In poetry,
in art, if you enter into their true spirit at all, you touch this
principle in a measure; these, by their sterility, are a type of
beholding for the mere joy of beholding. To treat life in the spirit
of art is to make life a thing in which means and ends are identified:
to encourage such treatment, the true moral significance of art and
poetry. Wordsworth, and other poets who have been like him in ancient
or more recent times, are the masters, the experts, in this art of
impassioned contemplation. Their work is not to teach lessons, or
enforce rules, or even to stimulate us to noble ends, but to withdraw
the thoughts for a while from the mere machinery of life, to fix them,
with appropriate emotions, on the spectacle of those great facts in
man's existence which no machinery affects, 'on the great and
universal passions of men, the most general and interesting of their
occupations, and the entire world of nature'--on 'the operations of
the elements and the appearances of the visible universe, on storm and
sunshine, on the revolutions of the seasons, on cold and heat, on loss
of friends and kindred, on injuries and resentments, on gratitude and
hope, on fear and sorrow.' To witness this spectacle with appropriate
emotions is the aim of all culture; and of these emotions poetry like
Wordsworth's is a great nourisher and stimulant. He sees nature full
of sentiment and excitement; he sees men and women as parts of nature,
passionate, excited, in strange grouping and connection with the
grandeur and beauty of the natural world:--images, in his own words,
'of men suffering, amid awful forms and powers.'

Certainly the real secret of Wordsworth has never been better expressed.
After having read and reread Mr. Pater's essay--for it requires
re-reading--one returns to the poet's work with a new sense of joy and
wonder, and with something of eager and impassioned expectation. And
perhaps this might be roughly taken as the test or touchstone of the
finest criticism.

Finally, one cannot help noticing the delicate instinct that has gone to
fashion the brief epilogue that ends this delightful volume. The
difference between the classical and romantic spirits in art has often,
and with much over-emphasis, been discussed. But with what a light sure
touch does Mr. Pater write of it! How subtle and certain are his
distinctions! If imaginative prose be really the special art of this
century, Mr. Pater must rank amongst our century's most characteristic
artists. In certain things he stands almost alone. The age has produced
wonderful prose styles, turbid with individualism, and violent with
excess of rhetoric. But in Mr. Pater, as in Cardinal Newman, we find the
union of personality with perfection. He has no rival in his own sphere,
and he has escaped disciples. And this, not because he has not been
imitated, but because in art so fine as his there is something that, in
its essence, is inimitable.

Appreciations, with an Essay on Style. By Walter Pater, Fellow of
Brasenose College. (Macmillan and Co.)

PRIMAVERA

(Pall Mall Gazette, May 24, 1890.