The poet is not content to see how "fair
hangs the apple from the rock," "what music a sunbeam awoke in the
groves," nor of Hardiknute, how "stately steppes he east the way, and
stately steppes he west," but he now revolves, What is the apple to
me? and what the birds to me? and what is Hardiknute to me? and what
am I? And this is called _subjectiveness_, as the eye is withdrawn
from the object and fixed on the subject or mind.
We can easily concede that a steadfast tendency of this sort
appears in modern literature. It is the new consciousness of the one
mind which predominates in criticism. It is the uprise of the soul
and not the decline. It is founded on that insatiable demand for
unity -- the need to recognise one nature in all the variety of
objects, -- which always characterizes a genius of the first order.
Accustomed always to behold the presence of the universe in every
part, the soul will not condescend to look at any new part as a
stranger, but saith, -- "I know all already, and what art thou? Show
me thy relations to me, to all, and I will entertain thee also.
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