when this essay was written, a good many years ago, there was no available biography of wordsworth except the two-volume memoir by bishop christopher wordsworth, the poet’s nephew. it is a solid work of family piety, admiring and admirable; but it must be admitted that it is dull. it is full of matters of no particular consequence, and it leaves out events in the poet’s life and traits in his character which are not only interesting in themselves but also of real importance to a vital understanding of his work.
even while reading the memoir, i felt sure that he was not always the tranquil, patient, wise, serenely happy sage that he appeared in his later years,—sure that a joy in peace as deep and strong as his was, could only have been won through sharp conflict,—sure that the smooth portrait drawn by the reverent hand of the bishop did not fully and
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frankly depict the real man who wrote the deep and moving poetry of wordsworth.
it was about this time that the valuable studies of wordsworth’s early life which had been made by professor emile legouis, (then of the university of lyons, now of the sorbonne,) were published in english. this volume threw a new light upon the poet’s nature, revealing its intense, romantic strain, and making clear at least some of the causes which led to the shipwreck of his first hopes and to the period of profound gloom which followed his return from residence in france in december 1792.
shortly after reading professor legouis’ book, i met by chance a gentleman in baltimore and was convinced by what he told me, (in a conversation which i do not feel at liberty to repeat in detail,) that wordsworth had a grand “affair of the heart” while he lived in france, with a young french lady of excellent family and character. but they were parted. a daughter was born, (whom he legitimated according to french law,) and descendants of that daughter were living.
there was therefore solid ground for my feeling
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that the poet was not a man who had been always and easily decorous. he had passed through a time of storm and stress. he had lost not only his political dreams and his hopes of a career, but also his first love and his joy. the knowledge of this gave his poetry a new meaning for me, brought it nearer, made it seem more deeply human. it was under the influence of this feeling that this essay was written in a farmhouse in tyringham valley, where i was staying in the winter of 1897, with richard watson gilder and his wife.
since then professor george mclean harper has completed and published, (1916,) his classic book on william wordsworth, his life, works, and influence. this is undoubtedly the very best biography of the poet, and it contains much new material, particularly with reference to his life and connections in france. but there is nothing in it to shake, and on the contrary there is much to confirm, the opinion which was first put forth in this essay: namely, that the central theme, the great significance, of wordsworth’s poetry is the recovery of joy.
