THE POETICAL WORKS OF
THOMAS TRAHERNE
[Illustration: Facsimile of the original MS. of one of Traherne's
Poems]
THE POETICAL WORKS OF
THOMAS TRAHERNE
1636?-1674
FROM THE ORIGINAL MANUSCRIPTS
EDITED BY
BERTRAM DOBELL
_WITH A MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR_
SECOND EDITION
"I give you the end of a golden string,
Only wind it into a ball,
It will lead you in at Heaven's gate
Built in Jerusalem's wall."
_William Blake_
"Heaven lies about us in our infancy."
_William Wordsworth_
LONDON
PUBLISHED BY THE EDITOR
77 CHARING CROSS ROAD, W.C.
1906
TO
G. THORN DRURY
My youth was ever constant to one dream,
Though hope failed oft--so hopeless did it seem--
That in the ripeness of my days I might
Something achieve that should the world requite
For my existence; for it was a pain
To think that I should live and live in vain:
And most my thoughts were turned towards the Muse,
Though long she did my earnest prayers refuse,
And left me darkling and despairing; then
By happy chance there came within my ken
A hapless poet, whom--I thank kind fate!--
It was my privilege to help instate
In that proud eminence wherein he shines
Now that no more on earth he sadly pines.
This was a fortune such as I must ever
Be thankful for--yet still 'twas my endeavour,
With what, I hope, was no unworthy zeal,
My life-work with some other deed to seal,
And lo! when such a dream might well seem vain,
Propitious fate smiled on me once again,
And through the mists of time's close-woven pall
A glint of light on one dim form did fall,
Which, as I gazed more earnestly, became
A living soul, discovered by the flame
Of glowing inspiration which possessed
Even now, as when he lived, the poet's breast.
Did I deceive myself? Could it be true
A new poetic star was in my view,
And shining with a lustre bright and clear,
Where, constellated in the heavenly sphere,
Herbert and Vaughan, Crashaw and Milton shine
With varying brightness, yet alike divine?
I gazed again, but still that star burned on,
And ever with a deeper radiance shone,
Until I knew no Will-o'-th'-Wisp's false light,
No meteor delusive mocked my sight,
But 'twas indeed a fulgent planet which
Henceforth shall with its beams the heavens enrich.
Some vanity, I know, is in this strain,
But men may be with reason sometimes vain:
Shall he alone who does a worthy deed
Not pay himself, if so he will, that meed
Of self-applause from which all virtues spring,--
Without it who would do a noble thing?
So let the world arraign me as it will,
It cannot now my satisfaction chill,
Since you, dear friend! and all whose praise I prize,
Look on my labours with approving eyes.
This book to you 'tis fit I dedicate
Since you, my friend, so well appreciate--
Nay, rather love, our poets of old time,
Responding ever to their notes sublime:
Who, though you treasure most those sons of light,
Whose radiance glitters on the brow of night,
Do not despise the faintest twinkling star
That shines where Shakespeare, Spenser, Milton are:
Who can, like Lamb, a brilliant flower descry
Where all seems sterile to the common eye,
Who, like Lamb, too, to no strait bounds confined,
Have room for all fair fancies in your mind,
And, with a taste that never errs, discover
Faults like a censor, beauties like a lover.
Here is another offering for your store,
Though not arrayed in that brown garb of yore
Which, with quaint type and paper stained with age,
Were for the Spirit of our Poet-Sage
A fitter dwelling, more becoming page.
I could not give him these, and so have sought
To match his noble and exalted thought
With the best raiment that our time affords
Of comely type, fine paper, seemly boards,
Which, centuries hence, to our children's children's eyes
May have an antique look which they shall prize,
When Traherne's name, familiar to their ears,
Shall hold assured a place among his peers.
CONTENTS
PAGE
DEDICATION v
CONTENTS ix
INTRODUCTION xiii
THE SALUTATION 1
WONDER 4
EDEN 8
INNOCENCE 11
THE PREPARATIVE 15
THE INSTRUCTION 19
THE VISION 21
THE RAPTURE 24
THE IMPROVEMENT 26
THE APPROACH 31
DUMBNESS 34
SILENCE 38
MY SPIRIT 42
THE APPREHENSION 48
FULLNESS 49
NATURE 51
EASE 55
SPEED 58
THE CHOICE 60
THE PERSON 65
THE ESTATE 69
THE ENQUIRY 73
THE CIRCULATION 76
AMENDMENT 80
THE DEMONSTRATION 83
THE ANTICIPATION 88
THE RECOVERY 94
ANOTHER 98
LOVE 101
THOUGHTS.--I 104
THOUGHTS.--II 109
[THE INFLUX] 112
THOUGHTS.--III 115
DESIRE 119
THOUGHTS.--IV 123
GOODNESS 128
[THE SOUL'S GLORY] 132
[FINITE YET INFINITE] 134
ON NEWS 135
[THE TRIUMPH] 138
[THE ONLY ILL] 140
THE RECOVERY 142
[THE GLORY OF ISRAEL] 143
[ASPIRATION] 148
[SUPPLICATION] 152
AN HYMN UPON ST. BARTHOLOMEW'S DAY 153
POEMS FROM TRAHERNE'S "CHRISTIAN ETHICKS"--
"FOR MAN TO ACT AS IF HIS SOUL DID SEE" 156
"ALL MUSICK, SAWCES, FEASTS, DELIGHTS, AND
PLEASURES" 157
"AS IN A CLOCK 'TIS HINDER'D FORCE DOTH
BRING" 157
"WERE ALL THE WORLD A PARADISE OF EASE" 159
OF MEEKNESS 160
OF CONTENTMENT 166
"AND IF THE GLORY AND ESTEEM I HAVE" 167
APPENDIX--
BLISS 170
[LIFE'S BLESSEDNESS] 171
[THE RESURRECTION] 172
THE WAYS OF WISDOM 174
TRAHERNE'S "SERIOUS AND PATHETICALL CONTEMPLATION
OF THE MERCIES OF GOD" 179
THE WILL OF THOMAS TRAHERNE 185
Note: The poems of which the titles are
enclosed within brackets are without titles in the original
manuscripts. It seemed better to give them names, in order to
facilitate reference to them.
INTRODUCTION
It is with a more than ordinary degree of pleasure that I have
undertaken the task of introducing to readers of the present day the
writings of a hitherto unknown seventeenth-century poet. Centuries
had drawn their curtains around him, and he had died utterly, as it
seemed, out of the minds and memories of men; but the long night of
his obscurity is at length over, and his light henceforth, if I am not
much mistaken, is destined to shine with undiminished lustre as long as
England or the English tongue shall endure.
The author of the poems contained in the present volume belongs to
that small group of religious poets which includes Herbert, Vaughan,
and Crashaw, though he is much more nearly allied to the authors of
"The Temple" and "Silex Scintillans" than to the lyrist of Roman
Catholicism. Yet he is neither a follower nor an imitator of any of
these, but one who draws his inspiration from sources either peculiar
to himself or made his own by the moulding force of his own fervent
spirit. Of the inner life of the author of these poems we have
abundant and satisfactory knowledge, for it is certain that no man's
writings ever furnished a clearer or more faithful mirror of their
author's personality than do those of Thomas Traherne. But of the
outward incidents of his life little can be told, though that little
is sufficient to show that he was a man of the finest and noblest
character. Profession and practice in his case went together, and he
was no less admirable as a man than he was as a poet and a minister
of religion. That he was a person of great sweetness of disposition,
of most happy temperament, and of singularly attractive character, is
certain; and to know so much of a man is to know everything we really
need to know. We cannot help, however, craving for more than this, and
we would give much indeed for such a record of Traherne as Walton gave
of Hooker, Herbert, Donne, and Sanderson. It is likely, indeed, that
other particulars of Traherne's career will in time be discovered; but
for the present the reader must be content with the scanty details
which are given in the following pages.
I regret to say that the inquiries which I have made, or caused to be
made, as to the time and place of Thomas Traherne's birth have been, so
far, without result. Probably he was born at Hereford, since his father
was a shoemaker in that town; but this is not certain. He may have
been born at Ledbury, which is a village a few miles from Hereford,
for it seems pretty certain that his family was in some way connected
with that place. The earlier portion of the registers of that village
has been printed by the Parish Registers Society, and from this it
appears that there were "Trayernes" there in the sixteenth century.
Unfortunately, the portion of the Ledbury registers which covers the
period during which it is probable that our author was born is missing.
That also seems to be the case as regards the Hereford registers of the
same period. This is very disappointing; but we may hope that further
inquiries will prove more successful.
That the family from which the poet sprang was Welsh by descent seems
to be highly probable. It is true that the name is also found in
a slightly different form in Cornwall; but no doubt both branches
sprang from the same root at some distant period. The poet's character
and temperament, as displayed in his writings, almost proclaim his
nationality. Herbert and Vaughan, the two poets to whom he is most
near akin, were both Welsh by descent, and though neither of them is
deficient in warmth of feeling, Traherne certainly surpasses them in
the passionate fervour which he infuses into his writings. It is hardly
possible to think of them as having emanated from the cooler and less
enthusiastic Anglo-Saxon temperament.
All that I am able to say, then, as to the time of Traherne's birth is
that it was probably in the year 1636. Wood informs us that he became
a commoner of Brazennose College, Oxford, in 1652; and as the age at
which it was then usual for youths to commence their college career
was about sixteen, the above date seems the most likely one, though
it may, of course, have been a year earlier or later. His father was
in all probability the "John Traherne, Shoemaker," who is recorded to
have received, in conjunction with another person, "from Mistress Joyce
Jefferies the sum of three pounds for the shipping money."[A] This lady
is also recorded to have paid money to one John Traherne (who may or
may not have been the same person) for training as the soldier whom she
had to provide for the Trained-bands.
John Traherne, it seems likely, was related to a man of considerable
note and influence in Hereford. This was Philip Traherne (the name is
sometimes spelt Traheron), who was twice Mayor of Hereford. He was
born in 1566, and was noted for his fidelity to the cause of King
Charles I., and, to follow the eulogium upon his tombstone, "for his
fervent zeal for the Established Church and clergy, and friendly and
affectionate behaviour in conversation, which rendered him highly
valuable to all the loyal party." He was mayor of Hereford at the time
when the Scots attacked it. He died in 1645, aged 79. It would thus
appear that the Traherne family was one which occupied a fairly good
position in the middle class of the community. It would seem, however,
from a passage in Traherne's "Centuries of Meditations" ("Sitting in a
little obscure room in my father's poor house") that John Traherne's
circumstances were not very flourishing.
Of the poet's infancy and youth, the only source of information we have
is that which we find in his own writings. That the poems in which he
dwells so lovingly, and with so much enthusiasm, upon the happiness and
innocence of his infancy are somewhat coloured by the warmth of his
imagination may, perhaps, be suspected, but not, I think, with justice.
It is possible that he, to some extent, confused reflections of later
date with those which he represents himself to have experienced in his
infancy; but he was evidently a very precocious child, and the dawn of
consciousness and thought was surely much earlier in him than it is in
ordinary children. I think, therefore, we may trust the evidence of the
poems, in which he speaks of his infancy and childhood, as affording a
true, or but little idealised, picture of his early life. It might be
unsafe to depend upon the evidence of the poems if they stood alone,
but the earnestness with which he dwells upon the same topic, and
repeats in prose (in his "Centuries of Meditations") what he asserts
in his verse, is sufficiently convincing. I know of no author whose
writings convey to the reader a stronger conviction of their author's
entire sincerity and absolute truthfulness than do those of Thomas
Traherne.
Traherne's "Centuries of Meditations" consists of a series of
reflections on religious and moral subjects, divided into short
numbered paragraphs. The manuscript (which was probably written in
the last years of his life, and therefore contains his most mature
thoughts) comprises four complete "Centuries," and ten numbers of a
fifth "Century." From the fact that it was left unfinished it would
seem that his labour upon it was cut short by his death. It was written
for the benefit and instruction of a lady, a friend from whom he had
received as a present the book in which it is written. It bears the
following inscription on the first page:
"This book unto the friend of my best friend,
As of the wisest love a mark, I send,
That she may write my Maker's praise therein,
And make herself thereby a cherubim."
In the third "Century" of the "Meditations" we find many details of
the author's infancy and childhood. I cannot do better that give the
greater part of these in the author's own words:
I
Will you see the infancy of this sublime and celestial greatness?
Those pure and virgin apprehensions I had in my infancy, and that
divine light wherewith I was born, are the best unto this day
wherein I can see the universe. By the gift of God they attended
me into the world, and by His special favour I remember them
till now. Verily they form the greatest gift His wisdom could
bestow, for without them all other gifts had been dead and vain.
They are unattainable by books, and therefore I will teach them
by experience. Pray for them earnestly, for they will make you
angelical and wholly celestial. Certainly Adam in Paradise had not
more sweet and curious apprehensions of the world than I when I was
a child.
II
All appeared new and strange at first, inexpressibly rare and
delightful and beautiful. I was a little stranger which at my
entrance into the world was saluted and surrounded with innumerable
joys. My knowledge was Divine; I knew by intuition those things
which since my apostacy I collected again by the highest reason.
My very ignorance was advantageous. I seemed as one brought into
the estate of innocence. All things were spotless and pure and
glorious; yea, and infinitely mine and joyful and precious. I knew
not that there were any sins, or complaints or laws. I dreamed not
of poverties, contentions, or vices. All tears and quarrels were
hidden from mine eyes. Everything was at rest, free and immortal.
I knew nothing of sickness or death or exaction. In the absence of
these I was entertained like an angel with the works of God in their
splendour and glory; I saw all in the peace of Eden; heaven and
earth did sing my Creator's praises, and could not make more melody
to Adam than to me. All Time was Eternity, and a perpetual Sabbath.
Is it not strange that an infant should be heir of the whole world,
and see those mysteries which the books of the learned never unfold?
III
The corn was orient and immortal wheat which never should be reaped
nor was ever sown. I thought it had stood from everlasting to
everlasting. The dust and stones of the street were as precious
as gold: the gates were at first the end of the world. The green
trees when I saw them first through one of the gates transported
and ravished me; their sweetness and unusual beauty made my heart
to leap, and almost mad with ecstacy, they were such strange and
wonderful things. The Men! O what venerable and reverend creatures
did the aged seem! Immortal Cherubims! And young men glittering and
sparkling angels, and maids strange seraphic pieces of life and
beauty! Boys and girls tumbling in the street were moving jewels: I
knew not that they were born or should die. But all things abided
eternally as they were in their proper places. Eternity was manifest
in the Light of the Day, and something infinite behind everything
appeared, which talked with my expectation and moved my desire. The
City seemed to stand in Eden or to be built in Heaven. The streets
were mine, the temple was mine, the people were mine, their clothes
and gold and silver were mine, as much as their sparkling eyes,
fair skins, and ruddy faces. The skies were mine, and so were the
sun and moon and stars, and all the world was mine; and I the only
spectator and enjoyer of it. I knew no churlish proprieties, nor
bounds nor divisions; but all proprieties and divisions were mine,
all treasures and the possessors of them. So that with much ado I
was corrupted, and made to learn the dirty devices of this world,
which now I unlearn, and become, as it were, a little child again
that I may enter into the Kingdom of God.
These passages are succeeded in the MS. by the poem entitled "The
Approach," which the reader will find at page 31 of the present volume.
In the following sections of the "Meditations" the author tells how
these thoughts were first dimmed, and afterwards almost entirely lost
owing to the evil influence of those around him. It is clear that his
parents failed to appreciate the fact that their child was of a very
uncommon type, and that the ordinary methods of dealing with children
were inapplicable in his case. His early and innocent thoughts, he
says, were quite obliterated by the influence of a bad education. He
found that those around him were immersed in the trivial cares and
vanities of common life; that they were wholly wrapped up in the
outward shows of things, and were moved only by common and mercenary
motives. Alas! this is the discovery that every poet makes, and it
is this which constitutes the tragedy of life for him. Had any one,
Traherne says, spoken to him on the great and sublime truths of God and
Nature; had he been taught that God was good, and had made him the sole
heir of a glorious universe; had he been assured that earth was better
than gold, and water, every drop of it, a precious jewel, he would have
thankfully received and gladly believed the lessons. But instead of
this they tried to instil into his mind the lessons of selfishness and
worldly wisdom.
IX
It was a difficult matter to persuade me that the tinseled ware upon
a hobby horse was a fine thing. They did impose upon me and obtrude
their gifts that made me believe a ribbon or a feather curious. I
could not see where was the curiousness or fineness. And to teach me
that a purse of gold was at any value seemed impossible, the art by
which it becomes so, and the reasons for which it is accounted so
were so deep and hidden to my inexperience. So that nature is still
nearest to natural things, and farthest off from preternatural; and
to esteem that the reproach of nature is an excuse in them only who
are unacquainted with it. Natural things are glorious, and to know
them glorious; but to call things preternatural natural monstrous.
Yet all they do it who esteem gold, silver, houses, land, clothes,
&c., the riches of nature, which are indeed the riches of invention.
Nature knows no such riches, but art and error makes them. Not the
God of Nature, but sin only was the parent of them. The riches of
Nature are our souls and bodies, with all their faculties, senses,
and endowments. And it had been the easiest thing in the whole world
[to teach me] that all felicity consisted in the enjoyment of all
the world, that it was prepared for me before I was born, and that
nothing was more divine and beautiful.
Surely Traherne was here anticipating much which seems to belong to a
far later date! The doctrine here urged is in essentials the same as
that which was insisted upon by Rousseau and other philosophers of the
eighteenth century. Shelley himself hardly enforced the idea of the
return to nature more strenuously than Traherne does in this passage.
"Natural things are glorious and to know them glorious"--is not this
the whole burden of Walt Whitman's poetry? Nay, is it not the whole
burden of all poetry worthy of the name?
X
Thoughts are the most present things to thoughts, and of the most
powerful influence. My Soul was only apt and disposed to great
things; but souls to souls are like apples, one being rotten rots
another. When I began to speak and go, nothing began to be present
to me but what was present to me in their thoughts. Nor was anything
present to me any other way than it was so to them. The glass of
imagination was the only mirror wherein anything was represented or
appeared to me. All things were absent which they talked not of. So
I began among my playfellow's to prize a drum, a fine coat, a penny,
a gilded book, &c., who before never dreamed of any such wealth.
Goodly objects to drown all the knowledge of Heaven and Earth! As
for the Heavens and Sun and Stars, they disappeared, and were no
more unto me than the bare walls. So that the strange riches of
man's invention quite overcame the riches of nature, being learned
more laboriously and in the second place.
By this, Traherne proceeds, parents and nurses should learn the right
way of teaching children. Nothing is easier than to teach the truth
because the nature of the thing confirms the teaching; whereas to teach
children to value "gugaus," baubles, and rattles puts false ideas into
their heads, and blots out all noble and divine thoughts, rendering
them uncertain about everything, and dividing them from God. "Verily,"
he says, "there is no savage nation under the cope of Heaven that is
more absurdly barbarous than the Christian World.... I am sure that
those barbarous people that go naked come nearer to Adam, God, and
Angels in the simplicity of their wealth, though not in knowledge."
XIV
Being swallowed up therefore in the miserable gulf of idle talk
and worthless vanities, thenceforth I lived among shadows, like a
prodigal son feeding upon husks with swine. A comfortless wilderness
full of thorns and troubles the world was or worse: a waste place
covered with idleness and play, and shops, and markets, and taverns.
As for churches they were things I did not understand, and schools
were a burden: so that there was nothing in the world worth the
having or enjoying but my game and sport, which also was a dream,
and being passed wholly forgotten. So that I had wholly forgotten
all goodness, bounty, comfort, and glory; which things are the very
brightness of the Glory of God, for lack of which therefore He was
unknown.
XV
Yet sometimes in the midst of these dreams I should come a little
to myself, so far as to feel I wanted something, secretly to
expostulate with God for not giving me riches, to long after an
unknown happiness, to grieve that the world was so empty and to be
dissatisfied with my present state because it was vain and forlorn.
I had heard of Angels and much admired that here upon earth nothing
should be but dirt and streets and gutters. For as for the pleasures
that were in great men's houses I had not seen them: and it was my
real happiness they were unknown. For because nothing deluded me I
was the more inquisitive.
XVI
Once I remember (I think I was about four years old) when I thus
reasoned with myself. Sitting in a little obscure room in my
father's poor house: If there be a God certainly He must be Infinite
in Goodness, and that I was prompted to, by a real whispering
instinct of nature. And if He be Infinite in Goodness and a perfect
Being in Wisdom and Love, certainly He must do most glorious things
and give us infinite riches; how comes it to pass, therefore, that
I am so poor? Of so scanty and narrow a fortune, enjoying few and
obscure comforts? I thought I could not believe Him a God to me
unless all His power were employed to glorify me. I knew not then
my Soul or Body, nor did I think of the Heavens and the Earth, the
Rivers and the Stars, the Sun or the Seas: all those were lost and
absent from me. But when I found them made out of nothing for me,
then I had a God indeed whom I could praise and rejoice in.
XVII
Sometimes I should be alone and without employment, when suddenly
my Soul would return to itself, and forgetting all things in the
whole world which mine eyes had seen, would be carried away to the
end of the earth, and my thoughts would be deeply engaged with
inquiries--How the Earth did end? Whether walls did bound it or
sudden precipices? Or whether the Heavens by degrees did come to
touch it, so that the faces of the Earth and Heaven were so near
that a man with difficulty could creep under? Whatever I could
imagine was inconvenient, and my reason being posed was quickly
wearied. What also upheld the Earth (because it was heavy) and kept
it from falling; whether pillars or dark waters? And if any upheld
these, what then upheld those, and what again those, of which I saw
there would be no end? Little did I think that the Earth was round
and the World so full of Beauty, Light, and Wisdom. When I saw
that, I knew by the perfection of the work there was a God, and was
satisfied and rejoiced. People underneath and fields and flowers,
with another Sun and another Day pleased me mightily; but more when
I knew it was the same Sun that served them by Night that served us
by day.
XVIII
Sometimes I should soar above the stars, and inquire how the Heavens
ended, and what was beyond them? Concerning which by no means could
I receive satisfaction. Sometimes my thoughts would carry me to the
Creation, for I had heard now that the World which at first I had
thought was Eternal had a beginning: how therefore that beginning
was, and why it was; why it was no sooner, and what was before,
I mightily desired to know. By all which I easily perceived my
Soul was made to live in communion with God in all places of His
dominion, and to be satisfied with the highest reason in all things.
After which it so eagerly aspired that I thought all the gold and
silver in the world but dirt in comparison of satisfaction in any
of these. Sometimes I wondered why men were made no bigger? I would
have had a man as big as a giant, a giant as big as a castle, and a
castle as big as the Heavens. Which yet would not serve, for there
was infinite space beyond the Heavens, and all was defective and but
little in comparison; and for man to be made infinite, I thought it
would be to no purpose, and it would be inconvenient. Why also there
was not a better Sun and better Stars, a better Sea, and better
Creatures I much admired. Which thoughts produced that poem upon
moderation which afterwards was written.
Following this the author quotes a part of the poem he refers to,
which, as it is printed on page 132, need not be given here. The
argument of his verses is that everything is for the best and in the
best possible proportion:
"God made man greater while he made him less."
XXII
These liquid clear satisfactions were the emanations of the
highest reason, but not achieved till a long time afterwards. In
the meantime I was sometimes, though seldom, visited and inspired
with new and more vigorous desires after that Bliss which Nature
whispered and suggested to me. Every new thing quickened my
curiosity, and raised my expectation. I remember once, the first
time I came into a magnificent and noble dining-room and was left
there alone, I rejoiced to see the gold and state and carved
imagery, but when all was dead and there was no motion, I was
weary of it and departed dissatisfied. But afterwards when I saw
it full of lords and ladies and music and dancing, the place which
once seemed not to differ from a solitary den had now entertainment
and nothing of tediousness in it. By which I perceived (upon a
reflection made long after) that men and women are, when well
understood, a principal part of our true felicity. By this I found
also that nothing that stood still could, by doing so, be a part of
Happiness: and that affection, though it were invisible, was the
best of motions. But the august and glorious exercise of virtue was
more solemn and divine, which yet I saw not. And that all men and
angels should appear in Heaven.
XXIII
Another time, in a lowering and sad evening, being alone in the
field, when all things were dead and quiet, a certain want and
horror fell upon me, beyond imagination. The unprofitableness and
silence of the place dissatisfied me, its wildness terrified me;
from the utmost ends of the earth fears surrounded me. How did I
know but dangers might suddenly arise from the East, and invade me
from the unknown regions beyond the seas? I was a weak and little
child and had forgotten there was a man alive in the earth. Yet
something also of hope and expectation comforted me from every
border. This taught me that I was concerned in all the world: and
that in the remotest borders the causes of peace delight me, and
the beauties of the earth, when seen, were made to entertain me:
that I was made to hold a communion with the secrets of Divine
Providence in all the world: that a remembrance of all the joys I
had from my birth ought always to be with me: that the presence of
Cities, Temples, and Kingdoms ought to sustain me, and that to be
alone in the world was to be desolate and miserable. The comfort of
houses and friends, and the clear assurance of treasures everywhere,
God's care and love, His Wisdom, Goodness, and Power, His Presence
and watchfulness in all the ends of the earth were my strength and
assurance for ever: and that those things being absent to my eye
were my joys and consolations: as present to my understanding as the
wideness and emptiness of the Universe which I saw before me.
XXIV
When I heard of any new Kingdom beyond the seas the light and glory
of it entered into me, it rose up within me, and I was enlarged
wonderfully. I entered into it, I saw its commodities, springs,
meadows, riches, inhabitants, and became possessor of that new
room as if it had been prepared for me, so much was I magnified
and delighted in it. When the Bible was read my spirit was present
in other ages. I saw the light and splendour of them, the Land of
Canaan, the Israelites entering into it, the ancient glory of the
Amorites, their peace and riches, their cities, houses, vines,
and fig-trees, the long prosperity of their Kings, their milk and
honey, their slaughter and destruction, with the joys and triumphs
of God's people. All which entered into me, and God among them. I
saw all and felt all in such a lively manner as if there had been
no other way to those places but in spirit only. This shewed me
the liveliness of interior presence, and that all ages were for
most glorious ends accessible to my understanding, yea with it, yea
within it. For without changing place in myself I could behold and
enjoy all those. Anything, when it was proposed, though it was a
thousand ages ago being always before me.
Some few other passages relating to Traherne's boyhood might be quoted;
but as I hope soon to publish the "Centuries of Meditations" in
complete form, it is hardly necessary to give further extracts here. I
have quoted enough, I trust, to create a desire in the reader's mind to
see the whole work in print. I have found the narrative so interesting
myself that I would fain hope it will be not less so to others. It
displays with a vividness seldom equalled the eager, enthusiastic,
thoughtful, affectionate, and, above all, poetic character of its
author. It was doubtless because he retained in his manhood so much of
the fresh, unspoiled, and uncorrupted spirit of his youth that he was
able to give such an engaging picture of his early years. It bears the
stamp of veracity and sincerity in every line; and leaves no room in
the reader's mind (as so many autobiographies do) for the suspicion
that the author was posing himself in the most favourable light, and
suppressing the darker shades of his portraiture. I do not think there
is anything resembling it in English literature; nor could more than
one or two other English poets have written such a narrative. It is
fortunate indeed that the "Centuries of Meditations," which so narrowly
escaped destruction or oblivion, should have been preserved to afford
us this valuable record of the inner life of a spirit touched to such
fine issues as was that of Thomas Traherne.
Turning from the brilliant illumination of our author's own account
of his youthful experiences it is very disappointing to find that no
information about him from external sources can be discovered before
the time when he became an Oxford undergraduate. But we may, I think,
conclude with little chance of error that the course of his early life
was somewhat as follows: His parents, seeing the precocity and unusual
promise of their child, determined to give him the best education
within their power, and therefore sent him to the local Grammar School.
This was founded by Bishop Gilbert in 1386. While there he must have
distinguished himself so much by his good conduct and aptitude for
learning that some patron--or perhaps some of his relatives who were
in a better position than his father--furnished the means to enable
him to proceed to Oxford and become a student there. His course at the
University is thus related in the _Athenæ Oxonienses_:
Thomas Traherne, a shoemaker's son of Hereford, was entered a
Commoner of Brasen-nose College on the first day of March, 1652,
took one degree in Arts, left the House for a time, entered into the
sacred function, and in 1661 he was actually created Master of Arts.
About that time he became Rector of Credinhill, commonly called
Crednell, near to the city of Hereford ... and in 1669 Bachelor of
Divinity.
To the above it may perhaps be as well to add the exact dates of the
degrees bestowed upon him at the University. He was made Bachelor of
Arts on October 13, 1656; Master of Arts on November 6, 1661; and
Bachelor of Divinity on December 11, 1669. Why or when he "left the
House for a time" does not appear; possibly it was on account of the
political troubles of the period.
When at the University we may be certain that Traherne's inclination
and natural genius would lead him to study for the ministry; and he
was undoubtedly an earnest and diligent student of the history and
doctrines of the Christian faith, and more especially of those of the
Church of England. He found in that communion his ideal Church. We
have seen that Philip Traherne, the Mayor of Hereford, was noted for
his "fervent zeal for the Established Church and clergy"--and probably
we shall not be wrong in thinking that the Trahernes generally were
members of the English Church. That circumstance doubtless had its
influence in determining the faith of Thomas Traherne; but his own
deeply fervent and religious nature found in the national faith, as
George Herbert had found before him, the peace and satisfaction which
he could find nowhere else. That the Anglican Church can boast of
having attracted to its service such fine spirits as those of Herbert,
Vaughan, Traherne, and the many others that might be mentioned, is
surely one of its greatest honours.
We have the evidence of Antony à Wood and that of Traherne's book
entitled "Roman Forgeries" to prove that he was an unwearied student
of the antiquities of the Church, of its Fathers, Councils, and
Doctrines. But the best evidence on this point is to be found in the
"Advertisement to the Reader" prefixed to "Roman Forgeries." Herein
the author gives us a lively account of a discussion which took place
between himself and a Roman Catholic gentleman on the questions in
dispute between the two Churches. This passage must be quoted in full,
for the story is so vividly told that the reader becomes almost a
spectator of the scene:
Before I stir further I shall add one passage which befell me in the
_Schools_ as I was studying these things, and searching the most
old and authentic records in pursuance of them. One evening as I
came out of the Bodleian Library, which is the glory of Oxford,
and this nation, at the stairs-foot I was saluted by a person that
has deserved well of scholars and learning, who being an intimate
friend of mine, told me there was a gentleman, his cousin, pointing
to a grave person, in the quadrangle, a man that had spent many
thousand pounds in promoting Popery, and that he had a desire to
speak with me. The gentleman came up to us of his own accord: we
agreed, for the greater liberty and privacy, to walk abroad into
the New Parks. He was a notable man, of an eloquent tongue, and
competent reading, bold, forward, talkative enough; he told me,
that the Church of Rome had eleven millions of martyrs, seventeen
Oecumenical Councils, above one hundred Provincial Councils, all the
Doctors, all the Fathers, Unity, Antiquity, Consent, &c. I desired
him to name _one_ of his eleven millions of martyrs, excepting
those that died for treason in Queen Elizabeth's and King James his
days: for the martyrs of the primitive times, were martyrs of the
_Catholic_, but not of the _Roman_ Church: they only being martyrs
of the Roman Church, that die for _transubstantiation_, the _Pope's
Supremacy_, the doctrine of _Merits_, _Purgatory_, and the like.
So many he told me they had, but I could not get him to name one.
As for his Councils, Antiquities and Fathers, I asked him what he
would say, if I could clearly prove that the Church of Rome was
guilty of _forging_ them, so far that they had published _Canons_
in the _Apostles_ names, and invented _Councils_ that never were,
forged _letters_ of Fathers, and _Decretal Epistles_, in the name of
the first Bishops and Martyrs of Rome, made 5, 6, 700 years after
they were dead, to the utter disguising and defacing of antiquity,
for the first 480 years next after our Saviour? "Tush, these are
nothing but lies," quoth he, "whereby the Protestants endeavour to
disgrace the Papists." Sir, answered I, you are a scholar, and have
heard of Isidore, Mercator, James Merlin, Peter Crabbe, Laurentius
Surius, Severinus Binius Labbè, Cossartius, and the Collectio Regia,
books of vast bulk and price, as well as of great majesty and
magnificence: you met me this evening at the Library door; if you
please to meet me there to-morrow morning at eight of the clock,
I will take you in; and we will go from class to class, from book
to book, and there I will first shew in your own authors, that you
publish such instruments for good _Records_: and then prove, that
those instruments are downright frauds and forgeries? "What hurt is
that to the Church of Rome?" said he. No! (cried I, amazed) Is it no
hurt to the Church of Rome, to be found guilty of _forging Canons_
in the _Apostles_ names, and _Epistles_ in the _Fathers'_ names,
which they never made? Is it nothing in _Rome_ to be guilty of
counterfeiting _Decrees_ and _Councils_, and _Records of Antiquity_?
_I have done with you!_ whereupon I turned from him as an obdurate
person. And with this I thought it meet to acquaint the Reader.
No other particulars of Traherne's University career are now available,
but those which I have related are sufficient to show that it was not
an unsuccessful one. It is plain that he made his way entirely by his
own ability, for he could have had no other means of advancing himself.
It appears from a passage in our author's "Centuries of Meditations"
that there was at one time a conflict in his mind as to his future
course in life. He debated with himself as to whether he should
pursue the path that might lead to worldly prosperity, at the cost
of sacrificing or suppressing his higher aspirations, or whether he
should, at the risk of poverty and obscurity, follow out the promptings
of his better self. Such a conflict, in his case, could have only one
result:
When I came into the country, and being seated among silent trees
and woods and hills, had all my time in mine own hands, I resolved
to spend it all, whatever it cost me, in the search of Happiness,
and to satiate the burning thirst which Nature had enkindled in me
from my youth. In which I was so resolute that I chose rather to
live upon ten pounds a year, and to go in leather clothes and to
feed upon bread and water, so that I might have all my time clearly
to myself, than to keep many thousands per annum in an estate of
life where my time would be devoured in care and labour. And God was
so pleased to accept of that desire that from that time to this I
have had all things plentifully provided for me without any care at
all, my very study of Felicity making me more to prosper than all
the care in the whole world. So that through His blessing I live a
free and a kingly life, as if the world were turned again into Eden,
or, much more, as it is at this day.
Truly a memorable resolution! which has had not too many parallels,
though the failure to make it has caused many a man of fine abilities
to fall into the ranks of those whom the world has conquered and
subdued to its own purposes. One remembers the similar resolution of
the great founder of Quakerism, which Traherne might possibly have
heard of. One thinks also of Thoreau and of his life in the woods; and
of the few others who have dared to live out their own lives in their
own way, regardless of the disdain or censure of the worldly-minded.
That nothing but good came to Traherne from his resolution we might
have been sure even if he had not himself told us so; for what harm
can come to those who are animated with such a spirit as his? The
spiritually minded derive their sustenance from the spirit, and are the
richer on the ten pounds a year which Traherne speaks of than are the
masters of untold wealth who are spiritually destitute.
At what period Traherne came to the decision which he has thus recorded
does not appear; but it seems probable it was at the time when, as
Wood tells us, he left the University for a time. Wood places the
commencement of his ministry at Credenhill at about 1661, when he was
made Master of Arts. This, however, seems to be an error. Mr. E. H.
W. Dunkin has kindly informed me that he has in his possession a copy
of a manuscript preserved at Lambeth Library (MS. 998) containing
particulars of admissions to Benefices _temp._ Commonwealth, in which
the following entry appears:
Thomas Traherne, clerk, admitted 30 Dec., 1657, by the Commissioners
for the Approbation of Public Preachers to the Rectory of Crednell,
alias Creddenhill, Co. Hereford: patron Amabella, Countess Dowager
of Kent.
In 1657 Traherne could not have been more than 21 or 22 years of
age--hardly old enough, one would think, to assume entire charge of the
parish. Possibly at first he only acted as assistant to the minister
whom he afterwards succeeded.
Of the course of Traherne's life at Credenhill nothing is now known,
but, as far as outward events were concerned, it was doubtless quiet
and uneventful. He remained there, it would appear, for rather more
than nine and a half years. Then he was summoned to London to become
private chaplain to Sir Orlando Bridgman, who, on August 30, 1667, was
created Lord Keeper of the Seals. Whether he owed his promotion to a
friend's recommendation, or whether he had, before this time, become
personally acquainted with Sir Orlando, we do not know, but it is
certain that he must henceforth have been highly esteemed and valued
by his patron. When Bridgman was, in 1672, deprived of the Seals, and
went into retirement, he still retained Traherne in his service, and
it was in his patron's house at Teddington, about three months after
the latter's decease, that he died. We may indeed feel certain that a
mutual regard and even affection existed between them; and perhaps it
is not too great a stretch of imagination to think that the death of
Traherne may have been hastened by his grief at the loss of his patron.
Sir Orlando Bridgman was not only a very able lawyer, but also an
honourable, conscientious, and upright statesman. He was, perhaps, a
little wanting in strength of character, and therefore appeared to his
contemporaries to be something of a trimmer. He was a royalist, and
remained such all through the Civil War and the Commonwealth; though it
appears that during the last years of Cromwell's reign he had in some
degree made his peace with the Protector. But he was not disposed to
be a mere tool in the hands of the Court party. He was made Keeper of
the Seals because it was supposed that he would have been subservient
to the designs of the ministry then in power; but when it was found
that he was not disposed to be a compliant tool in their hands he
was dismissed from his office. He had nothing in him of a Scroggs
or a Jeffries, and was therefore no fit instrument of the crew of
unscrupulous and corrupt intriguers who then misruled the country. That
he was of a most charitable disposition--though he has not hitherto, I
believe, received credit for the fact--we have sufficient evidence. In
Traherne's "Christian Ethicks" we find the following passage (p. 471):
"My Lord Bridgman, late Lord Keeper, confessed himself in his Will
to be but a Steward of his Estate, and prayed God to forgive all his
offences in getting, mis-spending, or not spending it as he ought to
do. And that after many Charitable and Pious Works, perhaps surmounting
his estate tho concealed from the notice or knowledge of the world."
It has been seen from one of the extracts quoted from "Centuries of
Meditations" that Traherne esteemed himself fortunate in having "all
things plentifully provided for me without any care at all, my very
study of Felicity making me more to prosper than all the care in the
whole world." That he was perfectly sincere in this statement, and that
he had all the riches and advancement he required, is certain; but very
few men, and certainly no ambitious man, under the same circumstances
would have made such a declaration. To the worldly-minded his destiny
must have seemed a poor, if not mean one. To be the parson of two small
and obscure parishes, and the private chaplain of the Keeper of the
Seals, while possessing abilities which would have adorned the highest
possible station, must have seemed, to a less happily constituted
temperament, a fate which would have justified much repining and
discontent. That Traherne was not merely contented but happy under such
circumstances is but one more proof that
Happiness to no outward cause we owe,
From inward sources only doth it flow.
The position of chaplain to Lord Bridgman must have brought Traherne
into contact with many distinguished persons of the time; but no trace
of his intercourse with them seems now to be discoverable, save in one
instance. John Aubrey, the famous gossip, to whose undiscriminating
industry we are indebted for the preservation of much chaff indeed, but
also for not a little precious wheat, in his "Miscellanies," under the
heading "Apparitions," gives us a remarkable reference to our author. I
quote the passage in full:
Mr. Trahern, B.D. (chaplain to Sir Orlando Bridgman, Lord Keeper),
a learned and sober person, was son of a shoemaker in Hereford:
one night as he lay in bed, the moon shining very bright, he saw
the phantom of one of the apprentices, sitting in a chair in his
red waistcoat, and head-band about his head, and strap upon his
knee; which apprentice was really in bed and asleep with another
fellow-apprentice, in the same chamber, and saw him. The fellow was
living, 1671. Another time, as he was in bed, he saw a basket come
sailing in the air, along by the valence of his bed; I think he
said there was fruit in the basket: it was a phantom. From himself.
It is highly probable that it was Aubrey who furnished Wood with the
account of Traherne which appears in the _Athenæ Oxonienses_, and
doubtless he could have given us much more information about him had
he chosen to do so. But he was incapable of appreciating so fine a
spirit as Traherne's; nor was the latter likely to reveal to him the
profounder depths of his nature. It is much to be regretted that Aubrey
gives us such a confused account of what he was told. The stories were
doubtless related to him at his own direct request, he being ever eager
to collect accounts of the marvellous and the supernatural. It seems
evident that Traherne attached little importance to these two visions,
purposeless as they apparently were, and as visions of the kind usually
are. No one nowadays would attribute such phantoms of the brain to any
supernatural cause, nor does it appear that Traherne himself did. I
find no trace in his writings of a belief in the common superstitions
of his time as to ghosts, witches, or evil spirits.