' when I think of thee, and what thou art
Verily, in the bottom of my heart,

Of those unfilial fears I am ashamed.
For dearly must we prize thee; we who find
In thee a bulwark of the cause of men;
And I by my affection was beguiled:
What wonder if a Poet now and then,
Among the many movements of his mind,
Felt for thee as a lover or a child!'

It is only because England, and only so far as England, is 'a bulwark of the cause of men,' that he can put his whole self, mind and heart and soul, into the struggle. All through, the appeal of his Sonnets is a spiritual appeal, more than worthy of Milton, whose Sonnets, read to him by his sister in May 1802, were his immediate inspiration. The thing that moved him was what moves the best men to-day-the great issue between a universal despotism, alien, lawless, the mere creature of force, and the liberties of the European nations, whether inherited from the past or to be won from the future. That made the Swiss question, which produced what is perhaps the finest of all the Sonnets, so decisive for him:

'Two Voices are there; one is of the sea,

One of the mountains; each a mighty Voice.
In both from age to age thou didst rejoice;
They were thy chosen music, Liberty!
There came a Tyrant, and with holy glee

Thou fought'st against him, but hast vainly striven;
Thou from thy Alpine holds at length art driven,
Where not a torrent murmurs heard by thee.
Of one deep bliss thine ear hath been bereft ;
Then cleave, O cleave to that which still is left;
For, high-souled Maid, what sorrow would it be
That mountain floods should thunder as before,
And Ocean bellow from his rocky shore,

And neither awful Voice be heard by thee!'

And that is what makes the greatness of his pamphlet on the Convention of Cintra. He saw what so few of the statesmen saw, that this alliance with the peoples of Spain and Portugal had a hope in it, because it had a spiritual value in it, which the subsidising treaties with Continental sovereigns could not have. In his view the

Continental alliances might or might not be prudent expedients; the Spanish war was a thing of a higher order altogether, not an expedient but an act of principle; something into which faith and hope could throw themselves with a vision of new life. And the result proved that it was he and not the statesmen who were right. So soon as the Allies began to build on the principle of nationality, the end began to be in sight. What defeated Napoleon was not the resolve of the sovereigns to retain their property, but the resolve of England to be England, of Spain to be Spain, of Germany to be Germany, of Russia to be Russia. And it is scarcely too much to say, as Mr Dicey has lately said, in his interesting Introduction to a reprint of Wordsworth's Tract, that the policy of England has been markedly successful so far as it has coincided with the statesmanship of Wordsworth,' whom he calls the first of English Nationalists,' and not very successful so far as it has followed other lines.

It is following Wordsworth supremely to-day in what is, we may hope, the final struggle, under the guidance, as it has strangely and fortunately happened, of a Foreign Minister who is well-known to be, what Mr Acland calls him in his dedication, 'a life-long lover of Wordsworth.' Our cause is essentially the same. If we are asked what we are fighting for to-day, no doubt it is partly, now as then, for what Pitt defined in one word, 'security.' But, now as then, that is far from being all. If it were all, we should not have the Allies we have; we should not be watched as we are watched by eager eyes of passionate sympathy in all the countries where freedom is loved throughout the world; we should not be conscious, as Wordsworth was and we also may humbly be, of spiritual forces fighting on our side. We believe, as Wordsworth believed, that our enemy's triumph would be the destruction of men's highest hopes for the political future of the world. We go back to Wordsworth because our position is so like his. And, if our position is so like, we must remember that so also are our duties. What did he insist upon through all those awful years when England stood, often without an ally, against the greatest military genius the world has ever seen? First of all on perseverance. We ought not to make peace with France on any account,' he wrote, 'till she is humiliated and her

6

power brought within reasonable bounds.' That is strong language, but the man who called Carnage 'God's daughter' was no mincer of phrases. He was a poet, and he need not be interpreted as if he were writing a scientific treatise. But he meant, and all that is wisest and strongest in England means to-day, that we ought not to think of resting till our work is done and the liberties of Europe are no longer in danger.

The second thing on which he insisted was hope:

'Hope, the paramount duty that Heaven lays,

For its own honour, on man's suffering heart.'

'I began with hope,' he said in 1808, and hope has inwardly accompanied me to the end.' And so in the Tract on Cintra :

'There is a spiritual community binding together the living and the dead; the good, the brave, the wise of all ages. We would not be rejected from this community; and therefore do we hope. We look forward with erect mind, thinking and feeling; it is an obligation of duty; take away the sense of it, and the moral being would die within us' (pp. 187-8).

His is no cheap or easy optimism:

'We know the arduous strife, the eternal laws
To which the triumph of all good is given,

High sacrifice and labour without pause
Even to the death.'

So his Happy Warrior is

'doomed to go in company with Pain,

And Fear, and Bloodshed,'

and the people of England, as he sees them, are ready, without fear or flinching, to be

'left alone,

The last that dare to struggle with the Foe.'

And indeed he and his England had a harder task to face in that duty of hope than we have. Instead of standing alone, as they often did, we have more than half Europe with us. We have seen no mutinies of the Navy, as they saw; where they saw some of their greatest men

openly sympathising with the enemy, we have had the supreme blessing of a united nation. Those who have been reading the very interesting correspondence of Lord Granville Leveson Gower just given us by Lady Granville will have been struck at once with horror and with a thankful sense of contrast. Then, even so late as 1813, people like Lord Holland were wishing for French victories; to-day not even our obscurest cranks wish success to the Germans. 'In Britain is one breath,' said Wordsworth, seeing the ideal Britain and not the real. But what was not true then is true to-day. After a moment's hesitation the whole nation rallied to the great call; and one of the most distinguished of the Liberals, who had hesitated during the critical days of decision and publicly expressed his hesitation, could write to a friend a fortnight later, after the Belgian crime, and find Wordsworth's 'In Britain is one breath' the inevitable phrase in which to declare his recognition of the war as a war of justice, and the national cause as the cause of liberty and right. He and thousands of others would not have felt as they did and would not have thought of going to Wordsworth to utter what they felt, if they had not seen this war, as Wordsworth saw that of his day, as a struggle with the powers of darkness. Belgium opened their eyes. And the very blankness of her desolation, the utter and visible failure of all material means to avert her ruin, made them turn, like Wordsworth, to a deeper, a more inward consolation, at once a faith, a vision, and a call to arms; made them say to Belgium and to all who had died or were to die for her and for the cause which she sanctified by her martyrdom:

"Thou hast left behind

Powers that will work for thee; air, earth and skies;

There's not a breathing of the common wind

That will forget thee; thou hast great allies:

Thy friends are exultations, agonies,

And love, and man's unconquerable mind.'

JOHN BAILEY.

Art. 8.-SOLDIERS AND SAILORS ON THE LAND.

1. Part I of the Final Report of the Departmental Committee to consider the Settlement or Employment on the Land in England and Wales of Discharged Soldiers and Sailors. [Cd. 8182.] Wyman, 1916.

2. Agriculture after the War. By A. D. Hall. Murray, 1916. 3. Farm Work for Discharged Soldiers. By Harold E. Moore. King, 1916.

4. The Ex-Soldier, by Himself. By W. G. Clifford (late R.A.). Black, 1916.

THE Departmental Committee on Land Settlement for soldiers and sailors has reported in favour of a system of cooperative colonies; and, at the time of writing, a Bill is before Parliament to carry their recommendations into effect. The Committee suggests three types of settlement, distinguished by the various branches of the agricultural industry for which they will be respectively organised. One is to be for fruit and market gardening; another for dairying; a third for mixed farming. The first two types have been already tried. But the lastnamed is really a new and an interesting experiment. If a cooperative colony of small-holders can successfully compete with a well-organised large farm in the cheap production of bread and meat, one reasonable and indeed formidable objection to the extension of the small-holding movement will be removed. But to make the experiment of any value in this direction it must be strictly conducted on business lines. Colonists and tenant-farmers must be working under the same conditions, or the test will be unfair. The Committee very wisely makes a modest beginning. For the establishment of one of each of the three types of colonies 5000 acres of land are required. Those soldiers or sailors who have been already accustomed to agricultural work will be settled at once upon holdings in their own occupation within the colony; those who have had little or no previous experience will be trained by working at weekly wages. Each colony is to be managed by a resident director; and expert advice, guidance, and instruction are provided by agricultural or horticultural instructors.

The Government proposal strongly appeals to public