the early part of it, Dr. Brown
held the living of Morland, Westmoreland. (See Brown, Osbaldiston, Lyttle-
ton in Nat. Dict. of Biog. and Memoir of Brown in British Poets.)
TRAVELS
197
Claude, Salvator, and Poussin. The first should throw his deli-
cate sunshine over the cultivated fields, the scattered cots, the
groves, the lake and wooded islands. The second should dash
out the horror of rugged cliffs, the steeps, the hanging woods.
and foaming waterfalls; while the grand pencil of Poussin
should crown the whole with the majesty of the impending
mountains.
"So much for what I would call the permanent beauties of this
astonishing scene. Were I not afraid of being tiresome I could
now dwell as long on its varying or accidental beauties.
Sometimes a serene air and clear sky disclose the tops of the
highest hills; at others, you see the clouds involving their sum-
mits, resting on their sides or descending to their base, and roll-
ing among the valleys, as in a vast furnace; when the winds are
high, they roar among the cliffs and caverns like peals of thun-
der; then too the clouds are seen in vast bodies sweeping along
the hills in gloomy greatness, while the lake joins the tumult and
tosses like a sea; but in calm weather the whole scene becomes
new; the lake is a perfect mirror and the landscape in all its
beauty, islands, fields, woods, rocks and mountains, are seen
inverted and floating on its surface. I will now carry you to the
top of a cliff, where, if you dare approach the ridge, a new
scene of astonishment presents itself; where the valley, lake and
islands are seen lying at your feet; where this expanse of water
appears diminished to a little pool amidst the vast and immeas-
urable objects that surround it; for here the summits of more
distant hills appear beyond those you have already seen; and
rising behind each other in successive ranges and azure groups
of craggy and broken steeps, form an immense and awful pic-
ture, which can only be expressed by the image of a tempestuous
sea of mountains. Let me now conduct you down again to the
valley and conclude with one circumstance more, which is, that a
walk by still moonlight (at which time the distant waterfalls are
heard in all their variety of sound) among these enchanting dales,
opens such scenes of delicate beauty, repose and solemnity as
exceed all description."
Mr. Gilpin was evidently familiar with Dr. Brown's Letter, for
198
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
in his Cumberland Tour (pub. 1786) he justified his own prefer-
ence for Keswick by saying that this region had also been singled
out by Dr. Brown, "who was a man of taste and had seen every
part of this country." Certainly this Letter from Keswick in the
delight with which it dwells on the wild and terrible elements of
nature, in its detailed observation, in its artistic appreciation of
the accidental effects of atmospheric conditions, and in its sensi-
tiveness to the spirit of the place, comes very close to the mod-
ern enthusiasm for mountains. The details are sometimes
exaggerated and the author's rapture may seem over-stated, but
the genuineness of his feeling, and the reality of his knowledge
of mountains and lake, must remain unquestioned. The Letter
is one of the first, and the most considerable of the early contri-
butions to the literature of the Lakes.
The great period of English travels began in 1767 with
Arthur Young's Six Weeks' Tour in the Southern Counties of
England and Wales. In 1768 (June to November) he wrote his
Six Months' Tour in the North of England. His next important
work, A Farmer's Tour through the East of England, was pub-
lished in 1771. His Tour in Ireland appeared in 1779. The
professed design of these sketches was husbandry. Agriculture,
industry, population, farming experiments, prices, laws,-these
were the topics on which he wished to inform himself and others.
He had apparently no thought of describing the country through
which he passed. There is in this respect a significant difference
between the books of 1767-8 and that of 1779. In the first
two he kept the text rigorously free from all weakening admix-
ture of landscape, the descriptions, whether of picture galleries
or scenery, appearing modestly as footnotes. In the last
the descriptions are boldly incorporated into the text, and
form, what is more, a surprisingly large proportion of it. In
1767-8 he described such places as he happened to pass near. In
1779 he followed up one river and down another professedly in
search of "wild and romantic landscapes." In general charac-
ter the descriptions do not greatly vary in the three books. The
most numerous descriptions are of gentlemen's estates, perhaps
in courteous repayment of hospitalities received. These accounts
TRAVELS
199
are always detailed and often tedious. Young apparently went
about with the polite owner, sat in his seats, looked down his
vistas, observed his temples, and took notes thereon. Our chief
interest in these passages is the testimony they bear to Young's
own preference for estates where art had done the least and
nature most. "The owner has had the good judgment merely to
assist nature," or "merely to render natural beauties accessible "
are characteristic words of praise. The best descriptions are not,
however, of estates, but of grand natural scenes. It is views
from Persfeld on the Why (Wye); the wild country along the
Tees; the English Lakes; the waterfalls and wild glens near
Powerscourt; the mountains and lakes of Killarney, that really
stir him. Such spots he describes with an enthusiasm that never
flags. He is tediously minute. He cannot let a detail escape.
And through all there is an eager, overflowing delight, a raptu-
rous pleasure in wild scenery such as we find in no traveler before
Young except Brown. He broods over a fine landscape. He is
unwilling to lose one of its possible charms. At Derwentwater
he rows all around the lake, around each island, stops to hunt up
unseen waterfalls, climbs all crags that promise fine views.
He
is indefatigable. No peril stops him. He wonders why the
people of Keswick do not at once cut paths to the fine views so
that no one need miss them. As he climbs Skiddaw he laughs
with scorn as he mentally compares "the effects of a Louis' mag-
nificence to the play of nature in the vale of Keswick." His
exclamation, "How trifling the labors of art to the mere sport of
nature !" certainly marks a rebound from conventional standards.
The view of Winandermere from the heights on the eastern
shore is, he thinks, "the most superlative view that nature can
exhibit" or, if not, she is "more fertile in beauties
" than his
imagination can conceive. "To ride the eighteen miles from
Bernard Castle to the falls of the Tees one could well afford," he
says, a journey of a thousand miles." He rides out to Haws
Water. He makes a close study of Hulls Water. The whole
region holds him with a fascination nowhere repeated till he finds
I
¹ Young explains that he cannot find any one to spell the names for him
so he must spell them as they are pronounced.
3
髀
​200
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
himself, ten years later, among similar wild scenes in Ireland.
Here, almost forgetting that he is a scientific farmer in search of
information, he wanders along the picturesque banks of the Lif-
fey, the Boyne, the Nore, the Boyle, visits Lake Ennel, Loch
Earne, the lakes of Killarney, and writes descriptions in the man-
ner of the most voluminous and ardent of modern sight-seers.
Young's significance in this study rests not so much on any artis-
tic excellence of expression as on his wide observation, his per-
sonal enthusiasm for nature, and his early date.
The next traveler of importance was Thomas Gray. The
openness of Gray's mind to pleasure from the external world is
hardly at all indicated in his poetry. In his prose we find it
especially in the Journal in the Lakes in 1769. Thirty years
before this, his Journal in France had given some hint of his
taste for wild scenery, but at that time, though he expressed
great pleasure in the "magnificent rudeness" of the Alps, he had
not entirely broken away from the current conceptions and the
current phraseology, as is shown by the sentence: "You here
meet with all the beauties so savage and horrid a place can pre-
sent you with."
Gray's published letters extend from 1739 to 1770. Scat-
tered through these are occasional passages indicative of a genu-
ine love of nature. In the midst of a humorous letter to Wal-
pole (Sept. 1737) he speaks of "venerable beeches
After
always dreaming out their old stories to the winds."
he came back from Scotland, in 1765, he wrote to Mr. Mason:
"I am returned from Scotland charmed with my expedition;
it is of the Highlands I speak; the Lowlands are worth seeing
once, but the mountains are ecstatic, and ought to be visited in
pilgrimage once a year. None but these monstrous creatures of
God know how to join so much beauty with so much horror. A
fig for your poets, painters, gardeners, and clergymen, that have
not been up among them; their imagination can be made up of
nothing but bowling-greens, flowering shrubs, horse-ponds, Fleet
ditches, shell-grottoes, and Chinese rails."
So early as 1739 he expressed his dislike of formal gardens in
his sarcastic description of the grounds at Versailles. The same
TRAVELS
201
5
feeling of irritation at the preponderance of art over nature
recurs in his description of Warwick in 1754. That even the
most natural garden did not satisfy Gray as did wild nature we
see from Mason's lines written just after the death of Gray. He
evidently had not approved of The Garden as a subject for a
poem and Mason represents him as saying:
his accents glow
'Sovereign Queen!
Why waste thy numbers on a trivial art,
That ill can mimic e'en the humblest charms
Of all-majestic Nature?' At the words
His eye would glisten, and
With all the poet's frenzy.
Behold, and tremble, while thou view'st her state
Throned on the heights of Skiddaw; call thy art
To build her such a throne; that art will feel
How vain her best pretensions. Trace her march
Amid the purple crags of Borrowdale,' etc.
In general, however, the testimony of the letters is to a scientific
rather than a poetic love of nature. There are many exact rec-
ords of the weather, of the coming crops, of the blossoming of
flowers. A single example may serve as typical. It is a record
of observations made at Stoke Pogis in July 1754.
'Barley was in ear on the first day; gray and white peas in
bloom. The bean flowers were going off. Duke-cherries in
plenty on the 5th; hearts were also ripe. Green melons on the
6th, but watry and not sweet. Currants began to ripen on the
8th, and red gooseberries had changed color."
And so on with nearly a hundred more of these tabulated
natural facts.
+
Of Gray as a traveler Sir James Mackintosh is quoted by
Mitford as saying:
66
Gray was the first discoverer of the natural beauties in Eng-
land, and has marked out the course of every picturesque journey
that can be made in it."
The dogmatic absoluteness of such a statement is its own
ruin. We have already seen that Gray had at least three prede-
cessors, Dalton, Amory, and Brown, in his recognition of the
beauty of the Lake Region, and many a new tour was sought out
202
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
:
by later lovers of the picturesque. But Gray's Journal in the
Lakes, though not first, is certainly most important. Both in
feeling and in spontaneity and adequacy of expression it shows a
marked advance on his preceding work, and as literature it is dis-
tinctly in advance of what others had done.
Gray was by no means so
He was "not fond of dirt,"
The whole of this famous tour occupied but three weeks, and
the trip in the Lakes but ten days.
unwearied in sight-seeing as Young.
and he was fastidious about roads and inns. He did not go on an
eager search for views. He did not climb Skiddaw, and he passed
by Orrest-Head. He saw what he could see comfortably. His
descriptions are quiet and controlled. They have none of the
"dizzy raptures" of Brown and Young. There is no straining
after epithets, no struggle to find expression adequate to the
emotion. The following brief quotations may serve to indicate
his style:
"The shining purity of the lake, just ruffled by the breeze,
enough to show it is alive."
"The lake majestic in its calmness.”
"Little shining torrents hurry down the rocks."
"The grass was covered with a hoar frost, which soon melted,
and exhaled in a thin blueish smoke."
"In the evening walked alone down to the lake after sunset
and saw the solemn colouring of night draw on, the last gleam
of sunshine fading away on the hill-tops, the deep serene of the
waters and the long shadows of the mountains thrown across
them."
"At distance heard the murmur of many waterfalls not audi-
ble in the day-time. Wished for the moon, but she was dark to me
and silent, hid in her vacant interlunar cave."
The charm of Gray's descriptions lies in a certain bare perfec-
tion of phrase, in his direct, unadorned statement of beautiful
facts. His words have a vital, penetrating quality, while his sense
of form, his artistic reticence, keep his enthusiasm free from
exclamatory extravagances.
Thomas Pennant's first tour in Scotland was made in 1769.
The notes taken on this tour were put into shape and published
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in 1771.
Dissatisfied with the result, he went again in 1772, and
this Second Tour in Scotland and the Hebrides appeared in 1776.
In the first tour his professed object was the study of Zoology.
In the second he was assisted by two friends, one trained in
Botany, and the other well up in Scotch customs and legends.
But Pennant's interest was not confined to Zoölogy and Botany,
to Manners and Customs. His curiosity was omniverous and
insatiable. Everything was fish that came to his net, and his
industry in note taking was prodigious. The two journeys occu-
pied six months and it takes 570 folio pages to set down what he
saw and heard.
In this mass of observations not more than ten pages, all told,
have anything to do with the scenery through which he passed.
Such descriptive passages as do occur are usually of torrents, rapid,
rocky rivers, or the shores of lakes. The best of these are of the
banks of the Nith, the falls of Cory-Lin in the Clyde, the Cas-
cades at Moness, which he calls "an epitome of everything
that can be admired in the curiosity of waterfalls," the falls and
streams near Loch Maree, Ayrsgarth Force in the Ure, the little
lake of Barrisdale on the Inverness coast, Coniston, and Der-
wentwater. He prides himself on being one of the first to
describe Coniston. "The scenery about this lake, which is
scarcely mentioned, is extremely noble. The east and west sides
are bounded by high hills often wooded; but in general com-
posed of grey rock, and coarse vegetation; much juniper creeps
along the surface; and some beautiful hollies are finely inter-
mixed. At the northwestern extremity the vast mountains called
Coniston fells form a magnificent mass. In the midst is a great
bosom retiring inward, which affords great quantities of fine
slate."
He very often notes wide views, and he has an unfailing
interest of a scientific, botanical sort in the forests through which
they pass.
scene.
He never, however, notes any but the permanent details of a
There is not a hint that he saw the varying, evanescent
atmospheric effects, so important an element in the beauty and
sublimity of mountain scenery. He does admit that the “High-
ต
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TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
!
lands like other beauties, have their good and bad days," but
there is nothing in his books to show that he knew them apart.
On the whole he shows a preference for a region of smooth,
rich, arable land. On leaving the Highlands his comment is,
"The country continually improves; the mountains sink
gradually into small hills; the land is highly cultivated, well
planted, and well inhabited. I was struck with rapture at a
sight so long new to me. Nothing can equal the contrast between
the black, barren, dreary, glens of the morning ride and the soft
scenes of the evening."
He dislikes the Borrowdale end of Derwentwater where “all
the possible variety of Alpine scenery is exhibited, with all the
horror of precipice, broken crag, or overhanging rock, or insu-
lated pyramidal hills." He prefers the outlook towards Skiddaw.
"But the opposite or northern view is in all respects a strong and
beautiful contrast; Skiddaw shows its vast base, and bounding
all that part of this vale, rises gently to a height that sinks the
neighboring hills; opens a pleasing front, smooth and verdant,
smiling over the country like a gentle, generous lord, while
the fells of Barrowdale frown upon it like a hardened tyrant.
Skiddaw is covered with grass to within half a mile of the summit;
after which it becomes stony."
So far as nature is concerned, the passages cited show Pennant
at his best. His descriptions are full, clear, painstaking, unimag-
inative. He is as impersonal and impartial, as conscientiously
exact, in taking notes on a landscape as in recording the annual
haul of fish in Scotch lakes. Beautiful scenes were to him an
They made no artistic or emo-
object of intellectual curiosity.
tional appeal. "The visions of the hills and the souls of lonely
places were a strain upon him. He was glad to come forth
into fertile valleys and pleasant corn lands.
""
All this is true, and Pennant shows much less of the new
spirit than Brown, Amory, Young, and Gray. But his work was
done independently of theirs, and in 1769. He must have been in
the Lake District a month before Gray, and he penetrated into
much wilder regions of Scotland than had before been described.
That his instinctive shrinking from wild scenes should have been
TRAVELS
205
r
་་
*
so far overcome as it was, that he should have been often forced
into admiration, is of itself proof of the strength of the new
impulse.
The Rev. William Gilpin made many tours and gave full
accounts of them, but the accounts were not published till years
after the tours were made. His chief travels in their order are,
I. Tour in Norfolk, Cambridge, Suffolk, and Essex (1769;
account published 1809).
2. Tour along the River Wye (1770; pub. 1782).
3. Tour
1786).
4.
5.
6.
7.
in Cumberland and Westmoreland (1772; pub.
Tour in North Wales (1773; pub. 1809).
Tour in Hampshire, Sussex and Kent (1774; pub. 1804).
Tour in the Highlands of Scotland (1776; pub. 1789.)
Tour in Western England (before 1778; pub. 1798).
Mr. Gilpin's point of view is clearly stated in the preface to
the first of these publications.
"The following little work proposes a new object of pursuit;
that of examining the face of a country by the rules of picturesque
beauty." He hopes that no one will consider his plan unduly
light and trivial for a clergyman. He is himself convinced that
to study the beauty of a country is as noble, in a way as useful,
as to study its agriculture.
By picturesque beauty Gilpin always means beauty that can be
put into a picture. He draws pictures of mountains to show
whether they have or have not a good sky-line. Some are too regu-
lar, some are grotesque, some look deformed. He seldom dwells
long on wide views because they are so difficult to make inter-
esting in a picture. The grandeur of Penmanmaur and Snowden
hardly makes up to him for their lack of picturesqueness. Pen-
manmaur "has no variety of line, but is one heavy lumpish
form." He starts up Snowden, but finding that it is merely "a
collection of mountains formed on the old gigantic plan of heap-
ing mountain on mountain," he does not go to the top,
but contents himself with quoting Pennant's description of the
view.
Gilpin's language is often borrowed from the art of painting.
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TREATMENT OF NATURE in English POETRY
1
."
I
He calls the steep banks of rivers "side screens;" the changing
view before him as he floats down the river is a "front screen." He
is always talking about foregrounds and backgrounds and per-
spective and composition. He says that Nature is "great in
design and she is an admirable colourist, and harmonizes tints
with infinite variety and beauty; but she is seldom so correct in
composition as to produce a harmonious whole. Either the fore-
ground or the background is disproportioned, or some awkward
line runs through the piece; or a tree is ill placed, or a bank is
formal; or something or other is not as it should be.”
With his sense of form Gilpin has also an unusual sensitive-
ness to color, and to varieties of light and shade. The following
description of a sunset is typical:
"The sun was now descending low, and cast the broad shades
of evening athwart the landscape, while his beams, gleaming with
yellow lustre through the valleys, spread over the inlightened
summits of the mountains a thousand lovely tints--in sober har-
mony where some deep recess was faintly shadowed-in splendid
hue where jutting knolls or promontories received fuller radiance
of the diverging ray. The air was still. The lake, one vast
expanse of crystal mirror. The mountain shadows, which some-
times give the water a deep, black hue (in many circumstances
extremely picturesque) were softened here into a mild blue tint
which swept over half the surface. The other half received the
fair impression of every radiant form that glowed around. The
inverted landscape was touched in fainter colours than the real
one. Yet it was more than laid in.
more than laid in. It was almost finished.
What an admirable study for the pallet is such a scene as this!
"No one can paint a country properly," he says, "unless he
has seen it in various lights." The local variations caused by
the weather, the time of day, the time of year, "cannot be too
much attended to by all lovers of landscape." "Every landscape
is seen best under some peculiar illumination." He has always the
painter's eye for fogs, mist, haze, soft coloring, atmosphere.
""
Gilpin studied nature according to the rules of art, because,
as he said, these rules were drawn from nature. No man resented
more quickly than he the transforming hand of man in natural
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207
scenes. If lands must be turned to agricultural uses, if fields must
be marked off, he only wishes that it might be made as little appar-
ent as possible. He hates "a multiplicity of glaring temples" in a
landscape. He thinks most so-called adornments in private
grounds are mere "expensive deformity," and he calls regular
clipped hedges "objects of deformity.
objects of deformity." He apologizes for his
severe strictures on several estates in the Cumberland region by
saying that the grand natural scenes so filled his thought that he
could not restrain his contempt for mere embellished, artificial
ones.
Such passages are an emphatic indication of the revolu-
tion in taste since the days of the formal garden. Here is a
characteristic sentence written as they leave the Lakes:
"Here the hills grow smooth and lumpish, and the country
at every step loses some of the wild strokes of nature and degen-
erates, if I may so speak, into cultivation."
Not infrequently Gilpin turns from the painter's study of the
scene, and gives something of its poetical quality. In speak-
ing of the appeal made by the Lake Country to the imagination
he says,
"No tame country, however beautiful, however adorned, can
distend the mind like this awful and majestic scenery."
Of Ulzwater on a perfectly serene day he says,
"So solemn and splendid a scene raises in the mind a sort of
enthusiastic calm which spreads a mild complacence over the
breast, a tranquil pause of mental operations which may be felt
but not described."
And again in his Essay on Picturesque Travel,
"We are most delighted when some grand scene, though per-
haps of incorrect composition, rising before the eyes, strikes us
beyond the power of thought-when the vox faucibus haeret and
every mental operation is suspended. In this pause of intellect,
this deliquum of the soul, an enthusiastic sensation of pleasure
overspreads it. We rather feel than survey the scene."
These last passages inevitably recall Wordsworth's analysis of
his own emotions before a beautiful view when
'Thought was not; in enjoyment it expired,”
or the better known lines in Tintern Abbey.
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TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
On the whole, Gilpin represents the new spirit more fully
than any of the other early travelers. He notes the permanent
and the evanescent. He observes color, form, and motion. The
severely technical quality of his descriptions does not seriously
interfere with the impression they give of pleasure in free, wild
nature, and he again and again shows himself capable of an
imaginative communion with nature.
In 1773, Mr. Hutchinson and his brother, an accomplished
draughtsman, made a tour through the Lakes. In 1774, after the
death of his brother, Mr. Hutchinson went over the ground again
in order to verify his brother's incomplete sketches. The obser-
vations made in these two tours were published under the title
An Excursion to the Lakes in Westmoreland and Cumberland.
Hutchinson's dislike of the wild and desolate region of Stainmore
has already been cited, but that quotation alone would give a
most unfair impression of the book as a whole. His pleasure in
nature is great. He cares especially for artistic effects of light
and shade, and he often spends pages on the changing beauty of
a landscape seen at sunset, or sunrise, or after a storm. A single
passage may stand as illustrative of many similar ones in the book.
"At the foot of this vast range of hills three smaller mounts,
of an exact conic form, running parallel, beautified the scene,
being covered with verdure to their crowns; the nearest, called
Dufton Pike, was, shadowed by a passing cloud, save only the
summit of its cone, which was touched by a beam which painted
it with gold; the second pike was all enlightened and gave its
verdure to the prospect as if mantled with velvet; the third stood
shadowed, whilst all the range of hills behind were struck with
sunshine, showing their cliffs, caverns, and dells in grotesque
variety and giving the three pikes a picturesque projection on the
landscape;-nature, as if delighted to charm the eye of man, at
this time cast an accidental beauty over the scene; the small
clouds which chequered the sky, as they passed along, spread
their flitting shadows on the distant mountains and seemed to
marble them; a beauty which I do not recollect has struck any
painter, and which has not been described even by the bold hand
of the immortal Poussin."
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209
Mr. Hutchinson had evidently read many of the books treat-
ing especially of the beauty of nature. He quotes the whole of
Dr. Brown's Letter and much of Mr. Dalton's Poem. He also
quotes freely from Thomson's Seasons, Mason's Garden, and Pen-
nant's account of Derwentwater. He was familiar with the earlier
landscape painting, for he frequently compares pleasing scenes
to the work of Claude or Poussin. Some of the most effective
descriptions are of the road from Keswick to Ambleside, "the
finest ride in the north of England;" of the cataract near Amble-
side, probably Stock Gill Force; of the ascent of Skiddaw and
of a thunderstorm seen from its summit; of Derwentwater from
various points of view, and of a moonlight row upon the lake.
They are too long to quote, but they all show faithful and minute
observation, artistic appreciation of beauties of form and color,
and, occasionally, a lively sense of the deeper significance of the
places visited.
端
​The most important English tours were made between 1768
and 1778. Pennant, Gray, Young, Gilpin, and Hutchinson
made during this ten years sixteen rather extended journeys, of
which they gave full accounts. Besides these we have Dr. John-
son's A Journey to the Hebrides (1773; pub. 1775), Boswell's
Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides (1773; pub. 1786), and Bray's
Tour Into Derbyshire (1777). In Boswell's Journey there is not
the slightest indication of any interest in the scenery through
which they passed, and the general impression given by Boswell
is that Johnson's indifference was equal to his own. For instance,
Boswell wonders at the outset if a man who has known "the
felicity of London life" can fail to find any narrower existence
"insipid or irksome." He quotes Dr. Johnson as saying at
Portree that he "longed to be again in civilized life." He
records his famous sayings, "By seeing London I have seen
as much of life as the world can show," and "Who can like
the Highlands?" This is not quite fair to Johnson, because
in his own
account of the Scotch tour and in his letters
there are a few passages that indicate close observation, and
even enjoyment, of the wild scenes about him. The finest passage
is a description of a storm:
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TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
+
"The night came on while we had yet a great part of the way
to go, though not so dark but that we could discern the cataracts
which poured down the hills on one side, and fell into one gen-
eral channel that ran with great violence on the other. The
wind was loud, the rain was heavy, and the whistling of the blast,
the fall of the shower, the rush of the cataracts, and the roar of
the torrent, made a nobler chorus of the rough music of Nature
than it had ever been my chance to hear before.”
But Johnson's attitude towards the external world was, on the
whole, the typical classical one, and is well illustrated by his
reply to Mr. Thrale's attempt to win his admiration of a fine
prospect.
"Never heed such nonsense ; a blade of grass is always a
blade of grass, whether in one country or another. Let us, if we
do talk, talk about something; men and women are my subjects
of inquiry."
Mr. Bray's Tour has a full map and is written somewhat in
the guide-book style. Industries, architecture, history, family
chronicles, anecdotes, inscriptions, fill up its 135 closely printed
folio pages.
There is comparatively little about the scenes
through which he passed. In describing the various estates
which he visited pages are given to house-furnishings for a single
paragraph on the grounds. But these seldom go unnoticed.
He dislikes the formal garden. He objects to the reg-
ular cascades at Matlock. He thinks that the conceits in
the waterworks at Chatsworth might have been deemed wonderful
when they were made, "but those who have contemplated
the waterfalls which nature exhibits in this country
will receive little pleasure from seeing a temporary stream falling
down a flight of steps, spouted out of the mouths of dolphins or
dragons, or squirted from the leaves of a copper tree." The
most extended description is of the gardens at Stowe, which he
praises because, though laid out in the formal style, their regu-
larity has been broken up and disguised. Mr. Bray also shows a
liking for wild and romantic scenery. He frequently mentions
wide views, and condemns Compton Wyngate because it has no
prospect, of which, he adds, "our ancestors appear to have scarce
•
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J
ever thought." The spots he enjoyed most are Matlock High
Tor, and wild places on the Dore and the Derwent, Aysgarth
Force in the Eure, and rocky Gordale. He noted especially
waterfalls and rivers. Of the Derwent at Matlock he says:
"It is a most romantic and beautiful ride. The river is some-
times hid behind trees, sometimes it glides smooth and calm,
sometimes a distant fall is heard; here it tumbles over a ledge of
rocks stretching quite across, there it rushes over rude fragments,
torn by storms from the impending masses. Each side, but par-
ticularly the farther one, is bordered by lofty rocks, generally
clothed with wood, in the most picturesque manner.”
Passages such as this, though perhaps not very effective, show
an attention arrested by the beauties of nature. There is a close-
ness of detail indicating first-hand observation, and the prevailing
tone shows that Mr. Bray justly claims for himself "a taste for
nature in her genuine simplicity."
Of the Travels after 1778, numerous as they are, few need
special mention, because almost no really new elements appear in
them. A few new tours are sketched out, as to the Isle of Wight
and the Isle of Man. But in general the same old ground is
gone over, the preference still being accorded to Scotland, Wales,
and the English Lakes. In 1796, but three years before Words-
worth went to Dove Cottage, there appeared four new Tours to
the Lakes by Rudworth, Walker, Houseman, and Hutchinson.
In 1794-5 there were five Tours in Wales. Of a few of these
books perhaps some mention should be made.
The Rev. Mr. Shaw's Tour (1788) in the west of England is
significant for two reasons. It is one of the first books to make
literary associations prominent in the description. He says that
Woodstock is classic ground because Chaucer lived there; Horton
is sacred because of Milton; Beaconsfield, because of Waller;
Windsor Forest, because of Pope; and Stoke Pogis, because of
"the sublime and the pathetic Gray." The second point of sig-
nificance is Mr. Shaw's evident irritation at the apparently over-
weening attention to mountains. He says that if people could
forget Skiddaw and Ben Lomond for a little while they might
be able to see the rich beauty of the champaign country about
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TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
Malvern Hills. Mr. Shaw goes back to the "crowds and bustle
of London with great regret because, he says, no matter what
society you find there, nothing can make up for the pensive
enjoyments of a feeling mind in a picturesque country.
Hassel's Tour of the Isle of Wight (1790) is in the style of
Gilpin's work. The general knowledge of the Lake Country and
the general admiration of it is shown by his comparisons. A
certain spot has "all the appearance of a Westmoreland scene.”
Certain noble hills "rise with all the majesty of the Skiddaw
mountains." Hassel's purpose is a search for the picturesque.
He especially notes rich effects of color, and the varying lights
of sunrise and sunset. He sees nature in a succession of pic-
tures, but his language is free from the technicalities of Gilpin.
""
Robertson's Tour in the Isle of Man (1794) has little effective
description, but it is noteworthy as one of the first books of
travel to be infected by the sentimental melancholy of the
romancers. His Manxmen "recline by some romantic stream
in the true pensive spirit. He visits churchyards and solitary
places. He pores over the mazy stream, he watches the rooks, he
listens to the sighing evening breeze, very much like one of Mrs.
Brooke's lovelorn heroes. Occasionally he has some expressions
of deeper import, as when he says that Nature not only charms
the eye "but purifies and ennobles the soul." "The mind is
filled with divine enthusiasm." He is, however, perhaps ade-
quately characterized by the word "romantic," which he uses
until it becomes almost unbearable.
Of Travels in general we may say that the transfer of empha-
sis from man to nature is strongly marked. The love of nature
as shown in Travels is later in development than it is in poetry,
but when the new feeling does find expression it sounds no
uncertain note, and by the end of the century has reached a
statement as bold and unqualified as that which is found in the
poetry itself.
1
CHAPTER V.
FICTION.
The great achievement of the eighteenth century was in the
development of fiction. The famous names here are, of course,
Richardson, Fielding, Smollett, and Sterne. After them, and also
to a less degree, contemporary with them, are many writers of
fiction the quality of whose work has consigned them to the
list of "The Neglected, the Disdained, the Forgotten," and
in most cases it would be a literary misfortune if by any chance
they should fall into the fourth class, "The Resuscitated," As lit-
erature they are almost unreadable. It is only from the histori-
cal point of view that they can arouse any real interest. For the
present purpose I do not pretend to have read all the works of
fiction written in the eighteenth century. The forty-three men-
tioned here were selected because by their dates they represent the
century as a whole, and because they represent also the various
kinds of fiction. I shall first speak of these briefly in chrono-
logical order, and then indicate such general statements as may
seem the legitimate outcome of the facts presented. The one
point to be considered is the use made of external nature in the
novel or romance.
The Sir Roger de Coverley papers (Addison and Steele, 1712)
are continuous narratives marked by some at least of the charac-
teristics of the coming English novel. Many of these papers pur-
port to be written from the country and Will Wimble complains
that they "begin to smell confoundedly of woods and meadows."
After a time the author finds himself growing short of subjects in
the country and returns to town as the true "field of game for
sportsmen of his species." Though written from the country the
papers have nothing about country scenes except frequent phrases
such as, "We then took a walk in the fields," and one brief
213
.
41
I
214
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
¿
!
description of “a solemn walk of elms," unless, indeed, we might
add the pleasure the author took in his friend's poultry yard.
The stress is all on country people.
Robinson Crusoe (Defoe, 1719), the first great example of the
voyage imaginaire, necessarily regards nature from the point of
view of immediate utility. The whole interest of the book rests
on the mechanical ingenuity whereby man subdues nature. There
are few if any passages where Robinson Crusoe is represented as
being in any way sensitive to the beauty or charm of nature.
In Pamela (Richardson, 1740) there is much talk about the
value of travel in Great Britain and on the continent, but there
is not a word about the scenery of the places visited. Pamela
sums up her impressions of travel in England in one sentence.
"These excursions have given me infinite delight and pleasure,
and enlarged my notions of the wealth and power of the king-
dom." (Vol. 3, p. 304.) When Lord B. and Pamela are spend-
ing their honeymoon in their Kentish house they plan certain
improvements such as cutting a vista through the coppice; they
train the vines around the windows because they love the mingled
odors of woodbines and jessamines; and they listen for two hours
at a stretch to the "responsive songs of two warbling nightin-
gales" (2:163). Earlier in their career, during a walk in the
garden, the fragrance from a bank of flowers inspires Lord B. to
sing a typical eighteenth century song of which this is one
stanza :
"The purple violet, damask rose,
Each, to delight your senses, blows.
The lilies ope as you appear;
And all the beauties of the year
Diffuse their odours at your feet,
Who give to ev'ry flower its sweet."
There is not a hint in the book of any feeling towards nature
except such as is characteristic of the pseudo-classical poetry.
In Joseph Andrews (Fielding, 1742) there are four brief pas-
sages in which nature is touched upon. Two of these are evi-
dently meant as satires on the ordinary descriptions of sunrise.
The first one is as follows:
FICTION.
215
"Aurora now began to show her blooming cheeks over the
hills, whilst ten millions of feathered songsters, in jocund chorus,
repeated odes a thousand times sweeter than those of our laureate "
(p. 43.
Cf. p. 219). The longest description is of a vale with a
winding rivulet, many trees, and soil "spread with a verdure
which no paint could imitate," the whole place being such as
"might have raised romantic ideas in older minds than those of
Joseph and Fanny" (p. 226).
In Jonathan Wild (Fielding, 1743) there are no references to
the world of nature.
In David Simple (Sarah Fielding, 1744) the search of the hero
for a true friend is so complicated and absorbing an occupation
that there is no room for observation of the external world.
In Clarissa Harlowe (Richardson, 1748) there is one simile
drawn from nature (2:478), one mention of the "variegated pros-
pects" from Hampstead Heath (3:198) and one reference to an
overgrown ivy so thick as to be a shelter from the rain (1:394)•
In Roderick Random (Smollett, 1748) there are no references
to nature.
Of the eight passages referring to nature in Tom Jones (Field-
ing, 1749) two are satirical of the conventional descriptions and
similitudes of the day.
"Aurora now first opened her casement, Anglicè, the day
began to break" (2: 9).
"As in the month of June, the damask rose, which chance
hath planted among the lilies, with their candid hues mixes his
vermilion; or, as some playful heifer in the pleasant month of
May diffuses her odoriferous breath over the flowery meadows;
or as, in the blooming month of April, the gentle, constant dove,
perched on some fair bough, sits meditating on her mate," so sits
Sophia, "looking a hundred charms, and breathing as many
sweets, her thoughts being fixed on her Tommy" (2: 61).
A third passage, also satirical, is,
'And now the moon began to put forth her silver light, as
the poets call it (though she looked at that time more like a piece
of copper)" (2: 172). There is one appreciative reference to the
attractive scenery of Devon and Dorset. The description of Mr.
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TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
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Allworthy's estate which owed "less to art than to nature," is
modern in tone and marks the break already made with the for-
mal garden (1: 12). In another passage there is an expression
of pleasure in a wide prospect, seen by moonlight, for "the sol-
emn light which the moon casts on all objects is beyond
expression beautiful, especially to an imagination which is
desirous of cultivating melancholy ideas" (1:422).
(1:422). The other
passages are of no significance.
Peter Wilkins (Robert Paltock, 1750) is the first and most
famous of the successors of Robinson Crusoe. The scene of Peter's
trials and successes is laid in Africa and the southern islands.
There is but one brief passage in which there is even the slight-
est indication that the author thought of nature from any but the
utilitarian point of view.
Pompey the Little (Coventry, 1751) is a romance ostensibly.
relating with serio.comic minuteness the life and adventures of
a lapdog much in the manner of the Novele picaresco of Mendozo
and Aleman, but really dealing in thinly disguised social satire.
It makes no use of nature, unless we may count poor Mr. Rhymer
who looks at the moon and quotes Milton to the extravagant
amusement of a group of dandies who observe him.
In Peregrine Pickle (Smollett, 1751) Peregrine sings one of
the conventional songs to Emilia, beginning,
Thy charms divinely bright appear
And add new splendor to the year."
This is the only use of nature in the book. The eighteen
months of travel in France and Holland do not suggest a single
phrase about the scenery of those countries.
Mrs. Lennox's The Female Quixote (1752) is a record of the
absurd and futile attempts of a beautiful maiden unfortunately
brought up on "the languishing love romances of the Calprene-
dos and the Scuderis" to make over the practical world about her
according to the laws of love and chivalry. Almost all her adven-
tures occur in the country, but there are only two references to
the outdoor world. Of the estate of the marquis it is said:
"The most laborious endeavours of art had been expended to
FICTION.
217
...
make it appear like the beautiful product of wild uncultivated
nature."
In another passage the heroine is said to lead her unhappy
friend into the garden, "supposing a person whose uneasiness
proceeded from love would be pleased with the sight of groves
and streams.'
""
In Ferdinand Count Fathom (Smollett, 1753) there is merely
a conventional description of a furious storm.
In Sir Charles Grandison (Richardson, 1753) there are two
interesting passages concerning the estate of Sir Charles. It was
his aim not "to force and distort nature, but to help it as he
finds it, without letting art be seen in his works, where he can
possibly avoid it (2: 276). A part of the estate was evidently
laid out according to the ideas of Kent and Brown, but the
orchard “with its regular semicircle rows of pears, apples, cher-
ries, plums and apricots, arranged according to the season of
flowering," belonged to the days of Sir Thomas, when symmetry
and regularity ruled (4:238). In this novel also is Richardson's
frequently quoted description of Savoy, "equally noted for its
poverty and rocky mountains.
one of the worst countries
under heaven" (3:138-142).
We have now passed the middle of the century and there has
not been in the works of fiction mentioned a single passage indi-
cating any close observation or love of nature, and hardly a
passage showing any knowledge of nature except as found in
parks and gardens. But in 1756-66 there appeared a fantastic
novel by Thomas Amory called The Life of John Buncle, which
is notable in the present study because nearly all the adventures
whereby the hero gains and loses his seven Socinian wives occur
among the mountains of Westmoreland and Cumberland. We
have but to compare the book with Mrs. Ward's Robert Elsmere
to see how extravagantly unreal are most of Amory's descrip-
tions. They often contain marvels equal to those of Vathek. The
mountains are made as lofty and dangerous as the most inacces-
sible Alps, and they are so heaped in together that progress from
one valley to another would be out of the question were it not
for convenient caves and natural tunnels by which the venture-
•
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TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
some hero makes his way from vale to vale. But in the midst of
these absurdities and impossiblities, there are occasional passages
of effective description, and of real appreciation of wild moun-
tain scenery. It is an entirely new note in fiction and it followed
close upon the poem by Dr. Dalton, which was probably the first
poetical tribute to the scenery of the Lakes. Mr. Amory aptly
describes mountain tarns as pools of "black, standing, unfathom-
able water." (Vol. 1, p. 290.) He frequently gives enthusiastic
descriptions of the views from mountain tops. In one passage
he says:
"I climbed up to the top by a steep, craggy way. This was
very difficult and dangerous, but I had an enchanting prospect
when I gained the summit of the hill.
The vast hills had
•
a fine effect in the view" (2: 122; cf. 1:167).
(2:122;
Of Westmoreland he says:
The Vale of Keswick and Lake of Derwentwater, in Cum-
berland, are thought by those who have been there to be the finest
point of view in England, and extremely beautiful they are, far
more so than Dr. Dalton has been able to make them appear in
his descriptive poem; or than the Doctor's brother, Mr. Dalton,
has painted them in his fine drawings; and yet they are inferior
in charms to the vale, the lake, the brooks, the shaded sides of the
surrounding mountains, and the tuneful falls of water to which
we came in Westmoreland. In all the world, I believe, there is
not a more glorious scene to be seen in the fine time of the
year" (3:93). And, again, “Westmoreland is the most beauti-
ful and romantic solitude in the world" (3:151). The first vol-
ume of Amory's book appeared in 1756. The other volumes
written at intervals thereafter, were published in 1766. The best
passages are in the third volume, but at the latest they must have
been written three years before Gray made his tour to the lakes.
It would be interesting to know whether Gray had read John
Buncle, as Amory had Dalton's poem. At any rate Amory's
novel shows how early the Lake District was visited by lovers of
the beautiful, for he not only describes it himself, but he speaks as
if there were already a good deal of discussion as to the rival
charms of Keswick and Westmoreland.
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219
In Rasselas (Dr. Johnson, 1759) the scenery of the Happy
Valley is briefly described. Since it was a spot where "all the
diversities of the world were brought together, the blessings of
nature were collected, and its evils were extracted and excluded,”
it would be in vain to look for first-hand description. We
have merely an impossible combination of millennial details. After
leaving the Happy Valley Imlac wanders through the world, but
his only impression from nature is a feeling of repulsion at the
"barren uniformity" of the ocean. When he tried to be a
poet he did, to be sure, turn to nature. He "ranged mountains.
and deserts for images and similitudes" in true classical style.
He studied trees and flowers, he wandered along rivulets, and
sometimes he watched the clouds, for "to a poet nothing can be
useless." Dr. Johnson's use of nature in Rasselas is tasteless and
insipid.
Sterne's one allusion to nature in Tristram Shandy (1759–67)
is too characteristic to be omitted. It occurs in the description
of a journey.
"There is nothing more terrible to travel-writers than a large
rich plain, especially if it is without great rivers or bridges; and
presents nothing to the eye but one unvaried picture of plenty ;
for after they have once told you that it is delicious or delightful
(as the case may happen); that the soil was grateful and that
nature pours out all her abundance, etc., they have then a large
plain upon their hands which they know not what to do with and
which is of little or no use to them but to carry them to the next
town."
In Almoran and Hamet (Hawkesworth, 1761), an Oriental
Tale, there is no use of nature except in a few far fetched sim-
iles, and one or two phrases about the lengthening evening
shadows.
In Sir Launcelot Greaves (Smollett, 1762) there is no reference
to nature except in a sarcastic allusion to poets who cannot talk
of a beautiful girl without "blending the lily and the rose and
bringing in a parcel of similes of cowslips, carnations, pinks, and
daisies."
Mrs. Brooke's The History of Lady Julia Mandeville (1763)
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TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
has a hero and a heroine who rejoice in "a genuine taste for ele-
gant nature," and their letters contain some descriptive passages
evidently intended to combine vividness and elegance. The gar-
dens and parks behind the house are 'romantic beyond the
wantonness of imagination," and the whole adjoining country
has "every charm of lovely unadorned nature." Beyond the
house there is "an avenue of the tallest trees which lets in the
prospect of a fruitful valley, bounded at a distance by a moun-
tain, down the sides of which rushes a foaming cascade, which
spreads into a thousand meandering streams in the vale below."
In the woods are rustic temples "in the most elegant style of
simplicity." At the close of a walk they come to a grotto
wildly lovely, its entrance almost hidden by the vines that flaunt
over its top," and there they find an opportune repast with ser-
vants in attendance. The motherly care with which Mrs. Brooke
preserves her delicately bred characters from roughness or
fatigue or hunger interferes somewhat with her attempts to repre-
sent "simple, unadorned nature," and in spite of her protests
against "the gloomy haunts of London" she never quite gets
out into the free country. Her raptures have a forced, made-up
air. The exclamatory ecstacy of such passages as the following
is certainly open to suspicion :
“What a divine morning! how lovely is the face of nature!
The blue serene of Italy with the lovely verdure of England!
But behold a more charming object than nature herself!
sweet, the young, the blooming Lady Julia!"
The
There is a more genuine ring to Lady Wilmot's protest,
"The finest landscape is a dreary wild without people."
Most of the action in Mrs. Brooke's second novel, Emily
Montague, is laid in Canada, which country Mrs. Brooke had
visited. The book represents her enjoyment of the strange
scenes about her. The beauty of the river Montmorenci more
than repays Miss Arabella Fermor for the fatigues of a voyage
across the Atlantic. The hero finds that the streams and mount-
ains of England seem petty when he is in the presence of the
majesty and sublimity of the western world. The descriptions.
are perhaps over elaborate, but they are not ineffective, and
་
FICTION
221
they show much closer knowledge of natural phenomena and
more real interest in them than do the tamer passages in the
preceding novel.
In the famous Castle of Otranto (Walpole, 1764) there is no
use whatever of nature.
In Brooke's Fool of Quality (1766) the sky is fitly spoken of as
"a stupendous expanse sumptuously furnished with a profusion of
planets." Certainly no other sort of sky would have presumed
to bend down over Mr. Brooke's stupendous little prig of a hero.
The chief use of nature, however, is in similes for Harry's counte-
nance which is "like sunshine on a dark day," or a
lake on a
summer's evening showing heaven in its bosom," or, if bathed in
tears as it frequently was, "like the sun in a shower."
(C
The charm of The Vicar of Wakefield (Goldsmith, 1766) rests
upon its sweetness and purity, its quaint humor, and its quality
of fresh, open-air wholesomeness. Its use of nature is of the
most casual, unemphasized sort. There are not in the whole
work twenty-five lines concerning the country scenes in which all
the action takes place. And yet these simple, direct phrases
have a magical power of suggestion.
The seat under the haw-
thorn where the family drank their tea and watched the sunset,
the dinner in the hayfield, the brief description of the little farm,
have in them the power of reality and do more to give a free,
out of-doors atmosphere to the story than all Mrs. Brooke's pan-
egyrics. But here, as in Goldsmith's other works, the stress is
on the characters, and the little, truthful pictures of nature seem
almost accidental.
In Sterne's Sentimental Journey (1768) there is no use of
external nature.
Of Mackenzie's Man of Feeling (1771) the same may be said
unless, indeed, we except one reference to a scene "not unlike
Salvator's back-grounds."
Smollett's Humphrey Clinker (1771) is the last of his novels
and the only one in which there is effective use of nature. Smol-
lett was born and brought up in the valley of the Leven; and he
spent some months there before the final trip to Italy for his
health.
He was in Leghorn about a year before he died
*
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វ
i
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TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
and during this year he wrote Humphrey Clinker. It recounts
the travels of Matthew Bramble in search of health. The love of
nature comes out chiefly in the letters supposed to be written
from Scotland. He speaks with pleasure of the “huge dusky
mountains of the West Highlands, piled one over another," and
of Loch Lomond, that "surprising body of pure, transparent
water, unfathomably deep in many places" with its green, wooded
islands. "I have seen the Lago di Gardi," he exclaims," Albano,
De Vico, Bolsena, and Geneva, and, upon my honor, I prefer
Loch Lomond to them all; a preference which is certainly owing
to the verdant islands that seem to float upon its surface, afford-
ing the most enchanting objects of repose to the excursive view.
Nor are the banks destitute of beauties, which even partake of
the sublime. On this side they display a sweet variety of wood-
land, cornfield, and pasture, with several agreeable villas emerg-
ing as it were out of the lake, till at some distance the prospect
terminates in huge mountains, covered with heath, which being
in the bloom, affords a very rich covering of purple. Everything
here is romantic beyond imagination (p. 261).
“Above the house is a romantic glen or cleft of a mountain
covered with hanging woods, having at bottom a stream of fine
water that forms a number of cascades in its descent to form the
Leven; so that the scene is quite enchanting . . . . This country
is amazingly wild, especially towards the mountains, which are
heaped upon the backs of one another, making a most stupend-
ous appearance of savage nature, with hardly any signs of cultiva-
tion, or even of population. All is sublimity, silence, and soli-
tude” (p. 263–265).
In the country of Ossian they find especial delight:
"These are the lonely hills of Morven, where Fingal and his
heroes enjoyed the same pastime. I feel an enthusiastic pleasure
when I survey the brown heath that Ossian was wont to tread;
and hear the wind whistle through the bending grass
poems of Ossian are in every mouth.'
The
Smollett's love for the Leven, that "charming stream
transparent, pastoral, delightful," is further evidenced by his Ode
to the Leven, a single stanza of which may be quoted here:
.
FICTION
223
"Pure stream in whose transparent wave
My youthful limbs I wont to lave;
No torrents stain thy limpid source,
No rocks impede thy dimpling course,
That sweetly warbles o'er its bed,
With white round polished pebbles spread" (p. 262).
Smollett has one character who labored under aλpopoßia, or
horror of green fields, but that was manifestly not his own case.
Though he completely ignored nature in his other books, Hum-
phrey Clinker is ample proof of his sensitiveness to nature and
his descriptive power. It needed a touch of homesickness and
the vivifying force of early associations to bring the feeling
to the surface, but as soon as it found expression there was
revealed a closeness of observation and a genuineness of affection
for nature in her milder forms not found in any novel before
Humphrey Clinker. The nearest approach to it is in the fantastic
work of Amory.
In Clara Reeve's Old English Baron (1777) there is one brief
conventional passage about the morning serenade of the birds
and the fragrance of the woodbine (p. 27).
In Julia de Roubigné (1777) Mackenzie makes more use of
nature than he had in The Man of Feeling. Julia and Savillon
are both represented as finding pleasure in the beautiful country
around them. In one letter Julia says,
"Methinks I should hate to have been born in a town; when
I say my native brook, or my native hill, I talk of friends of
whom the remembrance warms my heart." In the serenity of
nature she finds calmness after spiritual tumult. Belville, the
home of Julia, is described as "a venerable pile, the remains
of ancient Gothic magnificence." The most attractive part of
the estate was “a wild and rocky dell, where tasteless wealth had
never warred on nature, nor even elegance refined or embellished
her beauties. The walks are only worn by the tread of shepherds
and the banks only smoothed by the feeding of their flocks."
There is great regret expressed when the new owner of Belville
cuts down the trees, and puts in modern adornments "which they
+
224
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
call Chinese." In this novel Mackenzie shows a real though nar-
row appreciation of free, unsubdued nature.
In Fanny Burney's Evelina (1778) the only touch of nature is
a criticism of Vauxhall Gardens as being too formal and regular.
In Cecilia (1782) there is no use of nature.
William Beckford's Vathek (1784) is an extravaganza where
there is no pretense of representing nature as it is. A single
quotation will give the general tone. It is a description of a
high mountain:
"Upon it grew a hundred thickets of eglantine and other fra-
grant shrubs, a hundred arbours of roses, jessamines and honey-
suckle, as many clumps of orange trees, cedar, and citron whose
branches interwoven with the palm, the pomegranate, and the
vine, presented every luxury that could regale the eye or the
The ground was strewed with violets, harebells, and pan-
sies, in the midst of which sprang forth tufts of jonquils, hya-
cinths, and carnations, with every other perfume that impregnates.
the air."
taste.
In Dr. Moore's Zeluco (1789) neither the hero himself, that
“finished model of depravity," nor any of the characters associa-
ted with him, show any knowledge of the existence of any world
outside their own intrigues and counter-intrigues.
Mrs. Inchbald's A Simple Story (1791) is a study of true and
false education. There is in it no word concerning nature. The
same may be said of her Nature and Art, published in 1796.
Godwin's story, Caleb Williams (1794), has one brief, conven-
tional description of a sunrise. This ignoring of nature seems
the more surprising in Godwin since his next novel, published
ten years later, Fleetwood, or the New Man of Feeling, is full of
the wild scenery of Wales and is really the study of a character
made sensitive by early and constant communion with nature.
But this novel would carry us into the next century.
Another novel of some repute towards the close of the cen-
tury is Robert Bage's Hemsprong, or Man as He is Not (1796).
It was read chiefly for its political bias towards the popular demo-
cratical doctrines. The scene is laid chiefly in the country and
there are occasional pleasant bits of description. They are unim-
FICTION
225
portant, but the book cannot be dismissed without a reference to
the hero who was compelled, by lack of funds, to seek a country
retreat, and who fortified his failing resolution to leave the beloved
city by quoting Thomson's Seasons.
The two authors who first made extensive use of nature in
fiction are Mrs. Charlotte Smith and Mrs. Ann Radcliffe.
Mrs. Smith shows in her novels and poems a really ardent
enjoyment, though seldom a close knowledge of nature. She
indulges in long and animated descriptions of places of which
she has only vaguely heard and the result is sometimes as amaz-
ing as the scenes in Vathek. In The Old Manor House (1793),
her best work, a part of the scene is laid in the northern United
States and Canada. Here is her idea of spring in that region :
"The forest in only a few hours after the severest weather,
which had buried the whole country in snow, burst into bloom,
and presented, beneath the tulip tree and the magnolia, a more
brilliant variety of flowers than art can collect in the most culti-
vated European garden.”
"The following is a description of Canada on the banks of
the St. Lawrence, "a very few days" after the severest winter
weather:
"On the opposite side of the river lay an extensive savannah,
alive with cattle and coloured with such a variety of swamp plants
that their colour, even at that distance, detracted something from
the vivid green of the new-sprung grass . . . The acclivity on
which the tents stood sinking very suddenly on the left, there
gave place to a cyprus swamp . . . while the rocks rising sud-
denly and sharply were clothed with wood of various species; the
evergreen oak, the scarlet oak, the tulip tree and magnolia, seemed
bound together by festoons of flowers, some resembling the con-
volvuleses of our garden, and others the various sorts of clematis
with vegenias and the Virginia creeper . . . . beneath these
fragrant wreaths that wound about the trees, tufts of rhododen-
drons, and azalia, of andromedas and calmias, grew in the luxuriant
beauty; and strawberries already ripening, or even ripe, peeped
forth among the rich vegetation of grass and flowers."
Mrs. Smith's imagination certainly had other laws than the
226
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
dull ones imposed by the facts of the case. She could hardly
have mixed up zones and seasons and flowers and fruits more
successfully if she had tried. But the notable point here is that
there was in her mind an instinctive and inevitable dwelling upon
the scenery of the country through which she led her hero. The
English scenes are much better. The following passage shows
well her emotional openness to the influence of nature.
"Just as he arrived at the water, from the deep gloom of the
tall firs through which he passed, the moon appeared behind the
opposite coppices, and threw her long line of trembling radiance
on the water. It was a cold but clear evening, and, though early
in November, the trees were not yet entirely stripped of their dis-
coloured leaves; a low wind sounded hollow through the firs and
stone pines over his head, and then faintly sighed among the
reeds that crowded into the water; no other sound was heard
but, at distant intervals, the cry of the wild fowl concealed among
them, or the dull murmur of the current, which was now low.
Orlando had hardly ever felt himself so impressed with those
feelings which inspire poetic effusions: Nature appeared to pause
and to ask the turbulent and troubled heart of man, whether his
silly pursuits were worth the toil he undertook for them. Peace
and tranquillity seemed here to have retired to a transient abode;
and Orlando as slowly he traversed the narrow path over ground
made hollow by the roots of these old trees, stepped as lightly as
if he feared to disturb them. Insensibly he began to compare
this scene, the scene he everyday saw of rural beauty and rural
content with those into which his destiny was about to lead him."
Mrs. Barbauld says that Mrs. Smith was one of the first to
introduce description of scenery into fiction. That she had pre-
decessors we have already seen, but it is true that she laid much
more stress on nature than had any other novelist except Mrs.
Radcliffe. Mrs. Smith has frequent descriptions that are not
needed for the progress of the plot or the development of the
characters, but are written purely for their own sake. She also
often uses nature as dramatic background and she represents her
hero as deeply influenced by nature. Mrs. Smith's poems further
attest her love of nature. In one poem she says,
1
FICTION
227
"Farewell, Aruna! on whose varied shore
My early vows were paid to Nature's shrine.”
In another she addresses the South Downs,
Ah, hills beloved, where once a happy child,
Your beechen shades, your turfs, your flowers among,
I wove your bluebells into garlands wild.”
Mrs. Smith's life was a most unhappy one, and she found her
real comfort in nature.
Mrs. Radcliffe's Romance of a Forest (1791) appeared two
years before The Old Manor House, and The Mysteries of Udolpho
(1794) one year after. In these novels by Mrs. Radcliffe the
romantic landscape was presented in its complete form. Except
in the most rapid parts of the story there is greater stress on the
scenery than on the characters. Emily, Adeline, and Clara sel-
dom indulge in an emotion without first describing the dell or
glen or forest glade, to which they have wandered. They are
never too deeply agitated to observe the glories of sunrise and
sunset. A wide view can sooth any grief. This susceptibility of
the heroines to nature is represented as one of their greatest
charms. Mrs. Radcliffe had never seen most of the scenes she
described. She had never been in France, Italy, or Switzerland.
The landscapes she gives us do not bear the stamp of reality.
They are ideal compositions but they are never merely an inven-
tory nor are they impossible combinations. Though not exactly
true, they can be read with pleasure because the details are
blended into harmonious and lovely pictures which seem to have
caught the actual spirit of the places described. She delighted
in all kinds of nature, peaceful or wild, but her especial pleasure
was in those phases of nature ignored by the classicists. Moun-
tains, the ocean, the phenomena of the sky, and deep forests are
chiefly dwelt upon in her descriptions. Her love of the ocean is
really a new element in the general attitude towards nature.
Painting, poetry, and fiction had up to this time practically
ignored the ocean, but Mrs. Radcliffe in frequent passages shows
that her own feeling was that of Adeline, of whom she says,
"Of all the grand objects which nature had exhibited the
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TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
ocean supplied her with the most sublime admiration. She loved
to wander alone by its shore." It is, however, in the representation
of forest scenes that Mrs. Radcliffe's most effective work is done.
The wild and terrifying influence of the dark woods that cover
the Appenines, all the dim and shadowy loveliness, all the mys-
tery and suggestiveness of the romantic forest about the ruined
abbey reappear in her descriptions. Her feeling towards moun-
tains is one of almost extravagant delight in their vastness, their
wildness, their remoteness, and inaccessibility. She is deeply
sensitive to all the "goings on" in the sky. She catches with
accuracy the most ethereal, delicate, evanescent effects. It is
especially mystery and remoteness that she loves, hence night,
moonlight, and stars attract her. Closely connected with her
pleasure in the sky is her artistic openness to all aërial transfor-
mations. In her wide views over land and sea, in vistas caught
through forest glades, in pictures of twilight, or dawn, of sunrise,
or sunset, she seldom fails to note the quick shiftings of color
and form, the interplay of light and shade, the dimness, the trans-
parence, the luminosity, resulting from atmospheric changes.
She looked upon nature not only, as she said of one of her own
characters, "with the eye of an artist, but with the raptures of a
poet." The effect of nature on man in soothing his grief, modi-
fying his passions, and elevating his character is everywhere
insisted upon. As Adeline's eyes "wandered through the roman-
tic glades that opened into the forest her heart was gladdened."
Through the melancholy boughs the evening twilight which still
coloured the air, "diffused a solemnity that vibrated in thrilling
sensations upon the hearts of the travellers.
The
tranquillity of the scene, which autumn had touched with her
sweetest tints, softened her mind to a tender kind of melancholy."
The Alps
"filled her mind with sublime emotions." The
solitary grandeur of these scenes both "assisted and soothed
the melancholy of her heart."
The stillness and total
seclusion of the scene, the stupendous mountains, the gloomy
grandeur of the woods, "diffuse a sacred enthusiasm over the
mind and awaken sensations truly sublime."
Such a
scene "fills the soul with emotions of indescribable awe, and
7.
+
FICTION
229
seems to lift it to a nobler nature."
tone.
"It was in the tranquil
observation of beautiful nature" that Clara's mind recovered its
The moonlight on the sea seemed to "diffuse
peace."
Twilight sometimes "inspires the mind with
pensive tenderness," sometimes "exalts it to sublime mediations."
The Alps inspire reflections that "soften and elevate the
heart and fill it with the certainty of a present God."
Such
expressions were repeated with an insistence that becomes
monotonous. There is, indeed, an element of sameness in all
the descriptions, an effect the more tiresome because they are so
numerous. So large a descriptive element would hardly be
admitted in a novel today unless justified by some remarkable
power of word painting. Mrs. Radcliffe's descriptions would.
doubtless invite the modern reader, at least after a steady prog-
ress through four or five volumes, to do some judicious skipping.
But thought of as in her own day, Mrs. Radcliffe must always
rank as a discoverer, so new and fresh was this element she
brought into fiction. As is usual with discoverers she overworked
her idea. She was not a great genius. She was often weakly
sentimental. But she had a genuine and most ardent love of
nature, and, when at her best, had exceptional descriptive power.
Her fame and her influence on succeeding literature rest on these
characteristics.
In Fiction, as in Travels and Poetry and Gardening, there
is the transfer of interest from what man does or is to the
powers of untrammeled nature. The new spirit here, as in
Travels, is late in finding adequate expression. We can hardly
put any real beginnings of it earlier than John Buncle (1756-66).
Even after that, development is spasmodic and slow. In most
of the novels and romances we find the romantic impulse to see
strange lands, but men and manners absorb the attention of the
travelers. Mrs. Radcliffe's fugitives in The Romance of the Forest,
the travelers in The Mysteries of Udolpho, and Mrs. Brooke's
soldier in Emily Montague are really the first to make much of
the scenery through which they pass.
In general we may say that novels had little to do with
nature, and romances much. This may account for the lack of
A
-✰
230
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
:
reality in the descriptions. There is nothing in any work of
fiction at all correspondent to the temperate, truthful, clear-cut
work of Cowper and Burns. There is practically nothing of the
bald realism of John Scott, whose poetry was written rather in
the scientific temper with which most travels were undertaken.
Nor, on the other hand, is there anything of the visionary, mys-
tical power of Blake. The best use of nature in fiction is more
akin to the emotionalism of Beattie. Really, except for Mrs.
Radcliffe, and she came late in the century, fiction contributed
less to bring about the new attitude towards nature than did any
other form of art expression, except, perhaps, landscape painting.
CHAPTER VI.
LANDSCAPE PAINTING.
Two serious difficulties present themselves in any attempted
study of the development of English landscape painting up to
1800. One difficulty is that most of the pictures are practically
inaccessible, many of them being known only by name and the
more famous ones being scattered through various private and
public galleries. The second difficulty in tracing any progress
or development is that the pictures are usually undated. As a
rule the most that can be known is that such and such a picture
belongs in the earlier or later portion of the artist's productive
period. Furthermore, any adequate study would require close
knowledge of artistic technicalities and mechanical processes, for
much of the development is along the line of improved paper,
better pigments, new methods of work.
A recognition of these difficulties confines the following
brief sketch to very narrow lines. But fortunately the objective
point in the present study renders first-hand and technical
knowledge less imperative than it would otherwise be. It is not
so much the artist's method or his degree of success that is here
of interest. It is rather what his tastes. led him to wish to do,
what subjects he thought worthy of serious study, what concep-
tion of nature guided his work. Such information may be fairly
gleaned from biographies, letters, historical accounts, and critical
essays.¹
¹ In this sketch the following works have been used :
Adolph Siret: Dictionnaire Historique des Peintres.
Spooner: Dictionary of Painters.
Champlin and Perkins: Cyclopedia of Painters and Paintings.
Bryan Dictionary of Painters and Engravers.
Cunningham: British Painters.
Brydall: Art in Scotland.
Redgrave: Water Colour Painting in England.
231
232
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
Up to 1725 English painting is almost entirely concerned
Even a
with portraits and occasional historical pictures.
The same spirit pre-
landscape background is of rare occurrence.
vails throughout the eighteenth century; the predominating interest
is in such aspects of painting as have especially to do with man.
But along with this interest in portraits and historical represen-
tations, there was growing up an interest in landscape for its own
sake; and in the pictures where the human element still ruled
there was a change from the portrait of the noble lord or lady,
to pictures of humble life in rustic surroundings. It is this two-
fold change that is to be briefly indicated here.¹
Though Gainsborough and Wilson are usually counted the
founders of the modern English school of landscape painting,
we find indications that before their day some essays had been
Francis Place
made towards the representation of nature.
(d. 1728) is casually mentioned as having painted "a few land-
scapes" for his own amusement. Samuel Scott, whose work
comes after 1725, was called the best marine painter of his time.
Two fine examples of his work are Westminster Bridge, 1745, and
London Bridge, 1745. George Lambert (1710-1765) is said by
Bryan to be "the first English painter who treated landscape
with a pleasing and picturesque effect." John Wooton (d. 1765)
In 1727 he
painted chiefly racehorses and hunting scenes.
illustrated Gay's Fables. He also painted "excellent landscapes '
""
¹ Biese in Die Entwickelung des Naturgefühls, pp. 209-248, gives a brief
résumé of the development of landscape painting in Germany. He calls
Rubens and his school the first to make the painting of nature an independent
branch of art, while Ruysdael (1681) is the one in whom "die ganze Poesie der
"Alle diese
Natur" finds expression. His chapter closes with these words:
grossen Niederländer eilen weit der Poesie ihrer Zeit voraus; Gebirge und
Meer finden im Wort erst 100 Jahre später ihre begeisterten Schilderer, und ein
in sich stimmungsvoll, abgeschlossenes, lyrisches Landschaftsbild wird erst am
Ende des achtzehnten Jahrhunderts in der deutschen Dichtung geboren." In
England, it will be observed, the love of nature finds earlier and more abundant
expression in poetry than in painting, and its completest expression in Words-
worth's poetry precedes its complete expression in the great English landscape
painters of the early 19th century. See also for brief résumé of "Landschafts-
malerei" as an indication mainly of the increasing knowledge of distant lands
new forms of vegetation, etc., Humboldt, Kosmos, Vol. 2, pp. 47–58.
LANDSCAPE PAINTING
233
บ
I
in the Italian style. The Smiths of Chichester were brothers who
attained much local celebrity by the landscapes they painted of
the scenery in their own neighborhood. Their work comes after
1735. Of more importance is Paul Sandby (1725-1809), a tal-
ented artist who at eighteen went as a draughtsman with the Duke
of Cumberland through the Scotch Highlands, and who was so
deeply impressed with the beautiful scenery that he brought
back many drawings of it. Nine years later he made seventy draw-
ings of the scenery about Windsor. He also traveled in North
and South Wales and made many drawings of the picturesque scen-
ery there. He is called "the first to infuse nature into topograph-
ical drawings." An Irish painter of this period was John Butts
(d. 1764), the talented pupil of a mediocre artist named Rogers,
who is called the father of landscape art in Ireland. Butts's early
landscapes were "impressive copies from the wild scenes which
abound in the county of Cork, and the romantic views. that
abound on the margin of Black Water." Brydall says that
James Norris was "probably the first to create, or at least to min-
ister to the taste for landscape painting in the Scottish metropo-
lis." Alexander Runciman (1736-1785) began to paint landscapes
when he was but twelve years old. "Other artists," it was said,
“talked meat and drink, but Runciman talked landscape.” He
exhibited landscapes in 1755, but finding that no one would buy
his pictures he turned, in 1750, to historical paintings. One of
Runciman's most romantic undertakings was the decoration of
the hall at Pennycuik with paintings representing the poems of
Ossian.
From this brief summary of landscape art in Great Britain
before 1755 it will be seen that, late and feeble as were these
beginnings, they are yet significant of the coming treatment of
nature in art. There is an effort to represent landscape, an evi-
dent enjoyment of it, some first-hand study, and some pleasure
in the wilder aspects of the external world.
'Scott, in his Essay on Painting, speaks of "Smith's delightful spots" and
'Sandby's pleasant fields." In the same Essay he proposes hay-fields and hop-
grounds as new subjects of landscape, acknowledging that he is indebted for
the idea to Walpole.
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TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
The period before 1755 may properly be called the period of
inception. The rest of the century is the period of establish-
ment, at the very beginning of which stand Gainsborough and
Wilson.
Richard Wilson (1713–1782) intended to be a portrait painter
and went to Italy to study under Zuccarelli. While there he
sketched a landscape in "an idle hour" and was straightway per-
suaded by Zuccarelli and Vernet that he had found his true
work. His success was almost immediate. In 1755 he returned
to England and in 1760 exhibited the "Niobe" which estab-
tablished his reputation as a landscape painter. For the repre-
sentation of nature he had a twofold preparation, his youth in
Wales and his years of study in Italy. "He had long," says
Allan Cunningham, "been insensibly storing his mind with the
beauties of natural scenery, and the picturesque mountains and
glens of his native Wales had been to him an academy when he
was unconscious of their influence." In Italy he was led by his
extravagant admiration of Claude to study such landscape effects
as Claude had produced. His appreciation of nature was doubt-
less, as Cunningham says, greatly strengthened by his early sur-
roundings, but it was the years in Italy that détermined his choice
of artistic themes. He always preferred scenes of classic fame.
The four pictures in the Vernon Gallery, "The Ruined Temple,'
"Ruins in Italy," "Hadrian's Villa," and " Lake Avernus," are
fine characteristic specimens of his work. But though his pic-
tures are foreign in subject and manner of treatment, and though
he did sometimes introduce "gods, goddesses and ideal beings
into his landscapes, he was nevertheless the first of English
artists to show the possibilities of landscape art. He loved his
work passionately and became so devoted to it that he lost all
interest in men or in animals except as they "composed well" in
his landscapes. He did not copy other painters, but depended
on nature for his inspiration. While he counted painting " fac-
similes of scenes" mere unpoetic drudgery," he was always true
to the general spirit of the landscape. Cunningham says that he
caught the very "hue and character of Italian scenery." "He
observed Nature in all her appearances," says Fuseli, "and had a
""
LANDSCAPE PAINTING
235
characteristic touch for all her forms." There was, moreover, a
grandeur and sublimity of conception, a depth and tenderness of
poetic feeling about Wilson's pictures such as is not found in
English landscapes again before Girtin. Cunningham sums up
his work in the following words: "Wilson had a poet's feeling
and a poet's eye, selected his scenes with judgment and spread
them out in beauty and in all the fresh luxury of nature. He did
for landscape what Reynolds did for faces-with equal genius,
but far different fortune.”
Sir George Beaumont, himself an amateur artist of no small
ability, said that Wilson's genius had the qualities of Gray's
poem The Bard, while Gainsborough was more akin to The
Elegy.
The point of this remark so far as Gainsborough (1727–1788)
is concerned must be simply that he was distinctively the painter
of rural England. His love of nature was early shown. Before
he was twelve it was his delight to spend his mornings in the woods
of Suffolk sketching from streams, trees, cattle, sheep, and peas-
ants. From fourteen to eighteen he was in a London academy
studying portrait painting, but though he made that his business,
"landscape had his heart." “Madam Nature, not man, was his
sole study," says Thickesse speaking of later days at Ipswich. He
said himself that to be well-read in the volume of nature was all
the learning he wished. He rebelled against the doctrine of the
schools. He said that landscape could be studied only from
nature herself and felt with Hogarth that the canvas should
not be "thrust between the student and the sky-tradition
between him and God." So far as earlier artists influenced him
at all it was the Dutch and Flemish schools whose methods he
studied. He gave especial attention to Wynants and Ruysdael.
His earlier pictures show "close adherence to local scenery and
minute and careful finishing," as for instance the "young oak
painted leaf for leaf." Reynolds speaks of his "portrait like
representation" of nature, and adds: "If Gainsborough did
not look at nature with a poet's eye it must be acknowledged that
he saw her with the eye of a painter, and gave a faithful if not
a poetical representation of what he had before him." To this
1
236
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
..
view of the fidelity of Gainsborough's English landscapes all
agree, but the lack of poetry in his pictures is certainly denied
by one as well able to judge as Reynolds. Constable, one of the ·
best early English landscape painters said of Gainsborough's
landscapes; "They are soothing, tender, and affecting. The
stillness of noon, the depths of twilight, and the dews and pearls
of the morning are all to be found on the canvases of this most
benevolent and kind-hearted man. On looking at them we find
tears in our eyes, and know not what brings them. The lonely
haunts of the solitary shepherd, the return of the rustic with
his bill and bundle of wood,—the darksome lane or dell,-the
sweet little cottage girl at the spring with her pitcher, were the
things which he delighted to paint, and which he painted with
exquisite refinement, yet not a refinement beyond nature."
"He
was first," says Thornbury, "to show us that there was poetry in
English rustic life."
It seems fortunate for English landscape art that two men so
unlike in education, temperament, and taste as Wilson and
Gainsborough should have come at the formative period of that
art. One brought in the Dutch, the other the Italian influence,
yet each was too strong an individuality to be a mere copyist.
The one painted with poetic comprehension, and even with a
touch of sublimity, the sunny skies, clear air, bright lakes and
ruined temples of classic lands. The other painted with genuine
tenderness and affection the lovely scenes of rural England.
Both loved nature passionately, both strove to express this love in
their pictures. Whatever the imperfections of their work from
an artistic point of view, from the point of view of a growing
taste for nature the landscapes of these artists are of the greatest
importance. They show that shortly after the middle of the cen-
tury the new spirit had entered the realms of art as it had entered
other realms of thought and emotion. The transfer of interest
from man to nature is in many of the pictures of Wilson and
Gainsborough distinctly marked.
Contemporary with Wilson and Gainsborough were many
artists of less genius and subsequent fame, some of whom must
be mentioned here because they show the different phases taken
$
LANDSCAPE PAINTING
237
on by the growing love of nature. Of genre painters only those
need be mentioned who depicted rustic people in country sur-
roundings. Of these the chief are David Allan and George
Morland. David Allan's (1744-1796) best work is his set of
illustrations of The Gentle Shepherd. He went to the Pentland
Hills and studied both the places and the people he wished to
represent. "He visited," says Cunningham, "every hill, dale,
tree, stream, and cottage, which could be admitted into the land-
scape of the poet.
Glaid's farm house, the Monk's
burn, the Linn, the Washing Green, Habbie's How, New Hall
House, and that little breast-deep basin in the burn, called Peg-
gie's pool, were all carefully drawn." It was Allan's endeavor to
do in painting what Ramsay had done half a century before in
poetry, and though his pictures are far from expressing the
brightness and beauty of the poem, they fairly take rank as
important attempts to represent native landscapes from careful,
first-hand observation.
George Morland's (1764-1804) very early pictures were copies
from Dutch originals, mainly tavern interiors, but he afterwards
painted some admirable scenes from the Isle of Wight which he
loved to visit. In general his landscapes were of inland scenes
and of the most confined, homely sort. The "barn-yard, the
piggery, and the cow-house" were his favorite subjects. He
never idealized his rustics or their surroundings. His merit was
absolute fidelity to fact, and he made no poetic selection of the
facts to be represented. He was literally a copyist from nature.
His pictures of country life and scenery had the relentless
realism of Crabbe's poetry, and it is interesting to note that
Crabbe's Village came out in 1783, when Morland was painting
his most disagreeably truthful pictures of English country life.
Of the painters who after 1760 devoted themselves chiefly to
landscape we find a number who show an interest in the moun-
tainous regions of Wales and the Lake District similar to that
shown in Poetry, Fiction, and Travels. One of the most excel-
lent pictures of Joseph Wright of Derby (1734-1797) who was
reckoned almost equal in power to Wilson, was "The Head of
Ulleswater." Edward Dayes (1760-1804) also made many
*
238
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
*
studies of Keswick Lake, Windermere, and the neighboring
scenes. Mr. Gilpin in the Preface to his book on Cumberland
(pub. 1786) says that description seems useless since there are
prints so accurate and beautiful" as those of Mr. Farrington
representing Lodore, Skiddaw, Derwentwater, and other places.
That there were earlier studies we know from Amory's statement
in John Buncle that Cumberland scenery was far more beautiful
than Dr. Dalton's brother's drawings would seem to indicate.
Late in the century came William Havell (1782-1841), who began
to paint mountain scenes while still a mere boy. He studied im
Wales and then for two years in Westmoreland.
Of far greater
genius than any of these is Thomas Girtin (1775-1802) of whom
Ruskin says:
"He is often as impressive to me as nature her-
self; nor do I doubt that Turner owed more to his teaching and
companionship than to his own genius in the first years of his
life." Poynter says that Girtin was "the first who successfully
attempted to represent in water colors the grandeur and sublimity
of mountain scenery, and to imitate the bold contrasts of light
and shadow, of gloom and sunshine which occur in nature." He
made excursions into "the most paintable parts of England and
Wales, and even extending his excursions to. Scotland." He
painted views from Scotland, Wales, the Lake District and
Devonshire. John Crome (1769-1821), founder of the Norwich
School, and famous for his studies of foliage, is another of the
artists who studied nature in the Lake District.
The interest in wild scenery is largely confined to northern
England, but, as we have seen, Wales is not neglected. And
along with Girtin's studies of Scotland are George Barret's views
(1795) of Yorkshire and Loch Lomond. Another painter of
mountains is Charles Fox (1749-1809). He is interesting as the
first recorded artist to visit Norway, Sweden, and Russia, for the
purpose of representing the wild scenery of those countries. The
interest in mountains and lakes was so well established by the
end of the century that when Constable made a tour of Westmore-
land and found nothing to his mind but turned rather to culti-
vated scenery, his preference was counted something rather novel.
Other phases of interest in nature manifest themselves. The
LANDSCAPE PAINTING
239
་ ་
romantic interest in the remote combined with the interest in
nature shows in such pictures as those of South Sea Island scen-
ery by John Webber, who went with Cook on one of his voyages
(1780); or Thomas Hearne's water-color sketches of "the lovely
scenery of the West Indies" (1768-71); or Alexander's drawings
of Chinese scenery (1792-8); or the Russian scenes already noted,
by Fox, or the Italian scenes painted for Mr. Beckford by John
R. Cozens (1742-1799).
Among the artists who painted English scenes are some who
are noted for specific excellencies, as Francis Nicholson (1753-
1844) who studied especially waterfalls and rapid streams. Abra-
ham Pether (1756-1812) devoted himself so exclusively to moon-
light and evening that he was known as "moonlight Pether."
J. Ibbetson was highly praised in his own day for his truth to
English scenes. A critical review by "Anthony Pasquin" of the
pictures exhibited in 1795 speaks of Ibbetson in terms that show
what had at that time come to be recognized as some of the desira-
ble qualities in an excellent piece of landscape work, namely first-
hand observation, truth to such nature as the artist himself knew,
and individuality of presentation. "Anthony Pasquin" says,
"When many of our present race of landscape painters wish
to make a study, they do it by their firesides; they take an old
perished copy of Wynants, Ruysdael, or Hobbima, or a damaged
copy from some eminent artist, and compose by stealing a tree from
one, a dock-leaf from another, and a waterfall from a third. By
this means we have Flemish landscapes peopled with English
figures, and the same unvaried scenes served up ad infinitum.
Very different is the conduct of Mr. Ibbetson. His views are
taken from nature; and in his pictures we see our own country
as in a mirror, painted in a style peculiarly his own."
The landscape painters of the eighteenth century evinced lit-
tle interest in what Bakhuysen called "sea-scapes.” Though
several artists are marked as marine painters, a closer examination
shows in most cases that the pictures designated as marine corres-
pond well with Young's Sea Pieces. For instance, the forty pic-
tures ascribed to Dominic Serres (circa 1765) are all of naval
engagements in honor of English prowess, and done in his offi-
E
:
•
240
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
cial capacity as "Marine Painter to the King." An artist who
exhibited about 1770, John Cleveley, had been a dock-hand, and
he painted his sea-views con amore but without much technical
skill. Nicholas Pocock first exhibited in 1782. He had been
brought up at sea and did his first work as an artist while still
commanding a vessel. He devoted himself chiefly to naval
actions. A more gifted artist was Richard Wright of the Isle of
Man. In 1764 and 1766 he took the prizes offered by the Society
of Arts for the best marine pictures. "The Fishery," engraved
by Woollett, is his best known work. The great period of English
landscape art does not come till some years after 1798, the limit
of this study. But Turner was born in 1775, and Constable in
1776, so that they did much of their studying, and practically
fixed their ideals of work under such influences as the eighteenth
century brought.
In general we may note with regard to landscape painting
that from the beginning to the end of the century the pendulum
has taken its usual swing. It has traversed the arc from a pre-
dominating interest in man to a predominating interest in nature.
From having landscape as an unimportant background, man has
become an unimportant detail in landscape. But the love of
nature in art is later in its beginnings than in poetry, and comes
to its final maturity some years later than does the poetry. The
characteristic work of Coleridge, Scott, and Wordsworth was prac-
tically done before that of Constable, Turner, Copley Fielding,
and David Cox.
Claude,
The chief foreign influences were Dutch and Italian.
the Poussins, and Salvator Rosa were the artists most studied
The atmospheric effects, the wide landscapes, and the ruined
temples of Claude were especially attractive to the artists of the
time, and he was assiduously copied. On the whole, painting
was less original and freed itself more slowly from masters than
any other form in which the love of nature found expression.
The general phases of interest as shown in the painting are
similar to those in the poetry. The awakened curiosity of the
age finds expression in the many pictures of foreign scenes. The
delight in rustic life is well represented by Morland and Allan
LANDSCAPE PAINTING
241
on its homely realistic side, and by Gainsborough on its refined
side. There are frequent attempts to represent the evanescent
beauties of sunrise and sunset, of twilight, and moonlight. There
is much enthusiasm for wild scenery. No one characteristic of
the painting is more marked than its devotion to mountains and
lakes, especially those of northern England. There is a strong
personal delight in nature for her own sake, and sometimes not
merely a sensuous pleasure in color and form, but a deeper poetic
conception of the significance and power of nature.
:
CHAPTER VII.
GENERAL SUMMARY.
•
During the period from Waller to Pope the general feeling
towards nature was one of indifference. The whole emphasis
was on man in his higher social relations, and only
Feeling toward
nature in early such parts of nature as were easily subordinated to
18th century man were looked upon with pleasure. The facts
compared with of nature were little known. They were stated in
feeling in early terms merely imitative and conventional. The
19th century
new feeling towards nature, as exemplified in the
early nineteenth century poets, especially Wordsworth, on the
contrary, is marked by full and first-hand observation, by a
rich, sensuous delight in form, color, sound, and motion; by a
strong preference for the wilder, freer forms of nature's life, by
an enthusiasm for nature passionate in its intensity, by a recog-
nition of the divine life in nature, and finally by a consciousness
of the interpenetration of that life and the life of man. At the
beginning of the eighteenth century, in poetry, travels, fiction,
painting, and gardens, it was the classical feeling toward nature
that predominated. By the end of the century the new feeling
had found abundant, varied, and original statement. The change
is a great one. From Pope to Wordsworth, from Le Notre to
Repton, from Kneller to Turner, from Richardson to Mrs. Rad-
cliffe, from Brand to Gilpin, the pendulum swings. Whether
men painted pictures or made gardens, or went on journeys, or
told tales of love and adventure, or wrote poems, the new spirit
was at work within them, sending them forth into the world of
nature and bidding them bear witness to her power and love-
liness.
Early manifestations of the new spirit did not, however, find
exactly contemporaneous expression in these various art-forms.
242
GENERAL SUMMARY
243
4
Thomson's Seasons and Pope's Fourth Epistle are in 1726-31.
Gainsborough and Wilson do not bring out their work until
Thomas Amory's John Buncle is in
The dates of
development of
love of nature
forms
after 1755.
1756–66, and Brown's Keswick Letter comes within
the same period. Thus the decisive beginnings of
in different art the new spirit in painting, fiction, and travels are
about contemporary, but are thirty years behind
poetry and gardening. Furthermore, the time
between the decisive beginnings and the final full expression is
greatly varied. In poetry it is seventy-three years, in gardening
about sixty-five, in painting about fifty, in fiction not over
twenty-five, and in travels only about fifteen years.
development
In spite of these variations in date there seems to be in each
art the same general order of development. First there is a dim
period of tentative, unconscious, or apologetic
General order of:
indications of a new spirit. Then some original
mind seizes upon the new idea and gives it con-
sistency and at least partially adequate expression. After this
there follows a period of less vigorous but widespread and varied
efforts to find a statement for some portions of the new thought.
Then a master mind seems to feel all these diffused, struggling,
half-expressed conceptions and sums them up in the final perfect
form. In the poetry of nature these stages are clearly marked in
the work before Thomson, in Thomson, in the period from
Thomson to Wordsworth, and in Wordsworth. In painting are
Wilson and Gainsborough on the one hand and Turner on the
other. In gardening, travels, and fiction we find the periods
marked respectively by Kent and Repton, Brown and Gilpin,
Amory and Mrs. Radcliffe. In these three art-forms, especially
in the last two, we do not find the period of development ending
in the work of consummate genius. We go rather from a meager
statement to a statement that is full, many-sided, enthusiastic.
The progress is in the love of nature rather than in the power of
adequate, final expression. The development in gardening is
more in the nature of a series of experiments open to wide dis-
cussion, and the final outcome takes the form given it by the
man whose study of past failures and successes has led him to
?
244 TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
7
the surest comprehension of the artistic and mechanical laws
involved. A glance at the accompanying table will make the
general statement clear, the main point being that in at least five
of the ways in which men express their ideas it is possible to
trace the growth of a complete change of attitude towards nature.
The poets who helped to bring about this change have already.
been studied in detail, but some further general statements may
not be out of place here.
As a rule, such significant poetry of nature as appeared during
the transition period was the work of men who had spent much
of their youth in the country or in country villages;
During the tran-it was practically their earliest poetic venture, and
sition period the
significant poe-
usually the work of their youth; and, in most cases
try of nature where there was an extended literary career, the
the early work poetry of nature speedily gave way to work of a
of men brought didactic or dramatic sort, in which nature played
up in the country but a small part. To any such general statement
there would be of course important exceptions. Blake, for
instance, was a town-bred poet. So was Collins, and his Ode to
Evening is not his earliest work. Cowper was town-bred. He
was old when he began to write, and his poetry of nature is his
latest rather than his earliest work. But, taken as a whole, the
poetry of nature during the eighteenth century bears out the
statement as made. It is well illustrated by Armstrong, who was
born and who apparently spent his youth in Castleton, a little
village in the wildest part of the mountainous country around
the Derbyshire peaks, wrote his Winter before he was fifteen, went
to Edinburgh and then to London to study, and wrote as the work
of his mature years a didactic poem on the Art of Preserving
Health. Or by Dyer, who was brought up in South Wales, wrote
Grongar Hill and The Country Walk at twenty-five, went up to
London, and wrote as his mature work The Ruins of Rome and
The Fleece. Or by Thomson, who lived until he was fifteen in
Southdean, a little hamlet at the foot of the Cheviot Hills, the
last of whose Seasons appeared when he was thirty and whose
later work was a succession of dreary tragedies. Or by Aken-
side, who, though brought up in Newcastle-on-Tyne, made

1700
1705
1710
17/5
1730
Poetry Gardening Painting Travels Fiction
1725
Thomson's
Seasons
Pope's
Epistle
1730
1700
1704*
+1710
1715
1720
17.25™
+1130
1736-
1735
1740
1740.
1143".
1750-
1755
1745
1750
Wilson!
Brown
Ainory
+753-
1760
1760+
-1765-
1765+
1770-
1775+
Gilkin
1700+
1765+
1790
1795+

Hodworth's
Lyrical Ballads

Repton

Плачны

1770
+1775-
+1780
+1785°
Mrs Radeliffe

-1790
·1795″
+1500
GENERAL SUMMARY
245
༤-
frequent visits to the country during his youth, wrote The
Pleasures of the Imagination at seventeen during one of these
visits, and in his after life wrote much prose and poetry in which
there is no hint of the early enthusiasm. Allan Ramsay lived in
a secluded spot among the Pentland Hills until he was fifteen,
and his earliest important poem, The Gentle Shepherd, is really a
memory picture. William Pattison spent his youth at Appleby,
a village on the Eden, in Westmoreland, where he wrote his
earliest poems. Mickle spent his youth at Langholme on the
Esk, and his first important poem, Pollio, written at eighteen, was
in memory of his life there. Bruce was brought up at Kinnes-
wood, a village on Lochleven, and his early poetry had much
to do with the scenery about that place. Beattie spent his youth
at Lawrencekirk, and Fordoun on the east coast of Scotland,
and The Minstrel, his first important poem, is a record of his
early life.
It would certainly be a mis-reading of these facts to
infer that to write well of nature the poet must have been
brought up in the country. Genius has the rare gift of seeing
a very little and straightway knowing a great deal. It would be
equally wrong to infer that poets write of nature when they are
young and give it up when they put away childish things. The
import of these facts in this period seems to be merely that
there was a genuine and widespread love of nature on the part of
many isolated poets, who, by the circumstances of their lives, knew
nature better than they did literature, but that this love was not
sufficiently robust in individual cases to withstand the cramping
influences of city life and literary coteries. The developing tra-
dition was carried on not so much by the persistent influence of
a few as by the constant springing up of the same spirit in many
minds.
Self-conscious
statements
In a transition period the predominant spirit is self-conscious,
authoritative, and full of maxims drawn from its own successes.
The new spirit comes in, as it were, by chance. It
is but slightly theoretic, following instinct rather
than well-defined principles. In its first stages it
is apologetic rather than aggressive. These characteristics, on
the whole, mark the love of nature in the early eighteenth cen-
246
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
,
tury poetry. There are, however, occasional indications that some
poets, at least, not only wrote according to new canons of taste,
but were distinctly conscious of their revolt from the old. So
early as 1709 Ambrose Philips in the Preface to his Pastorals
justified his choice of country themes by pointing out the pleas-
ing effect of natural scenes on the mind. John Gay's enuncia-
tion of a creed, though meant as a satire, was so just a condemna-
tion of existing poetic conventions, and so apt a prophecy of
one phase of the new spirit that it really deserves to rank among
revolutionary statements of theory. Allan Ramsay's Preface to
The Evergreens is equally emphatic in its scorn of classical limi-
tations, and it was meant in downright earnest. The thought of
the Preface finds expression several times in his poems as well.
Dyer gives utterance to a similar scorn of Parnassus in The
Country Walk. Shenstone, in his Prefatory Essay on Elegy,
shows a timid but perfectly clear recognition of the fact that he
is breaking away from poetical canons. Mason in the Preface
to Elfrida says that he has introduced descriptions with a pur-
pose of rendering the drama more pleasing. Whitehead's Enthu-
siast with its elaborate statement of both sides of the case in man
versus nature is an important indication of the clearness with
which the points of the controversy were at that time recognized.
The strongest and most detailed statement of a creed came about
four years later in Joseph Warton's Essay on Pope (1756). Noth-
ing else so clear, direct, and full appeared before the Prefaces of
Wordsworth. After Warton it is not so necessary to indicate all
self-conscious statements. It will suffice briefly to indicate
Langhorne's statement of his purpose in writing, Goldsmith's
vigorous attacks on falseness and affectation in poetry, Beattie's
Wordsworthian Preface to The Minstrel, John Scott's criticism on
existing poetry and his statement of his own aim in the Preface
to his Amabæan Eclogues, Crabbe's expressed determination to
treat of nature as it really is, Cowper's pleasure in the fact that
his knowledge and inspiration come straight from nature and his
persistent reiteration of his belief in the superiority of the country
over the city, and finally Burns's many critical remarks on the
essential qualities of descriptive poetry.
GENERAL SUMMARY
247
}
Wordsworth
The
The characteristics of the poetry of nature that was growing
up during the eighteenth century have been already indicated in
one way and another, but it seems necessary here
the best repre-
to gather them up into general statements.
sentative of the easiest and clearest way will be to make a some-
new feeling what detailed summary of such traits of this poetry
towards
as seem to foreshadow the later treatment of nature,
nature
especially as exemplified in Wordsworth. In the
comparison I keep mainly to Wordsworth both for the sake of
simplicity, and because, though in romantic periods each poet
works out his own salvation along original and self-determined
lines, yet Wordsworth more nearly than any other poet expresses
the variety and complexity of interest in the new feeling towards
nature.
Wordsworth said that a part of his endowment as a poet was
a peculiar openness to sense impressions, and that this endow-
ment was cultivated by his environment in youth
Variety and
until the real facts of nature were reported to him
extent of
knowledge of with fullness and accuracy. In his wholesale con-
nature during demnation of the period between Paradise Lost and
the transition
The Seasons the chief count in the indictment is the
period
absence of new images drawn from nature. Full,
accurate, first-hand knowledge of nature is then with Words-
worth a sine qua non, a basis on which interpretation must
rest. During the eighteenth century no one man had Words-
worth's inevitable ear or practiced eye, but the whole
impression made is that men were at last out of doors, looking
and listening for themselves. Each man sees many facts not
before noted, and collectively the poetry of the period presents a
great body of natural phenomena of all sorts. Poets, artists,
travelers, writers of fiction, unite to swell the stock of facts about
the external world. Dorothy Wordsworth's Journals show with
what delight she and her brother dwelt upon the baldest state-
ment of the actual facts of nature. Gray in his Letters, John
Scott in his Eclogues, show this same pleasure in simply cata-
loguing the lovely facts of the outdoor world. Lady Winch elsea,
Gay, Thomson, Dyer, Cowper, Burns, all the landscape painters.
248
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
from Wilson to Girtin, Mrs. Smith and Mrs. Radcliffe, but are
leaders of the many who were striving to make report of what
they found in waters and skies, in field, mountain, and plain.
The wide range of these facts is astonishing. The knowledge of
the poet is no longer confined to parks and gardens, to the mild.
and lovely aspects of nature. His aroused curiosity pushes him.
out into new realms of inquiry. All kinds of nature, animate and
inanimate, wild and tame, remote and close at hand, attract
interested attention.
Accuracy and
delicacy of
observation
The mere mass and variety of this accumulated knowledge is
sufficiently significant in its bearing on the development of a new
taste for nature, but a further general question
arises as to the accuracy and delicacy of the obser-
vation. There certainly was none of the scientific
spirit that would feel the charm of bare exactness,
and there was hardly any of Wordsworth's feeling that to misrep-
resent a fact of nature would be sacrilege. Facts were, indeed,
often noted in a loose, careless way, as if of slight importance. But
taken as a whole the observation bears the mark of the eye on
the object. From Lady Winchelsea to Bowles every poet who has
been esteemed noteworthy in the study of nature gives the
impression that he speaks from personal knowledge, and no
poetry can make that impression unless it is in its main lines true.
Delicacy of observation is another matter.
•
What the eighteenth century poets did was to give truthful
expression to very many natural facts of a kind fairly obvious to an
age well versed in the lore of field and wood; but new to an
age just emerged from the gates of a park. It is observation of
this abundant, truthful, obvious sort that we find in Ambrose
Philips, Gay, Ramsay, Shenstone, John Scott, and largely this
even in Thomson. The commonest facts of nature, the blue sky,
wild flowers on a rocky ledge, rough little streams, were a wonder
and a delight. Discrimination comes after general and obvious
facts have been accepted and assimilated. It is inevitable,
even setting aside their different temperaments, that Cowper
should have more of it than Thomson. The strange thing is that
in the early stages of the poetry of nature we should find any
་
GENERAL SUMMARY
249
observation so close and delicate as that in the study of night by
Lady Winchelsea, of burns and mountain pools by Allan Ram-
say, of winter skies and ice burdened streams by Armstrong; or
as that in Thomson's sunset after rain, Dyer's wide views and
homely bits of country life, Collins's evening, Gray's sky-lark and
song-thrush, Thomas Warton's opening spring, Logan's cuckoo,
and Scott's trees.
The fullness and accuracy of the eighteenth century study of
nature may be further seen by a brief analysis of the sense impres-
sions most frequently noted.
Wordsworth is said to have been physically deficient in the
sense of smell, hence the noticeable absence of odors in his poems
Odors
may be accounted for. But it is doubtless true of
all poetry that fragrances are more scantily recorded
than are other facts, and there is seldom much closeness of obser-
vation so as to discriminate between various sorts of sweet odors.
For this reason such slight study of odors as we find in the tran-
sition poetry is the more to be dwelt upon. There are certainly
not infrequent observations showing close knowledge. J. Philips
notes the faint sweetness of cowslips; Relph speaks of the odor
of the “fresh prumrose on the furst of May;" Dyer and Shenstone
of the fragrance of brakes; Dyer of sweet-smelling honeysuckles;
Shenstone, Thomas Warton, and Cowper of the fragrant wood-
bine; J. Philips and Mickle of scented orchards; Cowper calls
attention to the odor of limes and the fresh smell of turf; Lady
Winchelsea speaks of the "aromatic pain" from the odor of a
jonquil, the "potent fragrance" of which is recognized also by
Thomson. Two odors frequently mentioned are of "the perfum-
ing flowery bean" celebrated first by John Philips, then by Gay,
Thomson, Savage, Shenstone, and Joseph Warton; and the frag-
rance of hay noted by Thomson, Gay, Ramsay, Savage, Potter,
Relph, Thomas Warton, and Mickle. When homely, unusual
odors, like that of the bean, are noticed there is often exceptional
vividness of statement. What took rank in the poet's mind as
his own discovery brought out a natural freshness of phrase.
One other fact frequently noted is that odors are strongest at
morning or evening or after a rain. These specific references
250
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
are of real importance in showing new powers of perception, but
it must be admitted that in general the use of odors was of the
conventional sort, referring rather vaguely to sweet breezes.
blowing over flowery fields.
Sounds
Sounds from
water
66
The sensitiveness to sound so often remarked in Wordsworth's
poems is a characteristic of the poetry of nature throughout the
century before Wordsworth. The music of nature
was a source of widespread delight. The "pleasant
noise of waters," for instance, receives some notice
from nearly every poet in the list, while in travels
and fiction some of the most effective passages are on the sounds
of rapid streams and waterfalls. In poetry the old words "warb-
ling,” “tinkling," and "murmuring," are still much used, but
Ramsay's rill that "makes a singin din," Thomson's roused-up
river that "thunders" through the rocks, Mallet's river with its
"sounding sweep," Collins's "brawling springs," and Cowper's
chiming rills" are a few of the phrases that mark
a more individual and personal way of listening
One of Wordsworth's often quoted lines on sound
has to do with the greater distinctness of the song
of mountain streams by night. Mr. Heard gives this passage as
an instance of Wordsworth's peculiarly close observation. But
the clearness with which falling or running water is heard at night
had been noted at least six times in the literature before Words-
worth. Lady Winchelsea mentioned it in her Revery. Beattie
speaks of waterfalls heard from afar amid the lonely night, and
again of the quiet evening when naught but the torrent is heard
on the hill. The lines in John Brown's Rhapsody have already
been quoted, as also his Letter in which he notes the variety of
sounds from distant waterfalls as one of the attractions of a walk
at night. And Gray also speaks of the murmur of many water-
falls not audible in the day time. Several other authors as Dyer
and Mallet have practically the same idea when they mention the
unusual clearness of the sound of falling water in a breathless
noon, or in the depths of a silent forest.
The sounds made by winds are also often and particularly
noted. They sigh through reeds, they make a remote and hollow
GENERAL SUMMARY
251
Sounds from
winds
66
noise in "wintery pines," they murmur through the poplars,
they rustle lightly over deep embattled ears of corn," they join
in concert with woods and waters, or they sweep
in mighty harmonies through ancient forests.
The whispering breezes, and dying gales of the
classical poetry do not often occur. Brown in his
Letter shows how deeply he was impressed by the roaring of the
winds through the mountains, and the one passage in which Dr.
Johnson showed any appreciation of wild nature is a description
of the combined sounds of streams and wind on a stormy night
in Scotland. A characteristic passage is Thomson's fine descrip-
tion of thunder among the mountains. Wordsworth, from the
peculiar delicacy of his perceptions and perhaps from his con-
templative nature, was deeply sensitive to the silences in the world
about him. There is some though but little indication of a
similar pleasure in preceding poetry. One of the best passages
is Thomson's description of the boding silence before a storm.
This has, however, much less of the real Wordsworthian spirit
than has Brown's conception of the silence that spoke from the
starry vault, the shadowy cliffs, the motionless goves, and the
faint mirror of the placid lake.
Songs of
birds
Of sounds from animate nature the emphasis is of course on
birds. But the feathered choir of the classical period has been
resolved into distinct species, each with a voice of
its own. The nightingale is not supplanted but
she is no longer a monopolist in the realms of the
muses. In this transition poetry the cuckoo takes
"the
an interesting place. Wordsworth's address to the bird as
darling of the spring" gives the association of ideas found in
most of the early poems. The cuckoo is the harbinger of spring.
Armstrong and A. Philips have the loud note of the cuckoo as
one of the first hints of the opening year, and Thomson's sym-
phony of spring is introduced by "the first note the hollow
cuckoo sings." Mendez says it is "the cuckoo that announceth
spring," and Gray speaks of the cuckoo's note as part of the
untaught harmony of spring." The peculiarity of the cuckoo's
note is also often mentioned. Other birds have many notes,
66
1
252
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
says John Cunningham, "the cuckoo has but two." Logan, as
Wordsworth after him, records the fact that the bird is usually
unseen, and both speak of the schoolboy's surprise as the strange
cry falls on his ear. The lark, the nightingale, and the linnet
are frequently mentioned, but usually in terms somewhat conven-
tional. They had been in poetry so long that a distinct effort
would have been needed to think of them under new phrases.
To be released from the captivity of a stock diction and conven-
tional sentiment they waited for Shelley and Keats and Words-
worth. It is in observations on birds not counted poetical
property that we find fresh and exact expression. A mark of the
new spirit is the pleasure in such sounds as the call of the curlew,
the boom of the bittern, the chattering of magpies, the caw of
rooks, the piping of quails, the scream of jays, the clang of sea-
mews, the shrill clamor of cranes, the shriek of the gull, the
whistle of plovers, the whir of the partridge. To hear such
sounds the poet must wander over moors, by sedgy lakes, along
rough shores, far enough from trim parks. To bring such sounds
into poetry marked a great revolution in taste from the days of
the lorn nightingale and the plaintive turtle.
As a whole we may
say that the treatment of sound in eighteenth century poetry is
abundant, accurate, and often very effective.
Color
The process of passing from general to specific statements
as a result of increased knowledge shows itself again in the use
of color. The universal paint of the classical
school has been resolved into some of its con-
stituent elements. These are not many, however,
and there is not much nice discrimination into
shades and tints. The colors most often observed are green,
blue, yellow or gold, purple, red or crimson, and brown, the
order given being the order of their frequency. Purple is used
less frequently than in the classical poetry and usually has some
real artistic significance. Yellow, a comparatively new word, is
used often of harvests, of trees in autumn, of moonlight, and of
various sunlight effects. Dyer gave early prominence to the
word as an epithet applied to nature. Brown is applied in some-
what the conventional manner to streams and shadows. Thomson,
1
GENERAL SUMMARY
253
:
Dyer, Savage, and Cowper made the most effective use of color,
and it is important to observe that their advance consisted not
so much in seeing many more colors than had been seen before,
as in discovering color in many more objects than formerly.
They did not merely see that "all above is blue and all below is
green." They saw the blue heavens, but they saw, too, the blue
of "sky dyed plumbs," of mists, of distant hills, of streams and
bays, of ice-films, of the halcyon's wing, of curling smoke, of the
lightning flash. The endive, the lavender, the lilac, the violet,
the harebell, the heath-flower, are singled out as blue. And Dyer
speaks of the blue color of the poplars, and Dalton of blue slate
roofs. Not merely the general green of a summer landscape is
commented upon, but there are closer observations concerning
the varying shades of green as the trees are massed together.
The russet tints brought out in green tree tops at sunset, the
funereal green of yews, the yellow-green in a sunset sky, the
yellow tinge in green grass almost ready for the scythe, the glossy
green of the holly, the deep green of box, the contrasting green
of elm, oak, and maple, are some typical observations.
The use of color, however, seems, on the whole, in spite of its
abundance and picturesqueness, hardly so varied and individual
as the use of sound.
A division into colors and sounds leaves many sorts of obser-
vation unnoted, and frequently these are of great importance as
indicating close knowledge; but they have been so often com-
mented upon in the study from author to author that even a
suggestive recapitulation is hardly needed here. Enough has
been called to mind to show that there was much knowledge of
the external world, and that much of this knowledge was reported
in words so direct and truthful that they must have come from
personal experience.
In the classical period we have seen that only the milder
forms of nature were cared for. Wordsworth was, on the other
hand, essentially the poet of mountains, lakes, and streams. It
will be of interest to note the attitude of the transition poetry
toward the various kinds of nature. And first we may sum up
the evidences of mountain enthusiasm.
254
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
Mountains
In the first fifty years of the century we have only the
expressions of pleasure in climbing mountains or hills by J.
Philips, Gay, and Dyer; the various descriptive
references in Ramsay and in Mallet; and Paul
Sandby's sketches in the Highlands. Ramsay and
Mallet show a consciousness of mountains, and evidently regard
them as noticeable and picturesque elements of a scene, and
Dyer is of distinct importance because of his lingering pleasure
in the beautiful views opening up before him as he climbs the
mountain, and especially because of his poetic comprehension of
mountain solitudes. But it is during the next twenty-five years
that we find the most adequate eighteenth century treatment of
mountains. During this period Brown, Pennant, Young, Gray,
and Gilpin visited Scotland, Wales and the English Lakes, and
wrote of mountains with an enthusiasm hardly equaled in the
succeeding century. In fiction were Amory's eulogy of West-
moreland, and his exaggerated pictures of Cumberland, and
Smollett's description of the country round Loch Leven. In
painting, Dalton, Sandby, Butts, and Wright were studying
mountain scenery in northern England, Wales, and Ireland. In
poetry we have Coventry's address to Vaughan on mountain
climbing; Dalton's apostrophe to Skiddaw; Brown's rhapsody
on the mountains and lakes of Westmoreland; the mountain
scenery in Gray's Bard and the poems of Ossian; the many
descriptive references in Dyer's Fleece, Jago's Edge Hill, Mickle's
Almada Hill and May Day, and Scott's Amwell; and Beattie's
study of the influence of mountains on a poetic mind. During
the last twenty-five years of the century there is, in poetry, a
The most
curious apparent cessation of mountain interest.
highly poetic minds, Blake, Cowper, and Burns, have none of it.
Crabbe does not touch upon mountains. Lesser poets, except
Bowles at the very end of the century, are equally silent. This is
not, however, true of fiction, travels, and painting. During this
period Fox is studying mountain scenery in Russia; Farrington,
Dayes, Crome, Havell, and Girtin are in the Lake District; .
Havell and Girtin also travel in Wales for purposes of study;
and Barret is in Scotland. Mountain scenery is a large element
GENERAL SUMMARY
255
?
in Mrs. Radcliffe's Romances. And there is a band of travelers
going over the country already described. Thus the interest in
mountains, practically dropped in poetry, was carried on in
romances, accounts of travel, and pictures, until in the next
century it reached its highest expression in Wordsworth.
mountains.
Many lovers of nature and of poetry have commented with
surprise on the slow development of the poetic appreciation of
It is, perhaps, even more strange that
The ocean English poetry should have been still slower in its
discovery of the ocean. It is as if English poets
from Dryden to Byron had all lived inland. Even in Words-
worth, in spite of some wonderful lines, there is no treatment of
the ocean at all comparable to his study of mountains. In the
classical age the ocean was a dreary waste. In the transition
poetry we do not find much more knowledge or appreciation.
The one quality of the ocean that receives anything like adequate
expression is its boundlessness. Characteristic lines are by John
G. Cooper.
“In unconfined perspective send thy gaze
Disdaining limit o'er the green expanse
Of ocean.'
Armstrong says that the "floating wilderness”
"Scorns our miles and calls Geography
A shallow prier."
Mickle looks upon the awful solitude of ocean and his imagi-
nation is stirred by
"the last dim wave in boundless space
Involved and lost."
These are the best lines I have found. The chief expressions
of pleasure in the ocean are Gay's mild delight in a sunset across
the sea, and subsequent moonlight effects, and Beattie's pleasing
dread as he seeks the shore to listen to the wide-weltering waves.
We find in Cowper's letters a more appreciative passage on the
ocean than occurs in any of the poetry. The most sincere ocean
enthusiasm is in Mrs. Radcliffe's Romances. Travelers, even
those who went along the coast of Wales and among the Scottish
256
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
The ocean
When the
Islands or to the Isle of Wight, say little of the sea.
was, in fact, much such a burden as Sterne's plain.
poet had once said that it was big and awful his stock of impres-
sions was exhausted. In painting, the ocean was not entirely
ignored, but in this province, too, there was meagerness of con-
ception and expression. The ocean waited for Turner and
Byron and Shelley.
Wide views
One of the interesting characteristics of the love of nature in
the eighteenth century is a delight in wide views. What had in
the classical period "tired the travelling eye," with
the dawning of the new spirit gave satisfaction. It
was in accord with the mental revolt against close
boundaries of any sort. From the day when John Philips
ventured to express some pleasure in the view from a hill, and
Gay climbed Cotton Hill to raise his mind nearer heaven, and
Dyer spent days in studying with an artist's eye the colors and
forms of the view from Grongar Hill, to the time when Beattie
eagerly climbed the rugged steeps of Scottish mountains so that
he might see the morning mists rolling and tumbling over the
rough hills beneath him, do we find this pronounced delight in
wide views. Even poets who show no great love for mountains,
as Thomson, Mallet, Collins, the Wartons, Langhorne, Mickle,
and John Scott, and even poets of confessedly tame scenery as
Cowper, love "green heights" and extended prospects. To the
expression, of this feeling Amory and Mrs. Radcliffe, Brown,
Young, and Pennant make large contributions. This feeling
shows itself also in gardening. The cutting down of tall hedges,
the opening up of vistas, were a result of the change of taste and
a contribution to it. With this development of the new spirit the
artists, and Gilpin, working as he did from the artist's point of view,
had little to do. Wide views seemed to be outside their province.
We have seen that during the classical poetry the skies in
favor were cloudless and that of all sky phenomena the rainbow
excited most attention. In the transition poetry
we find much of this love of fair summer skies
and expressed sometimes with a new freshness
as when Dyer wishes nothing above his head but "the roof
The sky
1
GENERAL SUMMARY
257
1
on which the gods do tread," or when Ramsay looks with joy
upon "the lift's unclouded blue," or when the clear gladness of
heaven shines down from the lovely skies of Blake. But on the
whole, references to the serene day-time sky are conventional.
It is another illustration of the fact that such aspects of nature
as were already known and had come to be spoken of after a set
fashion were slow to be emancipated into a new phraseology.
Better work is done. in describing what Coleridge calls the
"goings-on" of the sky. Thomson knew the sky in all its phases.
Parnell describes well the airy tumult of clouds after a storm.
Mallet has one or two rather effective studies of a stormy sky.
One of Beattie's best descriptions is of a shifting cloudy sky
on a windy autumn day, and he has other effective cloud studies.
But taken in the mass the material is scanty and not of great
value. It was Wordsworth and Shelley who first gave adequate
expression to the mysterious and varied charm of the day-time
sky.
Night
The love of the night sky and of night itself is first found in
Lady Winchelsea, and for close observation and delicate feeling
there is nothing better throughout the century.
There is, however, much use of night, moonlight,
and stars in a new and appreciative fashion. In
Gay's Dione there are several attractive little moon-
light pictures. Parnell was impressed by the depth, the serenity
and the silence of a starry sky on a clear night. Coventry observes
how fast the moon travels through light clouds as if bent on a
journey, while in clear weather she sits steady empress of the
skies. Joseph Warton notes the shining of hills and streams
under the light of a full moon. Mickle has some beautiful lines
on both moon and stars as they rise from behind certain favorite
hills. He walks much at night and loves to watch the trembling
line of light from the moon as it shines across the lake, or the
soft effect of the yellow moonlight sleeping on the hills. Beattie
stays out all night to watch the aspects of the sky till the dawn of
day. Morning and evening twilight are less often spoken of.
There is certainly nothing else in the century to compare with
Collins's Evening. Sunset and sunrise are often described, but
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nowhere with more general effectiveness than in Thomson, or
with more minute color study than in Savage.
Storms
Closely connected with the knowledge of the sky is the new
feeling towards storms. In the classical poetry they had been
ignored or used as similes for disaster. But one of
the first evidences of a new spirit was in the appre-
ciative description of winter storms, as in Riccal-
toun, Armstrong, and Thomson. The early descrip-
tions and the multiplicity of storms in Thomson and Mallet give at
first the impression that this element held a larger place in poetry
than it really did. Ramsay has some good lines on winter storms.
There is an admirable stanza in Collins's Ode to Liberty, and
another in Thomas Warton's Grave of King Arthur. In Beattie's
Minstrel, and in several of Burns's poems there are expressions of
delight in the fierce play of the elements, but that exhausts the
list of notable passages.
It is only in Beattie that we find any
of the modern sense of kinship between the tumult of life and
nature's fierce conflicts, and the imaginative force of a passage
like that in The Excursion where the Wanderer longs to be a
spirit and so mingle with primal energies in their mightiest activ-
ities, or the lyric passion of a cry like that in Shelley's apostrophe
to the West Wind, are not even hinted at.
The most pronounced change came with reference to these
grander, wilder aspects of nature. We have still to note the
treatment of the gentle pleasant things of nature as birds, flowers,
trees.
Flowers
There was, through the classical period, abundant delight, in
a general way, in meadows bursting into bloom, and in bright
flowers in the garden. The use of the words
"flowery," "adorned," "decked," "enameled," etc.,
usually had reference to fields of flowers thought of
in a vague, pleasant way. The changes that come
during the transition poetry are a resolving of the general into
the specific, a concentration of attention on English flowers, and
a greatly increased knowledge of individual flowers.
The rose
and the lily often give place to homely flowers as the blossoms
of peas and beans, the bramble rose, butter flowers, clover, heath-
GENERAL SUMMARY
259
bells, crowfoot, the tangled vetch, the mandrake, the thistle. The
increased minuteness of observation shows itself in such studies of
garden flowers as we find in Thomson and Cowper. A feeling of
personal relationship towards flowers finds its highest and sweet-
est expression in Burns's Daisy.
Trees
In the classical poetry trees in general are an important part
of the stock in trade. The new feeling shows itself in a growing
tendency to think of trees as individuals. In a
landscape trees are mentioned by name. The thin
leav'd ash, whispering poplars, the glossy rind'd
beech, venerable oaks tossing giant arms, waving
elms, quivering aspens, murmuring pines, hoary willows, syca-
mores green, tawny, or scarlet, according to the season, white-
blossomed hawthorn, deep green hollies, elders with silver
blossoms, stand out from the mass and are known for their own
qualities. Minute observation is indicated by the descriptive
phrases used. The color of the trunk, the spread of the branches,
the changing hue of the leaves, the kind of blossoms, are severally
noted. Two special studies of trees are by Lady Winchelsea and
Dr. Dalton, and are of early date. Dyer and Cowper give the
best studies of trees seen in a mass, and yet individually noted.
While there is not a touch of the deep forest in this poetry, there
are many lines describing woodland effects. Thomson, Potter,
and Cowper find especial pleasure in the lovely interplay of light
and shade in a pathway overhung by woven branches. The brown
shadows and the softened light in a deeply wooded nook are
observed. Gentle streams sing happily under a cooling covert of
green boughs. The quiet of the woods is broken only by the
plash of waters, the rustle of boughs, the whisper of leaves, the
hum of insects, the song of birds, sounds from distant flocks and
herds, or the stroke of the woodman's axe. Trees also form an
important part of every general landscape. But no poet has
given so much of the real forest feeling as Mrs. Radcliffe. Of
travelers Young has most to say about trees but his observations
are largely scientific and utilitarian. On the whole we may say
that trees are given abundant and discriminating, attention, but
that this attention seldom penetrates beyond external, artistic
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qualities. Personal friendship for trees such as we find in Lowell,
for instance, has hardly yet reached expression.
Birds
Birds have already been discussed under sound, but it remains
here to state that the habits of birds, their manner of flight, their
nests, the trees they choose, their ways of protect-
ing their young, were all topics on which much was
known. Of minor poets, the best who knew birds
well, are Jago, Potter, and Bruce. Gray adds some perfect
touches. Best of all for accurate description and real under-
standing are Thomson, Cowper, and Burns. The prominent place
of the cuckoo has already been spoken of. The red-breast and
the thrush with "speckly breast" rank not far behind in interest.
The red-breast found early honor in Armstrong's Winter, and then
in Thomson's, and is one of the pleasing elements in Cowper's
Winter Walk. On the whole, birds of the lakes and streams
seem to be better known than birds of the tree and copse.
Recognition of
the rights
of animals
One phase of the literary treatment of birds is a recognition
of their rights as free, living beings. This feeling, not towards
birds alone but towards all animals, is one of the
marks of the new spirit. There is even in Lady
Winchelsea's Revery a slight hint of the conception
that animals would not suffer if man had not proved
himself a tyrant, and Gay carries out the same thought in one
of his Fables. Thomson's protests against killing animals for
food are the first strong statements of the new feeling. Shen-
stone, in Rural Elegance and The Dying Kid, shows some sympa-
thetic regard for animals. Jago and Potter and Langhorne pro-
tested vigorously against cruelty to birds. Beattie had the strong-
est possible dislike towards so-called English sports. The feel-
ing of close fellowship and almost human love towards animals,
so marked in Wordsworth and Coleridge, did not find expression
in the transition poetry until Burns and Cowper gave it full
statement.
Throughout the poetry of the eighteenth century we have
observed a turning from the general to the specific. There is
likewise a similar tendency to localization. The classical poetry
of nature belonged to no special spot, hardly to any special
GENERAL SUMMARY
261
Localization
country. The poetry of Wordsworth and of Walter Scott was,
on the other hand, eminently local. They celebrated the mount-
ains and islands and streams of the region they
knew. Wordsworth complained that before his day
no one had sung of British mountains. It is inter-
esting to note the growth of this passion for certain spots defi-
nitely pointed out and named, certain natural scenes known and
loved as a person might be. A brief survey of the mountains
and streams thus celebrated in eighteenth century poetry will
serve as illustrative. After Dyer's Grongar Hill come other moun-
tains of Wales. The hoary heights of huge Plynlymmon; the
wide, aërial side of Cader-ydris; the craggy summits of cold
Snowdon, king of mountains; Clyder's cloud enveloped head ;
Caer-caraduc and others are spoken of with evident pleasure and
not a little artistic perception. In Scotland the Hills of Chev-
iot, the Pentland Hills, the mountains in the Ossian country, and
those around Lochleven, are chief. In England we have the scarry
side of Braids, Dafset's ridgy mountain, Edge-Hill, Almada Hill,
Derwent's naked peaks, huge Breaden, blue-topp'd Wrekin,
giant Skiddaw, the solemn wall of Malvern, the Cambrian Hills, the
Hills of Ilmington, and others. The spirit of localization in its
application to mountains does not often go beyond calling the
mountain by its own name, and using some phrase showing that
this mountain is known as separate from the general mass.
its application to streams the feeling is more detailed in expres-
sion. Ramsay's streams and pools are closely localized. Dyer
celebrates not only Towy's flood, but the Vaga, the Ryddal, the
Iftwith, the Clevedoc, the Lune, and especially the Usk. Dr.
Dalton traces the course of the Borrowdale Beck from Lodore
Falls to the lake. Langhorne follows the track of the Bela
through solitary meads, and then through the rough realms of
Stainmore. He also celebrates his joy as a child in the river
Eden. Smollett, on his sick bed, writes an ode to Leven Water.
Bruce sings of the Po, the Queech, the Severn, and especially of
his youthful delight in the Gairney. Mickle writes of the Forth,
the Annan, the Ewes, and the Wauchope, but dwells with most
zest on his early love of the Esk. Of peculiar interest is Aken-
In
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TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
side's apostrophe to the Wansbeck. Hamilton, Langhorne and
Logan wrote of the Yarrow, Cowper of the Ouse, Burns of the
Ayr, the Doon, the Nith, the Afton, the Devon, and many another
Scotch stream, while Bowles wrote of the Itchin, the Tweed, the
Cherwell, and the Wansbeck. A map might be made on which
should be represented only the mountains and streams spoken of
with some particularity, with something more than a mere men-
tion, in English poetry between 1650 and 1720, and a similar
map of the period from 1720 to 1795. A comparison of the
two would be an interesting commentary on the growth of knowl-
edge and interest in British scenes.
Preference for
country life
All that has been so far presented goes to show that in the
antithesis between town and country the balance of favor
swung round during the eighteenth century to
the country. Usually the preference is implicit,
and is to be inferred from the change of theme,
but occasionally the antithesis is sharply stated, as, to take
types, in Thomson, the Wartons, and Cowper. It is Thom-
son who first gives adequate statement of the transfer of
sovereignty from the "fine lady muses of Richmond Hill"
to "the muses of the simple country." It is his hatred of
the noisome town, his delight in fields and woods untouched
by man, that established the new canon of taste. In the
Wartons, twenty years later, the breach between the city and
the country is almost an impassable gulf. Combined with the love
of nature in her external forms there is that spirit of romantic mel-
ancholy by virtue of which the poet regards nature as a refuge
from the tormenting complexities that beset the life of men in
communities. There is usually a touch, sometimes more than a
touch, of morbidness in the passionate eagerness to escape not
only from the city into nature, but from man and all traces of his
dominion into a solitude free from all human suggestiveness.
Forty years after the Wartons, Cowper's famous epigram, "God
made the country and man made the town," summed the matter
up according to the new view. Cowper is as emphatic in his pref-
erences as his predecessors, and much more detailed and min-
ute in his expression. With him there is no vague generalizing, no
GENERAL SUMMARY
263
morbid or passionate over-statement. His love of the country is
a fundamental fact not only in his physical, but also and even
especially in his moral and spiritual life. It is a fixed principle,
quiet, rational, inevitable. The anti-classical side of the city and
country antithesis receives in Cowper's poetry its most decisive
and most reasonable eighteenth century statement. We hardly
find anything so conclusive in fiction or in travels. There is an
occasional expression of regret at going back to towns after a
trip through the mountains and lakes, but as a rule the prefer-
ence for the country is left to be inferred from the general tenor
of the traveler's writings. Mrs. Brooke protests much against
London, and declares her preference for nature unadorned.
Mackenzie's Julia rejoices over her country birth and education,
and Mrs. Radcliffe reiterates the desirability of living far from
towns and as close as possible to the influence of nature.
Cowper, however, remains as having given the final, emphatic
statement.
Personal
enthusiasm
for nature
Through all this detailed study and wide knowledge of nature
there runs an undercurrent of personal enthusiasm which is quite
a separate thing from the knowledge of nature, but
which led to that knowledge and was fed by it.
Sometimes we are left to infer this enthusiasm
from results, but oftener it finds clear statement.
There is frequent expression of such "unspeakable joy" as
Ambrose Philips felt when he gazed on a little country home, or
of Ramsay's "heartsome joy" on a bright spring morning
'to see the rising plants,
And hear the birds chirm o'er their pleasin' rants,"
or of Hamilton's rapturous joy as he lies on the flowering-turf,
his soul "commercing with the sky." In many passages Thom-
son expresses his passionate delight in the music, the color, the
fragrances of the outdoor world. Dyer's joys run high as he
lies on the mountain-turf. Shenstone says that the beauties of
nature alone bear perpetual sway, and he thinks with scorn of a
soul so narrow that it cannot relish nature's calm delights.
Joseph Warton cannot find words to express the ecstasy with
which he looks on nature. John Langhorne's only wish is
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1
that he may enjoy the blessings nature gives to those who love
her, and says that her charm alone is unfading. Beattie says that
the man who goes to nature has rapture ever new. Cowper
thinks that any man who turns away from nature starves deserv-
edly. Burns says that he looked upon nature with boundless
joy. This feeling of exhilaration, of rapturous delight, is per-
vasive. It is often inadequate, or vague, or extravagant in state-
ment, but the delight is unfeigned, the enthusiasm real, and in
poet after poet it demanded expression. That it seldom found
the perfect statement only means that art is long and that much
thinking and feeling in an age as in an individual must go before
the final art-form.
God in nature
In
Much of this delight in nature is in kind though not in
degree like that which Wordsworth in Tintern Abbey calls his
second period of love for nature, the time when
the colors and forms of the external world were a
sufficiently engrossing pleasure, and he felt no
need of “a remoter charm by thought supplied." But Words-
worth quickly passed from this stage of pleasure to another.
his best descriptions, as in The Yew Trees, he gives a few
external details, and then at once penetrates to the inner spirit
of the, scene. He is like a portrait painter who represents the
features with truth and simplicity but makes the face live because
he has divined the qualities of soul behind it. Now whatever
philosophical tenets Wordsworth held he certainly thought of
this soul of nature, whether of nature às a whole, or in special
parts, as in some way a manifestation of divinity. In other words
he saw God immanent in nature. The classical conception also
saw God in nature, but as the remote Architect, Artificer, Law-
giver. The universe was dead, cold, inert matter. For the diffi-
culty with which it was made to serve men's needs the defenders
of Omnipotence felt apologetic explanations necessary. We
have seen that during the eighteenth century there came a great and
joyous awakening to the external charm of the world. Are there
also indications that the divine life in nature was felt?
Throughout the eighteenth century the usual thought of God in
relation to nature is the classical one. He is the author and
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GENERAL SUMMARY
265
controller; of the universe; but there are some poems or passages
or separate lines that seem to indicate a new conception. Lady
Winchelsea recognizes a curious correspondence between nature
and her own heart, and says that in the quiet of a beautiful night
she feels the presence of something too high for syllables to
speak. There is a similar feeling in Hamilton's description of a
silent grove. In the Nocturnal Revery and in Contemplation the
idea of divinity is not explicitly stated, but in Parnell's Hymn the
song of praise is professedly to the Source of all Nature, because
through nature the divine spirit had spoken peace to the poet's
troubled heart. The incessant and ever-present creative activity
of God is clearly set forth in Thomson's Hymn. Each ray of
sunshine, every blossoming flower of spring, every leaping
stream, every rolling orb, performs its function as a direct
expression of divine energy. And some lines give a further sug-
gestion of divine immanence. The rolling year is full of God.
The seasons are but the varied God. The beauty of God walks
forth in the flushing spring. Such expressions as these mark a
half-involuntary poetic seizing of the new idea of nature as the
bodily presence of which God was the soul, but they do not
indicate Thomson's leading ideas. Mallet, imitative of Thomson
in this as in other respects, usually speaks of God as the Creator,
but in one passage touches on the full stream of universal Good-
ness that is ever-flowing through earth, air, and sea, and on the
ceaseless song of praise going up from the great community of
nature's sons. Boyse in his Deity thinks of God as an Almighty
Architect, but has a few lines in which he represents all nature as
being momently derived from God. Young has a significant
line when he says that night is the "felt presence of the Deity."
The theme of Akenside's poem is to show the response which
the imaginative mind finds in nature, and this response is, he
says, the voice of the divine spirit. His conception is usually,
to be sure, that the divine spirit speaks through the forms of
nature, rather than that the form and the spirit have an essential
union. Yet sometimes he speaks more clearly the new thought.
He says that the man who loves nature holds daily converse with
God himself. The beauty of nature flows directly from God.
266 TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
The order in nature is sacred. The influence whereby nature
soothes and cheers and elevates man is really a divine influence.
This is the fullest recognition of an in-dwelling God until we
reach Cowper. In his poetry we find a clear statement of belief,
"There lives and works
A soul in all things, and that soul is God,"
but the point is not one on which he dwells. These passages
certainly foreshadow Wordsworth's conception of God in nature,
but they are comparatively feeble and unimaginative in expres-
sion. There is nothing so Wordsworthian in Thomson's sonor-
ous lines or in Akenside's ample statement as there is the
feeling that penetrates the brief words of Lady Winchelsea and
Parnell. Compared to these even Cowper seems cold and intel-
lectual.
Sense of
personal
indebtedness
to nature
Wordsworth did not, however, lay special stress on his belief
that the spirit he felt in nature was divine. He rather took that
for granted, or allowed it to be implied in the pas-
sionate fullness and intensity of his expressions of
gratitude to that spirit for gifts of mind and heart.
This sense of indebtedness to nature found no
place in the classical poetry. But in the transition
period it receives surprisingly full and varied expression. Some-
times it takes the form of personal gratitude for special gifts;
sometimes it is a general statement of what man owes to nature.
A brief review of the more significant passages will serve to show
the characteristics of this feeling towards nature.
Peace
To begin with, nature gives peace. This is the gift most
often spoken of. Even John Philips said that nature calmed his
mind. Ambrose Philips liked the songs of birds
because they brought him into a mood of "sweet
and gentle composure." Lady Winchelsea enjoyed
the night because its influence disposed her heart to silent mus-
ings and made her conscious of a "sedate content." Parnell
had long vainly sought contentment until at last his heart
received the message of peace through the voices of nature.
Hamilton said that all the passions in the troubled breast of man
could be calmed by the quiet of a grove. Thomson finds in
GENERAL SUMMARY
267
66
nature a power that can "serene his soul" and "harmonize his
heart. Dyer finds peace and quiet in "the meads and mountain-
heads." Mallet follows Thomson in thought and phrase when
he represents that nature has power to serene the soul."
Akenside says that the spirit of nature lulls man's passions to a
divine repose. Cooper says that a contemplation of the order
and regularity in nature's life will induce a like harmonious
action in the human heart, and that the fiercest passions of
horror and revenge can be soothed by nature. Joseph Warton
says that all nature conspires to sooth and harmonize the mind.
William Whitehead speaks of the "philosophic calmness" that
comes to man from nature. Beattie's hermit found in nature a
power that could subdue the wildest passions and give "profound
repose." Bruce found in nature harmony of mind." Bowles
felt a "soothing charm" that brought "solace to his heart"
and "bore him on serene." So, too, was it with Cowper.
Nature gave him heart-consoling joys, and brought peace and
quiet into his life. This power of nature to sooth the mind of
man and to modify his passions receives full expression also in
Mrs. Radcliffe's romances.
Joy
Nature gives not only peace and rest to man.
She gives
him joy.
The sense of ecstasy and rapture in this joy has
already been indicated in the passages expressive
of personal enthusiasm for nature. Sometimes it
was a joy rising out of the delight of agreeable
physical sensations, as when Lady Winchelsea felt in the odor of
the jonquil a pleasure so keen that it was pain, or when
Langhorne sank down oppressed by the boundless charms of
field and wood, or such joy as Gray's convalescent knew when he
went out again into nature. But here a more spiritual joy is
referred to. It is rather the disturbing joy of elevated thoughts
of which Wordsworth speaks. This uplift of soul in the presence
of nature is felt by Parnell when he seeks to give expression to
the great chorus of thanksgiving to God from all existences.
Lady Winchelsea and John Langhorne felt it when nature gave
them "thoughts too high to be express't." Akenside felt it, and
in a truly Wordsworthian sense, when he said that in the presence
A
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​of nature the intellect is charmed into a suspension of its
graver cares, while love and joy alone possess the soul. Burns
finds that nature exalts, enraptures him, making him conscious
of an elevation of soul. And, finally, in Gilpin, we find, though
awkwardly expressed, an exact statement of the enthusiastic calm,
the visionary joy, with which Wordsworth looked on nature.
Inspiration
A third gift of nature is poetical inspiration, and that, too, in
the sense in which Wordsworth believed that nature set him
apart for poetry and assisted him in his develop-
ment. Akenside's apostrophe to the Wansbeck
along whose banks he wandered in childhood,
"led in silence by some powerful hand unseen," his asser-
tion that these influences fixed the color of his life for every
future year, his thought of nature's "tender discipline" when
skies and streams and groves conspire to guide the predestined
sons of Fancy, are strikingly Wordsworthian. Langhorne
says that in his lonely youth "the woodland genius" came and
touched him with the holy flame of poetry. To the Genius of
Westmoreland he ascribes the sacred fire within his breast. The
whole theme of Beattie's Minstrel is, as has been pointed out,
the effect of nature on a poetically sensitive mind.
Nature also gives a wisdom such as books and schools can-
not give. The earliest expression of this thought is in Pat-
tison's comparison of the deep wisdom drawn
from nature and the superficial knowledge of the
schools. Gay in the contest between the Shepherd
who knew nature and the Philosopher who knew cities and books
determined that nature without the schools can make men wise.
Langhorne says that “fair Philosophy," like Poetry, must be
sought for in nature. There is, however, no other eigtheenth
century statement of this idea so complete as Cowper's eulogy
of the wisdom of the heart that nature gives.
Wisdom
Nature is also considered as inspiring to morality and virtue.
Gay, in a fable already quoted from, says that nature can make
"moral" and "good," if they will learn her lessons.
Thomson meditates on nature because thence he hopes to
learn lessons of morality. Mallet says that nature inspires
men
GENERAL SUMMARY.
269
T
1
the soul with "virtuous raptures" and prompts man to forsake
sin-born vanities and low pursuits. Akenside's chief theme is
the power of nature to lead men from petty inter-
Incitements to ests and hurried, sordid lives into a beneficent and
virtue
ordered activity of the soul. Cooper ascribes to
"every natural scene a moral power." John Lang-
horne says that the sweet sensations of nature, move the "springs
of virtue's love," and have a "moral use," and that religion, fled
from books, can be found in nature whence we first drew both
our knowledge and our virtue. Beattie says that the charms of
nature work" the soul's eternal health." They inspire love and
gentleness. They incite to high living, and the man who
neglects them can hardly hope to be forgiven. A pervading
thought in Cowper's poems is his moral and spiritual indebted-
ness to nature.
Wordsworth not infrequently indicates his belief that the
spirit of nature consciously blesses man. This idea is sometimes
found in the transition poetry, as in Hamilton's Contemplation,
and especially in Akenside and Cowper who represent nature as
making the happiness of man "her dear and only aim."
So far we have discussed the knowledge of nature and the feel-
ing towards it rather than its use in literature. That this knowl-
edge was abundant and varied, that this feeling was
enthusiastic and often deeply reverential, may, per-
haps, pass without further question. But a different
problem presents itself when we ask what literary use the eighteenth
It must be conceded at the outset
century poet made of nature.
Literary use
of nature
that many references to natural facts are not literary at all. In
Mallet's Excursion, for instance, his journey through stellar spaces
renders frequent mention of the sky and stars inevitable, but the
references might as well be to macadamized roads.
His purpose
Such
is merely to get from one point of vantage to another.
brief, cold, unpicturesque use of details for purposes of transition
are really non-literary. In any tabular statement of an author's
work some discount must be made to allow for this mechanical
use of nature, and in certain authors, as notably Mallet and
Young, the discount is large. Another non-literary use of nature
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TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
is in the catalogue or summary. John Scott gives the extreme
example of this unorganized accumulation of details. The instinct
of the artist is wanting. The poet does not even attempt to make
nature a part of a well-fused literary product. He is encumbered
by his material. He crowds his canvas. His full and realistic
presentation is without artistic reservations. His record is
prompted simply by interest in the separate facts. No literary
purpose determines his selection or rejection of detail.
A recog-
nized theme, unity, proportion, are absent. Such summaries may
be of the highest importance as showing the abundance and exact-
ness of the author's knowledge of nature, and separate phrases
may have real literary quality, but the passage as a whole is no
more literary than an inventory.
When, however, a purpose is apparent in the use of nature,
when there is discrimination under the dominance of a central
idea, then, however crude and feeble the actual result, there is at
least an attempt to use nature in a literary way.
This dominating purpose may be merely description for its
own sake, an attempt to present aspects of nature in successive,
isolated, artistically composed pictures, each complete in itself
and having its parts organically related. Such description is
entirely objective. Its aim is the reproduction of sights and
sounds by which nature under given conditions appeals to the
When highly elaborated its obvious danger is that there
will be, in spite of the most artistic management, a certain vague-
ness and heaviness of effect. There are, nevertheless, very beautiful
examples of pure detailed description dissociated from any pur-
pose except that of making a picture in words, in both Thomson
and Cowper, and here and there less successful examples in other
writers.
senses.
A more subtle use of nature is when the poet assembles his
details in order to reproduce not a scene or an aspect of nature,
but the typical impression they have made on his mind. Lady
Winchelsea tells many facts about night, but her purpose is not
the description of a single night; it is the reproduction of the
loving delight and tender awe awakened in her own heart by
many soft summer nights. The purpose of Parnell's descriptive
1
GENERAL SUMMARY
271
details is the reproduction of the mood of spiritual content induced
by certain scenes. Passages such as these are often more or less
detailed summaries, but they have literary quality because the
motif produces unity of effect.
Again, the facts and descriptions may be adduced in support
of a theory, as in Young's Night Thoughts, Akenside's Pleasures
of the Imagination, Shenstone's Progress of Taste, Beattie's Min-
strel, and Cowper's Task. Here, too, an organizing purpose is
discernible, though there is the greatest possible difference in the
various ways of using the material for the given purpose; Young's
facts for instance, being used in a cold, argumentative fashion,
while Beattie's and Cowper's are suffused with emotion.
Another use of nature is based on the poet's perception of the
analogies between external nature and human life or character.
One outcome of this sense for analogies is in abundant simili-
tudes, a literary use of nature common in all languages, at all
periods. In the pseudo-classical poetry of England we have seen
that the similitudes were conventional and superficial. In a period
of intimate knowledge and love of the outer world there is stress
on the truth and beauty of the picture from nature as well as on
the human fact symbolized, and the analogy is subtly and sym-
pathetically conceived. Wordsworth's
"A violet by a mossy stone
Half hidden from the eye"
is perfect in itself as a picture of nature, and it is exquisitely apt
in describing Lucy. He discovered in nature that which in its
inner significance was truly a counterpart of the human idea.
With regard to the similitudes of the transition poetry I have
noted two interesting facts. In the first place, in proportion to
the whole use of nature the use of nature in similitudes is very
much less in the transition than in the classical poetry. In the
second place, in no other way of using nature was the changed
conception of the outer world so slow to manifest itself. Stock
similes persisted even in authors who, in other respects, gave clear
evidence of the new spirit. It was apparently easier to be origi-
nal and individual in a new realm, than to break away from the
established conventions of an accepted literary form. As another
-
272
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
4
outcome of the recognized correspondence between nature and
life the facts of nature become, as it were, an allegory of human
experience. From Dyer on there is a strain of pensive, gently
didactic moralizing drawn from the poet's observation of nature.
A river, however beautiful in itself because of its varying motion,
its shifting colors, its varied banks, its progress to the sea, is trans-
formed in the poet's mind into a symbol of the vicissitudes and
the final goal of life. Of the more obvious analogies of this sort
we find many examples, but of the highly imaginative use of
nature whereby the external fact, however truly and beautifully
perceived, seems hardly thought of except as a symbol of the
hidden things of the spirit and of the life to come we find almost
no examples outside of Blake.
The use of nature in connection with man's joys or sorrows
may be lyrical or it may be dramatic in tone. Under the lyrical
use of nature may be classed the numerous passages in which
the poet dwells upon his youth and the early joy he had in forest
stream and field. The homesick longing, the genuine human
feeling, and the marks of local fidelity to fact make this use of
nature usually excellent. It often takes the form of an apos-
trophe to some specific river or grove or hill. This autobio-
graphic use of nature is well exemplified in Thomson, Akenside,
Beattie, Langhorne, Mickle, Bruce, and Cowper. Again, the poet
recounts with lyrical fervor his debt to nature. He gives thanks
for content, joy, peace, serenity, or he implores nature to appease
the longings of his sick heart, to restore his soul to health. In
either case there is a mingling of human emotions and details.
from nature. Such passages may easily be feebly hysterical,
but sometimes as in Dyer, Beattie, Akenside, Langhorne, and
Cowper, they are marked by genuine beauty and pathos as well
as by directness of vision. (Perhaps the best examples of scenes
thus indissolubly connected with phases of spiritual experience
are Bowles's sonnets, and unquestionably the highest purely
lyrical use of nature is in Burns's songs.
Nature is used dramatically when it is made the appropriate
background or accompaniment of human life. This use of
nature may be merely to intensify the reader's impression by cer-
t
GENERAL SUMMARY
273
tain effects of harmony or contrast. Night, for instance, is
considered the appropriate setting for reflections on man's mor-
A certain sort of scenery
tality, as in Young and Parnell.
becomes the conventionally fit background for romantic aspira-
tions and dejections, as in all the sentimental melancholy poets.
But oftener nature is not merely a background. It is mingled
with the thought and action. This is true of most of the reflective,
moralizing poetry, and is true in a more dramatic sense in such
pastorals as Ramsay's and Gay's where it is impossible to think
of the people and their doings apart from the nature about them.
A similar dramatic use of nature is to be seen in Gray, in Collins,
in Ossian, and, in a briefer form, in the Ballads. It is, however,
in romantic fiction that this use of nature is most abundant during
the eighteenth century. As background, as accompaniment, and
further, even as a force contributing to the progress of the story
by its determining influence on mood and character, external
nature plays an important part. This background, indeed, some-
times becomes unduly important, almost usurping the place of
the picture, as in Mrs. Radcliffe's romances.
C
Nature may, finally, be regarded not only as making a
sensuous appeal to man, or as entering in some way into relation-
ship with him, but as having an independent and separate exist-
ence. The poet who thus conceives of nature gives little detailed
external description; nor does he think of a scene in its human
connotations, but he goes through facts and perceives the spirit of
the scene, the essential qualities that make it what it is. Of such
use of nature we find few eighteenth century examples. It
demands not only Wordsworth's wise passiveness of mood, and
clarity of vision, and depth of feeling, but likewise the power to
speak the inevitable word.
The detailed study of a barren field in its most barren aspect
would be inexcusably dull and dreary from any but the historical
point of view. The moment that point of view is adopted
interest begins. The study of literature as a growth, an evolution,
gives a new significance to periods of transition. The pleasure
of the biologist in the lower forms of life is paralleled by the
delight of the student of literature in tracing out the first vague,
274
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
.
ineffective attempts to express ideas that are afterwards regnant.
The final effect of the present study is one of surprise to find
how completely the ideas of the early nineteenth century poetry
of nature were represented in the germ in the eighteenth century.
The whole impression is that before the work of such men as
Wordsworth, Coleridge, and Scott there was a great stir of getting
ready. The love of nature was awake in the hearts of men.
Their eyes were open to her beauty. Their ears drank in her
harmonies. Their spirits were conscious of her higher gifts.
Before Wordsworth most of his characteristic thoughts on nature
had received fairly explicit statement.
We note also the vitality of the impulse toward nature as indi-
cated by the many directions in which it pushed out and
demanded expression. With little self-conscious direction, and
independently of each other apparently, the various arts were
irresistibly impelled to some sort of expression of the new
interest in the external world. Nor can we ignore the fact that
behind all forms of art expression there must have been the great
impulsive force of a love of nature active in the hearts of the
mute inglorious many.
When at the end of such a period of preparation the great
poet comes, he is great by virtue of his power to penetrate
beneath literary conventions and to give free, vigorous, adequate
expression to the struggling, half-articulate thoughts and feelings
of his own age. He is not an inexplicable, isolated phenomenon.
He has his natural place in the development. The profound
significance of the work that marks an epoch in thought is that
it not only directs the future, but it sums up the past.
..
BIBLIOGRAPHICAL INDEX.
COLLECTIONS.
British Novelists, An Edition with Essays and Lives: Ed. Anne Letitia Bar-
bauld. 50 vols. London, 1810.
British Poets, Less-Known: Ed. C. C. Clarke. 3 vols.
Edinburgh, 1868.
British Poets, Works of the: Ed. Thomas Park. 42 vols. Supplement, 6 vols.
London, 1805-8.
British Poets: Ed. Robert Anderson.
13 vols. Edinburgh, 1794.
Collection of Poems by Several Hands: Ed. R. Dodsley. 6 vols. London, 1755-
1758. Supplement: Ed. Pearch. 4 vols. 1783.
Collection of Voyages and Travels in All Parts of the World: Ed. Pinkerton,
John. 17 vols. London, 1809.
English Poets, Later: Ed. Robert Southey. 3 vols. London, 1807.
English Poets, The Works of: Ed. Dr. Samuel Johnson. 63 vols. London,
1779-1781.
English Poets from Chaucer to Cowper: Ed. Alexander Chalmers.
London, 1810.
21 vols.
Fugitive Poets, Classical Arrangement of: Ed. John Bell. 8 vols. London,
1789.
TEXTS AND BOOKS OF REFERENCE.
Addison, Joseph: Works. 6 vols. Bohn Ed., London, 1892.
Akenside, Mark: Poetical Works. Ed. Dyce.
London, 1885.
Amory, Thomas: Life of John Buncle. 3 vols. London, 1825.
Armstrong, John: Poems. Park's British Poets, Vol. 34.
Bage Robert: Hemsprong. Mrs. Barbauld's British Novelists.
Beattie, James: Poetical Works. Aldine Ed., London.
Beckford, William: Vathek.
Biese, Alfred: Die Entwickelung des Naturgefühls im Mittelalter und der
Neuzeit. Leipzig, 1892.
Blackmore, Richard: Poems. Dr. Johnson's English Poets, Vol. 23.
Blair, Robert: Poems. Chalmers' English Poets, Vol. 15.
Blake, William: Works. Eds. Ellis and Yeats. 3 vols., London, 1893.
Blomfield, Reginald and Thomas, Inigo: The Formal Garden. London, 1892.
Blümner, Hugo: Die Farbenbezeichnungen bei den Römischen Dichtern. Berlin,
1895.
Boswell, James: Life of Dr. Johnson. Ed. Birkbeck Hill. 6 vols. Oxford,
1887.
275
7
•
276
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
Bowles, William Lisle: Poetical Works. Ed. C. C. Clarke. Edinburgh, 1868.
Boyse, Samuel: Poems. Chalmers' English Poets, Vol. 14.
Bramstan, James: Poems. Bell's Fugitive Poets, Vol. 3.
Brand, J.: Brief Description of Orkney, Zetland, etc. Pinkerton's Collection.
Vol. 3.
Brooke, Henry: The Fool of Quality. 3 vols., New York, 1860.
Brooke, Mrs.: History of Lady Julia Mandeville. Mrs. Barbauld's British
Novelists. The History of Emily Montagu. 4 vols., London, 1769.
Brooke, Stopford A. Theology in the English Poets. London, 1891.
Broome, William: Poems. Dr. Johnson's English Poets, Vol. 43.
Brown, Dr. John: Poems. Anderson's British Poets, Vol. 10. Description
of Keswick. Bell's Fugitive Poets, Vol. 2, Notes.
Bruce, Michael: Poems. Anderson's British Poets, Vol. 11, Pt. 1.
Browne, Isaac Hankins: Bell's Fugitive Poets.
Bryan, Michael: Dictionary of Painters and Engravers, London, 1884.
Brydall, Robert: Art in Scotland. London, 1859.
2 vols. London, 1759.
2 vols. London, 1890.
Buckingham, Duke of: Poems. Dr. Johnson's English Poets, Vol. 25.
Burroughs, John: Fresh Fields. Boston, 1885.
Burnet, Thomas: The Sacred Theory of the Earth.
Burney, Francis: Evelina. London, 1892. Cecilia.
Burns, Robert: Works. Ed. William Scott Douglas. London, 1891.
Butler, Samuel: Poems. Dr. Johnson's English Poets, Vols. 6 and 7.
Cawthorne, James: Poems. Bell's Fugitive Poets, Vol. 3.
Chambers, Sir William: Dissertation on Oriental Gardens. London, 1744.
Champlin and Perkins: Cyclopedia of Painters and Painting. New York, 1892.
Chapman, George: Homer's Iliad and Odyssey. Ed. R. H. Shepherd. London, -
1885.
Chaucer, Geoffrey: Poetical Works. 6 vols. Aldine Ed., London, 1883.
Collins, William: Poetical Works. Ed. M. M. Thomas. Aldine Ed., London.
Congreve, William: Poems. Dr. Johnson's English Poets, Vol. 29.
Cooper, J. G.: Poems. Chalmers' English Poets., Vol. 15.
Coventry, Francis: Poems. Dodsley's Collection, Vol. 4. Pompey the Little.
•
· Mrs. Barbauld's British Novelists, Vol. 23.
Cowley, Abraham: Poems. Dr. Johnson's English Poets, Vols. 1 and 2.
Cowper, William: Poetical Works. Ed. William Benham. New York, 1889..
Crabbe, George: Poetical Works. 8 vols. London, 1851.
Croxall, Samuel: Poems. Southey's Later English Poets, Vol. 2.
Cunningham, Allen: British Painters. London, 1879.
Dalton, Dr. John: Poems. Bell's Fugitive Poems, Vol. 2.
Defoe, Daniel: The Life and Strange, Surprising Adventures of Robinson
Crusoe. Ed. G. A. Aitken, London, 1895.
Denham, John: Poems. Dr. Johnson's English Poets, Vol. 9.
Dodsley, Robert: Poems. Chalmers' English Poets, Vol. 15.
Downing, A. J.: Landscape Gardening and Rural Architecture. New York, 1860.
BIBLIOGRAPHICAL INDEX
277
.
Dryden, John: Works. 9 vols. Eds. Scott and Saintsbury. Edinburgh, 1882.
Duck, Stephen: Poems. Southey's Later English Poets, Vol. 2.
Dyer, John Poems. Dr. Johnson's English Poets, Vol. 53.
Etherege, Sir George: Plays and Poems. London, 1888.
Evelyn, John: The Diary of John Evelyn from 1641 to 1705-6. Ed. William
Bray. London, 1890.
Falconer, William: Poetical Works.
Aldine ed., London, 1882.
Famous Parks and Gardens of the World. London, 1880.
Fenton, Elijah: Poems. Chalmers' English Poets, Vol. 10.
Fielding, Henry: Works. IO vols. Ed. Leslie Stephen. London, 1882.
Fielding, Sarah: The Adventures of David Simple. 2 vols. London, 1741.
Fischer, Ch. A.: Drei Studien zur Englischen Literaturgeschichte. Gotha,
1892.
Garth, Sir Samuel: Poems. Dr. Johnson's English Poets, Vol. 20.
Gay, John: Poems. Dr. Johnson's English Poets, Vols. 41 and 42.
Gilpin, William: Essays on Picturesque Beauty. London, 1808.
Gosse, Edmund: Seventeenth Century Studies. London, 1885. From Shake-
speare to Pope. New York, 1885. A History of Eighteenth Century Liter-
ature. New York, 1891.
Gray, Thomas: Works. Ed. Edmund Gosse. 4 vols. New York, 1890.
Graeme, James: Poems. Anderson's British Poets, Vol 11, Part 1.
Grainger, James: Poems. Chalmers' English Poets, Vol. 14.
Green, Matthew Paris: Chalmers' English Poets, Vol. 15.
Halifax, Earl of: Poems. Dr. Johnson's English Poets, Vol. 12.
Hamilton, Rev. Wm.: Letters from Antrim. Pinkerton's Collection, Vol. 3.
Hassel, J.: Tour to the Isle of Wight. Pinkerton's Collection, Vol. 2.
Hawkesworth, John: Almoran and Hamet. Mrs. Barbauld's British Novelists.
Hill, Aaron: Poems. Anderson's British Poets, Vol. 8.
Howell, James: Epistolæ Ho-Eliana. London, 1737.
Hughes, John: Poems. Dr. Johnson's English Poets, Vol. 22.
Humboldt, Alexander Von: Kosmos. 4 vols. Stuttgart, 1890.
Hutchinson, W.: An Excursion to the Lakes in Westmoreland and Cumberland.
London, 1776.
Inchbald, Mrs.: A Simple Story. Mrs. Barbauld's British Novelists.
Jago, Richard: Poems. Anderson's British Poets, Vol. 11.
Jencks, J. W.: Rural Poetry. Boston, 1856.
Jenyns, Soame: Poems. Bell's Fugitive Poets, Vol. 1.
Johnson, Samuel: Works. 9 vols. Oxford English Classics, 1825.
King, William: Poems. Dr. Johnson's English Poets, Vol. 20.
Langhorne, John: Poems. British Poets, Vol. II.
Laprade, Victor de: La Sentiment de la Nature chez les Modernes. Paris, 1870.
Lecky, W. E. H.: History of England in the Eighteenth Century. 8 vols. New
York, 1882.
Lee, Vernon: Euphorion. Boston, 1885.
278
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
Lennox, Mrs.: The Female Quixote. Mrs. Barbauld's British Novelists.
Logan, John: British Poets, Vol. II.
Loudon, J. C.: Encyclopædia of Gardening. London, 1871.
Lyttleton, Lord: Poems. Dr. Johnson's English Poets, Vol. 56.
Mackenzie, Henry: The Man of Feeling. Julia de Roubiqué. Mrs. Barbauld's
British Novelists.
Macpherson, James: Poems of Ossian. Ed. Dr. Blair. Tauchnitz Ed. Leip-
zig, 1847.
McLaughlin, Edward T.: Studies in Medieval Life and Literature. New York,
1894.
Mallet, David: Poems. Dr. Johnson's English Poets, Vol. 53.
Marriott, Mr.: Poems. Dodsley's Supplement, Vol. 4.
Martin, Mr.: Description of the Western Islands of Scotland. Pinkerton's Collec-
tion, Vol. 3.
Marvell, Andrew: Works. 4 vols. Ed. Grosart. Fuller Worthies' Library,
1875.
Mason, William: Poems. London, 1764. The English Garden. Jencks's
Rural Poetry.
London, 1847.
New York, 1894.
Mendez, Moses: The Seasons. Bell's Fugitive Poets, Vol 6.
Mickle, Wm. J.: Poems. Park's British Poets, Vol. 34.
Miller, Hugh: Impressions of England and its People.
Milton, John: Poetical Works. 3 vols. Ed. Masson.
Moore, Dr.: Zeluco. Mrs. Barbauld's British Novelists.
Montagu, Lady Mary Wortley: Letters and Works.
Paltock, Robert: The Life and Adventures of Peter Wilkins.
1884.
Parnell, Thomas: Poetical Works, London, 1890.
Pattison, William: Poems. Anderson's British Poets.
2 vols. London, 1887.
2 vols. London,
Pennant, Thomas: Tours in Scotland. Pinkerton's Collection, Vol. 3.
Pennecuik, Alexander: Works in Prose and Verse. Leith, 1815.
Percy, Bishop: Reliques of Ancient English Poetry. 3 vols. Ed. H. B,
Wheatley, London, 1891.
Perry, T. S.: English Literature in the Eighteenth Century. New York, 1883.
Petrarca, Francesco: Lettere Famigliari. 5 vols. Florence, 1863.
Phelps, W. L.: The Beginnings of the English Romantic Movement. Boston,
1893.
Philips, Ambrose: Dr. Johnson's English Poets, Vol. 14.
Philips, John: Dr. Johnson's English Poets, Vol. 21.
Pitt, Christopher: Poems. Dr. Johnson's English Poets, Vol. 43.
Pope, Alexander: Works. 10 vols. Eds. Edwin and Courthope. London
1671.
Potter, R.: Poems. Bell's Fugitive Poets, vol. 6.
Price, Sir Uredale: An Essay on the Picturesque. London, 1794.
Prior, Matthew: Dr. Johnson's English Poets, Vols. 30, 31.
BIBLIOGRAPHICAL INDEX
279
Radcliffe, Mrs.: Romance of a Forest. 3 vols. London, 1803. Mysteries of
Udolpho. 4 vols. London, 1803.
Ramsay, Allan: Poems. 2 vols. Paisley, 1877.
Redgrave, Gilbert: Water-color Painting in England. New York, 1892.
Reeve, Cora: Old English Baron. Mrs. Barbauld's British Novelists, Vol. 21.
Repton, Humphrey: Landscape Gardening and Landscape Architecture. Ed.
J. C. Loudon. London, 1840.
Richardson, Samuel: Works. Ed. Leslie Stephen.
Robertson, David: Tour Through the Isle of Man.
Vol. 2.
12 vols. London, 1883.
Pinkerton's Collection,
Roscommon, Earl of: Poems. Dr. Johnson's English Poets, Vol. 10.
Rowe, Nicholas: Poems. Dr. Johnson's English Poets, Vol. 26.
Ruskin, John: Modern Painters, 2 vols.
Bantwood Ed., London, 1891.
Savage, Richard: Dr. Johnson's English Poets, Vol. 45.
Scott, John: Poems. Anderson's British Poets, Vol. 11, Part 2.
Dramatic Works. 2 vols. London, 1820.
Shadwell, Thomas:
Shaw, Rev. Mr.: Tour to the West of England.
Pinkerton's Collection, Vol. 2.
Shairp, J. C. On the Poetic Interpretation of Nature. Boston, 1890.
Shenstone, William: Poems. Dr. Johnson's English Poets, Vol. 52. Uncon-
nected Thoughts on Landscape Gardening in Works. 3 vols. London,
1764-69.
Siret, Adolph: Dictionnaire Historique des Peintres. Bruxelles, 1848.
Smart, Christopher: Poems. Chalmers' English Poets, Vol. 16. Song to David.
Clarke's Less Known British Poets, Vol. 3.
Smith, Mrs. Charlotte: The Old Manor House.
Smollett, Tobias: Works, 6 vols. London, 1890.
Somerville, William: Poems. Dr. Johnson's English Poets, Vol. 47.
Spooner, Shearjashub: Dictionary of Painters.
New York, 1853.
Spratt, Thomas: Poems. Dr. Johnson's English Poets, Vol. 9.
Stephen, Leslie: English Thought in the Eighteenth Century.
don, 1887.
Stepney, George: Poems. Dr. Johnson's English Poets.
2 vols. Lon-
Sterne, Laurence: Works. Ed. James P. Browne. 2 vols. London, 1885.
Symonds, J. A.: Essays Speculative and Suggestive. London, 1893.
Swift, Jonathan: Poems. Dr. Johnson's English Poets, Vols. 39 and 40.
Taine, H. A.: Voyage en Italie. Paris, 1893.
Temple, Sir William: Works. 2 vols. Ed. Jonathan Swift. London, 1831.
Thompson, William: Poems. Anderson's British Poets, Vol. 10.
Thomson, James: Poetical Works. 2 vols. Aldine ed. London, 1867.
Tickell, Thomas: Poems. Dr. Johnson's English Poets, Vol. 26.
Veitch, John: The Feeling for Nature in Scottish Poetry. 2 vols. Edinburgh,
1887.
Waller, Edmund: Poems. Dr. Johnson's English Poets, Vol. 8.
Walpole, Horace: Works. 5 vols. London, 1789.
280
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
Warton, Joseph: Poems. Clarke's Less Known British Poets, Vol. 3. Dods-
•
ley's Collection, Vol. 3. An Essay on the Genius and Writings of Pope.
vols. London, 1806.
Warton, Thomas: Poems. Anderson's British Poets, Vol. 11, Part 2.
Watts, Isaac: Poems. Dr. Johnson's English Poets, Vol. 46.
Whateley, Thomas: Observations on Modern Gardening. London, 1798.
Whitehead, William Anderson's British Poets, Vol. 11, Part. 2.
:
2
Winchelsea, Lady (Anne Finch): Miscellany Poems on Several Occasions. Writ-
ten by a Lady. 1713.
Wordsworth, William: Poetical Works. New York, 1889.
Valden, Thomas: Poems. Dr. Johnson's English Poets, Vol. 10.
Young, Arthur: Tour in Ireland. Pinkerton's Collection, Vol. 3.
Tour
through Southern Counties. London, 1772. Tour in Ireland, 2 vols.
London, 1780. A Farmer's Tour. 4 vols. London, 1771.
Young, Edward: Poems. Dr. Johnson's English Poets, Vois. 50, 51, 52.
ད
GENERAL INDEX.
Addison, Joseph: 19, 23, 28, 30, 40,
46, 72; Gardens, 183-185; Fiction,
213, 214.
Akenside, Mark : II, 17, 27, 42;
Poems, 110-113. 244, 261, 265,
267, 268, 269, 271, 272.
Allan, David: see Painting, 237.
Almada Hill, see Mickle.
Almoran and Hamet, see Hawkes-
worth.
Amory, Thomas: 9, 13, 195, 217-219,
243, 254, 256.
Amwell, see Scott, John.
Amyntor and Theodora, see Mallet.
158;
Animals Thomson, 79; Somerville,
100; Smart, 134; Blake,
Cowper, 166; Burns, 174; Sum-
mary, 260.
Apollo's Edict, see Swift.
Armstrong, John: 29, 39; Poems, 70-
72; 244, 249, 251, 258, 260.
Autumn 85, 86, 139, 145, 228.
Bage, Robert: see Fiction, 224.
Bard, The, see Gray.
Barret, George: see Painting, 238,
254.
Beattie, James: 18, 19; Poems, 148-
153; 245, 246, 250, 254, 255, 257,
258, 260, 264, 268, 269, 271, 272.
Beckford, William: see Fiction, 224.
Bees, in Similitudes, 27.
Biese, Alfred: v, vii, 12, 13, 19, 184,
190, 230.
Birds in Similitudes, 26, 27; Thom-
:
son, 78, 79; Dyer, 93, 95; Mallet,
98; Jago, 117; Gray, 121; Potter,
121; T. Warton, 128; Langhorne,
281
132; Mickle, 137; Bruce, 144;
Burns, 171, 175; Summary, 251,
252, 260.
Blackmore, Richard: 10, 17, 38.
Blair, Robert: 28; Poems, 114, 115.
Blake, William: Poems, 156-159;
244, 257.
Blomfield and Thomas: see Gardens,
181, 183.
Blümner, Hugo: 43.
Borough, The, see Crabbe.
Bowles, W. L.: 126; Poems, 175-179;
248, 262, 267, 272.
Boyse, Samuel: Poems, 105, 106; 265.
Braes of Yarrow, see Logan; see
Hamilton of Bangour.
Bramstone, Mr.: 186.
Brand, John: see Travels, 194.
Bray, Mr.: see Travels, 210.
Bridgeman, Thomas: see Gardens.
Brooke, Henry: see Fiction, 221.
Brooke, Mrs.: see Fiction, 221.
Brooke, Stopford: ix.
Broome, William: 17, 18, 19, 23.
Brown, Dr. John: 13; Poems, 131, 132;
Travels, 195-197; 243, 250, 251,
254, 256.
Brown, Lancelot : see Gardens.
Browne, Isaac Hawkins: 5.
Bruce, Michael:
Poems, 143, 144;
245-260, 267.
Buckingham, Duke of: 27.
Burnet, Thomas: 8, 20.
Burney, Fanny: see Fiction, 224.
Burns, Robert: vii, viii; Poems, 170-
175; 246, 247, 259, 260, 262, 272.
Burroughs, John: ix.
1
}
282
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
!
Butler, Samuel: 30.
Butts, John: see Painting, 233, 254.
Caleb Williams, see Godwin.
Castle of Indolence, see Thomson.
Castle of Otranto, see Walpole.
Cawthorne, James: 186.
Cecilia, see Burney.
Chace, The, see Somerville.
Chambers, Sir William: 191.
Chapman, George, 36.
Chaucer, Geoffrey: viii, 36.
Clarissa Harlowe, see Richardson.
Classical Period: Subdivisions, I;
Preference for city life, 2-7; Dis-
like of grand or terrible in nature, 7;
Mountains, 7-14; Ocean, 14-16;
Winter, 16, 17; Dislike of remote
or mysterious, 17; Sky, 18; Moon-
light, 19; Stars, 19, 20; Night, 21;
Pleasure in gentler forms of nature,
21-23; Description, traditional and
bookish, 23, 24; Gardens, 25, 180,
181; Similitudes, 25-32; Sub-
ordination of nature to man, 32–35;
Poetic diction, 35-43; Imitative
character of poetry, 42-48; Man the
supreme interest, 48-51; Summary,
51, 52
Clevelley, John: see Painting, 240.
Clouds, see Sky.
Collins, William: viii; Poems, 108-
IIO; 244, 249, 250, 256, 257, 258.
Congreve, William: 17, 24, 27, 33.
Contemplation, see Hamilton of Ban-
gour.
Color: J. Philips, 54; Parnell, 62;
Ramsay, 68; Thomson, 77; Dyer,
91, 92; Savage, 98; Potter, 122; T.
Warton, 128; Scott, 154.
Cooper, John G.: Poems, 113, 114;
255, 267, 269.
Country, Life in the: Dislike of in
classical period, 2-6; Preference for
in transition poetry, 262, 263.
Country People, Realistic descriptions
of: Gay, 60-62; Ramsay, 66; Arm-
strong, 71; Thomson, 81, 82; Dyer,
93, 94; Duck, 99; Somerville, 100;
Relph, 114; Gray, 119; Goldsmith,
147; Scott, 155; Cowper, 164.
Country Walk, The, see Dyer.
Coventry, Francis: Poems, 117–118;
Gardens, 182, 191; Fiction, 216, 254,
257.
Cowley, Abraham: 1,2, 5, 6, 18, 19, 27,
28, 29, 33, 37, 38, 41.
Cowper, William: viii, His narrow
experience, 162–164; his full knowl-
edge, 164; his felicitous descriptions,
164-167; his love of the country,
167; his way of using nature, 168–
170; a propagandist, 170; 244-272
(passim).
Cozens, John: see Painting, 239.
Crabbe, George: Poems, 159–162;
237, 246.
Crome, John: see Painting, 238.
Cyder, see Philips, J.
Dalton, Dr. John: 13; Poems, 122–
124; 196, 209, 253, 254, 259, 261.
David Simple, see Fielding, Sarah.
Dayes, Edward: see Painting, 237.
Defoe, Daniel: vii, see Fiction, 214.
Deity, The, see Boyse.
Denham, John: 1, 6, 29, 73.
Description of Orkney, see Brand.
Description of Tweeddale, see Pen-
necuik.
Description of Western Island of Scot-
land, see Martin.
:
Descriptive Poem, A, see Dalton.
Diction Of poets in classical period,
18, 19, 23, 24, 36-44; A. Philips, 55:
Thomson, 82, 83, 89; Dyer, 91;
Mallet, 97; Akenside, 110; Thomp-
son, 116.
Dryden, John: 1, 3, 10, 14, 18, 27, 28,
30, 36, 38, 39, 41, 42, 45, 46, 178.
GENERAL INDEX
283
Duck, Stephen: Poems, 99.
Dyer, John: 40; Poems, 90-95; 240-
270 (passim).
Eclogues, see Collins.
Eclogues, Amabæans, see Scott.
Edge Hill, see Jago.
Eighteenth Century Literature, see
Gosse.
Eighteenth Century, English Thought
in the, see Stephen.
Eighteenth Century, English Litera-
ture in, see Perry.
Eighteenth Century, History of the, see
Lecky.
Elegy in a Country Churchyard, see
Gray.
Elfrida, see Mason.
Emily Montagu, see Mrs. Brooke.
England and English People, see
Miller.
English Lakes, the: Dr. Dalton, 122-
124; Brown, 131, 196, 197; Young,
199, 200; Gray, 200; Pennant, 203-
205; Gilpin, 207; Hutchinson 208-
209; Bray, 211; Four Tours, 211;
Hassel, 212; Amory, 217, 218;
Wright, 237; Dayes, 237; Farring-
ton, 235; Mr. Dalton, 238; Havell,
238; Girtin, 238; Crome, 238.
Enthusiast, The: see J. Warton. See
Whitehead.
Epostola Ho Eliana, see Howell.
Epsom Wells, see Shadewell.
Essay on the Picturesque, see Price.
Essay on Taste, see Cawthorne.
Etherge, Sir George: 4.
Eton College, Ode on a Distant Prospect
of, see Gray.
Euphorion, see Lee.
Evergreen, The, see Ramsay.
Evelina, see Burney.
Evelyn, John: 8, 180.
Evening, see Sky.
Evening, Ode to, see Collins.
Excursion, The, see Mallet.
Excursion to the Lakes, see Hutchin-
son.
Falconer, William: 15, 16, 19, 40.
Farewell Hymn to the Country, see
Potter.
Female Quixote, The, see Lennox.
Fenton, Elijah: 41.
Ferdinand Count Fathom, see Smollett.
Fiction: Addison and Steele, 213;
Defoe, 214; Richardson, 214, 215,
217; Fielding, Henry, 214, 215;
Fielding, Sarah, 215; Smollett,
215, 216, 217, 219, 221-223; Pal-
tock, 216; Coventry, 216; Lennox,
216, 217; Amory, 217, 218; Johnson,
219; Sterne, 219, 221; Hawkes-
worth, 219; Brooke, Mrs., 219–221;
Walpole, 221; Goldsmith, 221; Mac-
kenzie, 221, 223-4; Reeve, 223;
Burney, 224; Beckford, 224; Moore,
224; Inchbald, 224; Godwin, 224 ;
Bage, 224-5; Smith, 225-7; Rad-
cliffe, 227-9; Summary, 229-30.
Fielding, Henry: see Fiction, 214,
215.
Fielding, Sarah : see Fiction, 215.
Field Sports, see Somerville.
First-hand Observation: J. Philips, 54;
A. Philips, 55; Winchelsea, 56; Gay,
59; Parnell, 62; Ramsay, 69; Arm-
strong, 71; Pope, 73; Thomson, 78,
81, 82; Dyer, 92; Savage, 98; Col-
lins, 109: Relph, 114; Mendez, 116;
Gray, 120, 201-206; Dalton, 123; T.
Warton, 128; Smart, 135; Mickle,
137; Bruce, 143, 144; Logan, 145;
Beattie, 151; Scott, 153-155; Cowper,
163, 165; Brown, 196, 197; Young,
199; Pennant, 203; Gilpin, 206;
Hutchinson, 208; Bray, 211; Gains-
borough, 235; Allan, 237; Ibbetson,
239; Summary, 247, 248-262 ( pas-
sim).
284
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
•
Finch, Anne: Poems, 56-58; 247,249,
250, 257, 259, 260, 265, 266, 267,
270.
Fischer, Ch.: ix.
:
Flowers in Similitudes, 26; Gay,
60; Thomson, 78; Mallet, 98;
Hamilton, 104; Mickle, 137; Scott,
154; Blake, 157; Cowper, 164;
Burns, 170; Summary, 258, 259.
Fleece, The, see Dyer.
Fleetwood, see Godwin.
Fool of Quality, see Brooke, Henry.
Fox, Charles, see Painting, 238.
Fragment, A, see Mallet.
Gainsborough, see Painting, 235, 236,
243.
Garden, Description of a Chinese, see
Goldsmith, 191.
Garden in England, The Formal, see
Bloomfield.
Garden, The English, see Mason.
Garden Literature, Gleanings in Old,
see Hazlitt.
Garden, Unconnected Thoughts on a,
see Shenstone.
Gardening, Observations on Modern,
see Whateley.
Gardening, On Modern, see Walpole.
Gardens, Dissertation on Oriental, see
Chambers.
Gardens of Epicurus, On the, see
Temple.
Gardens, Famous Parks and, 181, 183.
Garden, The: vii, 25, 49; Green,
103; Warton, 124; Cowper, 164;
The classical garden, 180, 181;
Natural garden under Kent, Brown,
Bridgeman, 181-183; Pope and
Addison, 183-185; The ferme arné,
186; Leasowes, 186, 187; Treatises
by Shenstone, Whateley, Walpole,
Mason, 187, 188; Picturesque school,
188; Gardenesque school, 188, 189;
Ruins, 189, 190; Chinese gardens,
191; Summary, 191, 192; Remarks
on estates, Young, 199; Gray, 201;
Bray, 210; Smollett, 216; Richard-
son, 217; Brooke, Mrs., 220; Mack-
enzie, 223; Burney, 224; Smith, 226.
Garth, Sir Samuel: 19, 52, 41.
Gay, John: 6, 18, 19, 26, 27, 46;
Poems, 56-60; 232, 246-273 (pas-
sim).
Gentle Shepherd, The, see Ramsay.
Geographical Romance: Thomson,
84; Dyer, 91.
Gilpin, William : on Dyer, 92; Gar-
dens, 188, 189, 190; Tours, 205-
208; 242, 254, 256.
Girtin, Thomas: see Painting, 238,
248, 254.
Godwin, William : see Fiction, 224.
Goldsmith, Oliver: Poems, 146-148;
Gardens, 191; Fiction, 221.
Græme, James: Poems, 145, 146.
Grainger, James: Poems, 138.
Grave, The, see Blair.
Gray, Thomas: 41; Poems, 118–121;
152; Travels, 200-202; 247, 249,
250, 251, 254, 260, 267, 273.
Greene, Matthew; Poems, 103.
Grongar Hill, see Dyer.
Halifax, Earl of: 28, 29.
Hamilton, William, see Travels, 195.
Hamilton, of Bangour: viii; Poems,
104, 105; 262, 263, 265, 266, 269.
Harmony, The Power of, see Cooper.
Hassel, J.: see Painting, 212.
Havell, William, see Painting, 238,
254.
Hawkesworth, John: see Fiction, 219.
Hazlitt, William: 2, 184.
Hearne, Thomas; see Painting, 239.
Hemsprong, see Bage.
Hill, Aaron 5.
Hobbinol, see Somerville.
Homer: viii, 35.
Howell, James: 7.
GENERAL INDEX
285
Hughes, John: 17, 18, 19, 27, 29, 34.
Humboldt, Alexander von: v, II, 50
191.
Humphrey Clinker, see Smollett.
Hutchinson, W.: 9; see Travels, 208.
Hymn to Contentment, see Parnell.
Hymn to May, see Thompson.
Imagination, Pleasures of the, see
Akenside.
:
Imitation of classics, by poets of
classical period, 42-46; of classics
by A. Philips, 55; by Gay, 60; by
Ramsay, 66; by Thomson, 88, 89;
by Shenstone, 101, 102; of English
authors, 46-48; of Thomson, see
Thomson, his influence; of Dyer by
Mallet, 95; of Milton by J. Warton,
124; by T. Warton, 127; by Grain-
ger, 138; by Bruce, 143.
Inchbald, Mrs.: see Fiction, 224.
Jago, Richard: Poems, 117, 189, 254,
260.
John Buncle, Life of, see Amory.
Johnson, Dr. Samuel: 2, 9; see
Travels, 209, 210; see Fiction, 219,
251.
Jonathan Wild, see Fielding, Henry.
Joseph Andrews, see Fielding, Henry.
Journal in the Lakes, see Gray.
Journey to the Hebrides, see Johnson.
Julia de Roubigné, see Mackenzie.
Kent, William: see Gardens (passim).
Keswick, Letter from, see Dr. John
Brown.
Knight, Richard Payne, see Gardens.
Kosmos, see Humboldt.
Lady Julia Mandeville, see Mrs.
Brooke.
Lambert, George: see Painting, 232.
Landscape Painting: v, vii; Paint-
ing before 1755, 231-233; Wilson,
234, 235; Gainsborough, 235, 236;
Allan, 237; Morland, 237; Artists
in English Lake District, 237, 238;
other artists who studied wild sce-
nery, 238; Scenes from foreign lands,
239; Specialists in various phases
of nature, 239; Ocean, 239, 240;
Summary, 240, 241.
Landscape, The, see Knight.
Langhorne, John: Poems, 132, 133;
258, 259, 261, 265, 266, 267, 270.
Laprade, Victor de vi.
Lecky, W. E. H.: 13, 181.
Lee, Vernon: ix, 22.
Lennox, Mrs.: see Fiction, 216.
Letters from Antrim, see Hamilton.
Localization: 261, 262.
Lochlevan, see Bruce.
Logan, John: Poems, 144, 145; 252,
262.
Lyttleton, Lord: 4, 16.
Mackenzie, Henry: see Fiction, 221,
223.
McLaughlin, E. T.: ix, 12, 17, 21.
Macpherson, James: Poems, 138–141,
254, 261, 271.
Mallet, David: 3, 39, 40; Poems,
95-97; 188, 194, 254, 256, 257, 258,
265, 267, 268, 269.
Man of Feeling, The, see Mackenzie.
Man of Taste, see Bramstone.
Marriott, Mr.: 24, 191.
Martin, Mr.: see Travels, 194.
Marvell, Andrew: 2, 9, 31, 34, 35, 73,
78.
Mason, William: Poems, 118, 246;
see Gardens, 184, 188, 190, 191,
201, 209.
Mendez, Moses: 116, 251.
Mickle, W. J.: Poems, 136-138; 245,
249, 254, 255, 256, 257, 261, 272.
Milkmaid, The, see Thompson.
Miller, Hugh: 187.
Milton, John: vi, 2, 10, 27, 28, 40, 42,
43, 124, 127.
Minstrel, The, see Beattie.
Modern Painters, see Ruskin.
1
..
-
i
286 TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
Montagu, Lady Mary Wortley: 4, 16,
17.
Moonlight, see Sky.
Moore, Dr.: see Fiction, 224.
Morland, George: see Painting, 237.
Morning Contemplation, see Pattison.
Mountains and hills: Dislike of in
classical period, 7-13; Appreciation
of in J. Philips, 54; Gay, 59; Dyer,
91, 93; Jago, 117; Coventry, 117;
Mason, 118; Dalton, 123; Lang-
horne, 132; Mickle, 136; Macpher-
son, 138, 139; Ballads, 141; Beat-
tie, 149-152; Brown, 196–198;
Young, 199, 200; Gray, 118, 200,
201; Pennant, 203, 204; Gilpin,
205, 206; Hutchinson, 208, 209;
Richardson, 217; Amory, 217;
Smollett, 222; Radcliffe, 228;
Sandby, 233; Butts, 233; Barret,
238; Fox, 238; Girtin, 238; Sum-
mary, 254, 255, 261.
Mysteries of Udolpho, see Mrs. Rad-
cliffe.
Nature, Literary use of: Parnell, 63;
Pattison, 65; Dyer, 94; Hamilton
of Bangour, 105; Collins, 109;
Gray, 120; Macpherson, 138, 139;
Cowper, 168-170; Burns, 174;
Summary, 269–273.
Nature in relation to man: Subordi-
nation of nature to man, 33-35, 48-
51; Gardens, 191; Travels, 193,
198; Beneficent influence of nature,
J. Philips, 54; A. Philips, 55, 56;
Lady Winchelsea, 58; Gay, 60–62;
Parnell, 64; Pattison, 64, 65; Ram-
say, 70; Thomson, 86, 87; Dyer,
93, 94, 95; Shenstone, 102, 103;
Hamilton, 104; Coleridge and
Young, 107; Akenside, 110–113;
Cooper, 114; Gray, 119, 120; War-
ton, J., 125; Whitehead, 129, 130;
Langhorne, 132, 133; Mickle, 137;
Macpherson, 140; Goldsmith, 146,
147; Beattie, 148-150, 152; Scott,
155; Crabbe, 160, 161; Cowper,
167-170; Bowles, 176-178; Gilpin,
207; Robertson, 212; Smith, 226;
Radcliffe, 227-229; Summary, 263,
264.
Nature in relation to God: Parnell,
64; Thomson, 88; Boyse, 105;
Young, 107; Akenside, 113; Lang-
horne, 133; Smart, 134, 135; Cow-
per, 169; Burns, 171; Summary,
264-266.
Nature, Feeling for in Scottish Poetry,
see Veitch.
Nature, Poetic Interpretation of, see
Shairp.
Nicholson, Francis, see Painting, 237.
Night, see Sky.
Night Piece on Death, see Parnell.
Night Thoughts, see Young, Edward.
Nightingale, The, see Lady Winchel-
sea.
Nocturnal Revery, see Lady Winchel-
sea.
Norris, James: see Painting, 233.
Ocean, The, see Young, Edward.
Ocean: Dislike of in classical period,
14-16, 48; Feeling for in Gay, 59;
Thomson, 89; Mallett, 97; Young,
14, 106; Mickle, 136; Beattie, 149;
Crabbe, 160-162; Cowper, 163, 164;
Radcliffe, 225; in Painting, 239;
Summary, 255, 256; see Diction, 39.
Odes, see Collins.
Odes, see Warton, Joseph.
Odor: J. Philips, 54; Lady Winchel-
sea, 57; Thomson, 78; Dyer, 93;
Potter, 122; Summary, 249, 250.
Old English Baron, see Reeve.
Old Manor House, see Smith, Mrs.
Ossian, Poems of, see Macpherson.
Paltock, Robert: see Fiction, 216.
Pamela, see Richardson.
་
GENERAL INDEX
287
.
Parnell, Thomas: 19, 24, 28, 30, 41,
43; Poems, 62-64; 265, 267.
Pastorals, see A. Philips.
Pastorals, see Pope.
Pastorals, Cumbrian, see Relph.
Pattison, William : Poems, 64, 65.
Pennant, Thomas: see Travels, 203–
205, 209.
Pennecuik, Alexander: 8; see Trav-
els, 195.
Percy, Bishop: 37, 141-143.
Peregrine Pickle, see Smollett.
Perry, T. S.: ix, II.
Peter Wilkins, see Paltock.
Petrarch, Letters of, 11.
Phelps, W. L.: ix, 116, 190.
Philips, Ambrose: 27, 32, 46; Poems,
55, 56; 74, 246, 248, 263, 266.
Philips, John 10, 18; Poems, 54, 247,
252, 254.
Pinkerton: 191.
Place, Francis: see Painting, 232.
Pocock, Nicholas: see Painting, 240.
Pollio, see Mickle.
Pompey the Little, see Coventry.
Pope, Alexander: viii, 1, 2, 3, 5, 6, 10,
14, 16, 24, 27, 29, 30, 36, 42, 46, 47;
Poems, 72-74; 88, 115, 126; Gar-
dens, 183-185.
Pope, Essay on, see Warton, Joseph.
Potter, R.: Poems, 121; 259, 260.
Price, Sir Uvedale: see Gardens.
Prior, Matthew: 10, 18, 24, 27, 28, 29.
Progress of Taste, see Shenstone, under
Gardens.
Radcliffe, Mrs.: see Fiction, 227–229;
242, 243, 248, 256, 259, 263, 267,
273.
Rainbow, see Sky.
Ramsay, Allan: viii; Poems, 65-70;
186, 245, 249, 250, 254, 257, 258,
261, 263.
Rasselas, see Johnson.
Reeve, Clara: see Fiction, 223.
Reliques of Ancient Poetry, see Percy.
Relph, Joseph: Pormo, 114; 249.
Repton, Humphrey : see Gardens,
181, 188, 189, 242, 243.
Rhapsody, see Broidu, Dr. John.
Riccaltoun, Robert: Poems, 71.
Richardson, Samuel: see Fiction, 215,
217, 242.
River, in Similitudes, 28–30.
Robinson Crusoe, see Defoe.
Roderick Random, see Smollett.
Romantic Movement, Beginnings of
the English, see Phelps.
Romance of a Forest, see Mrs. Radcliffe.
Rose, in Similitudes, 26.
Rousseau, Jean Jacques: 12, 125.
Rowe, Nicholas: 18.
Runciman, Alexander: see Painting.
233.
Rural Elegance, see Shenstone.
Rural Sports, see Somerville.
Ruskin, John: vi, 21, 49.
Sandby, Paul: see Painting, 233, 254.
Savage, Richard: Poems, 97-99; 249.
Schiller, Friedrich: v, 143.
Scott, John: Poems, 153-155; 158,
247, 248, 249, 254.
Sea Pieces, see Young, Edward.
Seasons, The, in Similitudes, 31.
Seasons, The, see Mendez.
Seasons, The, see Thompson.
Self-conscious statements: A. Philips
Gay, 61, 62; Ramsay, 66, 67;
Addison, 74; Dyer, 94; Shenstone,
101-102; Young, 106; Mason, 118;
Warton, J., 126, 127; Goldsmith,
148; Scott, 154; Crabbe, 159;
Burns, 172, 173; Summary, 245,
246.
Sentimental Melancholy: Pattison,
64; Blair, 115; Gray, 119; Warton,
J., 125; Warton, T., 128; Grainger,
138; Graeme, 146; Beattie, 148;
Robertson, 212.
•
{
288
TREATMENT OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
-
Sentiment de la Nature, Ea, see La-
prade.
Sentimentale und Naive Dichtung,
Ueber die, see Schiller.
Serres, Dominic: 239.
Seventeenth Century Studies, see Gosse.
Shadwell, Thomas: 4.
Shakespeare to Pope, From, see Gosse.
Shairp, J. C.: viii, 54.
Shaw, Rev. Mr.: 211.
Shenstone, William: 4, 17, 19, 23, 34,
41, 42, 43; Poems, 101-103; Gar-
dens, 186, 187; 246, 248, 249, 260,
263.
Shepherd's Week, The, see Gay.
Sheridan, Dr.: 26.
Shipwreck, The, see Falconer.
Sickness, see Thompson.
Similitudes: in classical period, 25-
32; in Thomson, 75, 76; in Ossian,
140, 141; in Ballads, 143; in Blake,
158; in Rasselas, 219; in Smollett,
219.
Simple Story, A., see Mrs. Inchbald.
Sir Charles Grandison, see Richardson.
Sir Launcelot Greaves, see Smollett.
Sky Phenomena: Indifference to in
classical period, 17-21, 48; Phrases
for sky, 39; Lady Winchelsea on,
58; Ramsay on, 68, 69; Summary,
256-258. Stars, 19, 20, 21, 59, 80,
137, 139. Moonlight, 19, 20, 21,
57, 59, 80, 98, 128, 137, 139, 149,
197, 202, 209, 212, 216, 226, 228,
239, 257. Clouds, 18, 21, 62, 69,
81, 98, 151, 152, 197, 257. Sunrise,
18, 21, 28, 32, 81, 96, 98, 100, 113,
116, 119, 149. Sunset, 18, 21, 28,
32, 58, 81, 98, 109, 113, 119, 130,
178, 202, 206, 208, 212, 227. Even-
ing, 81, 92, 109, 121, 137, 229, 257.
Night, 21, 40, 57, 63, 81, 83, 107,
125, 131, 150, 226, 257. Rainbow,
18, 98.
Smart, Christopher: Poems, 134–136.
Smith, Mrs. Charlotte: see Fiction,
225-227, 248.
Smiths of Chichester, The: see Paint-
ing, 233.
Smollett, Tobias: see Fiction, 215,
216, 217, 219, 221, 261.
Somerville, William, 19, 27, 29, 37, 38;
Poems, 100, IOI.
Song to David, see Smart.
Sonnets, see Bowles.
Sound: Lady Winchelsea, 57;
Thompson, 77, 78, 84; Brown, 131,
197; Beattie, 151; Cowper, 165;
Dr. Johnson, 210; Summary, 250-
252.
Spleen, The, see Green.
Spratt, Thomas: 28.
Spring in classical period, 21; Ad-
dison, 22; Parnell, 63; Thomson,
74, 77; Hamilton, 104; Thompson,
116; Gray, 118; T. Warton, 128;
Logan, 145; Blake, 156.
Stephen, Leslie: ix.
Sterne, Lawrence: 219, 221.
Storms: 15, 16, 17; Armstrong, 71;
Thomson, 79, 80; Collins, 109;
Beattie, 149; Brown, 197; Dr.
Johnson, 210; Summary, 258.
Streams and Rivers: in Similitudes,
28, 29; Ramsay, 69; Armstrong,
71; Thomson, 78; Dyer, 91; Aken-
side, 110; Potter, 122; Dalton, 122,
123; Mickle, 136; Bruce, 144;
Burns, 172, 173; Bowles, 177;
Brown, 199, 200; Gray, 202; Pen-
nant, 203; Gilpin, 206; Hutchin-
son, 209; Bray, 211; Summary,
250, 261, 262.
Studien zur Englischen Literatur-
geschichte, Drei, see Fischer.
Studies in Medieval Life and Litera-
ture, see McLaughlin.
Sugar Cane, The, see Grainger.
•
GENERAL INDEX
289
Sunrise, see Sky.
Sunset, see Sky.
Swift, Jonathan: 32, 61.
Symonds, John A.: ix, 21.
Taine, H. A., 50, 189.
Tartana, see Ramsay.
Task, The, see Cowper.
Temple, Sir William: 80, 81..
Theory of the Earth, Sacred, see Bur-
net.
Thompson, William ; 47; Poems, 115,
116.
Thomson, James: vii, viii; 29, 40, 41,
53; his works, 75, 76; his charac-
teristics as a poet of nature, 76–88;
his affiliations with the classical
spirit, 88, 89; his influence, 90, on
Armstrong, 70, on Mallet, 96, 97,
on Savage, 98, on Somerville, 101,
on Boyse, 106, on Thompson, 115,
on Mendez, 116, on Warton, J.,
124, on Warton, T., 126; Sum-
mary, 243-267 (passim).
Thresher's Labour, The, see Duck.
Tickell, Thomas: 11, 18, 19, 27, 38,
47.
Tom Jones, see Fielding, Henry.
Tour into Derbyshire, see Bray.
Tour in the Isle of Man, see Robert-
son.
Tour in the Isle of Wight, see Hassel.
Tour in Scotland, see Pennant.
Tours, see Young, Arthur.
Tours, see Gilpin.
Traveller, The, see Goldsmith.
Travels: Martin, 194; Brand, 194;
Pennecuik, 195; Hamilton, 195;
Bushe, 195; Brown, 195; Young,
198; Gray, 200; Pennant, 202;
Gilpin, 205; Hutchinson, 208; Dr.
Johnson, 209; Bray, 210; Shaw,
211; Hassel, 212; Robertson, 212;
Summary, 212.
Travels, Catalogue of Voyages and
see Pinkerton.
True, A.: see Lady Winchelsea.
Trees and Forest: in Similitudes, 31;
Winchelsea, 56; Dyer, 91, 92;
Hamilton, 104; Blair, 114; Potter,
121, 122; Dalton, 123; Warton,
126; Smart, 134; Ballads, 141,
142; Scott, 154; Cowper, 164,
165; Summary, 249, 260.
Tristam Shandy, see Sterne.
Vathek, see Beckford.
Veitch, John: viii, 16, 49, 73.
Vicar of Wakefield, The, see Gold-
smith.
Village, The, see Crabbe.
Village, The Deserted, see Goldsmith.
Virgil: viii, 6, 27, 36, 42, 43, 45, 46, 68.
Waller, Edmund: 1, 9, 14, 18, 19, 27,
28, 33, 34, 43.
Walpole, Horace, see Gardens, 188,
191; see Fiction, 221.
Wanderer, The, see Savage.
Warton, Joseph: Poems, 119, 124–126;
Essay on 'Pope, 126, 127, 246, 249,
256,257, 262, 263, 267.
Warton, Thomas: Poems, 128, 129,
177; 249, 256, 258, 262.
Water: in Similitudes, 28, 29.
Watts, Isaac: 6, 18, 19, 27, 33, 46.
Webber, John, see Painting, 239.
Whateley, Thomas: 183, 187.
Whitehead, William: Poems, 129,
130; 246, 267.
Wide views: J. Philips, 54; Addison,
74; Thomson, 83; Dyer, 93; Mal-
let, 96; Jago, 117: Warton, J., 126;
Warton, T., 128; Langhorne, 132;
Bruce, 144; Beattie, 148; Scott,
155; Cowper, 165, 166; Brown,
197; Young, 199; Pennant, 203;
Bray, 210; Radcliffe, 228; Sum-
mary, 256.
-
290
treatment OF NATURE IN ENGLISH POETRY
ཐ་
Winter: in classical period, 16, 17:
Armstrong, 70, 71; Riccaltoun,
72; Thomson, 79, 80; Ballads, 142;
Cowper, 169; Burns, 171.
Young, Arthur: see Travels, 198–200,
256.
Young, Edward: Poems, 106-108,
265.
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