{"id":100446,"date":"2023-06-08T12:26:52","date_gmt":"2023-06-08T18:26:52","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/danpeterson\/?p=100446"},"modified":"2023-06-10T15:32:59","modified_gmt":"2023-06-10T21:32:59","slug":"intimations-of-antemortality","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/danpeterson\/2023\/06\/intimations-of-antemortality.html","title":{"rendered":"Intimations of Antemortality"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<\/head>

\u00a0<\/p>\n

\"A<\/a>
The Swan Hotel in Newby Bridge, Cumbria, where our group is staying tonight as well as eating dinner and breakfast.\u00a0 (Wikimedia Commons public domain image by David Dixon)<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

After a long day\u2019s drive via country roads from Edinburgh via Hadrian\u2019s Wall and the small market town of Alston, which has a Latter-day Saint historical connection, we\u2019ve finally arrived at the justly famous Lake District, which is known not only for its beauty but for its association with William Wordsworth (1770-1850) and other notable poets and writers associated with English Romanticism.\u00a0 Not very far from us is Dove Cottage, in the village of Grasmere, which is famous as the home between 1799 and 1808 of Wordsworth; his wife, Mary; and his writer-sister, Dorothy.\u00a0 Much of Wordsworth\u2019s most famous poetry, including \u201cIntimations of Immortality\u201d (see below) and \u201cI Wandered Lonely as a Cloud\u201d (aka \u201cDaffodils\u201d)<\/a>, came from this place of \u201cplain living, but high thinking.\u201d<\/p>\n

Dove Cottage would be sacred enough to devotees of English literature were it only for the residence there of the Wordsworths. \u00a0But it rapidly became a center of the English Romantic movement, hosting frequent visits and sometimes lengthy stays by such people as Samuel Taylor Coleridge<\/a>, Robert Southey<\/a>, Sir Walter Scott<\/a>, Charles<\/a> and Mary Lamb<\/a>, Thomas De Quincey<\/a>, and, added into the bargain, the notable chemist Sir Humphry Davy<\/a>. \u00a0In fact, De Quincey succeeded to the ownership of Dove Cottage, which he retained from 1809 to 1835.<\/p>\n

You can perhaps understand why I\u2019m in a Wordsworthian mood.\u00a0 I always<\/em> am when I come here.<\/p>\n

So \u2014 nobody\u2019s forcing<\/em> you to read this! \u2014 I\u2019m going to share a couple of my favorite passages from him.\u00a0 The first comes from his \u201cLines Composed a Few Miles Above Tintern Abbey\u201d (or, to be more full and exact, from his \u201cLines Composed a Few Miles Above Tintern Abbey, On Revisiting the Banks of the Wye During a Tour, July 13, 1798\u201d). \u00a0In this passage, Wordsworth tells how he has moved from a simple youthful veneration of wild nature to a perception that nature somehow points to something vast, perhaps even something divine, that lies beyond itself.<\/p>\n

\u2014 I cannot paint<\/span>
\n What then I was. The sounding cataract<\/span>
\n Haunted me like a passion: the tall rock,<\/span>
\n The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood,<\/span>
\n Their colours and their forms, were then to me<\/span>
\n An appetite; a feeling and a love,<\/span>
\n That had no need of a remoter charm,<\/span>
\n By thought supplied, not any interest<\/span>
\n Unborrowed from the eye.\u2014 That time is past,<\/span>
\n And all its aching joys are now no more,<\/span>
\n And all its dizzy raptures. Not for this<\/span>
\n Faint I, nor mourn nor murmur: other gifts<\/span>
\n Have followed; for such loss, I would believe,<\/span>
\n Abundant recompense. For I have learned<\/span>
\n To look on nature, not as in the hour<\/span>
\n Of thoughtless youth; but hearing oftentimes<\/span>
\n The still, sad music of humanity,<\/span>
\n Nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power<\/span>
\n To chasten and subdue. And I have felt<\/span>
\n A presence that disturbs me with the joy<\/span>
\n Of elevated thoughts; a sense sublime<\/span>
\n Of something far more deeply interfused,<\/span>
\n Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns,<\/span>
\n And the round ocean, and the living air,<\/span>
\n And the blue sky, and in the mind of man:<\/span>
\n A motion and a spirit, that impels<\/span>
\n All thinking things, all objects of all thought,<\/span>
\n And rolls through all things. Therefore am I still<\/span>
\n A lover of the meadows and the woods,<\/span>
\n And mountains; and of all that we behold<\/span>
\n From this green earth; of all the mighty world<\/span>
\n Of eye, and ear,\u2014 both what they half create,<\/span>
\n And what perceive; well pleased to recognise<\/span>
\n In nature and the language of the sense<\/span>
\n The anchor of my purest thoughts, the nurse,<\/span>
\n The guide, the guardian of my heart, and soul<\/span>
\n Of all my moral being.<\/span><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

And then there\u2019s the passage immediately below, from Wordsworth\u2019s \u201cOde: Intimations of Immortality from Early Childhood.\u201d\u00a0 It was once, at least, very well known to Latter-day Saints. \u00a0This was because Elder Richard L. Evans, then of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles was an Anglophile and a lover of English literature, and because, along with Claire Whittaker and Scott Whittaker, he wrote the script for Man\u2019s Search for Happiness<\/em>, the film that was shown in the Mormon Pavilion at the 1964 World\u2019s Fair in New York City and then extensively used thereafter by missionaries and in Church visitor centers.<\/p>\n

I don\u2019t know how many members of the Church are familiar with the passage today, but it\u2019s still an eloquent statement of belief in at least some form of pre-mortal existence.<\/p>\n

\n
Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting:<\/span><\/div>\n
The Soul that rises with us, our life\u2019s Star,<\/span><\/div>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Hath had elsewhere its setting,<\/span><\/div>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 And cometh from afar:<\/span><\/div>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Not in entire forgetfulness,<\/span><\/div>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 And not in utter nakedness,<\/span><\/div>\n
But trailing clouds of glory do we come<\/span><\/div>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 From God, who is our home.<\/span><\/div>\n<\/blockquote>\n
I think it valuable, though, to try to understand the fuller context of that quoted passage from \u201cIntimations.\u2019\u00a0 In the poem previously cited, \u201cLines Composed a Few Miles Above Tintern Abbey,\u201d Wordsworth propounds the view that, although his experience of nature is admittedly not as immediate and passionate as it was during his youth, there are compensations.\u00a0 He now understands that experience in a deeper and more reflective way.\u00a0 In \u201cIntimations,\u201d though, no compensation is mentioned.\u00a0 Instead, Wordsworth laments the fact that, as he ages, the immediacy. the evocative power, and the glory of nature have diminished for him.\u00a0 They once made him acutely aware of he fact that his true home was elsewhere. Now, though, he has adjusted to the world and feels too much at home here in mortality:<\/div>\n
\n
There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,<\/div>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The earth, and every common sight,<\/div>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 To me did seem<\/div>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Apparelled in celestial light,<\/div>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The glory and the freshness of a dream.<\/div>\n
It is not now as it hath been of yore;\u2014<\/div>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Turn wheresoe\u2019er I may,<\/div>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 By night or day.<\/div>\n
The things which I have seen I now can see no more.<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The Rainbow comes and goes,<\/div>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 And lovely is the Rose,<\/div>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The Moon doth with delight<\/div>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Look round her when the heavens are bare,<\/div>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Waters on a starry night<\/div>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Are beautiful and fair;<\/div>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The sunshine is a glorious birth;<\/div>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 But yet I know, where\u2019er I go,<\/div>\n
That there hath past away a glory from the earth. . . .<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
\n
Both of them speak of something that is gone;<\/div>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The Pansy at my feet<\/div>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Doth the same tale repeat:<\/div>\n
Whither is fled the visionary gleam?<\/div>\n
Where is it now, the glory and the dream?<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
\n
Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting:<\/div>\n
The Soul that rises with us, our life\u2019s Star,<\/div>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Hath had elsewhere its setting,<\/div>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 And cometh from afar:<\/div>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Not in entire forgetfulness,<\/div>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 And not in utter nakedness,<\/div>\n
But trailing clouds of glory do we come<\/div>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 From God, who is our home:<\/div>\n
Heaven lies about us in our infancy!<\/div>\n
Shades of the prison-house begin to close<\/div>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Upon the growing Boy,<\/div>\n
But he beholds the light, and whence it flows,<\/div>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 He sees it in his joy;<\/div>\n
The Youth, who daily farther from the east<\/div>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Must travel, still is Nature\u2019s Priest,<\/div>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 And by the vision splendid<\/div>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Is on his way attended;<\/div>\n
At length the Man perceives it die away,<\/div>\n
And fade into the light of common day.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/blockquote>\n

These are powerful, powerful words \u2014 true<\/em> words \u2014 and they were composed here in the Lake District.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

Posted from Newby Bridge, Cumbria, England<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n<\/body><\/html>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\u00a0 \u00a0 After a long day\u2019s drive via country roads from Edinburgh via Hadrian\u2019s Wall and the small market town of Alston, which has a Latter-day Saint historical connection, we\u2019ve finally arrived at the justly famous Lake District, which is known not only for its beauty but for its association with William Wordsworth (1770-1850) and […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1019,"featured_media":100448,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[36216,36212,36210,4958,36214,19514],"class_list":["post-100446","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-english-romantic","tag-intimations-of-immortality","tag-lake-district","tag-pre-mortal","tag-tintern-abbey","tag-wordsworth"],"yoast_head":"\nIntimations of Antemortality<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"    After a long day's drive via 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