This is the tone of them; there are many such strains as these that deserve to be much better known than they are, notwithstanding the bad grammar that mingles with their innocent music. There is a serene unconsciousness of arbitrary human law in genius such as this; it floats with the lark in a 'privacy of glorious light,' where the grammatical hum of the critics cannot disturb its repose. We are reminded of the startling question of the Yorkshire orator when repudiating the bonds of syntax and pronunciation,—'Who invented grammar I should like to know? I've as much right to invent grammar as any of them!' Whatever we might concede to the Yorkshire orator, we may readily agree not to be inexorably severe in the application of our canons to the productions of such a genius as that of Blake.
There is one design given in this book, which affects the eye wonderfully, where huge intertwisted trunks writhe up one side of the page, while on the other springs, apparently, Jack's immortal laddered beanstalk, aiming at heaven; between the two, on the blank white sky, hang mystical verses, and below is a little vision of millennial rest. Naked children sport with the lion and ride the lioness in playful domination, while secure humanity sleeps at ease among them.
Yet Blake had a difficult and repulsive phase in his character. It seems a pity that men so amiable and tender, so attractive to one's desire for fellowship, should prove, on close contact, to have a side of their nature so adamantine and full of self-assertion and resistance, that they are driven at last to dwell in the small circle of friends who have the forbearance to excuse their peculiarities, and the wit to interpret their moods and minds:—
'Nor is it possible to thought
A greater than itself to know.'
In this sphinx-like and musical couplet, Blake himself hits ' the true basis of the reason why men whose genius is at once
