In order for this paper to make sense, I recommend reading the poem shown below: (the paper is below it)
“We are seven” by William Wordsworth
A simple child,
That lightly draws its breath,
And feels its life in every limb,
What should it know of death?
I met a little cottage Girl:
She was eight years old, she said;
Her hair was thick with many a curl
That clustered round her head.
She had a rustic, woodland air,
And she was wildly clad: 10
Her eyes were fair, and very fair;
--Her beauty made me glad.
"Sisters and brothers, little Maid,
How many may you be?"
"How many? Seven in all," she said
And wondering looked at me.
"And where are they? I pray you tell."
She answered, "Seven are we;
And two of us at Conway dwell,
And two are gone to sea. 20
"Two of us in the church-yard lie,
My sister and my brother;
And, in the church-yard cottage, I
Dwell near them with my mother."
"You say that two at Conway dwell,
And two are gone to sea,
Yet ye are seven!--I pray you tell,
Sweet Maid, how this may be."
Then did the little Maid reply,
"Seven boys and girls are we; 30
Two of us in the church-yard lie,
Beneath the church-yard tree."
"You run about, my little Maid,
Your limbs they are alive;
If two are in the church-yard laid,
Then ye are only five."
"Their graves are green, they may be seen,"
The little Maid replied,
"Twelve steps or more from my mother's door,
And they are side by side. 40
"My stockings there I often knit,
My kerchief there I hem;
And there upon the ground I sit,
And sing a song to them.
"And often after sunset, Sir,
When it is light and fair,
I take my little porringer,
And eat my supper there.
"The first that died was sister Jane;
In bed she moaning lay, 50
Till God released her of her pain;
And then she went away.
"So in the church-yard she was laid;
And, when the grass was dry,
Together round her grave we played,
My brother John and I.
"And when the ground was white with snow,
And I could run and slide,
My brother John was forced to go,
And he lies by her side." 60
"How many are you, then," said I,
"If they two are in heaven?"
Quick was the little Maid's reply,
"O Master! we are seven."
"But they are dead; those two are dead!
Their spirits are in heaven!"
'Twas throwing words away; for still
The little Maid would have her will,
And said, "Nay, we are seven!"
Learning Why We are Seven
Self-conscious thought hinders the flow of natural learning. To have a thought and then reflect on it questions the validity of that thought, at least in one’s own mind. The process of learning, thinking about what was learned, evaluating that thought based on one’s own experiences, re-evaluating that thought based on the perceived experiences and judgments of others, and then concluding that thought takes precious time away from being better spent learning more information. This constant thought re-evaluation also takes away from what was learned in the first place. Constantly second guessing one’s ideas causes facts to be perceived as fiction and vice versa. Natural learning and thinking, most commonly absorbed by children, as seen in “We are seven” by William Wordsworth, usually comes from observing nature or by trusting one’s own naturally occurring and unadulterated thoughts.
In the preface to “We are seven,” which shows the differences between wise passiveness and active seeking, Wordsworth ironically wrote of this poem as “shewing . . . the perplexity and obscurity which in childhood attend our notion of death, or rather our utter inability to admit that notion” (p. 391). Even in writing a poem that draws from his own childhood experience with the death of his mother, Wordsworth is unable to recognize the passive method of thought used by a child as anything but an inability to comprehend the self-conscious thought of an adult. Coleridge shares Wordsworth’s assumption of children’s ignorance, as seen in the first stanza (written by Coleridge), “What should [A simple child] know of death?” (ll. 1, 4). The child’s thought process becomes judged before it has even been stated, not only because of her age but because of her wild clothes and rustic demeanor. This assumption that youth and a closer association with nature would invalidate her thought process completely opposes the intellectual notion of the superiority of natural learning.
When asked how many children are in her family, the girl answers seven, including her two siblings lying in the church-yard. The man then repeats the list of the locations of the children, excluding the two deceased, as if correcting the girl’s addition, and then repeats the question, expecting the girl to acknowledge and reiterate his “superior knowledge.” The child’s view on death, instead of being recognized as having been absorbed through wise passiveness, is judged as ignorant through an obvious lack of active seeking. The man sees active seeking as the only method by which to learn from, and therefore forfeits the knowledge the girl bestows upon him regarding the obvious (to her) continued existence of her departed siblings through her memories and love for them. The child’s view of death is similar to that in the Incan religion in which the final death occurs at the moment that the memory of that person dies. To believe that death equates to a sudden non-existence is a forced idea, not a natural one. The child knows that her siblings remain in the ground beside her house, where she can read and sing to them while knitting or eating her supper. The man rejects the existence of the two departed siblings because during his active seeking he has never known them and so for him they do not exist. By denying his instinct for natural thought he fails to acknowledge that the children live on in the heart and mind of the girl and so by insisting on their number being five he disrespects the memory of the deceased.
The man takes his insistence on the girl’s departed siblings being non-existent beyond the simple implementation of the forced seeking of truth and into the complete ignorance of any existence of natural thought. Even an adult, beyond the age of natural learning, would be forgiven for if not expected to continue to acknowledge the existence of a recently deceased sibling if asked such a question as, “Sisters and brothers, little maid, / How many may you be?” (ll. 13-14). The graves of the late children are described as green, meaning that they most likely passed within the previous year. One might stop mentioning a previously living family member after a few years, but to be so ignorant of natural thought as to prod a child to cease acknowledging the existence of such recently departed siblings would be to assert forced, self-conscious thought as the only correct way to think. This in itself proves the fallacy of forced thought, as it leaves no room for natural learning, where as natural learning also leaves room for active seeking of knowledge.
Natural learning, or wise passiveness, is the first method of thought, and for some the only one. Forced learning, or active seeking, should be a supplement to natural learning, as it can fill in the gaps left by a lack of absorption of the lessons taught by experiences, instinctual behavior and inherent thoughts. Active seeking finds only details to be added to the broad knowledge found in primary thought, naturally occurring since birth. As wise passiveness is the first and sometimes only method by which creatures learn, and active seeking is the second, it can only be assumed that the foundation of forced learning stems from the learning that comes naturally. This also goes to say that through the sheer observation of evolution of thought, active seeking cannot occur without first natural thinking, but also that natural thought can easily and most commonly occurs without the assistance of forced thought. Knowledge is a pyramid, with a platform made of natural thought and a vertical ascension of active seeking. Without active seeking the platform grows horizontally, covering a broad array of topics. With active seeking, but lacking the platform of natural thought, the pyramid ceases to be and becomes an unorganized pile of rubble, difficult to sift through and near impossible to decipher. Only with the joining of natural and active thought can a pyramid grow broad and statuesque, encompassing the entire range of methods of thought. The cultural assumption of the superiority of knowledge found in active seeking serves only to undermine the values and meaning found in wise passiveness, so elusive to adults and so perfectly natural for children.
