No More Learning

As to a selection of the text from various editions, this would
doubtless be the best plan, were it a practicable one; and perhaps it
may be attainable some day. But Wordsworth is as yet too near us for
such an editorial treatment of his Works to be successful. The
fundamental objection to it is that scarcely two minds--even among the
most competent of contemporary judges--will agree as to what the best
text is. An edition arranged on this principle could not possibly be
acceptable to more than a few persons. Of course no arrangement of any
kind can escape adverse criticism: it would be most unfortunate if it
did. But this particular edition would fail in its main purpose, if
questions of individual taste were made primary, and not secondary; and
an arrangement, which gave scope for the arbitrary selection of
particular texts,--according to the wisdom, or the want of wisdom, of
the editor,--would deservedly meet with severe criticism in many
quarters. Besides, such a method of arrangement would not indicate the
growth of the Poet's mind, and the development of his genius. If an
editor wished to indicate his own opinion of the best text for each
poem--under the idea that his judgment might be of some use to other
people--it would be wiser to do so by means of some mark or marginal
note, than by printing his selected text in the main body of the work.
He could thus at once preserve the chronological order of the readings,
indicate his own preference, and leave it to others to select what they
preferred. Besides, the compiler of such an edition would often find
himself in doubt as to what the best text really was, the merit of the
different readings being sometimes almost equal, or very nearly
balanced; and, were he to endeavour to get out of the difficulty by
obtaining the judgments of literary men, or even of contemporary poets,
he would find that their opinions would in most cases be dissimilar, if
they did not openly conflict. Those who cannot come to a final decision
as to their own text would not be likely to agree as to the merits of
particular readings in the poems of their predecessors. Unanimity of
opinion on this point is indeed quite unattainable.

Nevertheless, it would be easy for an editor to show the unfortunate
result of keeping rigorously either to the latest or to the earliest
text of Wordsworth. If, on the one hand, the latest were taken, it could
be shown that many of the changes introduced into it were for the worse,
and some of them very decidedly so. For example, in the poem 'To a
Skylark'--composed in 1825--the second verse, retained in the
editions of 1827, 1832, 1836, and 1843, was unaccountably dropped out in
the editions of 1845 and 1849.
The following is the complete poem of
1825, as published in 1827.


Ethereal Minstrel! Pilgrim of the sky!
Dost thou despise the earth where cares abound?
Or, while the wings aspire, are heart and eye
Both with thy nest upon the dewy ground?
Thy nest which thou canst drop into at will,
Those quivering wings composed, that music still!

To the last point of vision, and beyond,
Mount, daring Warbler! that love-prompted strain,
('Twixt thee and thine a never-failing bond)
Thrills not the less the bosom of the plain:
Yet might'st thou seem, proud privilege! to sing
All independent of the leafy spring.

Leave to the Nightingale her shady wood;
A privacy of glorious light is thine;
Whence thou dost pour upon the world a flood
Of harmony, with rapture more divine;
Type of the wise who soar, but never roam;
True to the kindred points of Heaven and Home!


There is no doubt that the first and third stanzas are the finest, and
some may respect the judgment that cut down the Poem by the removal of
its second verse: but others will say, if it was right that such a verse
should be removed, why were many others of questionable merit allowed to
remain? Why was such a poem as 'The Glowworm', of the edition of 1807,
never republished; while 'The Waterfall and the Eglantine', and 'To the
Spade of a Friend', were retained? To give one other illustration, where
a score are possible. In the sonnet, belonging to the year 1807,
beginning:

"Beloved Vale! " I said, "when I shall con,"

we find, in the latest text, the lines--first adopted in 1827:

I stood, of simple shame the blushing Thrall;
So narrow seemed the brooks, the fields so small,

while the early edition of 1807 contains the far happier lines:

To see the Trees, which I had thought so tall,
Mere dwarfs; the Brooks so narrow, Fields so small.

On the other hand, if the earliest text be invariably retained, some of
the best poems will be spoiled (or the improvements lost), since
Wordsworth did usually alter for the better.