he fashionable world or the dull courtesies of a country
house. But that they do not transcend this outward life we have one
crucial proof. Just in so far as each of us learns to regard his own
individual being from within, and not from without, does he discard
dependence on happiness as arising from external circumstances, and
becomes already in idea, as he tends to become in reality, his own world
and his own law. No novelist attains to the assertion of this spiritual
prerogative. As we follow in sympathy the story of his hero, we find
ourselves lifted up and cast down as fortune changes, our life
brightening as the clouds break above, and darkening as they close
again. If the author chooses to disappoint us with "a bad ending," he
leaves us, not as we are left at the conclusion of a tragedy, purified
from personal desires, but vexed and sorrowful, sadder but not wiser
men.

FOOTNOTES:

[15] "Humble and rustic life was generally chosen, because in that
condition the essential passions of the heart find a better soil in
which they can attain their maturity, are less under restraint, and
speak a plainer and more emphatic language; because in that condition of
life our elementary feelings co-exist in a state of greater simplicity,
and, consequently, may be more accurately contemplated, and more
forcibly communicated.... The language, too, of these men has been
adopted (purified indeed from what appear to be its real defects, from
all lasting and rational causes of dislike or disgust), because such men
hourly communicate with the best objects from which the best part of
language is originally derived; and because, from their rank in society
and the sameness and narrow circle of their intercourse, being less
under the influence of social vanity, they convey their feelings and
notions in simple and unelaborated expressions. Accordingly, such a
language arising out of repeated experience and regular feeling, is a
more permanent, and a far more philosophical language, than that which
is frequently substituted for it by Poets, who think that they are
conferring honor upon themselves and their art in proportion as they
separate themselves from the sympathies of men, and indulge in arbitrary
and capricious habits of expression, in order to furnish food for fickle
tastes and fickle appetites of their own creation."--Wordsworth, Preface
to the 'Lyrical Ballads.'

[16] On the relations of prose and poetry, see Alden's 'An introd